“And me, I’m to be left my lane, to keep the hoose,” said Dougal, “like Joan Tamson’s man.”
“Weel,” said Katrin, “ye’re in there mony a day and me at hame; it would be a funny thing if I couldna gang to the market once at the New Year.”
“I’m saying nothing against you and your market. And here’s Miss Lily away to her tea at the Manse, and maun have Rory no less to drive her in the geeg with that lad from Edinburgh. I wish there was less of that lad from Edinburgh; he’s nae ways agreeable to me.”
“Losh, man! it’s no you he’s running after,” cried Katrin, “nor me neither. But he’s a fine lad for all that.”
“Fine or foul, I would like to see the back of him,” said Dougal; and the women in their guilty consciences trembled. They had both been brought to Ronald’s side. Both of them had a soft heart for true love, and the fact of stealing a march upon Sir Robert was as pleasant to Katrin as if she had been ten times his housekeeper. The house was full of subdued excitement, hidden words exchanged between the women on the stairs and in dark corners, as if they were conspirators or lovers. “Has he any suspicion, do ye think?” Beenie whispered in Katrin’s ear. “Him!” cried Katrin. “If it was put under his nose in black and white, he would bring it to me to spell it out till him.” “Eh, but sometimes these simple folks discern a thing when others that are wiser see nothing.” “Wha said my man was simple? There’s no a simple bit about him; but he knows I’m a woman to be trusted, and he’ll no gang a step without Katrin!” It was not, perhaps, a moment when an anxious enquirer could feel this trust justified. “Eh, Katrin,” cried Robina, “tell me just what’s the worst that could happen to them if it was found out.” “The worst is just that he would have to take his bride away, Beenie.” “Eh! she would no be minding! That’s just what she wants most.” “And lose her uncle’s siller,” Katrin added, with a deeper gravity of tone. “That wouldna trouble her either,” said Beenie, shaking her head as over a weakness of her mistress which she could not deny. “But I am feared, feared,” said Katrin solemnly, with that repetition which makes an utterance emphatic, “that it would be a sore trouble to him.” “Anyway, it’s a’ settled now, and we’ll have to stick to them,” said Beenie doubtfully. “Oh, I’ll stick to them as long as I can stand,” Katrin said with vigor; and this was the last word.
It was clear enough that something was going to take place at the tower of Dalrugas on that Thursday; but this was sufficiently accounted for by the fact that Katrin was going to the market, a thing that did not happen above twice or thrice a year. There were a great many arrangements to make, and the black powny had begun his toilet, and the little cart had been scrubbed and brushed before the sun was well up in the sky to receive the two substantial forms, which, on their side, were arrayed in their best gowns before the early dinner to which they sat down, each with her heart in her mouth in all the excitement of the ripe conspiracy. Only an hour or two now, and the signal would be given, the cord would be pulled, and the great scene would open upon them. “Will you and me ever forget this day, Katrin?” Beenie gasped, unable to control herself. Katrin gave her a push with her shoulder, and took her own place soberly at the board to dispense the dinner as usual. “There’s an awfu’ fine piece of beef in the pot,” she said, “ower good for the like of us; but it’ll mind ye, Dougal, of the day ye keepit the house, and I gaed to the toun.”
“It’s no the first day I’ve keepit the house, and you been the one to gang to the toun.”
“No, maybe, ye’ve done it four times since you and me were marriet. If ye ever got better broth than thae broth, it’s no me that made them. They’re that well boiled they just melt in your mouth with goodness, with a piece of meat in them fit for the laird’s table. Have ye taken up some of my broth, Beenie, to the young lady and her friend up the stair?”
“You’re no taking much of them yourself,” said Dougal, “nor Beenie either. Bless the women, your heads are just turned with the grand ploy o’ going to the market. Me, I gang to the market and say naething about it, nor ever lose a bite of a bannock on that account. But you’re queer creatures, no to be faddomed by man. Are ye going to spend a lot o’ siller that ye’re in siccan a state? Beenie, now, she’ll be wanting a new gown.”
“If ye think that I, that am used to a’ the grand shops in Edinburgh, would buy a gown at Kinloch-Rugas——”