I'll gie my life to it." And now he
waited for an answer.
None came. Tears were in Bel's eyes as she looked up in his face. Twice
she opened her lips to speak, and twice her heart and the words failed
her. The tears became drops and rolled down the cheeks. Sandy was
dismayed.
"Ye're not afraid o' me, ye sweet thing, are ye?" he gasped out. "I'd
not vex ye for the world. If ye bid me to go, I'd go."
"No, I'm not afraid o' ye, Mr. Bruce," sobbed Bel. "I don't know what it
is makes me so silly. I'm not afraid o' ye, though. But I was for a few
minutes yesterday," she added archly, with a little glint of a roguish
smile, which broke through the tears like an April sun through rain, and
turned Sandy's head in the twinkling of an eye.
"Ay, ay," he said; "I minded it weel, an' I said to myself then, in that
first sight I had o' yer face, that I'd not harm a hair o' yer head. Oh,
my little lass, would ye gie me a kiss,--just one, to show ye're not
afraid, and to gie me leave to try to win ye out o' likin' into lovin'?"
he continued, drawing closer and bending toward her.
And then a wonderful thing happened.
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