red his throat. 'I'll awa' up to the
works an' say guid-bye to father. Jimsie can come, if he likes.
Ye needna tell him the noo--what I tell't ye.'

Jimsie, summoned from play, was proud to go with his big brother.
He was ill next day owing to a surfeit of good things consumed at
high pressure, but not too ill to discuss what he would purchase
with the half-crown that seemed to have stuck to his hot little paw.

Back from the works, Macgregor found tea awaiting him. His mother
and sister were not a little relieved by his cheerfulness, though
they were to doubt its sincerity later. But the boy had never made
a greater effort for the sake of those who loved him than in that
little piece of dissembling.

The parting was brief. An embrace, a kiss, a word or two that
meant little yet all--and he was out of the home.

His laugh, slightly subdued, came up the well of the
staircase--'Maybe it's anither false alarm!'

'They looked over the rail, mute but trying to smile, and saw the
last of him--a hurrying sturdy, boyish figure, kilt swinging and
hand aloft in final farewell.

His route took him through the street of Miss Tod's shop. It was
characteristic of Macgregor that he did not choose another and less
direct course. He neither hesitated nor looked aside as he marched
past the shop. The sense of injustice still upheld him. 'She
never gi'ed me a chance!' . . . And so back to Duty.

* * * * *

Not more than five minutes later Private William Thomson came along
in hot haste and banged into the shop.

'Macgreegor no here?' he demanded, and looked astounded.

'No,' answered Christina, without laying down the book she had been
trying to read.

'Jist left ye?'

'No.'

'When did ye see him?'

'This morning.'

'Gor! I could ha'e bet onything I wud ha'e catched him here. He
had jist left the hoose when I----'

'Why are you so excited?' she coldly inquired.

'Me? I'm no excited. Jist been canoodlin' wi' ma aunt. She
sprung five bob! Come oot an' I'll stan' ye a slider.'

'I regret I cannot accept your kind invitation.'

'Haw, haw! It's you for the language! But I say!' He leaned over
the counter. 'What way are ye no greetin'?'

She flushed hotly, wondering how much he knew or guessed, but
replied coolly enough: 'I have nothing to weep about. Have you?'

'Plenty, by Jings! I expected to see yer eyes an' nose rid,
onyway, Christina.'

'Indeed! Is that how it