“I don’t think as anything could be better than your scones, Elizabeth,” said Jim, from a discreet post at the kitchen door. “You’ll let me have some every day when the children come, won’t you? I’m sure they’ll like your scones, Elizabeth.”
“I’ll see what I can dae. Whiles they have nae butter-milk up at the fairm.”
The tone of Mrs. Macbean’s voice was not promising, and her attitude, as, shovel in hand, she “made up” her fire, was positively militant. Jim drew on his reserve fund of determination and stood his ground.
“Well, can you spare a moment, Elizabeth? I have something to tell you.”
“I hae thocht that,” replied Mrs. Macbean, with disconcerting promptitude.
“And I hope you won’t take it unkind,” added Jim.
“I’ll mak nae promises,” snapped Elizabeth.
M432
“NAY, ELIZABETH,” SAID JIM KINDLY, “THERE’S NO NEED FOR LOCKING UP.”