# Oh! Christina!/Chapter 2

pp. 19–25.

### II
#### THE GEOGRAPHY LESSON

{[fqm|"]}WHAT for are ye greetin', auntie? Is it an awfu' sad story ye're at?"
Miss Purvis looked up from the novelette, and wiped her eyes hurriedly and in a somewhat shamefaced manner.
"I—I fear I've got a cold in my head, Christina," she said apologetically, unable to meet her niece's keen gaze. "A cold in my head always makes my eyes water, you know," she went on. "But don't trouble about me, Christina. Get on with your lessons, like a good girl."
"A cauld in the heid should mak' ye sneeze. Yer nose is a wee thing rid, but that's wi' greetin', auntie. I've been watchin' the tears comin' oot yer e'en an' playin' pap on the paper. What's the story aboot?"
"I have already told you to get on with your lessons, Christina," said Miss Purvis, with sundry sniffs.
"Hooch, ay! But are ye no' gaun to tell us what ye was greetin' aboot?"
"Certainly not. You are much too young to understand anything about the tragedies of life, my dear." Miss Purvis's voice became soft.
"Och, I've read dizzens o' thae wee stories," said Christina. "An' I've been gey near greetin' masel' whiles. Are ye jist at the second last chapter, auntie? Ay, that'll be whaur ye are."
"How do you know that?" Miss Purvis regarded with surprise her niece, who was seated too far away to have read the small type of the novelette.
"I jist guessed. The second last chapter's aye a bit sad," said Christina. "But it a' comes oot in the wash in the last chapter," she added cheerfully. "It's a peety ye canna keep mind o' that at the sad bits. Eh, auntie?"
Miss Purvis smiled slightly. "I'm afraid the stories would not be so interesting if we always remembered that," she said.
Christina did not speak for fully a minute. Her expression was thoughtful.
"Auntie!"
"Yes, dear?"
"I suppose ye like the love-stories the best?"
"Oh, well——" Miss Purvis hesitated. "Most of the stories I read now are what one might call love-stories. But I used to read other books a great deal—Carlyle, and Ruskin, and——"
"Was they murder stories?"
"Dear me, no! What an idea! They weren't stories at all. They were—well, some day you must read them, too, or perhaps I shall read them to you. They are very inspiring."
"Are they? I think I like love-stories the best, tae," said Christina. "My! it's fine when ye come to a rale lovey-dovey bit whaur the young man proposes——"
"Really, Christina! I cannot allow you to talk of such things——"
"But it's awfu' when the young leddy says she canna except him, because she's got to mairry anither man for his gold! There some unco bad folk in the stories whiles—oh, terrible bad folk, an' that crool! D'ye never feel ye wud like to knock the faces aff the bad yins, auntie?"
"I think I had better hear you repeat some of your lessons now," said Miss Purvis. "What about your history and geography?"
"Aw, there's nae hurry for them. D'ye no' feel ye wud like to knock——"
"That was a dreadful thing to say. Do not repeat it, Christina."
"But d'ye no' get angry at the bad yins, auntie?"
"Of course," Miss Purvis replied, rather firmly, "I am bound to feel indignant with those characters who are responsible for the sufferings of the good people in the story. But we should not allow the desire for cruel vengeance to animate our——"
"Och, I believe ye wud knock the stuffin' oot the bad yins, if ye got the chance, auntie!"
"Hush, Christina! You must not use such language. Try to remember that it is unmaidenly, and that it hurts me."
"I'll try," said Christina agreeably. "I say, auntie, did ye ever see onybody proposin'?"
"No, indeed! Give me your geography."
Christina unwillingly handed over the slim volume, and a short silence ensued, during which the aunt found the place.
"Now, Christina, where is Liverpool situated, and for what is it noted?"
"We had that last week," said Christina. "Ye're at the wrang page. My! I wud like fine to see a proposal. Me an' Jessie Ann M'Kirdy followed Miss Carvey an' a young gentleman for three mile on Sunday efternune, awa' through the woods, thinkin' he was gaun to propose, but——"
"Christina!" Miss Purvis exclaimed in a horrified voice. "What a shocking thing to do!"
"But he didna propose."
"I mean that it was shocking of you to spy upon people. You must never do it again."
"But I bet Jessie Ann a farden's worth o' slim-jim he wud propose next Sunday. We've been keepin' an e'e on them for a while back. He's been comin' wi' the efternune boat every Seturday since the New Year, an' last Seturday he was that gled to see her that he fell ower a herrin'-boax on the pier an' smashed his guid bumberstick. An' then he tried to let on he was used to daein' that every day, an' then he gi'ed the pierman a glove instead o' a penny, an' then——"
"That will do, Christina," said Miss Purvis severely. "I am shocked and grieved at your want of delicacy. But I may tell you that the young gentleman has been betrothed to Miss Carvey since Christmas."
"D'ye mean engaged?"
"I do."
"Weel, that's an' awfu' drap," said Christina sadly. "I suppose Jessie Ann'll ha'e to get the slim-jim."
"Are you in the habit of laying wagers with Jessie Ann M'Kirdy?" The voice of Miss Purvis was then nearer to being "awful" than it had ever been, to Christina's ears, at least.
"Layin' what?" the girl stammered.
"You spoke just now of a bet——"
"Oh, that's what ye mean." Christina hesitated.
"Answer me truthfully, Christina. Are you in the habit of betting with Jessie Ann?"
"Whiles," replied Christina, at last, with an effort. "But"—her face cleared a little—"I never lost till this time, auntie."
Miss Purvis shook her head in a helpless fashion.
"Child," she said solemnly, "don't you understand that it's wrong to bet, whether you win or lose?"
"I'll no' dae't again, auntie," said Christina in a whisper.
"You promise?"
"Uh-ha."
"And you will never seek to spy on people?"
"I—I'll no' dae't again. But, auntie—it—it wudna be wrang to see a proposal by—by accident—eh? Supposin' I couldna help seein'——"
"You would shut your eyes, if you could not turn your back. Now, wouldn't you, my dear?"
Christina's better nature won—with a struggle. "Uh-ha," she muttered.
Whereupon Miss Purvis came over and kissed her, and promised her a whole pennyworth of slim-jim to divide with her fellow-sinner.
"Maybe," said Christina reflectively, "I wudna like a real proposal as well as yin in a book. D'ye think it wud be as nice, auntie?"
"I'm sure I could not say, dear," her aunt replied, as she reseated herself and opened the geography book. "But now you must put all those ideas out of your head, Christina, and keep them out for years to come. When you want a story to read come to me for it. Don't just read anything you happen to find on the counter. You will have plenty of time for all that later. And now—where is Bristol?"
"On the map. I markit it wi' ma pincil. If ye turn back a page——"
"But whereabouts in England is it?"
"Aw, ask me anither!" said Christina.
It was not the geography lesson that kept Christina lying awake that night half-an-hour longer than usual. Mr. Baldwin had called that day, and she had seen him during the dinner hour.
"He's an awfu' nice man," she thought in the silence and darkness, "an' I think he's saft on auntie. I wonder if she's saft on him. Oh, I wonder! But she wudna talk about love when I tried to get her to talk about it. My! It's peculiar!"