Walter stood in silence another full minute.  It was a strange situation, strained to the utmost, but his faith in the little seamstress was so great that he almost reverenced her.  He felt that it would be better for Liz to be with a friend of her own sex, and he turned to her pleadingly.

’It’s true what Teen says, you are not well.  Let her take you home.  I’ll get a cab and go with you to the door, and I’ll come and see you to-morrow.  We are thankful to have found you again, my—­my dear.’

The last words he uttered with difficulty, for such expressions were not common on his lips; but some impulse, born of a vast pity, in which no shadow of resentment mingled, made him long to be as tender with her as he knew how.  The manner of her reception by these two, whom she had wronged by her long silence, affected Liz deeply, though she made no sign.

‘I dinna see what better I can dae, if ye’ll no’ stump up for the cab to Maryhill,’ she said ungraciously.  ‘A’ the same, I wish I had never seen ye.  Ye had nae business watchin’ for me, ony o’ ye.  I’m my ain mistress, an’ I’m no’ needin’ onything aff ye.’

The little seamstress nodded to Walter, and he hailed a passing cab.  All the time, even after they were inside the vehicle, she never relaxed her hold of Liz, but they accomplished the distance to Teen’s poor little home in complete silence.  Liz felt and looked like a prisoner; Walter’s face wore a sad and downcast expression; the little seamstress only appeared jubilant.

It was nearly midnight when they ascended the long stair to the little garret, and Liz had to pause many times in the ascent to recover her breath and to let her cough have vent.  She grumbled all the way up; but when Teen broke up the fire and lit the gas she sank into an old basket-chair with a more contented expression on her face.

‘Noo, ye’ll hae a cup o’ tea in a crack,’ Teen said blithely.  ’I’ve gotten a new teapot, Liz; the auld yin positively fell to bits.  Wull ye no’ bide an’ drink a cup, Walter?’

’Not to-night; I think you would be better alone.  But I’ll come to-morrow and see you, Liz.  Good-night; I am sure you will be comfortable here.’

‘Oh ay, I dinna doot.  I say, ye are a toff, an’ nae mistake; ye micht pass for a lord,’ she said, with a kind of scornful approbation.  ’Ye’re risin’ in the scale while I’m gaun doon; but I’ve seen something o’ life, onyhoo, an’ that’s aye something.’

She gave him her hand, which was quite white and unsoiled, languidly, and bade him a careless good-night.  As Walter went out of the kitchen, she was surprised, but not more so than he was himself, that two tears rolled down his cheeks.  He dashed them away quickly, however, and when the little seamstress accompanied him to the door, he was quite calm again.

’You’ll take care of her and not let her away, and I’ll be eternally obliged to you.  I trust you entirely,’ he said quickly.