A Daughter of Fife

"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,

"I meant nae harm, Maggie."

"I'll no answer you anither word. And mind what I told you. Dinna cross my

doorstane. You'll get the red face if you try it." She could have shut the

door, but she would have thought the act a kind of humiliation. She

preferred to stand guard at its threshold, until Angus, with a black scowl

and some muttered words of anger, walked away. She watched him until he

leaped into his boat; until he was fairly out to sea. Then she shut and

barred the door; and sitting down in her father's chair, wept

passionately; wept as women weep, before they have learned the uselessness

of tears, and the strength of self-restraint.