'Gang to blazes!' was the response.
Willie could scarce believe his ears. 'Macgreegor! did she no cough up onything?'
Macgregor walked on.
'An' she fancies hersel' for a —— swell!' exclaimed Willie viciously.
'Anither word an' I'll knock the face aff ye!'
It was Willie's turn to feel resentment.
In the evening came a note from Christina, hurriedly written. She was terribly busy getting ready for the morning train. It was most kind of Mrs. Purdie. Her own uncle must have let drop to Mr. Purdie that a summer outing this year was not possible, and Mr. Purdie must have told Mrs. Purdie. . . . Of course, she, Christina, would never have dreamed of going away otherwise. But the time would soon pass, Mac, and she intended to enjoy it thoroughly. . . .
If only she had left out that last sentence! But what true lover has not been stabbed by something very like it in his time?