“Oh! ay, Miss Dawson. I had to tell Phemie something. And I’ll be glad o’ an orra book or two, as I’m goin’ to the school—a count-book or maybe a Latin grammar. But I’ll come back for it again.”
“Wait a minute, Robbie,” said Jean. She went into the parlour again where her father was sitting.
“May, what is this about a book for Robbie Saugster? Did you promise him one? He says he is going to the school.”
“A book? I dinna mind. Maybe I did. What kind of a book was it? I canna look it out to-night, I am too tired.”
The father’s eyes had gone from one to the other with eager scrutiny.
“There are old school books enough, and I’ll tell him that you’ll look them out to-morrow.”
“You should have had them ready, no’ to keep the laddie coming back again,” said her father sharply.
“I didna mind about it, and I dare say Jean promised as well as me,” she answered pettishly.
“Mind next time then; and, Jean, tell Phemie to give the laddie his supper before he goes home.”
“Yes, papa,” said Jean as she shut the door.