“Archie’s at the school, you know,” answered Lilias, shrinking rather from Nancy’s tone and manner than from her words.
“Yes; he’s at the school just now. But he wasn’t going to stop at the school, surely, when you went to the herding?”
“Oh yes; he is far better at the school.”
“Ay, he’s better at the school than playing. But wherefore should not he go to the weeding or the herding as well as you?”
“Archie! Why, he’s but a child! What could he do?”
“And what are you but a child?” asked Nancy, smiling. “I’m thinking there is little over the twelve months between you.”
“But Archie never was strong. It would never do to expose him to all kinds of weather or to fatigue. Don’t you mind such a cripple as he was when we came here? You used to think he wouldn’t live long. Don’t you mind?”
“Yes, I mind; but he did live, and thrive too; and he’s the most life-like of the two to-day, I’m thinking. Fatigue, indeed! and he ranging over the hills with that daft laddie Davie Graham, and playing at the ball by the hour together! What should ail him, I wonder?”
“But even if Archie were strong and well, and could gain far more than I can, it would yet be far better for him to be at the school. A man can do so little in the world if he has no education; and now is Archie’s time to get it.”
“Well, it may be. And when’s your time coming?” asked Nancy, drily.