To-night they were more than friendly, and did not fall out of conversation of the most edifying sort, Marjorie putting in her word now and then. All went well till wee Wattie took a fit of coughing, and Norman followed in turn; and then Mistress Jamieson told them of her proposed expedition to the Stanin’ Stanes, for the benefit of all the bairns, if the day should prove fine.
Marjorie leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands and looking at her brother with eager entreaty in her eyes. But Robin would not meet her look. For Marjorie had a way of taking encouragement to hope for the attainment of impossible things when no encouragement was intended, and then when nothing came of it, her disappointment was as deep as her hopes had been high.
Then she turned her eyes to the mistress, but resisted the impulse to speak. She knew that her words would be sympathetic and encouraging, but that it must end in words as far as she was concerned.
“And it’s ay best to go straight to my mother,” said Marjorie to herself, remembering past experiences; “and there will be time enough to speak in the morning if the day should be fine.”
So she wisely put the thought of the morrow away, and took the good of the present. And she had her reward. Warned by Robin, Allie said not a word of what awaited the school bairns next day, though the little boys discussed it eagerly in the kitchen. So, when the mother came home, she found her little daughter quietly asleep, which was not often the case when anything had happened to detain her father and mother from home later than was expected.
But though Allison said nothing, she thought all the more about the pleasure which the child so longed to enjoy with the rest. Before she slept, she startled her mistress not a little, entering of her own free will into an account of the schoolmistress’ plan to take the bairns to the hills for the sake of their health, and ending by asking leave to take little Marjorie to “the Stanin’ Stanes” with the rest. She spoke as quietly as if she had been asking a question about the morning’s breakfast, and waited patiently for her answer. Mrs Hume listened doubtfully.
“I hope she has not been setting her heart upon it. It will be a sad disappointment to her.”
“If it must be a disappointment. No, we have had no words about it. But she heard it from the mistress. It wad be as good for her as for the other bairns.”
“I fear it would not be wise to try it. And she can hardly have set her heart upon going, or she would not be sleeping so quietly.”
“It would do her good,” persisted Allison.