It's a' because we think it is. Everything's richt--but we mak'
them wrang in the way we look at them. It wad hae--been a' richt--in oor
mind, if I had been married afore--afore it happened--but because we
werena married--it was wrang. It's a' a mistak' Rob, a' a--" and a burst
of coughing nearly choked her and a flood of blood began to gurgle in
her mouth.
Robert grew alarmed and lifting a cloth began to wipe the blood from her
mouth, looking on her so concerned and anxious that she tried to smile
to him to reassure him.
Presently she lay back with eyes closed and her hand limp in his. A wild
fear took possession of him as he looked upon the scarcely moving
breast, a fear which seemed to communicate itself to the sufferer, and
she opened her eyes again, but the voice was weak and very far away.
"Dinna be angry wi' onybody, Rob. It was you I liket, it was you I
wanted--but it was a' a mistake."
"I'm no' angry, Mysie," he said stifling his sobs, his tears falling
upon the white thin face. "Oh, Mysie, I'm only vexed. I'm only vexed
aboot the hale sad business. There now, dearie," he said bending low
over her and kissing and stroking the pallid brow and caressing the face
so dear to him.
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