2
Father turned his head from side to side to examine the heather pegs he was making.
“There could be a hundred reasons for a man on the hillside,” he said. “I’ll pass the word around and see if it was any one of us. If not, then I will worry.”
I said nothing. I had told Father and now I would forget all about the stranger on the hill. It was no longer my concern. Other things, however, were.
“He was a handsome enough boy,” Mother looked up from the spinning wheel she had moved outside to get the benefit of the sunlight. “Does he interest you?”
I thought about Ensign Hepburn with his clipped, Edinburgh accent and his freckled face. I could not help smiling. “He is very shy,” I said, “and he has slender hands.”
“He has slender hands?” Mother repeated. “Is that a good point or a bad po
