“I—I’ll never be onything—an’ I’m no’ carin’,” he groaned.
“If ye lie doon in the road ye’ll no’ win far, an’ ye’re likely to get tramped on, forbye. What’s wrang wi’ ye the day?” she asked kindly.
“Ye—ye jist mak’ me miserable,” he blurted out, and hung his head.
“Me!” she said innocently. “I’m sure I never meant to dae that. I’m a hard nut, I suppose; but no’ jist as hard as I seem. Onything I can dae to mak’ ye happy again?”
The door opened, the bell banged, and a man came in and bought a weekly paper.
“Weel?” said Christina when they were alone.
“Let me walk hame wi’ ye the nicht,” said Macgregor, who ought to have felt grateful to the chance customer whose brief stay had permitted him to get his wits and words together.
“Oh!” said Christina.
“I’ll wait for ye as long as ye like.”
Some seconds passed ere Christina spoke. “I’m not in the habit of being escorted——” she began.