He broke his journey at a sweet-shop, and rather surprised himself by spending sixpence, although he had been planning to do so for the past week. He had not yet given Christina anything; he wanted badly to give her something; and having bought it, he wondered whether she would take it. He could not hope that the gift would affect the answer to his tremendous request. Coming out of the sweet-shop he caught sight of the back of Willie Thomson, whom he had not seen for two weeks. Involuntarily he gave the boyish whistle, not so long ago the summons that would have called the one to the other with express speed. Now it had the reverse effect, for Willie started, half turned, and then walked quickly up a convenient side-street. The flight was obvious, and for a moment Macgregor was hurt and angry. Then with sudden sympathy he grinned, thinking, “He’ll be after Jessie Mary, an’ doesna want me.” He was becoming quite grateful to Willie, for although he had encountered Jessie Mary several times of late, she had not reminded him of the approaching dance, and he gave Willie credit for that. A few minutes later Macgregor stood at the counter that had become a veritable altar. Not many of us manage to greet the girls of our dreams precisely as we would or exactly as we have rehearsed the operation, and Macgregor’s nerves at the last moment played him a trick. In a cocky fashion, neither natural nor becoming, he wagged his head in the direction of the living-room and flippantly enquired: “Is she oot?” To which Christina, her smile of welcome passing with never a flicker, stiffly replied: “Miss Tod is out, but may return at any moment.” “Aw!” he murmured, “I thought she wud maybe be takin’ her usual walk.” “What usual walk?” His hurt look said: “What have I done to deserve this, Christina?” And she felt as though she had struck him. “Ye shouldna tak’ things for granted,” she said, less sharply. “I didna think ye was yin o’ the cheeky sort.” “Me!” he cried in consternation. “Weel, maybe ye didna mean it, but ye cam’ into the shop like a dog wi’ twa tails. But”――as with a sudden inspiration――“maybe ye’ve been gettin’ a rise in yer wages. If that’s the case, I’ll apologise.” He shook his head. “I dinna ken what ye’re drivin’ at. I――I was jist gled to see ye――――” “Oh, we’ll no’ say ony mair aboot it. Maybe I was ower smart,” she said hastily. “Kindly forget ma observations.” She smiled apologetically. “Are ye no’ gaun to shake han’s wi’ me?” he asked, still uneasy. “Surely!” she answered warmly. “An’ I’ve got a bit o’ news for ye, Mac.” The name slipped out; she reddened. Yet her cheek was pale compared with the boy’s. “Oh!” he exclaimed under his breath. Then with a brave attempt at carelessness he brought from his pocket a small white package and laid it on the counter before her. “It――it’s for you,” he said, forgetting his little speech about wanting to give her something and hoping she would not be offended.