"Why, Mysie," he asked in surprise. "Why is it no use? Wouldn't you like to marry me?" "No," she replied firmly. "I would not! Do you think I have no thought o' mysel'? If nothing had happened, you would never hae thought aboot me for your wife. But now that you've done something you canna get oot o' you'd like to mak' me believe you want to help me bear the disgrace, while a' the time you don't want to. But it's no' my disgrace," and there was heat creeping into her voice. "It is yours, an' you should hae thocht aboot a' that afore," and her voice was very angry as she finished. "You are wrong, Mysie," he replied mollifyingly. "I love, you and I told you that before it happened, and I also hinted that I wanted to marry you." "Ay, but that was just at the time. Maybe if nothing had happened, an' I had never been in your company again, you'd soon hae forgotten." "No, Mysie, you are wrong. I love you, and I've brought you to this, for which I am sorry, so we must be married," he said decisively. "Why?" she asked, and her eyes met his honestly and fairly. "Because it is the right thing to do," he replied quietly. "Is that a'?" she asked. "Is it not enough? What else is there to do?" Mysie was silent, and after a while Peter went on;--"It is a duty, dear, but I am going to face it, and shoulder the responsibility. It is the right thing to do, and it must be done." "Ay, an' you are gaun to dae it, just as a bairn tak's medicine; because you are forced. I asked if that was a', and it seems to be. But what if I don't have onything mair to dae with you?" "You would not do that, Mysie," he said hurriedly, and incredulously. It had never entered his mind that she would refuse to marry him, and he looked upon his offer as a great service which he was doing her. "Why, what could you do otherwise?" he asked looking blankly at her. "I could work as I hae always done," she said sharply. "You surely think you are a catch. Man, efter what has happened I feel that I wudna care than I never saw you again. You hae little o' rale manliness in you. You thocht it was gran' to carry on wi' a workin' lassie, maybe," and there was bitter scorn in her voice, "an' now when you hae landed yourself into a mess you are grinning like a bear with the branks an' wantin' to dae what is richt as you call it," and Mysie was now really in a temper. "Mysie, you must not speak like that," he broke in, in earnest tones. "You know I love you, and loving you as I do, I want to shield you as much--" "Ay, but you want to shield yourself first," she said. "No, dear, it is only of you I am thinking. I love you very much and want to do what is right. Even although this had not happened, I was going to ask you to be my wife. Will you marry me, Mysie?"