“Thou mind thy own affairs, Deacon Tulloch.”
“Well then it is my affair to tell thee, that there is a time for anger and a time for forgiveness. If Jan is to be saved, his wife can now do it. At this hour he is sick and sore-hearted, and she can win him back, she can save him now, Fae.”
“Shall I lose my child to save Jan Vedder? What is it to thee? What can thou know of a father’s duty? Thou, who never had child. Deacon thou may be, but thou art no Dominie, and I will order my household without thy word, thus or so. Yes, indeed I will!”
“Just that, Fae. I have spoken for a good man. And let me tell thee, if Margaret Vedder is thy daughter, she is also Jan’s wife; and if I were Jan, I would make her do a wife’s duty. If all the women in Shetland were to run back to their fathers for a little thing that offended them, there would be an end of marrying.”
Peter laughed scornfully. “Every one knows what well-behaved wives old bachelors have.”
“Better to be a bachelor, than have a wife like poor Jan Vedder has.”
“Thou art talking of my daughter. Wilt thou mind thy own affairs?”
“I meant well, Fae. I meant well. Both thee and I have much need of heaven’s mercy. It will be a good thing for us to be merciful. I am willing to help and trust Jan again. Thou 99 do so too. Now I will say ‘good morning’, for I see thou art angry at me.”
Peter was angry, intensely angry. Under the guise of Christian charity, Tulloch had come into his store and insulted him. Peter would believe in no other motive. And yet he was scarcely just to Tulloch, for his intentions had first and mainly been sincerely kind ones; but the tares are ever among the wheat, and it was true enough that before the interview was over Tulloch had felt a personal pleasure in his plain speaking.