And now she was approaching him. For the life of him he could neither advance nor retire. Still, such of his wits as had remained faithful informed him that it was “stupid-like” to do nothing at all. Whereupon he drew out his watch and appeared to be profoundly interested in the time. At the supreme moment of encounter his surprise was, it must be confessed, extremely badly managed, and he touched his cap with the utmost diffidence and without a word. “Hullo!” Jessie Mary remarked carelessly. “Fancy meetin’ you, as the man said to the sassige roll!” It had been a mutton-pie at their last meeting, Macgregor remembered, trying to laugh. Some comfort might have been his had he known that this flippancy, or its variant, was her form of greeting to all the young men then enjoying her acquaintance. Jessie Mary usually kept a joke going for about three months, and quite successfully, too. “Did ye no’ expec’ to meet me?” He stumbled over the words. Jessie Mary laughed lightly, mockingly. “I wasna aware yer best girl lived in this street.” “It――it’s no’ the first time ye’ve seen me here,” he managed to say. She laughed again. “Weel, that’s true. I wonder wha the girl is.” He would have told her if he could, poor boy. “But I must hurry,” she went on, “or the shops’ll be shut.” “Can I no’ gang wi’ ye?” he asked, with a great effort. “Oh, ye can come as far as Macrorie’s,” she answered graciously, mentioning a provision shop. Young love is ever grateful for microscopic mercies, and Macgregor’s spirit took courage as he fell into step with her. Jessie Mary was a handsomely built young woman; her shoulder was quite on a level with his. There were times when he would fain have been taller; times, also, when he would fain have been older, for Jessie Mary’s years exceeded his own by two. Nevertheless, he was now thinking of her age without reference to his own. He was, in fact, about to speak of it, when Jessie Mary said: “I’m to get to the United Ironmongers’ dance on Friday week, after a’. When fayther was at his tea the nicht, he said I could gang.” She might as well have poured a jug of ice water over him. “Aw, did he?” he murmured feebly. “Ye should come, Macgreegor,” she continued. “Only three-an’-six for a ticket admittin’ lady an’ gent.” “Och, I’m no’ heedin’ aboot dancin’,” said Macgregor, knowing full well that his going was out of the question. “It’ll be a splendid dance. They’ll keep it up till three,” she informed him. With his heart in his mouth he enquired who was taking her to the dance. “Oh, I ha’ena decided yet.” She gave her head a becoming little toss. “I’ve several offers. I’ll let them quarrel in the meantime.” Perhaps it was some consolation to know that she had not decided on any particular escort, and that the rivals were at war with one another. While there is strife there is hope. “Ay; ye’ll ha’e plenty offers,” he managed to say steadily, and felt rather pleased with himself.