But barefoot on the ground,’”
sang Polly. “Ye’ll not even wet yer good shoes by ridin’, Nancy, and I’d advise ye to take the lift when ye ken git it.” And so Agnes promised that she would go with Archie, secretly wishing that she had a new kerchief and that her best bonnet was of something better than “six hundred” linen.
“Ye’ll come in and have a sup with us,” said Polly to Archie; “that is, if so fine a body kin set down with our linsey-woolsey, and it’s no pewter we have, but juist wooden bowls and trenchers.”
“As if I didn’t know,” returned Archie, with some annoyance. “And that reminds me, I fetched you over a set of bowls I’ve been making. They are of good ash knots and as hard as a bullet. I left ’em out here where your father is working, Nancy.”
“Run along with him and get them,” said Polly, giving Agnes a good-natured shove, “and I’ll be takin’ up the mush whilst ye tell yer father to come in.” She stood a moment looking after the youth and the maid as they went off together. With all her rough heartiness and shrewd common sense, Polly was sentimental and she loved Agnes as a younger sister. “They’re a likely looking pair,” she said to herself. “I hope they’ll hit it off, though I’m no so sure o’ Nancy. She’s far too unconscious-like when Archie’s around. He’s a good lad, though a bit too serious. Faith, he’d make a good meenister or a schoolmaster if he had the larnin’.” She turned into the house while Archie and Agnes went on through the clearing to where Fergus Kennedy was at work in the little garden.
“I saw that Hump Muirhead yesterday,” said Archie.
“Where? Did you speak to him?”
“No. He was over by M’Clintock’s. He was boasting that you’d never set foot on the place again. He says it’s his by right of his being the eldest and the son, and your mother would have no chance at court unless she had a will to produce to prove a claim, and there’s nobody can contradict that. I’d like to be able to oust him, but if anybody tried it, he would make it bad for them, for he is capable of doing anything, they say, and nobody can gainsay that he hasn’t his right by being the eldest. So I’m afraid you’ll have to give it up, Agnes.”
“Oh, how I hate to. I know my grandfather would never have told my mother that she would have that piece of property if he hadn’t have meant to leave it to her. I should like to get the best of him. Oh, I should.”
“So would I, but I think I’d fight shy of him. They say he’s a bad one if you get his ill-will, and he will harm you if he can, and it worries me, Agnes—to have you—you in danger.”