A great thought took possession of her. This appeared to be a providential chance to prove all that she had been advancing to Mr. Donald Iverach, who, indeed, had nothing whatever to do with the matter.
"Take you, Miss Celie?" stammered Cleg aghast. "Ye wadna gang to the shows?"
And he laughed a little laugh of wonderment at the jest of his goddess, for of course it could only be a joke.
"I will come with you, Cleg, if you will take me!" said Celie.
"But ye ken, Miss Celie, it's no for the like o' you. It's a' weel aneuch for boys and common fowk, but no for you!"
Thus Cleg urged prudence, even against the wild hope which took possession of him.
"Come on, Cleg!" said Celie Tennant, rushing into rebellion at the thought of having her independence called in question, even by one of the Knuckle Dusters.
"It's all his fault!" she said to herself.
Which it very clearly was—Cleg's, of course, for he ought not to have followed her home.
Now along the Easter Road, then only a somewhat muddy country track, there was a small quarry which is now filled up, and a vacant acre or two of land where the show-folk took up their stances, and waged mimic but not bloodless wars in the mornings for the best positions.