"No, dear, it is only of you I am thinking. I love you very much and
want to do what is right. Even although this had not happened, I was
going to ask you to be my wife. Will you marry me, Mysie?"
"What'll your folks say?" she asked bluntly. "You ken that I'm no' the
wife you would have gotten nor the yin your folk would like you to get,"
she said, searching his face with a keen look. "I'm no' born in your
class. I'm ignorant an' have not the fine manners your wife should have,
an' I doot neither your faither nor your mither wad consent to such a
thing."
"But I won't ask them," he replied. "I am a man for myself, and do not
see why they should be asked to approve my actions in this."
"Ay, that's a' richt; but what aboot your ain feelings in the matter?
Am I the lass you wad hae ta'en, Peter, if this hadna happened?" and
there was a world of hungry appeal in her voice as she finished. It was
as if she wanted to be assured that it was for herself alone that he
really wanted to marry her.
"Why should you not?" he enquired.
"That's no' the question," she said, noting the evasion. "You ken as
weel as I dae that it wad be an ill match for you.
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