They gave Lisbeth a message for Peter, reminding him of his promise, and saying that they would meet him in the wood-shed after dinner. When they went there they found the old man sawing wood and apparently very busy.
"You have dreadfully wet weather here, haven't you, Peter?" said Blanche, by way of opening the conversation.
The old man stopped his sawing and looked at her.
"I wouldna exactly say it's dreadfully wet," he replied. "It's maybe just a wee bittie saft, but no for to say wet."
"O Peter!" remonstrated Blanche. "Not wet, and it's been simply pouring cats and dogs for four whole days, and mother wouldn't let me come out. I hope it isn't often like this."
"Na, na, missie, only whiles."
"Well, I hope 'whiles' don't come very often, then," laughing.
"What are you going to tell us about to-day, Peter?" asked Marjory, anxious to begin the business of the afternoon.
"Me tell ye? What hae I to tell?" And the old man began his sawing again.
"Do be nice and begin, Peter darling," coaxed Marjory. "You promised, you know."