He wrote a long, pleading letter to Christina and posted it--in the
cook's fire. Next day he tried again, avoiding personal matters.
The result was a long rambling dissertation on musketry and the
effect of the wind, etcetera, on one's shots, all of which, with
his best love, he forwarded to Aberdeen. In previous letters he
had scarcely ever referred to his training, and then with the
utmost brevity.
The letter, quite apart from its technicalities, puzzled Christina;
and to puzzle Christina was to annoy her. To her mind it seemed to
have been written for the sake of covering so much paper. Of
course she wanted Macgregor to be interested in his work, but not
to the exclusion of herself. She allowed the thing to rankle for
three days. Then, as there was no further word from him, she
became a little alarmed. But it was not in her to write all she
felt, and so she sought to break the tension with something in the
way of a joke.
Thus it came about that on the fifth morning, Macgregor received a
postcard depicting a light-house on a rocky coast and bearing a few
written words, also an oddly shaped parcel. The written words
were:--
'Delighted to hear you are doing so well at the shooting. Sending
prize by same post.
This was better!--more like Christina herself. All was not lost!
Eagerly he tore off the numerous wrappings and disclosed
a--cocoa-nut! In his present state of mind he would have preferred
an infernal machine.
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