“Glad enough am I to hear tell of this. But you’ll act just—eh? You won’t forget that poor auld blid, Lezzard? If she’m gwaine to leave un out the account altogether, he’ll be worse off than the foxes. His son’s gone to foreign paarts an’ his darter’s lyin’-in—not that her husband would spare a crust o’ bread for auld Lezzard, best o’ times.”
“Trust me to do what’s right. Now I’ll go and see after Chris.”
“An’ make it up with Will while sun shines on ’e. It’s so easy, come gude fortune, to feel your heart swellin’ out to others.”
“We are good friends now.”
“Do’e think I doan’t knaw better? Your quarrel’s patched for the sake of us women. Have a real make-up, I mean.”
“I will, then. I’ll be what I was to him, if he’ll let me. I’ll forgive everything that’s past—everything and every body.”
“So do. An’ doan’t ’e tell no more of them hard sayings ’gainst powers an’ principalities an’ Providence. Us be all looked arter, ’cording to the unknawn planning of God. How’s Mrs. Lezzard?”
“She’ll be dead in a fortnight—perhaps less. As likely as not I might marry Chris before the next new moon.”
“Doan’t think ’pon that yet. Be cool, an’ keep your heart in bounds. ’T is allus the way wi’ such as you, who never hope nothing. Theer comes a matter as takes ’em out of themselves, then they get drunk with hope, all of a sudden, an’ flies higher than the most sanguine folks, an’ builds castles ’pon clouds. Theer’s the diggin’ of a graave between you and Chris yet. Doan’t forget that.”
“You can’t evade solid facts.”