She held out her hands passionately toward her unseen lover. “Ye willna’ ever regret makin’ me your wife, will ye dear?” she whispered imploringly. “Ye willna’ be sorry in years to come.” Quickly her loving, trustful faith reasserted itself. “Nay, nay, my heart tells me ye willna’, so I’ll be foolish nae more. I’ll tell him what a silly lass I’ve been an’ how he’ll laugh at my doubting fears.” She took a step toward his door, when it opened and Robert came quickly into the room, dressed for the ball, looking very handsome in his plain and unpretending dress of blue homespun, for he still retained the same simplicity of manner and appearance that he brought with him from the country. He stopped in amazement as he came face to face with his unexpected visitor.
Mary with a thrill of joy at the sight of her lover waited eagerly for the words of praise which she knew her appearance would elicit, and for which she hungered, but as he stood looking at her so calmly, so coldly, her joy turned to wonder and fear. What was the matter? Didn’t she please him? With a little gasp she put her hand nervously to her face. As it came in contact with the mask, which she had forgotten to remove, her heart gave a quick bound of relief. Of course! He didn’t know her. “He doesna’ ken who I am at all,” she thought gleefully.
As his eyes rested upon the pink mask, Robert gave a sudden start, then glanced quickly at the table. No, it wasn’t there. So then this was Lady Nancy herself. He recognized her hair, her figure, and above all the mask. “So my haughty lady thinks it safer to play wi’ fire incognito, eh?” he thought grimly. “Weel, I’ll teach ye a lesson, my fine lady; ye need one badly.” Then aloud, “I’m indeed honored, madam, by your presence here to-night,” he said, bowing low before her.
Mary courtesied deeply. Oh, it was so exciting to be talking with her Robbie, and how surprised he would be when she unmasked.
“Haven’t ye a word to say to me, fair lady?” continued Robert softly, as she stood silently before him.
“He’ll sure ken my voice,” she thought in trepidation; “if I could only talk like a lady.” She wondered if she could imitate the haughty tones of Lady Nancy Gordon herself. She’d try. She seated herself languidly. “Then you don’t recognize me?” she asked, disguising her lyric voice, as near as possible, in the lazy drawl of Lady Glencairn’s voice.
He started and looked at her intently. It didn’t sound like Lady Nancy at all, but who else could she be? he thought blankly. “Your voice sounds like—but nae, I maun be mistaken,” he said doubtfully. “Nay, madam, I do not recognize you. Will you not remove——”
“What, my face?” laughed Mary. She had marvelously lost all trace of her country intonation. “Oh, nay, sir! I’m too much attached to it.”
“Well ye might be, fair lady!” replied Robert, “but why do ye hide your beauty so jealously?” He reached out his hand to lift the mask from her face, but, with a rippling laugh, she eluded him, and from behind the high-backed settle made reply.