“Can you tell me what sort this Margaret was?” said she, as she turned to go.
“Well, somewhat too reserved for my taste. I like a chatty customer—when I'm not too busy. But she bore a high character for being a good daughter.”
“'Tis no small praise. A well-looking lass, I am told?”
“Why, whence come you, wyfe?”
“From Tergou.”
“Oh, ay. Well you shall judge: the lads clept her 'the beauty of Sevenbergen;' the lasses did scout it merrily, and terribly pulled her to pieces, and found so many faults no two could agree where the fault lay.”
“That is enough,” said Catherine. “I see, the bakers are no fools in Sevenbergen, and the young women no shallower than in other burghs.”
She bought a manchet of bread, partly out of sympathy and justice (she kept a shop), partly to show her household how much better bread she gave them daily; and returned to Tergou dejected.
Kate met her outside the town with beaming eyes.
“Well, Kate, lass, it is a happy thing I went; I am heartbroken. Gerard has been sore abused. The child is none of ourn, nor the mother from this hour.”