'Mr. Ericson's here, Miss St. John,' he said, the moment he was shown into her presence.
Her face flushed. Robert had never seen her look so beautiful.
'He's verra ill,' he added.
Her face grew pale—very pale.
'He asked if I thought you would go and see him—that is if he were going to die.'
A sunset flush, but faint as on the clouds of the east, rose over her pallor.
'I will go at once,' she said, rising.
'Na, na,' returned Robert, hastily. 'It has to be manage. It's no to be dune a' in a hurry. For ae thing, there's Dr. Gow says he maunna speak ae word; and for anither, there's Miss Letty 'ill jist be like a watch-dog to haud a'body oot ower frae 'im. We maun bide oor time. But gin ye say ye'll gang, that 'll content him i' the meantime. I'll tell him.'
'I will go any moment,' she said. 'Is he very ill?'
'I'm afraid he is. I doobt I'll hae to gang to Aberdeen withoot him.'