"I am starting within an hour or so for Deemouth, but could not bear
to go without telling you that your father has no objection to my saying to
you what I please. He means to have a talk with you to-morrow morning, and
as I cannot possibly get back from Deemouth before Monday, I must now
express the hope that he will not succeed in persuading you to doubt the
reality of my love. I admire your father more than I can tell you, but he
seems to hold the affections God has given us of small account compared
with his judgment of the strength and reality of them."
"Did he no tell ye I was free to do or say what I liked?" rejoined Maggie
rather sharply.
"Yes; he did say something to that effect."
"Then, for mysel, and i' the name o' my father, I tell ye, Maister
Bletherwick, I dinna care to see ye again."
"Do you mean what you say, Margaret?" rejoined the minister, in a voice
that betrayed not a little genuine emotion.
"I do mean it," she answered.
"Not if I tell you that I am both ready and willing to take the child and
bring him up as my own?"
"He wouldna _be_ yer ain!"
"Quite as much as yours!"
"Hardly," she returned, with a curious little laugh.
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