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Updated: May 27, 2025
Pleading hard work as an excuse, Katherine avoided her after that evening, from a secret dread of any more confidences. This was easier than it otherwise would have been, owing to Mrs. Burton having taken the twins over to Fort Garry to spend a week with Mrs. M'Crawney, which left Katherine with the burden of housekeeping on her shoulders in addition to the business of the store.
M'Crawney was low-spirited and homesick, yearning for Ireland, for the smell of the peat reek and the society of her neighbours. "I shall die if I stay here much longer. It is stagnation, not life at all; indeed, I'd sooner be dead," moaned the poor discontented woman. "But you have books," said Katherine, pointing to a well-filled shelf in one corner of the room.
M'Crawney was an Irishwoman who was always sighing for the mild, moist climate and the peat reek of her childhood's home. But Peter knew when he was well off, and meant to stick to his post until he had saved enough money to live without work. "Teaching school, are you?
Well it's myself that would like to be one of your scholars, for it's bonny you look with that scarlet thing wrapped round your head!" exclaimed Mrs. M'Crawney in an admiring tone, when Katherine sat down to have a talk with her whilst 'Duke Radford did his business with the agent. "You can come if you like; we don't have any age limit at Roaring Water Portage," Katherine answered with a laugh.
Do you think you are going out of your mind?" demanded Katherine sharply; and turning from her dish-washing, she treated the woman to a calm appraising stare, which took in every detail, from the unbrushed hair straggling over the ragged nightdress to the unwashed, naked feet. "Going out of my mind?" screamed Mrs. M'Crawney in furious indignation. "Indeed no!
Now, I wonder who told you how badly I needed a woman of some sort to happen along this morning?" said Peter M'Crawney, coming out from the stockade on which the house was built, and advancing to meet Katherine, who was coming up from the shore with a great bundle of pelts on each shoulder, while Phil, laden in similar fashion, walked behind. "Does that mean that Mrs. M'Crawney is ill again?"
"There is Peter M'Crawney, with all the great Hudson's Bay Company behind him. That is our most formidable rival, while up on Marble Island there has been started a sort of United States General Stores and Canned Food Depot. Of course, that is eight hundred miles away, and should not be dangerous, but it makes more difference than anyone might suppose."
Then, seizing her in a bearlike embrace, the Irishwoman whispered: "It is downright ashamed of myself you've made me; and if I don't do better in future, then my name is not Juliana Kathleen M'Crawney, and never has been!" "Good-bye! We shall get home all right; don't worry about us," Katherine answered bravely.
"Please forgive me, I have no right to meddle in your concerns; but it just makes me feel wrathful to see you throwing away the happiness you might have, and existing in such dirt and discomfort, when everything about you might be clean, sweet, and wholesome." Mrs. M'Crawney dropped into a rocking-chair and laughed in great amusement.
Fort Garry was reached without incident, although, to Katherine's secret dismay, her father had not spoken to her once, but had just gone moodily forward with his head hanging down, and dragging the sledge after him. He roused up a little when the fort was reached, and talked to Peter M'Crawney, the agent, an eager-faced Scot with an insatiable desire for information on all sorts of subjects. Mrs.
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