“Oh dear, Professor, I am very very sorry, and I see Maclean has gone. It was cruel of me to keep you.”
“All right, my lad; don’t mention it. Are you ready now?”
“I shall just write a clean copy of this last, then I’m done.”
In fifteen minutes more he had handed in his papers. The Professor shook him by the hand, and he went away happy and hopeful.
But he did not remain long so, for while at tea, about an hour after, on looking over his papers he discovered a mistake he had made, which threw him into the lowest depths of despair.
He had scarcely finished, when there was a modest knock at the door, and his friend Maclean himself entered, smiling too.
“He is the winner,” said Sandie to himself, when he saw that smile.
“May I come in?”
“Don’t ask such a question; you know you are as welcome as the primrose in spring!”
Maclean seated himself on the edge of a chair.