Miss Caroline Peck had received that very morning a letter from Mrs. Fordyce of Bellairs Crescent—­a letter which had put her all in a flutter.  It was a letter of warning, counsel, and reproof concerning Miss Peck’s duty towards her young charge, and laying a strong injunction upon her to be exceedingly judicious in her treatment of the eccentric guests whom Gladys had again invited to Bourhill.  It was not a wise epistle at all, though Mrs. Fordyce had regarded it with complacency as a triumph of diplomatic letter-writing.  Instead of stating plainly the whole facts, and pointing out how desirable it was that Gladys should not be thrown too much into the company of the girls from the East End, it threw out certain dark hints, which only mystified and distressed poor little Miss Peck, and made her anticipate with apprehension the arrival of the pair.  It was a letter which, moreover, could not possibly do the smallest good, seeing Miss Peck, was not only far too fond of her young charge to cross her in the slightest whim, but that she secretly approved of everything she did.  Of Mrs. Fordyce, Miss Peck, was mortally afraid and that very kind-hearted person would have been amazed had she known how the little spinster, metaphorically speaking, shrank into herself in her presence.  The solemn warning she had received did not, however, prevent her giving the two girls a warm welcome when they presented themselves at the house that afternoon.

‘Miss Graham has not come home, Christina,’ she said fussily, as she shook hands with them both, ’but I feel sure she will be here to-night.  Meantime I must do what I can to make you comfortable.  Come with me to your old room, Christina, and you shall have tea directly.’

Though she had directed all her remarks to Teen, she did not fail at the same time to make the keenest scrutiny of her companion, whose appearance filled the little spinster with wonder.  She was certainly a very handsome girl, and there was nothing forward or offensive in her manner—­nay, rather, she seemed to feel somewhat shy, and kept herself in the background as much as possible.  Acting slightly on Mrs. Fordyce’s advice, Miss Peck gave the girls their tea, with its delightful adjuncts of new-laid eggs and spring chicken, in her own sitting-room, and she quite prided herself on her strength of mind as she decided to advise Gladys to give them their meals by themselves, except on a rare occasion, when she might wish to give them a treat.  After tea, during which Miss Peck and the little seamstress sustained the conversation entirely between them, Liz apparently being too shy or too reticent to utter a word, the two girls went out for a walk.  In their absence, to the great delight of Miss Peck, Gladys arrived home in a dogcart, hired from the Mauchline Hotel.

‘You have something to tell me, haven’t you?’ cried Gladys eagerly, as she kissed her old friend.  ’The girls have arrived, I am sure.  And what do you think of poor Lizzie?  Is she not all I told you?’