Before she turned away she leaned down from her saddle.
‘Someday,’ she said, ‘when—if—Mr. Speid comes back, tell him that I came here and that——’
But she could not go on and rode down the short approach without ending her sentence. ‘Good-bye!’ she called at the gate, waving her hand.
Cecilia had reached Fullarton by the time Granny Stirk had finished her cleaning, for her visit had taken a good piece out of the afternoon. Though she generally was a steady worker, the old woman paused many times and laid down her duster. She took particular care of the room in which Gilbert slept, but, as she shook and beat the heavy curtains of his bed, her mind was not in her task. She was willing to admit that his passion was not altogether indefensible. As women went, Cecilia was more than very well, and, like nearly everyone who had once spoken to her, she did not deny her beauty. She pitied her too; though, it is to be feared, had her dead body been of any use to Speid, she would have stood by and seen her murdered. But, as he preferred her living, he should have her, if she, Joann Stirk, could get him home in time. Once let him come back and she would tell him what to do.
‘Ye’ll hae to drive me to Kaims i’ the cairt the morn’s morn,’ she observed to her grandson, as they bowled homewards.
‘I’m for Blackport,’ said Jimmy, laconically.
‘Ye’ll do as ye’re bid,’ replied the Queen of the Cadgers.
[[1]]Blackbeetle.