‘We can go down, anyhow, and see what she is about,’ replied the lawyer; and that afternoon, accordingly, they went out to Mauchline.

Not being expected, they had to hire from the hotel, and arrived just as Gladys and Miss Peck were enjoying their afternoon tea.  She was unfeignedly glad to see them, and showed it in the very heartiness of her welcome.  It was somewhat of a relief to Mrs. Fordyce to find Gladys alone with Miss Peck.  She had quite expected to meet the objectionable girls in the drawing-room, but there were no evidences of their presence in the house at all, nor did Gladys allude to them in any way.

She had a thousand and one questions to ask about them all, and appeared so affectionately interested in everything pertaining to the family, that Mr. Fordyce could not forbear casting a rather triumphant glance at his wife.

’As the mountain would not come to Mahomet, Mahomet has come to the mountain,’ he said in his good-natured way.  ’You should have heard the doleful conversation about you at breakfast this morning.  Were your ears not ringing?’

‘No, I had something more serious to take up my attention,’ said Gladys a trifle soberly.  ’I hope you have come to stay a few days—­until to-morrow, at least?’

‘Are all your other guests away?’ inquired Mrs. Fordyce, with the faintest trace of hardness in her voice.

’Christina Balfour is here still.  Her companion left this morning rather suddenly,’ said Gladys, and it was evident that she felt rather distressed.  ‘In fact, she ran away from Bourhill.’

‘Indeed!’ exclaimed Mrs. Fordyce, in astonishment.  ’Why should she have run away?  It would have been quite sufficient, surely, for her to have said she wished to return to Glasgow.  You were not keeping her here against her will, I presume?’

‘No,’ replied Gladys a trifle unsteadily.  ’I cannot say she has treated us well.  It was a very silly as well as a wrong proceeding to get up in the middle of the night and leave the door wide open, as she did.  She has disappointed me very much.’

Mrs. Fordyce looked at Gladys in a kind of wonder.  Her candour and her justness were as conspicuous as her decision of character.  It evidently cost her pride no effort to admit that she had made a mistake, though the admission was proof of the correct prophecy made by Mrs. Fordyce when the hot words had passed between them concerning Liz at Bellairs Crescent.  Mrs. Fordyce, however, was generous enough to abstain from undue triumph.

’Well, well, my dear, we all make mistakes, though we don’t all admit so readily as you have done that they are mistakes,’ she said good-humouredly.  ’I suppose the girl felt the restraint of this quiet life too much.  What was her occupation before she came down?  I don’t know that I heard anything about her.’

‘She was once a mill girl with Mr. Fordyce,’ answered Gladys.  ’She is the girl who disappeared, don’t you remember?—­Walter Hepburn’s sister.’