--cut
off in middle life, made old by bad ventilation in the mines, and black
damp. His condition was almost despaired of by the doctor, and when
Robert left Lowwood that evening for Edinburgh, he was in a very
critical state. Two months before, the oldest boy, who was some two
years younger than Mysie, had been taken suddenly ill, and had died
after a few days' illness.

How was he to tell Mysie of this? How tell her that John was dead, and
her father perhaps dying? How tell of her mother eating out her heart in
the hungry longing for news of the missing girl, and killing herself
with work and worry?

"Your faither's no' very weel, Mysie," he began evasively, his eyes
turned away from her, in an attempt at hiding what he felt.

"What's wrang wi' him, Rob?" she asked, the quick alarm in her voice
cutting his heart as she spoke.

"He hasna been workin' for fully a fortnicht," he replied.

"But what's wrang?" she persisted. "Is he ill?"

"Mysie, I'd raither onything than be the means o' painin' you, for you
are no' in a fit state to be worried."

"You maun tell me, Rob," she cried fiercely, her face showing
excitement. "What is it that is wrang? Is he awfu' ill?"

"He's lyin' gey bad, Mysie, an' when I cam' awa' this mornin', I didna
like the look o' him at a'. He was kind o' wanderin' in his mind, an'
speakin' to you an' John, jist as he used to speak when we were a'
bairns thegither. He was liltin' some o' thae auld sangs he used to sing
to us. But dinna greet, Mysie, you'll mak' yoursel' waur. You are no
very strong, you ken, an' if you worry it'll mak' you waur. You should
raither try an' bear up, an' get strong, an' maybe gang an' see him.
He'd be awfu' prood to see you, an' so wad your mither."

"No, no," she cried. "I canna gang. It wad kill them to see me noo, an'
I couldna bear't, if they should be angry wi' me. I couldna face their
anger, Rob."

"Weel, Mysie," he said, drawing a long breath, as if to face a stiff
proposition, "there is no other way out of it, but that you'll hae to
marry me now--just this minute, an' gang back wi' me. If you do that, I
can tak' you back wi' me, an' gang to your faither an' say that it was
me that was responsible. It can be done, Mysie, if only you'll agree to
it. Come, Mysie!" he cried in a burst of passionate pleading. "I want
you. Mysie, Mysie! Say that you'll come."

Robert looked at her pale, thin, emaciated face with greedy pleading in
his eyes. He saw the thi