"Florimel, you will curse the day you marry that man," cried Clementina, and closed the door.
She hurried Lizzy to the library, put the baby in her arms, and clasped them both in her own.
A gush of tears lightened the oppressed heart of the mother. "Lat me oot o' the hoose, for God's sake!" she cried; and Clementina, almost as anxious to leave it as she, helped her down to the hall. When she saw the open door she rushed out of it as if escaping from the pit.
Now, Malcolm, as he came from the factor's, had seen her go in with her baby in her arms, and suspected the hand of Clementina. Wondering and anxious, but not very hopeful as to what might come of it, he waited close by; and when now he saw Lizzy dart from the house in wild perturbation, he ran from the cover of the surrounding trees into the open drive to meet her.
"Ma'colm!" groaned the poor girl, holding out her baby, "he winna own till 't! He winna alloo 'at he kens aucht aboot me or the bairn aither!"
Malcolm had taken the child from her, and was clasping him to his bosom. "He's the warst rascal, Lizzy," he said, "'at ever God made an' the deevil blaudit."
"Na, na," cried Lizzy; "the likes o' him whiles kills the wuman, but he wadna du that. Na, na, he's nae the warst: there's a heap waur nor him."
"Did ye see my mistress?" asked Malcolm.
"Ow ay, but she luikit sae angry at me, I cudna speyk. Him an' her's ower thrang for her to believe onything again' 'im. An' whatever the bairn 's to du wantin' a father!"
"Lizzy," said Malcolm, clasping the child again to his bosom, "I s' be a father to yer bairn—that is, as weel's ane 'at's no yer man can be." And he kissed the child tenderly.