“But allowing us—you and me—to be of different opinions on some points, must that be a reason why she and I should not love one another?”
“No reason whatever, sir—if ye can and do: that point would be already settlet. But ye winna get Maggie to merry ye sae long as she disna believe ye loe her Lord as well as she loes him hersel. It’s no a common love that Maggie beirs to her Lord; and gien ye loed her wi’ a luve worthy o’ her, ye would see that!”
“Then you will promise me not to interfere?”
“I’ll promise ye naething, sir, excep to do my duty by her—sae far as I understan’ what that duty is. Gien I thoucht—which the God o’ my life forbid!—that Maggie didna lo’e him as weel at least as I lo’e him, I would gang upo’ my auld knees til her, to entreat her to loe him wi’ a’ her heart and sowl and stren’th and min’;—and whan I had done that, she micht merry wha she wad—hangman or minister: no a word would I say! For trouble she maun hae, and trouble she wull get—I thank my God, who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not!”
“Then I am free to do my best to win her?”
“Ye are, sir; and mair—afore the morn’s mornin, I winna pass a word wi’ her upo the subjeck.”
“Thank you, sir,” returned the minister, and took his leave.
“A fine lad! a fine lad!” said the soutar aloud to himself, as he resumed the work for a moment interrupted,—“but no clear—no crystal-clear—no clear like the Son o’ Man!”
He looked up, and saw his daughter in the doorway.
“No a word, lassie!” he cried. “I’m no for ye this meenute.—No a word to me aboot onything or onybody the day, but what’s absolute necessar!”