It was true Mysie and Robert had never walked out as young men and women of their class do; but she knew in their hearts each regarded the other with very warm affection, and thinking thus she worked about the house preparing things and running occasionally over to Maitland’s house, to see that the dinner was cooking all right, and giving little attentions wherever they were needed, in Mrs. Maitland’s absence.

She did not mention the news to Robert when he came in, but she watched him furtively as she worked about the house getting the water into the tub for him to wash, before placing the dinner on the table; but she guessed from his face that he must have already heard of it on his way home.

He was silent as he pulled off his rough blue flannel shirt and stooping over the well-filled tub of hot water, he began to lave the water over his arms, and the upper part of his body.

At last, Mrs. Sinclair could hold herself in no longer, and looking keenly at the half-naked young man as he straightened himself, having washed the coal-dust from his hands and arms, he began to rub his breast and as much of his back as he could reach, she said, “Did you hear aboot Mysie, Rob?”

“Ay,” he returned simply, trying to hide his agitation and his blanching face.  “I heard that she had disappeared frae her place, an’ that nae news o’ her could be got.  Is it true, mither?”

“Ay, it’s true, Rob,” she replied.  “But I hinna got ony richt waye o’ it yet.  Jenny’s awa’ owre to Rundell Hoose, an’ we’ll no’ ken onything till she comes back.  It’s an awfu’ business, an’ will pit her faither an’ mither a guid lot aboot.  I wonder what’ll hae ta’en her.”

“It’s hard to ken,” he replied in a non-committal voice.  “Hae you ony idea, mither, as to what has brought this aboot?”

“No, Rob, I canna’ say; but folks’ tongues will soon be busy, I hae nae doot, an’ there will be a lot o’ clip-clash, an’ everybody kennin’ nothing, will ken the right way o’t, an’ every yin will hae a different story to tell.”

“Ay, I hae nae doot,” he said, again stooping over the tub flinging some water over his head, and beginning to rub the soap into a fine lather upon his hair.  “Everybody will ken the right wye o’ it, and will claver and gossip, when they wad ‘a be better to mind their ain affairs, an’ let ither folk alane.”

His mother did not speak for a little, but went on with her work.  There was something on her mind about which she wanted to speak, and she bustled about and washed, and clattered the dishes; and every plate and spoon, as they were laid dripping from the basin of warm water, plainly indicated that something troubled her.

Finally, when the last steaming dish had been laid upon the table, and she had begun to wipe them dry, she cleared her throat, and in a somewhat strained sort of voice asked, “Dae you ken, Rob, onything aboot Mysie?”

“No, mither,” he replied at once, as he ceased rubbing the white foaming lather on his hair, and again straightened himself up to look at her, as she spoke; his head looking as if a three inch fall of snow had settled upon it, giving the black dirty face and the clean eyes shining through the dust, a weird strange appearance.  “What makes you ask that?”