Humorous stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Scotland -- Fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
'Ye're gettin' terrible forward,' she said, half angry, half amused.
'High time!'
She regarded him with amazement.
Suddenly he said: 'Ye're as much mines as I'm yours. Deny it, if
ye can.'
For perhaps the first time in her life Christina temporized. 'Can
ye sweer ye didna arrange wi' Wullie to leave early?'
'Eh?'
The note of innocence satisfied her. 'Weel,' she said graciously,
'I forgive ye.'
'What for?'
'Takin' liberties.'
Her lips wavered to a smile and he could not refrain from kissing
them once more.
'Here, hauf time!' she cried, and burst out laughing.
'This is the best yet,' he said jubilantly. 'Three goals in twa
meenutes! In future I'll kiss ye as often as I like.'
'We'll see aboot that. . . . The sojerin' has changed ye a lot,'
she added thoughtfully.
'D'ye no like the improvement?'
'I'll tell ye when I observe it. Noo sit still an' behave yersel',
an' tell me the latest camp rumours.'
Just then the bell over the door in the shop went off.
'Oh, dash yer customers!' said Macgregor.
Christina was moving from the room when----
'Are ye there, dearie?' called a familiar female voice.
'Holy Moses!' she whispered. 'It's Miss Tod, hame three days afore
her time.'
'Oh, criffens!' gasped Macgregor. 'What'll I dae?'
'Ye can either hide in the coal bunker, or bide whaur ye are--like
a sojer. She'll no devour ye.'
Christina then ran out to receive her employer, which she did
without embarrassment.
'What a peety ye're ower late for ma wee tea-pairty. An' hoo are
ye?' Macgregor heard her saying.
'Aw, I was sweirt to disturb ye wi' yer' frien's, lassie,' replied
Miss Tod, who had been advised by postcard of Christina's doings,
'but I _couldna_ bide in thon place anither nicht.'
'Dear, dear!' the girl said sympathizingly. 'Did ye no get on wi'
yer auld frien', or did the poultry attack ye? Come ben, come ben.
There's jist Macgreegor left, an' he hasna consumed absolutely
everything. I'll get ye a cup o' fresh tea in a jiffy.'
Smiling faintly but kindly, Miss Tod greeted Macgregor, apologized
for disturbing him, and subsided into her old chair.
'Oh, I'm thenkfu' to be hame,' she sighed, while Christina flew to
her hospitable duties. 'Ye've got the room awfu' nice, dearie.'
'Does the smell o' the ceegarettes annoy ye?' inquired Macgregor,
now more at ease, though still ashamed of his recent panic.
'Na, na; it's jist deleecious,' she protested, 'efter the smell o'
the country.'
'Did ye no like the country, Miss Tod?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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