Maggie's knitting dropped into her lap and she looked up, her soft eyes for once flashing.
"It's cruel, David; so 'tis!" she cried. "I wonder yo' bide wi' him. If he treated me so, I'd no stay anither minute. If it meant the House for me I'd go," and she looked as if she meant it.
"Han' yo' niver guessed why I stop, lass, and me so happy at home?" he asked eagerly.
"Hoo should I know?" she asked innocently. "Nor care, neither, I s'pose," he said in reproachful accents. "Yo' want me me to go and leave yo', and go reet awa'; I see hoo 'tis. Yo' wouldna mind, not yo', if yo' was niver to see pore David agin. I niver thowt yo' wellylike me, Maggie; and noo I know it."
"Yo' silly lad," the girl murmured, knitting steadfastly.
"Then yo' do," he cried, triumphant, "I knew yo' did." He approached close to her chair, his face clouded with eager anxiety.
"But d'yo' like me more'n just likin-', Mag-. gie? dy'yo'," he bent and whispered in the little ear.
The girl cuddled over her work so that he could not see her face.
