resolute stand at her door-stone angered him, "I'm coming in a wee," he
said dourly, "there are words to be said between us."

"You are wrang there too, Angus. I hae neither this, nor that, to say to
you; and I'm busy the day."

"I spoke to your fayther and your brother Will, anent a marriage between
us, and you heard tell o' it."

"Ay, they told me."

"And you let me walk wi' you frae the kirk on the next Sabbath.--I'm no
going to be jilted, Maggie Promoter, by you."

"Dinna daur to speak that way to me, Angus. I never said I wad wed you,
and I dinna believe I ever sall say it. Think shame o' yoursel' for
speaking o' marrying before the tide has washed the footmarks o' the dead
off the sea sands. Let go my hand, Angus."

"It is my hand, and I'll claim it as long as you live. And it will be ill
for any ither body that daurs to touch it."

"Daurs indeed! I'll no be daured by any body, manfolk or womanfolk. You
hae gi'en me an insult, Angus Raith, and dinna cross my door-stane any
more, till you get the invite to do so."

She stepped within her open door and faced him. Her eyes blazed, her whole
attitude was that of defiance. The passions, which in well-bred women are
educated clean down out of sight, were in Maggie Promoter's tongue tip and
finger tips. Angus saw it would not do to anger her further, and he said,