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. "There noo, I'm no' angry. You're mine, Mysie. You've
always been mine, an' I'm no' angry. But oh, I love you, Mysie, an' it's
breaking my heart to part frae you. Oh, God!" he groaned in agony. "What
does it a' mean? I canna' bear it,--I canna' bear't," and a wild burst
of grief swept over him as he flung his head and arms upon the bed in a
vain attempt to control his sobbing sorrow.

A long pause--then the white hand was raised and crept slowly over his
shoulder, working its way among the thick shaggy hair of his head as the
fingers strayed from curl to curl, patting him and soothing him as a
child is soothed by a mother's hand. It rested upon his bent head and
the eyes opened again.

"Ay, Rob, I'm vexed for your sake--but it was a' a mistake." She went on
halting and very weak. "It was a' a mistak'--an' naebody is to blame. We
are just--driven alang, an'--we canna help oorsel's--it's awfu' to
hae--sic feelin's--an'--an' no' hae any poo'er--to guide them
richt--it's ay the things we want maist--that we dinna get. Kiss me,
Rob--kiss me, as you kissed me--yon--nicht on the muir. Haud me like
you--an' I think I can--gang content. Oh, Rob,--ay liket you--it was you
I wanted a' the time!"

He clasped her tenderly in his arms as he kissed her mouth, her eyes,
her brow, her hair, stroking her and fondling the dear face, catching
hungrily the smile that came to the pale lips, and lingered there like a
blink of sun upon a hillside after the rest of the landscape is clothed
in shadow.

Again there was a pause while he searched the pale face with the
lingering smile, noting the veined, almost discolored eyelids,
transparent and closed over the tired suffering eyes. Then a burst of
coughing again and the blood in thick clots gurgled up from the throat.
Then after a little she spoke again.

"Oh, Rob, you hae made me very happy. But I'm vexed aboot you--an'--an'
Peter. He tried to dae what was richt; but it wasna to be--I hope
you'll--no'--be angry wi' him. He was like me--he couldna' help it."

"Oh, Mysie, I'm no' a