Shenac's Work at Home

by Margaret M. Robertson

“I didn’t know that you had spoken to Sandy—not that it would have made any difference, however,” added Shenac candidly.

“And, Dan, you don’t suppose any one will care for what a girl like Shenac Bhan may say. He’ll come all the same to please you,” said Cousin Shenac.

“Whether he comes or not, I’m going to McLay’s raising,” said Dan angrily. “Shenac’s not my mistress, yet a while.”

“Whisht, Dan; let’s have no quarrelling,” pleaded the mother.—“Why do you vex him?” she continued, as Dan rushed out of the room.

“I did not mean to vex him, mother,” said Shenac gently.

This was only one of many vexatious discussions that had troubled their peace during the summer. Sometimes Shenac’s conscience acquitted her of all blame; but, whether it did or not, she always felt that if Hamish had been at home all this might have been prevented. She did not know how to help it. Sometimes her mother blamed her more than was quite fair for Dan’s fits of wilfulness and idleness, and she longed for Hamish to be at home again.

Dan went to the raising, and, I daresay, was none the better for the companionship of the offended Sandy. Shenac stayed at home and worked at the barley till it grew dark. She even did something at it when the moon rose, after her mother had gone to bed; but she herself was in bed and asleep before Dan came, so there was nothing more said at that time.

The harvest dragged a little, but they got through with it in a reasonable time. There were more wet weather and more anxiety all through the season than there had been last year; but, on the whole, they had reason to be thankful that it had ended so well. Shenac was by no means so elated as she had been last year. She was very quiet and grave, and in her heart she was beginning to ask herself whether Angus Dhu might not have been right, and whether she might not have better helped her mother and all of them in some other way. They had only just raised enough on the farm to keep them through the year, and surely they might have managed just to live with less difficulty. Even if Dan had been as good and helpful as he ought to have been, it would not have made much difference.

Shenac would not confess it to herself, much less to any one else, but the work of the summer had been a little too much for her strength and spirits. Her courage revived with a little rest and the sight of her brother. He did not come back quite a new man, but he was a great deal better and stronger than he had been for years; and the delight of seeing him go about free from pain chased away the half of Shenac’s troubles. Even Dan’s freaks did not seem so serious to her now, and she made up her mind to say as little as possible to Hamish about the vexations of the summer, and to think of nothing unpleasant now that she had him at home again.

But unpleasant things are not so easily set aside out of one’s life, and Shenac’s vexations with Dan were not over. He was more industrious than usual about this time, and worked at cutting and bringing up the winter’s wood with a zeal that made her doubly glad that she had said little about their summer’s troubles. He talked less and did more than usual; and Hamish bade his mother and Shenac notice how quiet and manly he was growing, when he startled them all by a declaration that he was going with the Camerons and some other lads to the lumbering, far up the Grand River.