Chapter NineTwo days later, I again left the house. With Father at the courthouse in Haddington and Mother talking to Cook in the kitchen, I left Coffee in the stable and walked to the Garleton Hills. Once again I had discarded everything but the most practical of clothing, with a warm skirt of autumn brown, stout boots for the muddy fields, a travelling cloak of the same hue and my father's oldest tricorne hat. I was growing rather fond of that battered old hat.
'Where are you off to, Mary?'
'I'm off for a walk, Mother.' I said. 'I might call in at Catherine Brown.' I wondered if I could take Catherine into my confidence over all that had happened but decided that the temptation to say too much would be too great for even Catherine to bear.
It is a weary step from Cauldneb to the Garle
