“It was a curious story as I heard it,” said Saunners. “Is the wee wine ‘a’ there’?” asked John quietly. “I’m by no means sure o’ it. She looked daft-like when she shook her neive (fist) at the man Brownrig behind his back and called him ill names. And her lauch when she told me that the man had never touched his wife’s hand since the day he put the ring upon it, and when she swore that never had he touched her lips, was mad enow.”
John’s mother felt the start which her son gave when the words were spoken.
“And is it true, think ye?” said she. “There seems to be truth in the story, but where it lies I canna say. And whether it be true or no, I am beginning to think that I have no call to make or meddle in it.”
“There is just one thing that I must say again,” said Mrs Beaton—“I’ll never believe an ill word of Allison Bain till with her own lips she gives me leave to do it! She is a good woman, whatever trouble may have been brought into her life by the ill-doing of others.”
“What think ye, John?” said Saunners.
“I think ye did a wise thing when ye came to consult with my mother. She kens a good woman when she sees her.”
“There may be truth in the story. It may be a’ true. But the question for me to decide with your advice is whether a word o’ mine will help or hinder the richt thing’s being done?”
“Yes, that is the question,” said Mrs Beaton. She hesitated to say more. For she knew that to set one side of a matter in a strong light was the surest way to let Crombie see more clearly all that might be said on the other side.
“She’s a weel doin’ lass,” said Crombie.
“She is invaluable in the manse,” said Mrs Beaton.