They boarded the next, having sacrificed twelve precious minutes of their leave. Of course, they would never have dreamed of travelling 'inside'--and yet . . . They ascended as gingerly as a pretty girl aware of ungainly ankles surmounts a stile. Arrived safely on the roof, they sat down and puffed each a long breath suggestive of grave peril overcome. They covered their knees as far as they could and as surreptitiously as possible. Presently, with the help of cigarettes, which they smoked industriously, they began to revive. Their lips were unsealed, though conversation could not be said to gush. They did their best to look like veterans. An old woman smiled rather sadly, but very kindly, in their direction, and Macgregor reddened, while Willie spat in defiance of the displayed regulation. As the journey proceeded, their talk dwindled. It was after a long pause that Willie said: 'Ye'll be for hame as sune as we get to Glesca--eh?' 'Ay. . . . An' you'll be for yer aunt's--eh?' 'Ay,' Willie sighed, and lowering his voice, said: 'What'll ye dae if they laugh at ye?' 'They'll no laugh,' Macgregor replied, some indignation in his assurance. 'H'm! . . . Maybe _she'll_ laugh at ye.' 'Nae fears!' But the confident tone was overdone. Macgregor, after all, was not quite sure about Christina. She laughed at so many things. He was to meet her at seven, and of late he had lost sleep wondering how she would receive his first appearance in the kilt. He dreaded her chaff more than any horrors of war that lay before him. 'Aw, she'll laugh, sure enough,' croaked Willie. 'I wud ha'e naething to dae wi' the weemen if I was you. Ye canna trust them,' added this misogynist of twenty summers. Macgregor took hold of himself. 'What'll ye dae if yer aunt laughs?' he quietly demanded. 'Her? Gor! I never heard her laugh yet--excep' in her sleep efter eatin' a crab. But by Jings, if she laughs at me, I--I'll gang oot an' ha'e a beer!' 'But ye've ta'en the pledge.' 'To ----! I forgot aboot that. Weel, I--I'll wait an' see what she's got in for the tea first. . . . But she _canna_ laugh. I'll bet ye a packet o' fags she greets.' 'I'll tak' ye on!' It may be said at once that the wager was never decided, for the simple reason that when the time came Willie refused all information--including the fact that his aunt had kissed him. Which is not, alas, to say that his future references to her were to be more respectful than formerly. * * * * *