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family at Rathard. Again, she was too old and wise in the ways of her
neighbours to get caught up in any quarrel between the cousins. So she
drew in her lips, raised her knitting, and remained silent.
But Pentland also realised hi3 mistake and now he was intent on
justifying his remarks. He came and oat down, drawing his chair closer
so that he could look into Agnes’s face. "Tell me, Agnes, how would you
feel if ye had to sit, night after night, beside a man that’s sneering
and smirking at every word ye say?"
"What makes ye think Frankie would be sneering at ye?" asked the
old woman coldly.
"God in Heaven! don't I see it on his face, every time I look at
him?"
"For why?"
Pentland relapsed back into his chair. "I think he’s carrying on
wi’ Sarah" he said in a low hard voice.
Agnes stirred uneasily. But she laid down her knitting and laughed.
"Ye sit there and tell me the girl favours ye and you’re worrying about
Frank Echlin girning and cracking his fingers at ye over the fire? D’ye
think if he was prospering wi’ her that ye’d be let in sight o' the close
o’ Rathard? If ye believe that you're no long frae your mother’s teat!”
"D'ye think there's nothing in it, then?" asked Pentland unable to
stifle the relief in his voice.
"I know there's nothing in it" declared the woman stoutly. "If ye
want the girl dont go footerin at her as if ye didna. And for Frankie's
sneers, pay nae heed to him. Remember the ould saying that the bee leaves
a sting where he snooks nae honey."
"You’re right, no doubt" said Pentland springing up with a smile.
