"I'll ne'er scrimp the childer, God bless them!" he thought, "for it will be a happy day to James Ruleson, when he sees them runnin' to these acres wi' books and balls in their hands."
Then he went home, and Margot said something about his Sunday claes, but James did not heed her. He put on a clean shirt, and a suit of blue flannel. His shirt was open at the throat, his feet were in boots that reached nearly to his knees. But he had a grandly satisfied look, and the beautiful courtesy of men who as a rule think only good of their neighbors, and do only good to them.
Margot, like Christine, was in her fisher-costume, with little accentuations in Christine's case; but Margot was the very mate for the splendid man she called "her man." Scotch, from head to feet, douce and domestic, yet cleverer than James, though obedient to him--a good woman, fit for the work of this world, and not forgetful concerning a better one.
Keeping in mind the Domine's directions about a cup of tea, Christine laid the table with their best linen and china, and though no difference was made in the food provided, Christine saw that it was well cooked. After all, it was quite an event for James Ruleson, and in the outcome of it he expected to realize one of the greatest pleasures that could come to him.
About five o'clock the Domine and Ballister arrived. They entered a room full of the feeling of home. It was clean, and white as a snow drift, and there was a bright fire blazing on the hearth. The covered table with its knives and forks and spoons, and its gilt rimmed teacups, was in itself a symbol of hospitality. The Domine looked at it, and then said, "Margot, you are baking sea trout. I told you never to do that again, when I was coming, unless you intended asking me to help in the eating of it."
"Today, they were cooked special for you, Sir, and I hope you will hae the good will to pleasure me in the eating o' them."
"Certainly, Margot, certainly! I could not resist your invitation."
Hearing these words, Ruleson rose, and said, "Colonel, if you will join the Domine at the meal God has gi'en us, James Ruleson will gladly break bread with you."
After these preliminaries, Christine served the meal, and then waited on her parents and their guests. They ate the fish with great enjoyment. It was to the Colonel a gastronomical discovery. No anchovy, no sauces of any kind, just the delicate fish, baked with a few slices of Ayrshire ham, and served with potatoes boiled in their jackets so skillfully that the jackets dropped from them when touched. It was a dish pure and simple, and captivated every palate. Nothing more was needed that Christine's quiet service and the animated conversation did not supply. As to Margot, she was kept busy filling small cups with that superexcellent tea we get in Scotland, and find it next to impossible to get anywhere else.