"Well?" said Mary, when Käthchen came into the room. But she had already seen, from the window, that her messenger was returning alone.
"Oh," said Käthchen, in an indifferent sort of fashion—and she began to gather up some samples of homespun that were strewn on the table—"he says he is going out to Heimra at once. He has sent for Big Archie. He says—he says—that he is glad if he has rendered you any little service—but you are not to think of it."
Mary’s eyes had grown full of wonder. For out of these windows she could plainly see that he was still waiting on the beach: the fact being that the boy Alan had failed to find Big Archie at the inn, and had gone off to seek him throughout the cottages.
"But did you tell Mr. Ross that I wished to speak with him?" she asked.
"I said that you most particularly wished to speak with him."
"Then he—he begged to be excused," said Käthchen, bluntly.
Mary turned sharply away from the window, and for a second or two she was silent.
"Why did you say ’most particularly’? What right had you to give him any such message?" she demanded, with something of a cold and dignified air, but not looking towards Käthchen.
"Those were your very words, Mamie!" Käthchen protested.
"I may have said something like that—in the hurry of calling to you," Mary said, with flushed face. "But you ought to have known. You might have known it was not a message I wanted given to anyone—not to anyone. However, it is of little consequence." She advanced to the table—her head somewhat erect. "I suppose," she said, in a matter-of-fact way, "you will be writing about those samples to the Frasers, in Inverness?"
"Very well," she continued, still with that air of unconcern; "you might say to them at the same time that we can get patchwork quilts made for them at from ten to twelve shillings the piece, if they send us the materials. That is the price I promised to the women here. And if they prefer the stockings made longer, I will have them made longer; only they must give me a little more for them—there is so much more wool and so much more work."
She glanced furtively over her shoulder: it was only now that Big Archie had made his appearance—coming down the beach to the spot at which young Ross was idly walking about.