made up like beds, wi wee blankets and pillas, and ither dolls in ilka ane bune the end ane. And on the rug there were wee dolls’ claes. The English body had been playin wi them, juist like a bairn.
I kent aa at ance what I suld hae jaloused frae the stert, that the twa weemen were dafties.
I turnt and ran awa up the stair.
I didna like to gang in to my minnie and tell her I was feart, sae I stude in the lobby and waitit. And it wasna lang afore I noticed something. There was a big siller bowl in the lobby, that Tam had won for sweet peas at the Lanark show, and aye afore it had been keepit fou ο flouers. Nou it was tuim.
Tam wad miss them, I thocht, though I couldna think what had possessed him to let Mary get mairrit. I wad hae putten my fute doun.
I had been waitin for a gey while, and was beginnin to feel wearit, whan there was a rattle ο tea-cups frae the kitchen stairs, and the wee daftie cam forrit wi a tray. I ran oot to the front steps as she gaed forrit to the paurlor door, and afore she was richt through it I was hauf wey to the road yett. I didna like the thocht ο the place. Daft men were ae thing, frichtenin craws or fetchin berry baskets in the fields ootbye, or scrapin pats at the back door and cairryin raiks ο watter, but daft weemen in the hoose itsell were anither athegither.
When my minnie cam oot I telt her I didna want to gang near the Gill again.
‘I wadna hae taen ye,’ she said, ‘gin I had kent they wad frichten ye.’
‘What wey daes Tam Lauder hae daft weemen?’
‘To save siller, likely. It’s juist the gentry that can afford to pey for servants.’
And I had thocht Tam was weill aff.
It was weill through the winter afore I was near the Gill again. I was oot wi my grandfaither wi the gun efter phaisants, and we were walkin alang the mairch hedge atween Tam’s grun and oor ain, whan I spied Tam’s hoose through the trees.
‘Grandfaither?’
‘Ay?’
‘Tam Lauder has twa daft weemen.’
‘No nou. He gat redd ο them at Yule.’
‘Is Mary back?’
‘Na.’
‘Wha keeps the hoose nou, then?’
‘A wumman comes in frae Kirkfieldbank to clean, juist.’
‘What wey daes Mary no come back?’
‘She has a hoose ο her ain, nou. Quait, will ye, or I’ll hae to send ye hame.’
I said naer mair, but I couldna help thinkin it wasna like Mary to leave her mither like that.
I was daein her wrang, though, for there was anither thing I didna ken.
I learnt it frae my cuisin Jockie, whan I was back at the same hedge again, in the simmer, efter birds’ nests. I happened to mention hou mony nests Mary had kent, and said it was a peety she wasna still at the Gill, when he gied me a queer sleekit look.
‘Dan Finlay’s gien her a bairn.’
‘A bairn? Whaur did he get it?’
‘He gied her it. Hou daes a bull gie a cou a cauf?’
I didna ken, and I didna like the look he had gien me, sae I ran awa up to the shed, whaur my grannie was weying the strawberries into fower pund baskets, and packin them into crates for the mercat.
‘Grannie?’
‘Ay?’
‘Is it true that Mary Lauder has a bairn?’
‘Ay. She has a wee lassie. She’s Mrs Finlay nou, at Nether Affleck. Wha’s been tellin ye aboot it?’
‘My cuisin Jockie.’
‘What was he sayin?’
I didna like to tell her what he had been sayin. She saw that I was haudin something back.
‘He hasna been sayin ocht aboot the affair at Yule, has he?’
‘Na.’
‘I hope no. There’s been ower muckle talk, and it frichtens folk.’
‘What happened at Yule, grannie?’
‘Dinna fash yer heid. Forget aa aboot it. Rin awa doun to yer grandfaither and tell him I’m running oot ο crates.’
It was a lang time afore I fand oot what had happened at Yule, and by that time I wasna sae green.
This was the wey ο it.
Whan Mary first gat mairrit she was able to gang aboot her mither ilka ither day, to keep her frae wearyin, but efter that, wi the bairn to fend for, she was haurdly able to rin doun to the Gill at aa, and her mither began to fret, especially for a sicht o the bairn. Tam gat that worrit to see her sae dowie that in the end he wad hear ο nocht bune that the bairn suld be brocht to its grannie to bide ower Yule.
By this time Mrs Lauder had taen to her bed, in the paurlour closet, but she could sit up and gaffer, and she had the hoose like a pictur. Tam had sortit some holly oot into dentie wee sprigs, and they had been struck up aa roun the room, some abune the mantel-piece, some abune the picturs, and some roun the bust ο Rabbie Burns. There was mair in the big bedroom up the front stairs, whaur Mary was to sleep wi her Dan, and her ain wuiden creddle had been gotten frae the garret, to save her bringin the bairn’s, and whan it was dune up wi lace, and laid atween the fire-end and the bed, wi a holly brainch stuck to the croun ο its rufe, and a new rattle hung frae ane ο its corners, it was like a fairy thing.
Mary didna ken it, but the feck ο the wark on the creddle had been dune by the wee daftie.
It was snawin whan Dan drave doun wi the gig, but Mary had the bairn weill happit, and her ain cheeks were bricht wi the drive in the cauld. Tam liftit the bairn doun and cairrit it straucht in to Mrs Lauder, leavin Dan to look efter Mary and syne gang to the stable to tether his horse. Bye and bye they were aa roun Mrs Lauder’s bed, and she was fair joco, sortin the bairn’s hippen and deivin Mary wi guid advice. Tam and Dan had a dram, Mary had a gless ο Madeira, and aa were in fettle for a grand Yule.
The efternune wore on, though, and Mary gaed up the front stairs to feed the bairn and gie it some sleep. Mrs Lauder lay doun. The fash had wearit her. Tam and Dan gaed doun to the kitchen to sleep aff their dram and wait for tea-time.
The twa dafties stertit to lay the table.
The bairn fed its fill and fell awa frae Mary’s breist, sleepin at ance. Mary held it for a while, syne laid it in the creddle. She was sleepy hersell, for the fire had been made up heich and the room was cosie. She drew a big chair close to the fire and sat doun to nod.
It
