heartbroken, an' didna mind what happened. This is
the first day I hae been oot. He cam' this mornin' frae his lodgings tae
ask me tae gang oot a wee while in the sunshine, seein' that it was sic
a guid day, and Mrs. Ramsay brocht me oot here, and warned me to sit
till she cam' back. When I saw you comin' I got up to run awa', but I
dinna ken whaur to run to; for this big toon is a' strange to me, an'
I'm feart."

"Oh, if I had only kent! You maun keep yoursel' as free frae worry as
possible, an' try an' get better," he went on, trying to speak as
lightly as possible. "Keep up your spirits, an' you'll maybe soon be a'
better."

"Aye, Rob," she said, "but it's no' easy. An' I hae been gettin' waur
instead o' better. I ken mysel' that I'm no' improvin', an' I often
think it wad hae been better if I had died. When folk don't want to
live--when they've nothing to be happy aboot they are better to dee!"

"But you maunna talk like that, Mysie," he said again. "You'll get
better yet, an' be as happy as ever you were. It is only because you are
ill noo an' you sae weak, that mak's you talk like that. An' forby you
maun mind that there are ither folk wha'll be vexed if you dinna get
better. Your faither and your mither wad like to see you weel an' happy,
an' oh, Mysie, Mysie, I want you to get weel!" he broke out
passionately--pleadingly, the misery in his voice going to her heart as
it cried to her, ached for her, and suffered for her. "Wad you hae
married me, Mysie, if I had asked you afore you went awa'?" and his
hands were again stroking tenderly the brown hair and patting the thin
cheeks as he spoke and plead.

"Ay, Rob," she answered simply, "I wad hae married you. I sometimes
think yet that I'll never marry onybody else. As a lassie I aye dreamed
in my ain mind that I'd be your wife. It's awfu' hoo the things that
folk want maist are aye the things they never get!"

"Mysie, wad you marry me yet?" he asked, impulsively. "Jist this minute?
An' I'll tak' you hame, an' naebody will ken onything. I'll take a' the
blame, an' you can say that it was me. I'll nurse you back to health
again wi' my mither's help an' naebody need ken the richt wye o' it!"

"No, Rob," she said after a short pause. "I couldna dae that. It wad
neither be fair to you or me, nor to onybody else."

"But, Mysie," he went on in the low tender voice that was so difficult
to withstand, "you don't like Peter weel enough to be his wife. You say
you nev