“His feyther ought to hae been here.”
“Na! na! We dinna want feyther to think a’ his love and labor was thrown awa’. It wad fairly break his heart. We must just keep the mistake to oursel’s. We can forgie, and still lo’e the puir lad, but feyther wad go to extremes, both wi’ Neil and himsel’. We can thole his selfishness. We aye 146 knew it was there. We hae held our tongues sae far. We must gae on being silent. I wouldna hae feyther know for onything. Let him hae his dream, Mither!”
“My heart feels like to break, lassie.”
“Mine too, Mither. But we needna gie feyther a heart-break. We’ll just keep the visit quiet.”
“Your way be it, Christine.”
Women do such things!
At this moment Ruleson’s voice was heard. He was coming up the hill with Jamie’s hand in his own. “They’ll be inside in a minute, Mither—a smile frae you is worth gold now,” and she stooped and kissed her mother. This unusual token of love and care went to Margot’s heart with a bound.
“You dear lassie,” she said. “I’ll do as you say,” and that moment she was called upon to make good her words. Ruleson was at the hearthstone, and Jamie was at her knees, telling her what a splendid time they had had, and how many big fish they had caught.
“Did you bring ane o’ the haddocks hame with you, James?” she asked, and Ruleson answered, “I found Tamsen’s boy at the pier, waiting to buy all my catch, and I thought ye wad hae something better for us.”
“There’s naething better than a fresh haddock. You canna cook them wrang, if you try; but I’ll find something good for good fishermen like you and Jamie.” And she spread the table with good 147 things, and Ruleson said softly, as if to himself—“Thou satisfieth my mouth with good things, my cup runneth over.” And Christine and her mother had come very close to each other and Margot had forgotten her heart-break in Christine’s kiss, and almost forgotten Neil’s visit. At any rate she was quite happy to hide it from her husband. “He’s like a’ men,” she reflected, “he doesna spit oot his anger like I do, and be rid o’ it. He buries it in his heart, and he buries it alive, and it doesna gie him a moment’s peace. Christine is right, and I’m glad I held my tongue, even frae good words.”