Page:Salem - a tale of the seventeenth century (IA taleseventeenth00derbrich).pdf/263

 "Ance or twice, whiles she talked to us sae glad an' gay, an' lookin' sae bonnie, I thought I saw a strange, sudden luke o' pain pass ower her sweet face; an' at last I took notice o' it, an' I questioned her aboot it. At first she put me by, an' telled me it wa' nathin'; but at last she had to own up, an' she telled us that in gettin' out o' ane o' the coaches on her route hame, she had slipped an' fallen, an' haed somehoo strained hersel' a little; but she tried to laugh it aff, an' said it wa' nathin'; but Tibbie an' I felt there wa' reason to be anxious in her circumstances.

"That night, alas! she haed to ca' us up—oh, that wa' a dreadfu' night! an' before the mornin' broke on us, you, a puir, weakly baby, wa' prematurely born, an' Alice—my treasure, my darlin', my on'y child—wa' gaen fra' me foriver.

"Then, Alice, I think my brain gave way, an' I wa' mad—mad! There wa' but ane bit o' comfort left me—I wa' glad I haed never told her o' the sin o' the mon she luved sae weel; an' she died in her innocent belief that she wa' his luved an' lawfu' wife—*