Of this action one may say, at first thought, that it was simply the outcome of an outraged pride. Yet Macgregor’s pride was at best a drowsy thing until a girl stabbed it. It forced him to Jessie Mary’s door, but there failed him. Throughout the miserable Sunday it lay inert, with only an occasional spasm. And though he went with it to the encounter on Monday, he carried it as a burden. His real supporters were Love and Determination, and the latter was a new comrade, welcome, but not altogether of his own inspiring. * * * * * He did not go to the shop, for he had neither money nor the petty courage necessary to ask it of his parents. On the pavement, a little way from the door, he waited in a slow drizzle of rain. He had no doubts as to what he was going to do and say. The idea had been with him all day, from early in the morning, and it _had_ to be carried out. Perhaps his nerves were a little too steady to be described as normal. When eight o’clock struck on a neighbouring tower, he did not start or stir. But across the street, peering round the edge of a close-mouth, another boy jerked his head at the sound. Willie Thomson was exceedingly curious to know whether Saturday night had seen the end of the matter. Christina, for no reason that she could have given, was late in leaving the shop; it was twenty minutes past the hour when she appeared. She approached quickly, but he was ready for her. “No!” she exclaimed at the sight of him. He stepped right in front of her. She was compelled to halt, and she had nothing to say. He faced her fairly, and said――neither hotly nor coldly, but with a slight throb in his voice: “I’ll be guid enough yet.” With a little nod as if to emphasise his words, and without taking his eyes from her face, he stood aside and let her go. Erect, he followed her with his eyes until the darkness and traffic of the pavement hid her. Then he seemed to relax, his shoulders drooped slightly, and with eyes grown wistful he moved slowly down the street towards home. Arrived there he shut himself up with an old school dictionary. Dull work, but a beginning.... “Guid enough yet.” Christina had not gone far when through all her resentment the full meaning of the words forced itself upon her. “Oh,” she told herself crossly, “I never meant him to take it that way.” A little later she told herself the same thing, but merely impatiently. And still later, lying in the dark, she repeated it with a sob.