Amelia Barr - Christine - A Fife Fisher Girl

Neil was pleased, and displeased. He felt that it would have been better for him if Christine had not interfered, but there was the delayed writing to be finished, and he hurried up the steep pathway to the cottage. Some straying vines caught his careless footsteps, and threw him down, and though he was not hurt, the circumstance annoyed him. As soon as he entered the cottage, he was met by Christine, and her first remark added to his discomfort:

“Whate’er hae you been doing to yoursel’, Neil Ruleson? Your coat is torn, and your face scratched. Surely you werna fighting wi’ your friend.”

“You know better, Christine. I was thrown by those nasty blackberry vines. I intend to cut them all down. They catch everyone that passes them, and they are in everyone’s way. They ought to be cleared out, and I will attend to them tomorrow morning, if I have to get up at four o’clock to do it.”

“You willna touch the vines. Feyther likes their fruit, and Mither is planning to preserve part o’ it. And I, mysel’, am vera fond o’ vines. The wee wrens, and the robin redbreasts, look to the vines for food and shelter, and you’ll not dare to hurt their feelings, for

“Stop, Christine, I have a great deal to think of, and to ask your help in.”

“Weel, Neil, I was ready for you at three o’clock, and then you werna ready for me.”

“Tell me why you dressed yourself up so much? Did you know Ballister was coming?”

“Not I! Did you think I dressed mysel’ up for Angus Ballister?”

“I was wondering. It is very seldom you wear your gold necklace, and other things, for just home folk.”

“Weel, I wasn’t wearing them for just hame folk. Jennie Tweedie is to be married tonight, and Mither had promised her I should come and help them lay the table for the supper, and the like o’ that. Sae I was dressed for Jennie Tweedie’s bridal. I wasna thinking of either you, or your fine friend.”

“I thought perhaps you had heard he was coming. Your fisher dress is very suitable to you. No doubt you look handsome in it. You likely thought its novelty would – would – make him fall in love with you.”

“I thought naething o’ that sort. Novelty! Where would the novelty be? The lad is Fife. If he was sae unnoticing as never to get acquaint wi’ a Culraine fisher-wife, he lived maist o’ his boyhood in Edinburgh. Weel, he couldna escape seeing the Newhaven fisherwomen there, nor escape hearing their wonderful cry o’ ‘Caller herrin’!’ And if he had ony feeling in his heart, if he once heard that cry, sae sweet, sae heartachy, and sae winning, he couldna help looking for the woman who was crying it; and then he couldna help seeing a fisher-wife, or lassie. I warn you not to think o’ me, Christine Ruleson, planning and dressing mysel’ for any man. You could spane my love awa’ wi’ a very few o’ such remarks.”

“I meant nothing to wrong you, Christine. All girls dress to please the men.”

“Men think sae. They are vera mich mista’en. Girls dress to outdress each ither. If you hae any writing to do, I want to gie you an hour’s wark. I’ll hae to leave the rest until morning.”

Then Neil told her the whole of the proposal Angus had made him. He pointed out its benefits, both for the present and the future, and Christine listened thoughtfully to all he said. She saw even further than Neil did, the benefits, and she was the first to name the subject nearest to Neil’s anxieties.

“You see, Neil,” she said, “if you go to Ballister, you be to hae the proper dress for every occasion. The best suit ye hae now will be nane too good for you to wark, and to play in. You must hae a new suit for ordinary wear, forbye a full dress suit. I’ll tell you what to do – David Finlay, wha dresses a’ the men gentry round about here, is an old, old friend o’ Feyther’s. They herded together, and went to school and kirk togither, and Feyther and him have helped each ither across hard places, a’ their life long.”

“I don’t want any favors from David Finlay.”

“Hae a little patience, lad. I’m not asking you to tak’ favors from anyone. I, mysel’, will find the money for you; but I canna tell you how men ought to dress, nor what they require in thae little odds and ends, which are so important.”

“Odds and ends! What do you mean?”

“Neckties, gloves, handkerchiefs, hats, and a proper pocket book for your money. I saw Ballister take his from his pocket, to put the laburnum leaves in, and I had a glint o’ the bank bills in it, and I ken weel it is more genteel-like than a purse. I call things like these ‘odds and ends.’”

“Such things cost a deal of money, Christine.”

“I was coming to that, Neil. I hae nearly ninety-six pounds in the bank. It hes been gathering there, ever since my grandfeyther put five pounds in for me at my baptisement – as a nest egg, ye ken – and all I hae earned, and all that Feyther or Mither hae gien me, has helped it gather; and on my last birthday, when Feyther gave me a pound, and Mither ten shillings, I had ninety-six pounds. Now, Neil, dear lad, you can hae the use o’ it all, if so be you need it. Just let Dave Finlay tell you what to get, and get it, and pay him for it – you can pay me back, when money comes easy to you.”

“Thank you, Christine! You have always been my good angel. I will pay you out o’ my first earnings. I’ll give you good interest, and a regular I. O. U. which will be – ”

“What are you saying, Neil? Interest! Interest! Interest on love? And do you dare to talk to me anent your I. O. U. If I canna trust your love, and your honor, I’ll hae neither interest nor paper from you. Tak my offer wi’ just the word between us, you are vera welcome to the use o’ the money. There’s nae sign o’ my marrying yet, and I’ll not be likely to want it until my plenishing and napery is to buy. You’ll go to Finlay, I hope?”

“I certainly will. He shall give me just what is right.”

“Now then, my time is up. I will be ready to do your copying at five o’clock in the morning. Then, after breakfast, you can go to the town, but you won’t win into the Bank before ten, and maist likely Finlay will be just as late. Leave out the best linen you hae, and I’ll attend to it, wi’ my ain hands.”

“Oh, Christine, how sweet and good you are! I’m afraid I am not worthy o’ your love!”

“Vera likely you are not. Few brothers love their sisters as they ought to. It willna be lang before you’ll do like the lave o’ them, and put some strange lass before me.”

“There’s nae lass living that can ever be to me what you hae been, and are. You hae been mother and sister baith, to me.”

“Dear lad, I love thee with a’ my heart. All that is mine, is thine, for thy use and help, and between thee and me the word and the bond are the same thing.”

Christine was much pleased because Neil unconsciously had fallen into his Scotch dialect. She knew then that his words were spontaneous, not of consideration, but of feeling from his very heart.

In a week the change contemplated had been fully accomplished. Neil had become accustomed to the luxury of his new home, and was making notable progress in the work which had brought him there.

Twice during the week Margot had been made royally happy by large baskets of wonderful flowers and fruit, from the Ballister gardens. They were brought by the Ballister gardener, and came with Neil’s love and name, but Margot had some secret thoughts of her own. She suspected they were the result of a deeper and sweeter reason than a mere admiration for her wonderful little garden among the rocks; but she kept such thoughts silent in her heart. One thing she knew well, that if Christine were twitted on the subject, she would hate Angus Ballister, and utterly refuse to see him. So she referred to the gifts as entirely from Neil, and affected a little anxiety about their influence on Ballister.