Mysie had ideas, and was not afraid to express them. She used nice, pretty language, and when a thought struck her she would say it out in a way sometimes formal, but always genuine and sweet.
“John Anderson?” said Arthur—not that he did not know.
And Mysie repeated the sweetest of all sweet love-songs, the one fulfilment in the midst of so much longing desire.
As Arthur heard her gentle, fearless voice, and saw her clear eyes raised to his own, as she repeated, without fear or falter:
“And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo,”
a great awe came over him.
“Oh, Mysie, my love, my darling, may God grant it! For nothing in life could ever come between us.”
And with this hope, that in its intensity was almost fear, he drew her towards him, and gave her his first lover’s kiss. She was silent; and then, recovering herself, said, in a different tone:
“And I don’t think it will be inconvenient to have a little money!”
The revulsion of ideas made Arthur laugh.