He took it, and before she knew, it was on her finger again.

'Ye've jist got to keep it!' he said, desperately. 'An' Christina,
I--I'm gaun to kiss ye!'

'Oh, mercy!'

But he had none. . . .

'Are we engaged or no?' he whispered at last.

'Let me get ma breath.'

'Hurry up!'

She laughed, though her eyes were wet. 'Oh, dear,' she murmured,
'I never thought I wud get engaged wi'oot a--a . . .'

'A what?'

Suddenly she leaned forward and touched his cheek. 'Dinna fash
yersel', Mac. Bein' in war-time, I suppose the best o' us has got
to dae wi'oot some luxury or ither--sich as a proper High-Class
Proposal.'




V