.

'Doh, me, soh, doh, soh, me, doh,' hummed the vocalist.

Christina, who had been looking desperately serious, let out a
small squeak and hurriedly blew her nose. Macgregor regarded her
in astonishment, and she withdrew the little finger she had
permitted him to capture.

'It's a patriotic sang in honour,' Mrs. Pumpherston started to
explain----

'Ach, woman!' cried her spouse, 'ye've made me loss ma key.' He
re-struck the fork irritably, and proceeded to inform the
company--'It's no exac'ly a new sang, but----'

'Ye'll be lossin' yer key again, Geordie.'

With a sulky grunt, Mr. Pumpherston once more struck his fork, but
this time discreetly on the leg of his chair, and in his own good
time made a feeble attack on 'Rule, Britannia.'

'This is fair rotten,' Macgregor muttered at the third verse,
resentful that his love should be apparently enjoying it.

'Remember ye're a sojer,' she whispered back, 'an' thole.' But she
let him find her hand again.

The drear performance came to an end amid applause sufficient to
satisfy Mrs. Pumpherston.

'Excep' when ye cracked on "arose," ye managed fine,' she said to
her perspiring mate, and to the hostess, 'What think ye o' that for
a patriotic sang, Mistress McOstrich?'

'Oh, splendid--splendid!' replied Mrs. McOstrich with a nervous
start. For the last five minutes she had been lost in furtive
contemplation of her two youthful guests, her withered countenance
more melancholy even than usual.

Ten o'clock struck, and, to Macgregor's ill-disguised delight,
Christina rose and said she must be going.

Mrs. McOstrich accompanied the two to the outer door. There she
took Christina's hand, stroked it once or twice, and let it go.

'Macgreegor has been a frien' o' mines since he was a gey wee
laddie,' she said, 'an' I'm rael prood to ha'e had his intended in
ma hoose. I'll never forget neither o' ye. If I had had a laddie
o' ma ain, I couldna ha'e wished him to dae better nor Macgreegor
has done--in every way.' Abruptly she pressed something into
Christina's hand and closed the girl's fingers upon it. 'Dinna
look at it noo,' she went on hastily. 'It's yours, dearie, but
ye'll gi'e it to Macgreegor when the time comes for him to--to
gang. Ma grandfayther was a dandy in his way, an' it's a' he left
me, though I had great expectations.'

Gently she pushed the pair of them forth and closed the door.

At the foot of the stair, under a feeble gas-jet, Christina