in.

'Ha'e yer tea wi' us,' said the hospitable Macgregor.

She glanced at him under lowered lashes, her colour rising. 'My!
ye're awfu' kind,' she said softly. 'I wish to goodness I could.'

'Scoot hame an' tell yer mither, an' we'll wait for ye here,' said
stage-manager William.

'I wudna trust _you_ . . . but I think I could trust _him_.'

'Oh, we'll wait sure enough,' Macgregor said indifferently.

'I'll risk it!' she cried, and straightway departed.

Willie grinned at his friend. 'What dae ye think o' fat Maggie?'
he said.

'Naething,' answered Mac, and refused to be drawn into further
conversation.

Within half an hour she was back, flushed and bright of eye. She
had on a pink print, crisp and fresh, a flowery hat, gloves
carefully mended, neat shoes and transparent stockings.

'By Jings, ye're dressed to kill at a thoosan' yairds!' Willie
observed.

Ignoring him, she looked anxiously for the other's approval.

'D'ye like hot pies?' he inquired, rising and stretching himself.

An hour later, in the picture house a heartrending, soul thrilling
melodrama was at its last gasp. The long suffering heroine was in
the arms of the long misjudged, misfortune-ridden, but ever
faithful hero.

'Oh, lovely!' murmured Maggie.

Macgregor said nothing, but his eyes were moist. He may, or may
not, have been conscious of a plump, warm, thinly-clad shoulder
close against his arm.

Hero and heroine vanished. The lights went up. Macgregor blew his
nose, then looked past the fat girl to make a scoffing remark to
Willie.

But Willie's seat was vacant.

* * * * *

Maggie laid her ungloved hand on the adjoining seat. 'It's warm,'
she informed Macgregor. 'He canna be lang awa'.'

'Did he no say he was comin' back?' Macgregor asked rather
irritably.

'He never said a word to me. I didna notice him gang: I was that
ta'en up wi' the picturs. But never heed,' she went on cheerfully;
'it's a guid riddance o' bad rubbish. I wonder what's next on the
prog----

'But this'll no dae! He--he's your frien'.'

'Him! Excuse me for seemin' to smile. I can tell ye I was
surprised to see a dacent-like chap like you sae chummy wi' sic a
bad character as him.'

'Aw, Wullie Thomson's no near as bad as his character. A' the
same, he had nae business to slope wi'oot lettin' us ken. But
he'll likely be comin' back. We'll wait for five meenutes an' see.'

Maggie drew herself up.