It had recently been put into order, and new,
bright utensils hung upon the ranges of pins and hooks against the wall.

But Stair's food seemed to choke him, somehow. He felt the imperious
need of speech.

"Oh, Patsy!" he began--but he got no farther. Patsy was in possession of
the field in a moment.

"Stair," she said warningly, as she held up her hand to stop him;
"Stair, you have never failed me yet. Don't let me trust you in vain. I
married you because I had need of you--"

"Not," said Stair, speaking disjointedly, "not because you wanted to
marry me--not because--you loved me?"

"Oh, I wanted to marry you! Yes, I wanted that. I needed you to help me
to do what I could not do in any other way. But--wait a while. Neither
you nor I know what love means yet. _I_ certainly do not. I am too
young. Meanwhile, you are the most dependable person in my world. Let
love alone for a little. What difference can it make to you and me? Let
us help one another, depend one on the other--I have run off with you,
and if you are under age I dare say I could be put into prison for that.
But that is the way of the Pict woman. What she wants, she takes. I ran
away from London. I took you out of prison, and when I had you, I
brought you here to live on herrings. I wanted to be rid of princes who
pestered me to marry them, of royal dukes who ran away with me, of kind
uncles and princesses who thought to make my bed all eider down and
cotton wool, my food all rose-leaves and honey!"

"I understand--I understand," said Stair, with a certain fierce
determination in his eye, "you shall have no cause to regret that you
have chosen me as your squire and armour-bearer. I shall not claim more
than is my due, and of what that is I have a very small opinion indeed!"

Patsy looked at Stair. He seemed to be understanding--almost too well.
There was no need that he should remove himself to so vast a distance.
She wanted them to be two comrades--two Crusoes without a man Friday,
working harmoniously for the common good of the community. But Stair
held out for a position frankly subaltern.

"If you will tell me what I am to do--you know the place better than
I--it is time to do it!" He was outwardly calm, inwardly raging, as he
spoke.

"There is, thank you, some water to bring in--the spring is within the
courtyard. The well-rope has a bucket. Thank you!"

And Patsy was left alone. She thought Stair Garland long in returning.
He had, indeed,