“Perhaps that was the cause o’ his mither neglecting him anent his books, and such things?”
“Not it! His mither is a lazy, unfeeling hizzy! I’d like to hae the sorting o’ her—fine!”
“Maybe he was too sick to be bothered wi’ books and lessons.”
“Maybe he wad niver hae been sick at a’, if he had been gi’en a few books and lessons. Griselda Ruleson had better keep out o’ my presence. If she ventures into it, the words arena to seek, that I’ll gie her.”
One cold afternoon Christine was hearing the boy’s lessons when Cluny Macpherson called. He looked annoyed at the child’s presence and said, “I saw your mither in the village, sae I thought I wad hae a chance to speak a few words to you, wi’ nane by, but oursel’s.”
“You needna mind wee James.”
“Send him awa’. I want you, and nane but you.”
James was sent away, and then Christine said, “You hae got your will, Cluny. Now what hae you to say to me, that the little one couldna listen to?”
“I want to know, Christine, when you will marry me. I hae been waiting months for that word, and I can wait nae langer. I’m goin’ awa’ tomorrow.”