"Yea, I am glad--I and my father and mother and Ephraim--that thee is
returned to Fair View," answered Truelove. "And has thee truly no shoes of
plain and sober stuffs? These be much too gaudy."
"There's a pair of black callimanco," said the storekeeper reluctantly;
"but these of flowered silk would so become your feet, or this red-heeled
pair with the buckles, or this of fine morocco. Did you think of me every
day that I spent in Williamsburgh?"
"I prayed for thee every day," said Truelove simply,--"for thee and for
the sick man who had called thee to his side. Let me see thy callimanco
shoes. Thee knows that I may not wear these others."
The storekeeper brought the plainest footgear that his stock afforded.
"They are of a very small size,--perhaps too small. Had you not better try
them ere you buy? I could get a larger pair from Mr. Carter's store."
Truelove seated herself upon a convenient stool, and lifted her gray skirt
an inch above a slender ankle. "Perchance they may not be too small," she
said, and in despite of her training and the whiteness of her soul two
dimples made their appearance above the corners of her pretty mouth.
MacLean knelt to remove the worn shoe, but found in the shoestrings an
obstinate knot. The two had the store to themselves; for Ephraim waited
for his sister at the landing, rocking in his boat on the bosom of the
river, watching a flight of wild geese drawn like a snowy streamer across
the dark blue sky. It was late autumn, and the forest was dressed in flame
color.
"Thy fingers move so slowly that I fear thee is not well," said Truelove
kindly. "They that have nursed men with fever do often fall ill
themselves. Will thee not see a physician?"
MacLean, sanguine enough in hue, and no more gaunt of body than usual,
worked languidly on. "I trust no lowland physician," he said. "In my own
country, if I had need, I would send to the foot of Dun-da-gu for black
Murdoch, whose fathers have been physicians to the MacLeans of Duart since
the days of Galethus. The little man in this parish,--his father was a
lawyer, his grandfather a merchant; he knows not what was his
great-grandfather! There, the shoe is untied! If I came every day to your
father's house, and if your mother gave me to drink of her elder-flower
wine, and if I might sit on the sunny doorstep and watch you at your
spinning, I should, I think, recover."
He slipped upon her foot the shoe of black cloth. Truelove regarded it
gravely. "'Tis not too small, after all," she said. "And does thee not
think it more comely than these other, with their silly pomp of colored
heels and blossoms woven in the silk?" She indicated with her glance the
vainglorious row upon the bench beside her; then looked down at the little
foot in its sombre covering and sighed.