Part 1, Chapter VII.
Polly’s Surprise.
There was a dark shadow over Polly Morrison’s mind, and she started and shivered at every step when her husband was away at work, but only to brighten up when the great sturdy fellow came in, smelling of wood, and ready to crush her in his arms with one of his bear-like hugs.
Polly had been furtively gazing from the window several times on the afternoon of that market-day, and turned hot and cold as she had heard steps which might be those of some one coming there; but the cloud passed away in the sunshine of Tom Morrison’s happy smile, now that he had come in, and she felt, as she expressed it, “oh! so safe.”
“There, let me go, do, Tom,” she cried, merrily. “Oh, what a great strong, rough fellow you are!”
“No, no; stop a minute,” he said here. “I oughtn’t to be smiling, for I’ve just heard something, Polly.”
“Heard something, Tom!” she faltered, and she turned white with dread, and shrank away.
“Here, I say,” he cried, “you must get up your strength, lass. Why, what a shivering little thing thou art!”
“You—you frightened me, Tom,” she gasped.
“Frightened you? There, there, it’s nothing to frighten thee. I have just heard about Jock.”