by J. J. Bell
XII
A TEA-PARTY
Christina was serving a customer when her two guests entered theshop. Unembarrassed she beamed on both and signed to Macgregor togo 'right in.' So Macgregor conducted his friend, who during thejourney had betrayed increasing indications of 'funk,' into theabsent owner's living-room, which Christina had contrived to makebrighter looking than for many a year.
At the sight of the laden table Willie took fright and declared hisintention of doing an immediate 'slope.' 'Ye didna tell me,' hecomplained, 'there was to be a big compn'y.'
Macgregor grabbed him by the arm. 'Keep yer hair on, Wullie.There'll be naebody but the three o' us. There's nae scrimp abootChristina,' he added with pride.
'I believe ye!' responded the reassured guest. 'Gor, I never seenas much pastries in a' ma born days--no but what I'm ready to daema bit.'
Just then Christina entered, remarking:
'It's an awfu' job tryin' to sell what a person doesna want to aperson that wants what ye ha'ena got; but I done it this time.Evenin', Mac. Mr. Thomson, I am delighted to meet ye.'
'Aw,' murmured Willie helplessly.
'Dinna terrify him,' Macgregor whispered.
'Sorry,' she said with quick compunction. 'I'm gled to see ye,Wullie. Sit doon an' feel at hame. The kettle's jist at the bile.See, tak' Miss Tod's chair. She'll like to think that a sojer satin it. She'll never ha'e been as near to a man. I was askin' herthe ither nicht if she had ever had a lad. The answer was in thenegative.'
'Maybe,' Macgregor suggested, 'she didna like to tell ye the truth.'
Christina smiled gently, saying, 'Ye've a lot to learn aboot usfemales, Mac.'
'By Jings, ye're richt there!' Willie exploded, and immediatelysubsided in confusion.
'Ay,' she agreed placidly; 'he's no a connoisseur like you, Wullie.Talkin' o' females, hoo's yer aunt keepin'?'
'Rotten--at least she was fine the last time I seen her ugly.'
'The decay seems to ha'e been rapid. But, seriously, it's a peetyye canna love yer aunt better----'
Love her! Oh, help!' The 'p' was sounded just in time, and Willieglanced at Macgregor to see whether he had noticed the stumble.
Macgregor, however, had forgotten Willie--unless, perhaps to wishhim a hundred miles away. Christina was wearing a new white blousewhich showed a little bit of her neck, with a bow of her favouritescarlet at the opening.
'D'ye ken what ma aunt done to me the ither day?' Willie proceeded,craving for sympathy. 'I was terrible hard up, an' I wrote her anice letter on a caird wi' a view o' Glesca Cathedral on it,includin' the graveyaird--cost me a penny; an' what dae ye thinkshe sent me back? A bl--oomin' trac'!'
At that moment the kettle boiled, and Christina, exclaiming 'Oh,mercy!' sprang to the hearth. Over her shoulder she said in avoice that wavered slightly:
'That was hard cheese, Wullie, but ye maun send her a cheerier-likecaird next time. I'll stand ye an optimistic specimen afore yeleave the shop.'
'Thenk ye! A--of course we'll ha'e to draw the line at picturs o'folk dookin' in the sad sea waves or canoodlin' on the shore----'
Christina, teapot in one hand, kettle in the other, burst outlaughing.
'Mind ye dinna burn yersel'!' cried Macgregor, starting into life.
'Haud the kettle, Mac,' said she. 'It's no fair o' Wullie to besae funny.'
'I wasna funny!' Willie protested.
'It's yer notion o' the optimistic that tickled me,' she said.'Pour, Mac; I'm steady noo. But ye're quite richt, Wullie. Wecanna be ower discreet when cash is involved. I'll get somehigh-class cairds for ye to inspect till the tea's infused.'
Macgregor would dearly have liked to follow her into the shop.
'She's a clinker,' observed Willie under his breath.
'Eh?'
'Naething.'
Which was all the conversation during the absence of the hostess.
She returned with a tray. Willie was tempted by a card with the'V.C.' emblazoned on it, but feared it would look 'swanky' on hispart. Though hampered by the adverse criticisms of Macgregor, whonaturally wanted to hold Christina's hand under cover of the tableas long as possible, he succeeded at last in choosing one entitled'The Soldier's Return,' depicting a bronzed youth running toembrace an old lady awaiting him in a cottage porch.
'If that doesna touch the spot,' said Christina, 'I'm a duchess.'
They sat down to tea.
Much to Willie's relief, Christina apparently forgot all about ablessing. Anxious to please, he expressed admiration at theabundance of good things.
'I like to see a table groanin',' said the hospitable hostess.
'There'll be mair nor the table groanin' afore lang,' observedMacgregor.
They all laughed like happy people, especially Willie, until with astart he remembered the cream cookies and his omission to bring anextra hanky. All the same, he proceeded to enjoy himself prettyheartily, and did the agreeable to the best of his ability,furnishing sundry anecdotes of camp life which were as new toMacgregor as they probably were to himself. At last--
'Try a cream cookie,' said Christina.
But he could not face it. 'Cream,' he said mournfully, 'doesnaagree wi' me. The last time I had cream--ma aunt had got it in forher cat that had the staggers--I lay in agony for three days an'three nichts an' several 'oors into the bargain. Ma aunt feared Iwas gaun to croak ma last.'
Macgregor made a choking sound, while Christina gravely hoped thatthe cat had also recovered, and passed the macaroons.
'Thenk ye,' said Willie, and readily resumed operations. But hewas not a little disgusted to note presently that Christina andMacgregor enjoyed their cream cookies without the slightest mishap.
His geniality was not fully restored until, at the end of the meal,Christina laid a box of superior cigarettes between her two guests.
'May I drap deid in five meenutes,' he declared, 'if ever I wastreated like this afore! Macgreegor, ye're jist a damp luckydeevil!'
'Oh, whisht!' said Christina smiling.
'Ye should get a girl, Wullie,' Macgregor remarked with the air ofan old married man.
'I ha'ena your luck, ma lad. If I was trustin' a girl, I'll bet yea bob she wud turn oot to be yin o' the sort that pinches a chap'swages afore they're warmed in his pooch, an' objec's to him smokin'a fag, an' tak's the huff if he calls her fig-face.'
'I'm afraid ye're a pessimist,' Christina said. 'I used to dae abit in that line masel'. Ma favourite motto was: "Cheer up--ye'llsoon be deid!" But I got past that, an' so will you.'
With a sardonic smile Willie shook his head and took anothercigarette; and just then Christina had to go to attend to acustomer.
Willie turned to his friend. 'Thon was a dirty trick aboot thecookies. I've a guid mind to bide here as lang as you.'
'I didna think ye wud hae been feart for a cookie, Wullie. Ofcourse, I'll never tell her.'
'Weel, I accep' yer apology. Can ye len' us thruppence? I want topurchase some War Loan. . . . By Jings, ye're no a bad sort,Macgreegor. . . . Hoo dae ye think I behaved masel'?'
'No that bad.'
'Weel, I want ye to tell her I ha'end enjoyed masel' sae much sincema Uncle Peter's funeral, ten year back.'
'Tell her yersel'.'
Willie pocketed a few of the superior cigarettes, and rose. 'It'ssax-thirty,' he said. 'Her an' you'll be nane the waur o' hauf an''oor in private. See? So long! She's a clinker!'
And before Macgregor realized it, Willie had bolted through theshop and into the street.
Christina returned, her eyes wide. 'What gaed wrang wi' him, Mac?'
'Come here an' I'll tell ye.'
