'So I catched the first train I could.'
'Jist that, exactly so,' said Mr. Purdie with a heavy sigh that seemed irrelevant. 'Weel, ma lad,' he resumed hurriedly, 'if ye tak' a sate here, I'll awa' up the stair an' get yer aunt. She generally has a bit snooze aboot this time—efter her meal, ye ken—but——'
'Dinna fash her aboot me, Uncle Purdie.'
'Oh, but it—it's necessary to get her doon here. She'll maybe be able to break—I meant for to say——' Mr. Purdie stopped short and wiped perspiration from his face.
'Jist a meenute,' he said abruptly, and bolted upstairs.
Macgregor gazed after the retreating burly figure. Never before had he seen his uncle nervous. Was Aunt Purdie not so well? It was news to hear of her napping in the middle of the day. Then a likelier explanation dawned on Macgregor, and he smiled to himself. Uncle Purdie had been too shy to mention it, and now he had retired simply to allow of Christina's coming down by herself. So Macgregor prepared to meet his love.
And while he meditated, his aunt and uncle appeared together.
'Yer aunt'll explain,' said Mr. Purdie, looking most unhappy. 'I couldna dae it.'
'How do you do, Macgregor?' said Aunt Purdie, shaking hands with stiff kindliness. 'I am delighted to perceive you in Aberdeen. But what a deplorable catastrophe!—what a dire calamity!—what an ironical mishap!——'
'She means——' began Mr. Purdie, noting his nephew's puzzled distress.