“I think the money is thine. All thine has been hers, or she had not saved so much; all hers ought then to be thine. But it is well and right to tell her of Tulloch’s offer to thee. She may like to give thee as a gift what else thou must take without any pleasure.”
Jan laughed; it was an unpleasant laugh, and did not at all brighten his face, but he resolved to a certain extent on taking Snorro’s advice. It was quite midnight when he reached his home, but Margaret was sitting by a few red peats knitting. She was weeping, also, and her tears annoyed him.
“Thou art ever crying like a cross child,” he said. “Now what art thou crying for?”
“For thy love, my husband. If thou would care a little for me!”
“That is also what I say. If thou would care a little for me and for my well-doing! Listen, now! I have heard where I can buy a good boat for £600. Wilt thou ask thy father 65 for so much of thy tocher? To have this boat, Margaret, would make me the happiest man in Shetland. I know that thou can manage it if thou wilt. Dear wife, do this thing for me. I ask thee with all my heart.” And he bent toward her, took the knitting away, and held her hands in his own.
Margaret dropped her eyes, and Jan watched her with a painful interest. Did she love him or her £600 better? Her face paled and flushed. She looked up quickly, and her lips parted. Jan believed that she was going to say—“I have £600, and I will gladly give it to thee.” He was ready to fold her to his breast, to love her, as he had loved her that day when he had first called her “wife.” Alas! after a slight hesitation, she dropped her pale face and answered slowly—“I will not ask my father. I might as well ask the sea for fresh water.”
Jan let her hands fall, and stood up. “I see now that all talk with thee will come to little. What thou wants, is that men should give thee all, and thou give nothing. When thou sayest, ‘thy love, husband,’ thou means ‘thy money, husband;’ and if there is no money, then there is ever sighs and tears. Many things thou hast 66 yet to learn of a wife’s duty, and very soon I will give thee a lesson I had done well to teach thee long since.”
“I have borne much from thee, Jan, but at the next wrong thou does me, I will go back to my father. That is what I shall do.”
“We will see to that.”
“Yes, we will see!” And she rose proudly, and with flashing eyes gathered up her knitting and her wool and left the room.