"It looks good, Maggie, and I am hungry. Is your brother back?"

"David is hame, sir. It was a hard walk he had. He's tired, I'm thinking."

The last words were said more to herself than to her lodger. She was

somewhat troubled by Davie's face and manner. He had scarcely spoken to

her since his return, but had sat thinking with his head in his hands.

She longed to know what Dr. Balmuto had said to him, but she knew David

Would resent questioning, and likely punish her curiosity by restraining

confidence with her for a day or two. So she spoke only of the storm, and

of the things which had come into her life or knowledge during his

absence.

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"Kirsty Wilson has got a sweetheart, David, and her no sixteen yet."

"Kirsty aye thocht a lad was parfect salvation. You shallna be mair than

civil to her. She has heard tell o' the man staying wi' us. It wad be that

brought her here nae doot."

"She was not here at a'. Maggie Johnson telled me. Maggie cam' to borrow a

cup o' sugar. She said Cupar's boat tried to win out o' harbor after the

storm. It could not manage though."

"It was wrang to try it. Folks shouldna tempt Providence."

"The cakes baked weel to-day."

"Ay, they are gude eating."

Then she could think of nothing more to say, and she washed the cups, and

watched the dark, sad man bending over the fire. A vulgar woman, a selfish

woman, would have interrupted that solemn session at her hearth. She would

have turned Inquisitor, and tortured him with questions. "What's the

matter?" "Is there anything wrong?" "Are you sick?" etc., etc. But when

Maggie saw that her brother was not inclined to talk to her, she left him

alone to follow out the drift of his own thoughts. He seemed unconscious

of her presence, and when her active house duties were over, she quietly

pulled her big wheel forward, and began to spin.

The turfs burned red, the cruisie burned low, the wheel "hummed"

monotonously, and Maggie stepped lightly to-and-fro before it. In an hour

the silence became oppressive, she was sleepy, she wished Davie would

speak to her. She laid her fingers on the broad wooden band and was just

going to move, when the inner door was opened, and the stranger stood at

it. His pause was but a momentary one, but the room was all picture to

him, especially the tall fair woman with her hand upon the big wheel, and

her face, sensitive and questioning, turned toward her brother.

"David Promoter."

"Ay, sir." He moved slowly like a man awakening from a sleep, but very

quickly shook off the intense personality of his mood, and turned to the

stranger with a shy and yet keen alertness.




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