I hae loved you a' my days. You maun ken that, I think. Speak
up, Mysie, an' tell me if you care for me. I want you, an' I maun ken
what you think o' it. Come, Mysie, tell me!"
"Oh, dinna ask me, Rob," she pleaded. "Dinna ask me!"
"What is the matter then?" he cried. "There's something wrong, an'
you'll no' tell me. Very well, tell me what you mean to do. I hae asked
you a fair question. Are you going to marry me? I want yes or no to
that," and there was a touch of impatience creeping into his voice.
"Come on," he urged, after a short silence, broken only by Mysie's sobs,
"gie me an answer. Or, if you wad raither wait a wee while, till this
trouble has blawn by that is bothering you, I'm quite agreeable to
wait."
"It'll never blaw by, Rob," she sobbed. "Oh, dinna ask me ony mair. I
canna be your wife noo, an' I jist want to be left alane!"
The pain and despair in her voice alarmed him. It was so keen and
poignant, and went to his heart like a knife.
"Oh!" he gasped in surprise, as he strove to call his pride to his
assistance. It was so unlike what he had anticipated that it amazed him
to have such a disappointing reply. Then, recovering somewhat:--"Very
well!" with great deliberation, while his voice sounded unnaturally
strained.
Pages:
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220