THE MANSE IN THE BUSH
at the kitchen door startled her, and before long she heard Jessie's voice rise wrathful.
"Indeed, I'll do no such thing. This is no time to come to the minister's house."
For answer there was a mumble of words.
"Well, then, you can just wait until morning. She can go in the morning."
"What is it, Jessie?" The minister's wife came into the kitchen.
"Oh, Ranald, I'm glad to see you back. Hughie told me you had come. But your father is ill, he said. How is he?"
Ranald shook hands shyly, feeling much ashamed under Jessie's sharp reproof.
"Indeed, it was Aunt Kirsty that sent me," said Ranald, apologetically.
"Then she ought to have known better," said Jessie, sharply.
"Never mind, Jessie. Ranald, tell me about your father."
"He is very bad indeed, and my aunt is afraid that—" The boy's lip trembled. Then he went on: "And she thought perhaps you might have some medicine, and—"
"But what is the matter, Ranald?"
"He was hurted bad—and he is not right wise in his head."
"But how was he hurt?"
Ranald hesitated.
"I was not there—I am thinking it was something that struck him."
49
