“Oh, what about Shenac?” said Dan impatiently. “They will be glad to come. What’s a short forenoon to them? And I believe Shenac hates the sight of one and all. What’s the use of speaking to her?”
“Did you tell them that when you asked them?” said Shenac Dhu dryly.
“I haven’t asked them yet,” said Dan. “But what would they care for a girl like Shenac, if I were to tell?”
“Try and see,” said Shenac Dhu. “You’re a wise lad, Dan, about some things. Do you think it’s to oblige you that Sandy McMillan is hanging about here and bothering folk with his bees and his bees? Why, he would go fifty miles and back again, any day of his life, for one glance from your sister’s eye. Don’t fancy that folk are caring for you, lad.”
“Shenac Dhu, my dear,” said her aunt in a tone of vexation, “don’t say such foolish things, and put nonsense into the head of a child like our Shenac.”
“Well, I won’t, aunt; indeed I dare not,” said Shenac Dhu, laughing, as at that moment Shenac Bhan came in.
“Shenac, what kept you?” said her mother fretfully. “Your dinner is cold. See, Dan has finished his.”
“I could not help it, mother,” said Shenac, sitting down. “It was that Sandy McMillan that hindered me. He offered to come and help us with the barley.”
“And what did you say to him?” asked Shenac Dhu demurely.
“Oh, I thanked him kindly,” said Shenac, with a shrug of her shoulders.