"But she does not love him—that is all."
As the tale was being told in, brief, clear, slow sentences, Marget's eyes became luminous, and her lips opened as one ready to speak from an inner knowledge.
"Ye hev let me see a piece o' life, an' it is sacred, for naethin' on earth is sae near God as luve, an' a 'll no deny that ma woman's heart is wi' that honest gentleman, an' a' the mair gin he dinna win his prize.
"But a man often comes tae his heicht through disappointment, and a woman, she hes tae learn that there is that which she hes the richt tae give for gratitude or friendship's sake, and that which can only be bestowed by the hand o' luve.
"It will maybe help ye gin a' tell ye anither tale, an' though it be o' humble life, yet oor hearts are the same in the castle and the cottar's hoose, wi' the same cup o' sorrow tae drink an' the same croon o' joy tae wear, an' the same dividin' o' roads for oor trial.
"There wes a man showed a wumman muckle kindness, and to her fouk also, an' he wes simple an' honest, an' for what he hed done an' because there wes nae evil in him she married him."
"And what has happened?" Kate, being half Highland, had less patience than Marget.
"He hes been a gude man tae her through the dark an' through the licht, an' she hes tried tae repay him as a puir imperfect wumman can, an' her hert is warm to him, but there hes aye been ae thing wantin'—an' it hes been that wife's cross a' her life—there wes nae ither man, but her husband wesna, isna, canna be her ain a'thegither an' for ever—for the want o' luve—that luve o' luve that maks marriage."
Her voice was laden with feeling, and it was plain that she had given of her own and deepest for the guiding of another.
"Marget, I can never be grateful enough to you for what you have shown me this day." As she passed Whinny with his bag of seed, he apologised for his wife.