‘It wad be a sin for me to gang,’ replied Liz quietly.  ‘I’m no’ fit to speak to the like o’ you.  At least, that’s what them ye belang to wad say.’

’I’ve nobody belonging to me to dictate to me, Liz, and I’m not afraid to trust you.  You may have sinned, I don’t know, but you have had many temptations.  I want to show you a happier life.  Tell her, Teen, how lovely it is at dear Bourhill.’

‘I couldna,’ answered Teen in a choking voice.  ‘It’s like heaven, Liz.’

‘Then it’ll be ower guid for me,’ said Liz wearily, ‘an’ I’ll better bide whaur I am.  But, I say, ye are queerer than ever, an’ I thocht ye gey queer last time I saw ye.’

’Never mind what you think of me.  Say you will come with me to-day.  I came for the very purpose of taking you away,’ said Gladys cheerfully.  ’Do you remember that absurd story about “Lord Bellew’s Bride” you were reading the first time I saw you?  My own fortune is very nearly as wonderful as that of “Lord Bellew’s Bride."’

Liz faintly smiled.

’Eh, sic lees there is in papers!  It shouldna be printed.  Things like yon never happen in real life—­never, never!’ She spoke with passionate emphasis, which indicated that she keenly felt what she said.

‘Ye’ll be gaun to get mairret next?’ she added, looking at Gladys, who smiled and nodded, with slightly heightened colour.

‘Well, what is to be done?  Are you going down with me to-day?’ she asked, looking from one to another, and tapping her dainty foot a trifle impatiently on the floor.

‘I canna come the day, for my claes are a’ at Maryhill,’ said Liz.

‘But I’ll gang for them, Liz,’ put in the little seamstress quickly.  ’They can be easy got frae Maryhill afore nicht.  It’s only twelve o’clock the noo.’

’There need not be any such hurry; I think I shall stay in town all night,’ said Gladys, ’and you can arrange it together, either to go with me or alone.  Teen can manage it; she knows all about the trains, having been there before.  I shall be sure to be home not later than to-morrow night, and if anything should prevent me getting down then, there is Miss Peck, Teen, who, you know, will make you very welcome.’

‘Yes, I ken,’ nodded Teen.  ’If ye only kent what like a place it is, Liz, ye wad be jumpin’.’

‘I’m sure I dinna ken what way ye want me doon there,’ said Liz, relapsing into her weary, indifferent manner.  ‘I canna understand it.’

‘Can’t you?’ asked Gladys merrily.  ’Well, I want you, that’s all.  I want to have the pleasure of seeing you grow strong and well again.  Nobody shall meddle with you.  You shall do just as you like, and you two will be companions to each other.’

Teen looked reproachfully at her friend, wondering to see her so undemonstrative, never even uttering a single word of thanks for the kindness so freely offered.  She shook hands with Gladys in silence, and allowed her to depart without further remark.