One day Wilson rose at daybreak, and putting a threshing-flail over his shoulder, said he would be away for a week.
That week ensuing was a quiet one for the inmates of the cottage at Fornside.
Sim's daughter, Rotha, had about this time become a constant helper at Shoulthwaite Moss, where, indeed, she was treated with the cordiality proper to a member of the household.

Old Angus had but little sympathy to spare for the girl's father, but he liked Rotha's own cheerfulness, her winsomeness, and, not least, her usefulness.

She could milk and churn, and bake and brew.

This was the sort of young woman that Angus liked best.

"Rotha's a right heartsome lassie," he said, as he heard her in the dairy singing while she worked.