⟨and⟩ looked him i’ the face, but, in the anxiety there painted, saw eneuch to prevent the looking a second time.—The shadow of desolation came oure her speerit.
“Jeanie, my dear bairn,” cried Walter, rising up ⟨behind⟩ her, and patting her tenderly on the back, “Oh! Jeanie, have mercy on us—speak the word afore it be (illegible text) late. Could ye bear to see the father that brought ye and the mither that bore ye—could ye bear to see your ⟨old⟩ mither and me begging our bread frae door to door, lying on the straw of a poor house? we thochtna—(illegible text)ouchtna to have come to that—and you have it in your ⟨power⟩ to put every thing right. Say but the word; every⟨thing⟩ depends on you,—our comfort, nay, even our very ⟨existance⟩. We'll lie down on our knees before ye on the ⟨floor⟩,—the parents that gaed ye being will throw them⟨sells⟩ at your feet. ye surely canna spurn them awa wi’ disdain! Ye cana shut your heart to our prayers! Ye canna think there is a hereafter—and see us starving here!”
This was past human tholing. “What maun I do—what maun I do?” said Jeanie, eagerly, “tell me what I maun do?”
“Ye maun just say, my dear lassie, that ye’ll marry Laird Gray. That’s a’ Jeanie we want ye to say; and that’s na muckle.”—And, as Walter spoke these words, his voice trembled with anxiety and earnestness. Where should Jeanie look for council? She lookit in her mither’s face—and her mither’s een seemed to say, “Oh? Jeanie do it, or my heart will break.” Jeanie's heart was all but broken!
