To-night I made up my mind to speak to Frank Thomson and his wife. I
knew that Jim would be miserable as long as he carried so weighty a
secret on him; I knew that he was itching to rush through the village
shouting: "The Mester's gaein' to be married to Maggie Tamson ... and
Aw'm to be his best man!"
I went over about eight o'clock. The children were in bed, and Margaret
sat in the kitchen with her father and mother.
"I want to marry Margaret," I said when I entered.
Frank was reading _The People's Journal_. The paper fluttered slightly,
and that was the only sign of surprise that came from him.
"Yea, Mester?" he said slowly. "Man, d'ye tell me that na? Aw see that
the Roosians are makin' some progress again." He buried his head in his
paper after throwing a look to his wife. The look clearly meant: "This
is a matter for you to tak up, Lizzie."
Mrs. Thomson laid down her knitting carefully; then she rubbed her
glasses with her apron. She glanced at Margaret, and Margaret rose and
left the room quietly. I knew that she left the door half-closed so that
she might hear from the stair-foot.
Her mother looked at me over her glasses.
"She's gey young," she said.
"A year older than you were when you married," I said with a smile.
She sat in deep thought for a long time. Then she turned to her husband.
"Frank," she said in a matter-of-fact voice, "ye'll better bring oot the
whiskey."
That was all. Neither of them asked a question about my financial
position, or my hopes. Mrs. Thomson went to the door and called
Margaret's name, and when she entered the kitchen her mother simply
said: "Maggie, ye micht bring a few coals like a lassie."
A stranger from a foreign land looking on would have wondered at the
unconcern of the whole thing. The family talked about everything but the
subject of the moment, but I knew by the way in which they made
conversation that they were striving to hide their real feelings.
When I rose to leave I turned to Frank.
"I don't know what plans I have," I said, "but the chances are that I'll
go to live in London some day soon."
Frank waved a protesting hand.
"Never mind that ee'noo," he cried. "Maggie!... ye'll better see the
Mester to the door, lassie!"
"They're awfu' pleased!" whispered Margaret at the door.
"Are they, Margaret?" I said tenderly.
"Yes! But it isn't because you are so clever, you know!"
"Rather because I am so handsome?"
"No. They're pleased because you are an M.A."
Then she laughed at my look of chagrin.
* * *
This morning I met Jim.
"Jim," I said, "you are free to speak now."
He made no reply; he sprang over a gate and flew towards the village.
The girls came up in a body at four o'clock.
"Is't true?" cried Janet as she ran up breathlessly.
"What? Is what true?"
"That you and Maggie are to be married?"
"The answer is in the affirmative," I said pompously.
Janet's face fell.
"Eh, if Aw had that Jim Jackson! He telt us that he was to be yer best
man!"
"He was aye a big leer!" cried Ellen, then she saw that I was smiling.
"It's true after a'!" she cried.
"Yes," I said, "it's true, bairns," but to my surprise they rushed off
and left me. I understood their action when I turned to look; they had
seen Margaret emerge from the kitchen door. Poor Margaret! The whole
crowd of them insisted on pinching her arms for luck. They seemed to
have forgotten my existence; then suddenly they all came running towards
me.
"Let me tell 'im, Jan!" I heard Annie cry, but Jan tore herself from
restraining arms and was first to come up.
"The Mester's gotten a little baby!" cried Janet.
"Janet's wrang!" cried Annie; "it's no the Mester: it's his wife!"