Macgregor remained in a
semi-stunned condition of mind until the opportunity came for
making a little private bonfire of the two letters; after which
melancholy operation he straightway recovered his usual good
spirits.
'Never heed, Wullie,' he said, later; 'we'll get oor chance yet.'
Willie exploded. 'What for did ye get me to mak' sic a ---- cod o'
masel'?'
'Cod o' yersel'? Me?'
'Ay, you!--gettin' me to send a caird to ma ---- aunt! What for
did ye dae it?'
Macgregor stared. 'But ye didna post it,' he began.
'Ay, but I did. I gi'ed it to a man at the station.'
'Oh! . . . Weel, ye'll just ha'e to send her anither.'
'That'll no mak' me less o' a cod.'
'What way? What did ye write on the caird?'
Willie hesitated, muttered a few curses, and said slowly yet
savagely:--
'"Off to Flanders, wi'--wi' kind love"--_oh, dammit_!'
XI
AN INVITATION
After considering the matter at intervals for about thirty years,
Miss Tod, Christina's employer, decided to take a short change of
air by accepting the long-standing invitation of an old and aged
friend who dwelt in the country. The hour of departure arriving,
she shed tears, expressed the fear that she was going to her death,
embraced the girl, handed her the keys of the premises, and
requested her to make any use she pleased of the rather stuffy
living-room behind the shop.
Christina had no notion of accepting the offer until, an hour or
two later, the idea struck her that it would be fun to give a
little tea party for Macgregor and Willie Thomson.
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