“I wanted to do it—I couldna resist the want. And it was only to you, and the twa Ballisters. Nane o’ you three will go blabbing. Anyway, when Neil leaves the Maraschal, he will care little how I talk. 102 He’ll hae finer folk than Christine, to crack and claver wi’.”
“He will not find finer folk easily. Now run home as quickly as you can, and prepare your father and mother for the Ballister visit. I will come with him, and ask your mother to have a cup of tea by the fire for us.”
“Will Angus be wi’ ye, Sir?”
“No, he will not.”
“Why?”
“Because I am going to send him to the factor’s, and also to Lawyer Semple’s. You need not be looking for him. Try and leave well alone. It is hard to make well better, and it is very easy to make it worse. If you hurry a little, I think you may be home by twelve o’clock.”
So Christine hurried a little, and reached home by the noon hour. Her dinner was ready, and her father very unexpectedly was sitting by the fireside.
“Feyther,” she said, “I hope you arena sick,” and then she smiled at the inquiry, for his broad, rosy face was the very picture of robust health.
“Sick! Na, na, lassie! I’m weel enou’, but Norman was feeling badly. His arm hurts him sairly, and I was noticing that the fish had gane to deep waters. We’ll hae a storm before long.”
Then Christine served the dinner waiting for her, and while they were eating, she told the great news of a school for Culraine. Ruleson was quickly enthusiastic. 103 Margot, out of pure contradiction, deplored the innovation.