XX
THE REAL THING AT LAST
For an appreciable number of seconds after the door had closedChristina continued to gaze in its direction, her head well up, herface stern and rather pale. Then, quite suddenly, her bosom gave aquick heave, her lips parted, trembling, her eyes blinked, herwhole attitude became lax. But she was not going to cry; certainlynot! She was far too angry for tears; angry with herself no lessthan Macgregor. He had actually departed without being dismissed;worse still, he had had the last word! An observer--the thoughtstruck her--would have assumed that she, weak wretch, had humblyallowed him to go and leave her in the wrong! Her maiden pride hadsomehow failed her, for she ought to have sent him forth crushed.And yet, surely, she had hurt, punished, humiliated him. Oh, nodoubt of that! And for a moment her illogical heart wavered. Shedrew out her hanky, muttering 'how I hate him!'--and blew herpretty nose. Then she clenched her hands and set her teeth. Thenshe went lax again. Then--oh, dear! he had even insulted her byleaving her to pick up the cast-off ring!--for, of course, shecould not leave it there for Miss Tod or a customer to see.
Haughtily she moved round the counter and with scornful finger-tipstook up the tiny wreckage of a great hope. The gold was twistedand bruised, the little pearls were loose in their places. All atonce she felt a horrid pain in her throat. . . .
Miss Tod appeared, fresh from the joys of strong tea.
'Oh, lassie, ha'e ye hurted yersel'?'
Christina choked, recovered herself and cried: 'I've sold ablighter a sixpenny notebook for threepence, an' I'll never getover it as long as I live. B--but I hope that'll no be long!'
Just then Heaven sent a customer.
* * * * *
And perhaps Heaven sent the telegram that Macgregor found on hisreturn home, rather late in the afternoon. The war has changedmany things and people, but mothers most of all. Mrs. Robinsonmade no mention of the 'extra special' dinner prepared so vainly inher son's honour. 'Yer fayther missed ye,' was her only referenceto his absence from the meal.
The telegram was an order to return to duty. The mother and sistersaw his eyes change, his shoulders stiffen.
'Maybe something's gaun to happen at last,' he said; and almost inthe same breath, though in a different voice--'Christina's finishedwi' me. It was ma ain fau't. Ye needna speak aboot it. I--I'm noheedin'--greatly.' He cleared his throat. 'I'll awa' up to theworks an' say guid-bye to father. Jimsie can come, if he likes.Ye needna tell him the noo--what I tell't ye.'
Jimsie, summoned from play, was proud to go with his big brother.He was ill next day owing to a surfeit of good things consumed athigh pressure, but not too ill to discuss what he would purchasewith the half-crown that seemed to have stuck to his hot little paw.
Back from the works, Macgregor found tea awaiting him. His motherand sister were not a little relieved by his cheerfulness, thoughthey were to doubt its sincerity later. But the boy had never madea greater effort for the sake of those who loved him than in thatlittle piece of dissembling.
The parting was brief. An embrace, a kiss, a word or two thatmeant little yet all--and he was out of the home.
His laugh, slightly subdued, came up the well of thestaircase--'Maybe it's anither false alarm!'
'They looked over the rail, mute but trying to smile, and saw thelast of him--a hurrying sturdy, boyish figure, kilt swinging andhand aloft in final farewell.
His route took him through the street of Miss Tod's shop. It wascharacteristic of Macgregor that he did not choose another and lessdirect course. He neither hesitated nor looked aside as he marchedpast the shop. The sense of injustice still upheld him. 'Shenever gi'ed me a chance!' . . . And so back to Duty.
* * * * *
Not more than five minutes later Private William Thomson came alongin hot haste and banged into the shop.
'Macgreegor no here?' he demanded, and looked astounded.
'No,' answered Christina, without laying down the book she had beentrying to read.
'Jist left ye?'
'No.'
'When did ye see him?'
'This morning.'
'Gor! I could ha'e bet onything I wud ha'e catched him here. Hehad jist left the hoose when I----'
'Why are you so excited?' she coldly inquired.
'Me? I'm no excited. Jist been canoodlin' wi' ma aunt. Shesprung five bob! Come oot an' I'll stan' ye a slider.'
'I regret I cannot accept your kind invitation.'
'Haw, haw! It's you for the language! But I say!' He leaned overthe counter. 'What way are ye no greetin'?'
She flushed hotly, wondering how much he knew or guessed, butreplied coolly enough: 'I have nothing to weep about. Have you?'
'Plenty, by Jings! I expected to see yer eyes an' nose rid,onyway, Christina.'
'Indeed! Is that how it affects you?'
He looked hard at her. 'My! ye're a game yin!' he said admiringly.'Weel, I maun slope,' he went on, with a sigh that sounded absurd,coming from him. 'I suppose ye've nae message forMacgreegor--something ye forgot to say at the last meenute? Eh?'
Christina was at a loss. Apparently he knew nothing, yet hismanner was odd.
'No message, thank you,' said she slowly.
'Then I'll bid ye guid-bye--an' I could bet ye a bob ye'll neversee me again. So I'll tell ye something.' His words came with arush. 'Ye're aboot the nicest girl I ever kent, Christina.Macgreegor's a luckier deevil nor he deserves. But I'll look efterhim for ye in Flanders. Trust me for that. Noo that we're reallyboun' for the Front, in a day or so, things is different--at leastI'm feelin' different. Dinna laugh! I--I dinna want to ha'e onyenemies but the Germans. I've jist been an' kissed maaunt--dammit! An' noo'--he caught her hand, pulled her tohim--'I'm gaun to kiss _you_! There!' He turned and bolted.
Christina's hand went to her cheek, and fell back to her side. Hercolour ebbed as swiftly as it had flowed. She began to shake.'Bound for the Front, in a day or so.' . . .
Later she went to the sitting-room where her employer was once moreabsorbing comfort from a cup. 'Miss Tod,' she said quietly, 'Iwant to gang hame.'
In the evening she posted a small package with this note enclosed--
'I am sending the ring Mrs. McOstrich said I was to give you whenthe time came for you to go. I hope it will bring you good luck.God bless you.
'CHRISTINA.'
She lay awake most of the night, wondering if she might not havewritten more, wondering what answer he would send,wondering--wondering. . . .
And as she fell asleep in the grey of morning, hours before thepackage would be delivered at the camp, a long train, at anoutlying station, started on its way south, and six hundred eagerlads shouted in the face of all things.
'We're awa' this time, by Goad!' yelled Willie in his friend's ear.
And Macgregor laughed wildly and wrung his friend's hand.