“Did you see my mother before you came away?” said John.
“Yes, I went to bid her good-bye on the last night.”
And then she added that she thought his mother was “wearying” to see him, and that he should go home soon.
“Yes, I have been busy of late, and I have been away. Allison, I have been in the parish of Kilgower.”
Allison laid down her work and fixed her eyes on his face, growing very pale.
“It was a business journey. A letter came asking that some one should be sent to make an estimate as to the cost of repairing a farmhouse. It was asked that John Beaton might be the man sent, and when I turned the leaf, and saw the name of Brownrig, I guessed the reason why.”
Allison asked no question, but sat regarding him with troubled eyes. All the story was not told to her, and John spoke very quietly. But it had been an unpleasant visit to him, and had moved him greatly.
He found Brownrig waiting for him at the inn of the town, but John refused his invitation to go to his house, saying to himself:
“If I have any lies to tell him, they would be none the easier to tell after I had eaten his bread.”
Brownrig did not take offence at the refusal, as at first he had seemed inclined to do. He came in the morning, and was quite civil, even friendly, as they went away together to attend to their business. He told John about the country folk, and about the various farms which they passed; and at last they came round by Grassie.