‘You’ll make sure that she comes down, Teen?’ said Gladys, when they were outside the door.  ’Poor thing, she looks dreadfully ill and unhappy.  Where do you think she has been?’

Teen mournfully shook her head, and her large eyes filled with tears.

‘I’ll no’ let her away,’ she answered firmly.  ‘If she’ll no’ come doon to Bourhill, I’ll see that she disna gang onywhere else withoot me.’

‘You are a faithful friend,’ said Gladys quickly.  ’Has she—­has she seen her brother?’

Teen wondered somewhat at the hesitation with which the question was asked.

‘Ay; he was here yesterday.’

‘And what did he say, Teen?  Oh, I hope he was very gentle with her.’

‘I wasna in a’ the time, but I’m sure that kinder he couldna hae been.  He wanted her to gang to Colquhoun Street an’ bide, but she wadna.’

’Well, I hope she will come to Bourhill, and I think she will.  Good-bye.’

‘Weel, hae ye gotten me weel discussed?’ queried Liz sarcastically, when the little seamstress returned to the kitchen.  ’I canna understand that lassie by onybody.’

‘Nor I a’thegither, but I ken she’s guid,’ she answered simply.  ’Ye will gang to Bourhill, Liz?’

‘Maybe; I’ll see.  I say, do ye ken wha she’s gaun to mairry?’

‘I have an inklin’,’ replied Teen, and said no more, though her face became yet more gravely troubled.

‘Liz,’ she said suddenly, ’will ye tell me wan thing afore we gang doon to Bourhill, if we gang?’

‘What is’t?’

‘Had Fordyce onything to dae wi’ you gaun awa’ when you did?’

‘Mind yer ain business,’ replied Liz, with the utmost calmness, not even changing colour.  ‘I’m no’ gaun to tell ye a single thing.  My concerns are my ain, an’ if ye’re no’ pleased, weel, I can shift.’

The girl’s matter-of-fact, unruffled demeanour somewhat allayed Teen’s burning anxiety, and, afraid to try Liz too far, lest she should insist on leaving her, she held her peace.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXXV.

A REVELATION.

‘Your Aunt Isabel was here this afternoon, George,’ said Mrs. Fordyce to her son, when he came home from the mill that evening.  ’She came over to tell me Gladys is in town.  I said I thought you did not expect her.’

‘No, I did not,’ George replied.  ‘What’s she up for?—­anything new?’

’Oh, one of her fads.  Something about one of these girls from the slums.  Your aunt seemed to be rather distressed.  She thinks Gladys is going quite too far, and she really took the opportunity, when the girls had all gone to a studio tea, to come over to consult me.  We both think you are quite entitled to interfere.’

George shook his head.

’It is all very easy for you to say that, but I tell you Gladys won’t stand that sort of thing.’

’But, my dear, she must be made to stand it.  I must say her conduct is most unwomanly.  If she is to be your wife, she must be taught that you are to be considered in some ways.  You must be very firm with her, George; it will save no end of trouble afterwards.’