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Updated: May 27, 2025
He was not yet old enough to be under the spell of the witchery of those eyes; but then Winsome's eye controlled his sister Meg's hand, and for that latter organ he had a most profound respect.
It looks brave and baggy." "I think I will do without for the present," said Ralph. "Aweel," said Jock, "ye may, but I'm gaun to hae my breakfast a' the same, sillar or no sillar." In twenty minutes he was back by the dykeside, where he had left Ralph sitting, twining Winsome's purse through his fingers, and thinking on the future, and all that was awaiting him in Edinburgh town.
"Gae wa' frae the wunda, Jock, and I'll get up," said Meg, with a brevity which betokened the importance of the news. In a little while Meg was in Winsome's room. The greyish light of early morning was just peeping in past the little curtain. On the chair lay the lilac-sprigged muslin dress of her grandmother's, which Winsome had meant to put on next morning to the kirk.
She was about to say something to Meg, but that erratic and privileged domestic was in her own room by this time at the top of the house, with the door barred. But something like tears stood in Winsome's eyes. She was very angry indeed. She would speak to Meg in the morning. She was mistress of the house, and not to be treated as a child. Meg should have her warning to leave at the term.
It's aye been a hangin' maitter, an' Jock's no the man to turn again the rule an' custom o' his forebears. 'Yince gang, yince hang, is Jock's motto." Ralph did not press the point. But he had some unexpected feeling in saying good-bye to Jock. It was not so easy. He tried to put three of Winsome's guineas into his hand, but Jock would have none of them. "ME wi' gowden guineas!" he said.
There was a shout of laughter at the expense of Ebie, in which Meg thought that she heard an answering ripple from within Winsome's room. "Surely, Jock, ye were never prayin' to the deil?" asked Meg from the window, very seriously. "Ye ken far better than that." "An' what for should I no pray to the deil? He's a desperate onsonsy chiel yon. It's as weel to be in wi' him as oot wi' him ony day.
For a thrilling moment Winsome's golden coronet of curls touched his breast, and, as he told himself after long years, rested willingly there while his heart beat at least ten times. Unfortunately, it did not take long to beat ten times. One moment more, and without any doubt Ralph would have taken Winsome in his arms.
As Winsome's grandmother would have said, "It's no easy turnin' a coo when she gets the gate o' the corn." Winsome looked at the green patch and the dark spot upon it. "Tell me," she said, looking up at him, "why you ran away that day?" Ralph Peden was nothing if not frank. "Because," he said, "I thought you were going to take off your stockings!"
"You know," said Allan Welsh, again untrue to himself, "that it is not for Ralph Peden's good that he should love you." The formal part of him was dictating the words. "I know you think so, and I am here to ask you why," said Winsome fearlessly. "And if I persuade you, will you forbid him?" said Allan Welsh, convinced of his own futility. Winsome's heart caught the accent of insincerity.
He had thought a woman's hair was like floss silk at least Winsome's, for he had theorized about none other. "Winsome, dear!" he said, again bending his head to look down, "I have to go far away, and I wanted to tell you. You are not angry with me, sweetest, for asking you to come? I could not go without bidding you good-bye, and in the daytime I might not have seen you alone.
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