by J. J. Bell
XI
AN INVITATION
After considering the matter at intervals for about thirty years,Miss Tod, Christina's employer, decided to take a short change ofair by accepting the long-standing invitation of an old and agedfriend who dwelt in the country. The hour of departure arriving,she shed tears, expressed the fear that she was going to her death,embraced the girl, handed her the keys of the premises, andrequested her to make any use she pleased of the rather stuffyliving-room behind the shop.
Christina had no notion of accepting the offer until, an hour ortwo later, the idea struck her that it would be fun to give alittle tea party for Macgregor and Willie Thomson. She knew Williebut slightly, but though her respect was no greater than herknowledge, she had kept a softish corner for him since the day, twoyears ago, when he had gone out of his way to inform her,impudently enough, that his friend Macgregor was not courting acertain rather bold and attractive damsel called Jessie Mary.
So she wrote forthwith to Macgregor and enclosed the followinginvitation, in her neatest writing, for his friend:--
Miss Christina Baldwin requests the unspeakable pleasure of Pte. William Thomson's company
to T. T. Tea
on the first evening possible (Sunday excepted) at 5.30 precisely till 7 prompt.
Menu.
Sandwiches, Sausage Rolls, Hot Cookies, Cream Dittos, Macaroons, Cheesecakes, Currant Cakes, Jam Puffs, Imperial (_nee_ German) Biscuits, And NO BREAD. God Save the King!
P.S.--Miss C. B. will expect Pte. W. T. to Ask a Blessing.
It took time and patience on Macgregor's part to persuade hisfriend that the missive was not a 'cod'; but once convinced of itsgenuineness, Willie took the business seriously. He swore,however, to have nothing to do with the matter of the P.S.Nevertheless, in moments of solitude, his lips might have beenobserved to move diligently, and it is possible that he wasmentally rehearsing 'For what we are about to receive, etc.' Hiswritten acceptance was a model in its way.
'Coming with thanks,--Yours truly, W. THOMSON.'
By the same post he wrote to his aunt--for cash; but her replyconsisting of a tract headed with a picture of a young man in theremnants of a bath towel dining in a pig-sty, he was compelled oncemore to appeal to Macgregor, who fortunately happened to be fairlyflush. He expended the borrowed shilling on a cane and a packet ofBreath Perfumers for himself, and for Christina a box of toffeewhich, being anhungered while on sentry duty the same night, hespeedily devoured with more relish than regret.
Unless we reckon evenings spent in Macgregor's home in the smallboy period, and a funeral or two, Willie's experience of teaparties was nil. Despite his frequently expressed contempt forsuch 'footerin' affairs,' he was secretly flattered by Christina'sinvitation. At the same time, he suffered considerable anguish ofmind on account of his ignorance of the 'fancy behaviour' which hedeemed indispensable in the presence of a hostess whom heconsidered 'awfu' genteel.' With reluctance, but in sheerdesperation, he applied to his seldom-failing friend.
'What the blazes,' he began with affected unconcern, 'dae ye dae ata tea pairty?'
'Eat an' jaw,' came the succinct reply.
'But what dae ye jaw aboot?'
'Onything ye like--as long as ye leave oot the bad language.'
'I doobt I'll no ha'e muckle to say,' sighed Willie.
'She'll want to hear aboot the camp an' so on,' Macgregor said, byway of encouragement.
'But that'll be piper's news to her. You've tell't her----'
'I've never had the time.'
Willie gasped. 'What the ---- dae you an' her jaw aboot?'
'Nane o' your business!'
'Haw, haw!' laughed Willie, mirthlessly. 'My! but ye're a spoonydeevil!--nae offence intendit.' The apology was made hastily owingto a sudden change in Macgregor's expression and colour.
Macgregor lit a cigarette and returned his well-stocked aluminiumcase to his pocket.
The silence was broken by Willie.
'Savin' up?'
'Ay.'
'It's a dashed bad habit, Macgreegor. Dinna let it grow on ye. Ifnaebody saved up, everybody wud be weel aff. . . . Aweel, whatmaun be maun be.' And, groaning, Private Thomson drew forth apacket which his friend had 'stood' him the previous day.'Regairdin' this tea pairty,' he resumed, 'are ye supposed to eata' ye can an' leave what ye canna--if there's onything to leave?'
'She'll expect ye to eat a' ye can.'
'It's easy seen she doesna ken me.'
'Oh, she'll be prepared for the warst, Wullie,' said Macgregor, hisgood-humour returned. 'I can shift a bit masel' when I'm in form.'
Whereat Willie's countenance was illuminated by a happy thought.'I'll bet ye a tanner I'll shift mair nor you!'
Macgregor laughed and shook his head. 'If you an' me was gaun oorlane to restewrant, I wud tak' ye on; but----'
'Aw, ye mean it wudna be the thing a tea pairty?'
'Hardly.'
'Weel, weel,' said Willie, with sorry resignation, 'honest money'sill to earn. It wud ha'e been a snip for me. Ha'e ye a match?'Having lit up: 'Tell us what else I maunna dae at the pairty.'
Macgregor scratched his head. 'If it had been a denner pairty,' hesaid slowly, thinking doubtless of Aunt Purdie's, 'I could ha'egi'ed ye a queer list; but ye canna gang faur wrang at a teapairty.'
'I dinna want to gang an inch wrang.'
'Weel, then, for instance, some folk objec's to a chap sookin' histea frae his saucer----'
'I'll note that. Fire awa'!'
'An' if a cream cookie bursts----'
'Dae they burst whiles?'
'Up yer sleeve, as a rule,' said Macgregor very solemnly.
'Guid Goad! I'll pass the cream cookies.'
'But they're awfu' tasty.'
'Are they? . . . Weel, what dae ye dae if it bursts?'
'Never let bug.'
'Ay, but--but what aboot the cream?'
'Best cairry an extra hanky an' plug yer sleeve wi' it.'
After a dismal pause, Willie inquired: 'Could ye no get her toleave the cream cookies oot o' her programme, Macgreegor?'
Macgregor looked dubious. 'She's gey saft on them hersel', an' shemicht be offendit if we refused them. Of course they dinna scootup the sleeve every time.'
'Oh!'--more hopefully.
'Whiles they explode doon the waistcoat--I mean tunic.'
'That's enough!' wailed Willie. 'If the Clyde was handy, I wudgang an' droon masel'!'
On the third day following, they obtained late passes. Willie'suneasiness was considerable, yet so was his vanity. He affected anabsurdly devil-may-care deportment which so stirred Macgregor'ssense of pity that he had thoughts of taking back what he had saidabout the cream cookies. But at the last moment his bootlacesnapped. . . .
Willie's toilet was the most careful he had ever made, and includedan application of exceeding fragrant pomade pilfered from hiscorporal's supply and laid on thickly enough to stop a leak.Finally, having armed himself with his new cane and put sevenbreath perfumers and a cigarette in his mouth, he approached thestooping Macgregor and declared himself ready for the road.
'What's that atrocious smell?' demanded Macgregor, with unwontedcrustiness.
For once in his life Willie had no answer at hand, and for once heblushed.