“That is kind of you! Raspberries are very nearly as good as strawberries, and it would be splendid to get them so near at hand. I—er—” he frowned, with a momentary return to his old embarrassment—“I will come too, and carry the basket, for we must hope to have a fairly heavy load.”
Margot could hardly believe in the reality of this sudden change of position, as she set out for the village ten minutes later, with George Elgood by her side. He carried the basket lent by Mrs McNab, and swung along with big easy strides, while she trotted by his side, a pretty girlish figure in her cool white frock. It was left to her to do the greatest share of the talking; but one reassuring fact was quickly discovered, namely, that her companion’s shyness seemed to consist mainly in the dread of breaking strange ground, for once the first plunge over he showed none of the expected embarrassment or distress. If he could not be called talkative, he was at least an appreciative listener; not a single point of her conversation missed its due share of interest; while his deep, quiet laugh proved an incentive to fresh flights of fancy. For a whole ten days had Margot been waiting for her opportunity, and now that it had come she was keen to turn it to the best possible advantage. Had the Chieftain been at hand to watch her with his quizzical glance, she might have been tongue-tied and ill at ease; even Ronald’s presence would have brought with it a feeling of self-consciousness; but in the kindly solitude of the mountain road she could be herself, without thought of any one but her companion. Remembering the warning which she had received, she kept the conversation on strictly impersonal topics, avoiding even the mention of Ron’s name, but never had ordinary topics seemed so interesting, or the way to the village so extraordinarily quickly traversed!
Inside the fusty grocer’s shop the good Mrs Forsyth manifested none of a Southerner’s delight at the advent of a customer for her superfluous fruit; she appeared, indeed, to receive Margot’s first inquiry in a somewhat flisty and off-hand manner, as though advantage were being taken of a careless word, which she had not expected to have taken in serious earnest. George Elgood, distinctly rebuffed, muttered unintelligible words of apology, but already Margot was beginning to understand the dour Northern manner, and pressed the attack with undiminished eagerness. Thus coerced, Mrs Forsyth was forced to acknowledge that she wouldna deny that she had raspberries in the garden; and that it seemed a pity they should waste, as she hadna the time to “presarve.” There was no telling—maybe when the children came hame from school in the afternoon they wouldna be above picking a basketful, and taking it down to the inn.
“But we want them now! We want as many as you can possibly spare, but we must have them to take back with us now!”
“And who’s to pick them for ye, I would ask?” demanded Mrs Forsyth with scathing directness. “I’ve the shop to mind, and the dinner to cook; it’s not likely I can be out picking fruit at the same time, and there’s not anither soul in the house forbye mysel! I’m thinking you’ll have to wait, or do without!”
“We could pick them ourselves!” pleaded the Editor eagerly. “You would have no trouble except to measure the fruit after it is gathered, and tell us what we owe! I don’t care how much I pay. I want some fruit this morning, and if I can’t get it from you I shall have to drive over to Rew. That would cost five or six shillings for the trap alone, so you see I shall get off well, even if you charge me twice the usual price.”
But here again the benighted Southerner found himself brought up sharply against an unexpected phase of Scottish character, for Mrs Forsyth was distinctly on her high horse at the thought of being offered more than her due. She had her price; a fair-like price, she informed him loftily, and she stuck to it. She wasna the woman to make differences between one person and anither. Justice was justice, and she would like to meet the man who could say she had ever stooped to accept a bribe.
So on and so on, while once again George Elgood hung his head abashed, and glanced in distress at his companion. In the delight afforded by that appeal Margot felt equal to dealing with ten Mrs Forsyths, each equally unreasonable and “kamstary.”
“We will leave the price to you; we will leave everything to you!” she cried gaily. “I know it’s asking a great deal to be allowed to come into your garden and pick for ourselves, but we are rather in a difficulty, for this gentleman is giving a picnic this afternoon, and Mrs McNab has no fruit to give us. It would be a favour not only to us, but to the whole party if you would say Yes. Please!”
The way in which Margot said “Please!” with head on one side, and upraised, beseeching eyes, was one of the most fatal of her blandishments. Even the redoubtable Mrs McNab had succumbed at the sight, and in her turn Mrs Forsyth also was overcome. She made no further objections, but led the way through the house into a long stretch of vegetable garden, the end portion of which was thickly planted with raspberry bushes.