on the table; but she
guessed from his face that he must have already heard of it on his way
home.

He was silent as he pulled off his rough blue flannel shirt and stooping
over the well-filled tub of hot water, he began to lave the water over
his arms, and the upper part of his body.

At last, Mrs. Sinclair could hold herself in no longer, and looking
keenly at the half-naked young man as he straightened himself, having
washed the coal-dust from his hands and arms, he began to rub his breast
and as much of his back as he could reach, she said, "Did you hear aboot
Mysie, Rob?"

"Ay," he returned simply, trying to hide his agitation and his blanching
face. "I heard that she had disappeared frae her place, an' that nae
news o' her could be got. Is it true, mither?"

"Ay, it's true, Rob," she replied. "But I hinna got ony richt waye o' it
yet. Jenny's awa' owre to Rundell Hoose, an' we'll no' ken onything till
she comes back. It's an awfu' business, an' will pit her faither an'
mither a guid lot aboot. I wonder what'll hae ta'en her."

"It's hard to ken," he replied in a non-committal voice. "Hae you ony
idea, mither, as to what has brought this aboot?"

"No, Rob, I canna' say; but folks' tongues will soon be busy, I hae nae
doot, an' there will be a lot o' clip-clash, an' everybody kennin'
nothing, will ken the right way o't, an' every yin will hae a different
story to tell."

"Ay, I hae nae doot," he said, again stooping over the tub flinging some
water over his head, and beginning to rub the soap into a fine lather
upon his hair. "Everybody will ken the right wye o' it, and will claver
and gossip, when they wad 'a be better to mind their ain affairs, an'
let ither folk alane."

His mother did not speak for a little, but went on with her work. There
was something on her mind about which she wanted to speak, and she
bustled about and washed, and clattered the dishes; and every plate and
spoon, as they were laid dripping from the basin of warm water, plainly
indicated that something troubled her.

Finally, when the last steaming dish had been laid upon the table, and
she had begun to wipe them dry, she cleared her throat, and in a
somewhat strained sort of voice asked, "Dae you ken, Rob, onything aboot
Mysie?"

"No, mither," he replied at once, as he ceased rubbing the white foaming
lather on his hair, and again straightened himself up to look at her, as
she spoke; his head looking as if a three inch fall of s