“Ah well, it’s my fault,” Evan answered humbly. “For what reasons were you asked to leave?”
“Och, sir, you would not like the truth.”
“Aye, Gabriel, but tell it since I ask for it.”
“Well, sir, first because we wouldn’t be churched.”
Evan’s eyes winced. “And then?”
“Well, sir, because we wouldn’t trade at Mr. Thatcher’s shop.”
“Trade at Thatcher’s shop?” Evan repeated incredulously, anger and humiliation in his tone.
“Aye, sir.” Then seeing the mortification upon Sir Evan’s face, Gabriel added hastily: “But it’s my fault Maggie’s out’n her head. I was cruel to her, an’ between that an’ havin’ to leave home it broke her heart.”
“No, Gabriel, it’s more my fault than yours,” said Evan. “May I see her?”
“Aye, sir,” assented Gabriel, taking him into the kitchen.