Ermine lived in an age when it was a most extraordinary occurrence for a woman to have any power to dispose of herself in marriage, and such a thing was almost regarded as unnatural and improper. She held out her hand to Stephen.
“I will go where the Lord sends me,” she said simply. “Dear Mother Haldane saved my life, and she has more right to dispose of me than any one else. Be it so.”
“When folks are wed, they commonly have gifts made them,” said Haldane with a smile. “I haven’t much to give, and you’ll think my gift a queer one: but I wish you’d take it, Ermine. It’s Gib.”
“I will take Gib and welcome, and be very thankful to you,” answered Ermine in some surprise. “But, Mother Haldane, you are leaving yourself all alone. I was afraid you would miss me, after all these weeks, and if you lose Gib too, won’t you be lonely?”
“Miss you!” repeated the old woman in a tremulous voice. “Miss you, my white bird that flew into my old arms from the cruel storm? Sha’n’t I miss you? But it won’t be for long. Ay! when one has kept company with the angels for a while, one’s pretty like to miss them when they fly back home. But you’d best take Gib. The Wise Woman knows why. Only I don’t tell all my secrets. And it won’t be for long.”
Haldane had been laying fresh sticks on the embers while she spoke. Now she turned to Stephen.
“She’d best have Gib,” she said. “He’s like another creature since she came. She’ll take care of him. And you’ll take care of her. I told you last time you were here as I’d do the best for her, not for you. But this is the best for both of you. And maybe the good Lord’ll do the best for me. Ermine says He’s not above keeping a poor old woman company. But whatever comes, and whatever you may hear, you bear in mind that I did my best for you.”
“Ay, that I’m sure you’ve done, Mother,” replied Stephen warmly. “As for Gib, I’ll make him welcome for your sake; he looks rather comfortable now, so I think he’ll get along.”
It certainly was not too much to say that Gib was another creature. That once dilapidated-looking object, under Ermine’s fostering care, had developed into a sleek, civilised, respectable cat; and as he sat on her lap, purring and blinking at the wood-fire, he suggested no ideas of discomfort.
“Ay, I’ve done my best,” repeated the old woman with a sigh. “The Lord above, He knows I’ve done it. You’d best be off with the morning light. I can’t be sure—Well, I mustn’t tell my secrets.”