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One of these occasions was the morning of Wark's warning, which, however, Vida determined to say nothing about till she was obliged. She had just handed up her cup for replenishing when the door opened, and, to the surprise of the ladies, the master of the house appeared on the threshold. 'Is is anything the matter? faltered his wife, half rising. 'Matter?
He kens my wark's worth my wages whatever he likes to set me til. Mair by token he wad hae tellt me himsel'! I s' jist gang straucht back an' speir." She turned, evidently in thorough earnest, and set off at a rapid pace back towards the house. Cosmo glanced at Elsie. She had turned white with the whiteness of fear, not of wrath. She had not expected such action on the part of Aggie.
I hit Sandy blether awa' for a whilie, an' syne I strikes in, "Ay, juist that, Sandy; but you'll mibby g'wa' an' get that tume saft soap barrel scraipit oot, an' the wechts gi'en a black lead; an' we'll hear aboot the Toon Cooncil efter your wark's dune."
"I'm muckle obleeged to ye, Miss Elsie," replied Cosmo. "It'll save me a half-mile i' the mornin'." "An' my father says," resumed Elsie, addressing Agnes, "yer wark's no worth yer wages." Aggie turned upon her with flashing eyes and glowing face. "I dinna believe ye, Miss Elsie," she said. "I dinna believe yer father said ever sic a word.
For Wark's characteristic retort had been to pack her box and go to spend sixteen months among her kinsfolk, where energy was accounted a virtue, and smooth ways held in suspicion. At the end of that time, seeming to judge the lesson she wished to impart had been sufficiently digested, Wark wrote to Miss Vida proposing to come back. For some months she waited for the answer.
If there were no laughter-wrought lines about the eyes, neither was there mark of grief or self-repression near the mouth. She would, you felt, defy Time as successfully as she defied lesser foes. Even the lank, straw-coloured hair hardly showed the streaks of yellow-white that offered their unemphatic clue to Wark's age.
"I want," he said, sourly, "twilve good min, but I don't know that I can git them. Ye're a lot o' bog-trotters that don't know enough to heave on a capstan." "The hill we don't!" uttered a Galway man close to him. "We l'arned thot in Checa-a-go." "Ye mane," said Murphy, "that the Limerick boys tried to l'arn, but they couldn't. The wark's too hard." "Fwat's too ha-a-rd?" answered the Galway.
Yince a'body was gled to see me, and wad keep me as lang's I wantit, and had aye a gud word at meeting and pairting. Noo it's a' changed, and my wark's dune." I saw fine that the man was daft, but what answer could I gie to his havers? Folk in the Callowa Glens are as kind as afore, but ill weather and auld age had put queer notions intil his heid.
'I'm late, as ye said, I added, rising, 'I must be off to my work at the booth. 'Ay, ay, returned my uncle, 'wark's aye best in an evil day. As soon as my work was finished for the day I hastened to call upon 'the Meenister, and, finding him at home, at once informed him of my discovery of the night, and of my uncle's satirical mention of poor Mr. Macalister's fate.
Vida looked at her, more perplexed than ever by the curious regard in the hard-featured countenance. For there was something very like dumb reproach in Wark's face. Even if I should be smashed up in a motor accident I know you're always expecting that even if I were killed to-morrow, still you'd find I hadn't forgotten you, Wark. 'It isn't that, miss. It isn't death I'm afraid of.
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