‘Is that you, Andrew? Dear, man, I hope naething’s the matter—you have an awfu’ troubled countenance,’ Janet said.
‘There is nothing particular the matter,’ said Andrew grimly, ‘but I’m tired of waiting for what never comes, and I’m thinking of going up to London. I thought it best to let you know, in case you might have any message. Though, as you’re always in correspondence——’
‘Ou ay, we’re always in correspondence,’ said Janet.
‘Just read ower that bit again, Janet, my woman,’ said her husband. ‘It’s real diverting,—just like having a book to read that’s a’ your ain. Whaur she gets it a’ is mair than I can tell.’
‘No, thank you—I’ve no time,’ said Andrew, ‘and most likely it would not divert me; for, to tell the truth, I’m very serious, and things have come to that pass that I must just come to a settlement one way or other. So if you have any parcel or any message——’
‘But you’re no’ going to throw up the school, or do anything rash? Do nothing rash, Andrew—that would be the warst of a’.’
‘I hope I’m not an unknown person,’ said the schoolmaster; ‘if I throw up one I’ll get another, for there’s plenty that knows my value. But I have no intention to be rash. There’s three days’ vacation for the preachings, and I am going then.’
‘For the preachings! Dear, lad, would you be away at the preachings?’ Janet cried.
‘Preachings or no preachings, I’m going to London,’ he said, with impatience. ‘I’ll hear what she has to say; but I’m not a man to be just kept hanging on. She’ll have to take me or to want me.’ He was much impressed with the tremendous character of the choice that Joyce would have to make. It sobered his tone. ‘I hope nobody will think that I would be hard upon her: but she must satisfy me that all’s well, or else——’ He did not finish the sentence; but the sternness of the determination which he would not utter was visible in his eyes.
‘I wouldna speak to her in a tone like that, if I was you. Ye may lead Joyce with love and kindness many a mile, but ye’ll no’ drive her an inch—no’ an inch. Though she’s our ain, she has her faults, like every ither mortal creature. If ye wag your finger at her in the way of a threat——’