"What did you have?" she demanded. "Roast beef an' rice pudding," said Tam glibly. "I don't believe you--anyway I guess it won't hurt you to watch me eat." Tam noticed that she took it for granted that he was lying, for she served him with a portion of her simple meal, and he accepted the situation without protest. "I'm an American, you know," she said as they sat cross-legged on the grass. "I come from Jackson, Connecticut--you've heard of Jackson?" "Oh, aye," he replied. "A'm frae Glascae." "That's Scotland--I like the Scotch." Tam blushed and choked. "I came over last year to drive an ambulance in the American Ambulance Section, but they wouldn't have me, so I just went into the English Red Cross." "British," corrected Tam. "I shall say English if I like," she defied him. "Weel," said Tam, "it's no' for me to check ye if ye won't be edicated." She stared at him, then burst into a ringing laugh. "My! the Scotch people are funny--tell me about Scotland. Is it a wonderful country? Do you know about Bruce and Wallace and Rob Roy and all those people?" "Oh, aye," said Tam cautiously, "by what A' read in the paper it's a gay fine country." "And the red deer and glens and things--it must be lovely." "A've seen graund pictures of a glen," admitted Tam, "but the red deer in Glascae air no' sae plentifu' as they used to be--A'm thinkin' the shipyard bummer hae scairt 'em away." She shot a sharp glance at him, then, it seemed for the first time, noticed his stripes. "Oh, you're a sergeant," she said. "I thought--I thought by your 'wings' you were an officer. I didn't know that sergeants--" Tam smiled at her confusion and when he smiled there was an infinite sweetness in the action. "Ye're right, Mistress. A'm a sairgeant, an' A' thocht a' the time ye were mistakin' me for an officer, an' A'd no' the heart to stop ye, for it's a verra lang time since A' spoke wi' a lady, an' it was verra, verra fine." He rose slowly and walked to his cycle--she ran after him and laid her hand on his arm. "I've been a low snob," she said frankly. "I beg your pardon--and you're not to go, because I wanted to ask you about a sergeant of your corps--you know the man that everybody is talking about. He bombed the Kaiser's staff the other day. You've heard about it, haven't you?" Tam kept his eyes on the distant horizon. "Oh, he's no sae much o' a fellow--a wee chap wi' an' awfu' conceit o' himsel'." "Nonsense!" she scoffed, "why, Captain Blackie told me--" Suddenly, she stepped back and gazed at him wide-eyed. "Why! You're Tam!" Tam went red. "Of course you're Tam--you never wear your medal ribbons, do you? You're called--" "Mistress," said Tam as he saluted awkwardly and started to push his machine, "they ca' me 'sairgeant,' an' it's no' such a bad rank." He left her standing with heightened color blaming herself bitterly for her _gaucherie_. So it made that difference, too!