The farmer glanced in his turn at the blue, almost cloudless heavens.
"Not a bit of it," he said. "You're out for once, child. No sign whatever of rain. It's market-day, and I'm off. I've got a good bit of business to see to, to-day, at the town. No, no, the weather's all right. You'll see. I may be a trifle late, dame. Don't you be uneasy."
"You'll take your overcoat, anyway, father," said his wife, who was not so unbelieving in Merran's foresight as her husband.
He replied by a hearty laugh.
"Overcoat," he repeated. "Bless me, what are you thinking of? Overcoat in weather like this! Why, it's as settled as can be—warm and fine, like it's been for the last week or two. Couldn't be more settled."
"That's a new word to use for these parts," said Dirk quietly. Merran said nothing. The dame turned to her sons.
"Which of you's going with father?" she said, adding in a whisper to Dirk, who was next her at table, "You'll see to it if you go," she said, "see that he takes his coat. Think of his rheumatism if he gets soaked."
But Dirk shook his head, which was explained by the farmer's next words.
"None of 'em," he said, in reply to the goodwife's enquiry. "There's too much to do at home just now for more than me to be spared. You've all got your work cut out for you—eh, boys?"
Then followed some field and crops talk, and no more was said about the weather, and soon after Farmer Mac set off.