If I asked her some questions between the hill and
Windyghoul you must not blame me, for this was my
affair as well as theirs. She did not answer
me; I know now that she did not hear me. But at
the mud house she looked abruptly into my face, and
said—
“You love him, too!”
I trudged to the school-house with these words for
company, and it was less her discovery than her confession
that tortured me. How much I slept that night
you may guess.
Contains A birth, which is sufficient
for one chapter.
“The kirk bell will soon be ringing,”
Nanny said on the following morning, as she placed
herself carefully on a stool, one hand holding her
Bible and the other wandering complacently over her
aged merino gown. “Ay, lassie, though you’re
only an Egyptian I would hae ta’en you wi’
me to hear Mr. Duthie, but it’s speiring ower
muckle o’ a woman to expect her to gang to the
kirk in her ilka day claethes.”
The Babbie of yesterday would have laughed at this,
but the new Babbie sighed.
“I wonder you don’t go to Mr. Dishart’s
church now. Nanny,” she said, gently.
“I am sure you prefer him.”
“Babbie, Babbie,” exclaimed Nanny, with
spirit, “may I never be so far left to mysel’
as to change my kirk just because I like another minister
better! It’s easy seen, lassie, that you
ken little o’ religious questions.”
“Very little,” Babbie admitted, sadly.
“But dinna ba so waeful about it,” the
old woman continued, kindly, “for that’s
no nane like you. Ay, and if you see muckle mair
o’ Mr. Dishart he’ll soon cure your ignorance.”
“I shall not see much more of him,” Babbie
answered, with averted head.
“The like o’ you couldna expect it,”
Nanny said, simply, whereupon Babbie went to the window.
“I had better be stepping,” Nanny said,
rising, “for I am aye late unless I’m on
the hill by the time the bell begins. Ay, Babbie,
I’m doubting my merino’s no sair in the
fashion?”
She looked down at her dress half despondently, and
yet with some pride.
“It was fowerpence the yard, and no less,”
she went on, fondling the worn merino, “when
we bocht it at Sam’l Curr’s. Ay, but
it has been turned sax times since syne.”
She sighed, and Babbie came to her and put her arms
round her, saying, “Nanny, you are a dear.”
“I’m a gey auld-farrant-looking dear,
I doubt,” said Nanny, ruefully.
“Now, Nanny,” rejoined Babbie, “you
are just wanting me to flatter you. You know
the merino looks very nice.”
“It’s a guid merino yet,” admitted
the old woman, “but, oh, Babbie, what does the
material matter if the cut isna fashionable?
It’s fine, isn’t it, to be in the fashion?”
She spoke so wistfully that, instead of smiling, Babbie
kissed her.
“I am afraid to lay hand on the merino, Nanny,
but give me off your bonnet and I’ll make it
ten years younger in as many minutes.”
