The lad covered his face with his hands, and sobbed aloud.
"Bell," I whispered; "go to the cupboard and get the poor fellow
something to eat. The boy is starving."
"Dinna heed him, mistress, dinna credit his lees. He is ane o' those
wicked Papists wha ha' just stepped in to rob and murder us."
"Nonsense! Do as I bid you."
"I winna be fashed aboot him. An' if he bides here, I'll e'en flit
by the first blink o' the morn."
"Isabel, for shame! Is this acting like a Christian, or doing as you
would be done by?"
Bell was as obstinate as a rock, not only refusing to put down any
food for the famished lad, but reiterating her threat of leaving the
house if he were suffered to remain. My husband, no longer able to
endure her selfish and absurd conduct, got angry in good earnest,
and told her that she might please herself; that he did not mean to
ask her leave as to whom he received into his house. I, for my part,
had no idea that she would realise her threat. She was an excellent
servant, clean, honest, and industrious, and loved the dear baby.
