Gladys rose up, weary and perplexed, her face looking worn and grey in the brilliant sunshine.

Her heart re-echoed the words of the little spinster; for the moment the loveliness of the earth seemed a mockery and a shame.

‘Why is it so?’ was the only question she asked.

Miss Peck shook her head.  That great question, which has perplexed so many millions of God’s creatures, was beyond her power of solution.  But from that day it was seldom out of the mind of Gladys, robbing all the sweetness and the interest from her life.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XLIII.

A WOMAN’S HEART.

The second summer of Gladys Graham’s changed life was less happy than the first.  Her young enthusiasm had received many chills, and somehow the wealth with which she had anticipated so large a blessing to herself and others, seemed a less desirable possession than when it first came into her hands.  Doing good was not simply a question of will, but was often surrounded by so many difficulties that it could not be accomplished, at least after the manner she had planned.  Her experience with Liz Hepburn had disheartened her inexpressibly, and for the time being she felt inclined to let her scheme for the welfare of the working girls fall into abeyance.  In May she left Bourhill in possession of Miss Peck and the regretful Teen, and departed to London, apparently with relief, in company with the Fordyces.  Her state of mind was entirely favourable to the furtherance of the Fordyce alliance, and when, early in June, George joined the party in London, she allowed him to take for granted that she would marry him in the autumn, and even permitted Mrs. Fordyce to make sundry purchases in view of that great event.  All the time, however, she felt secretly uneasy and dissatisfied.  She was by no means an easy person to manage, and tried her lover’s patience to the utmost.  Her sweetness of disposition seemed to have deserted her for the time being; she was irritable, unreasonable, exacting, as different from the sunny-hearted Gladys of old as could well be imagined.  The only person who was at all shrewd enough to guess at the cause of this grave alteration was the discriminating Mina, who pondered the thing often in her mind, and wondered how it was likely to end.  She did not believe that the marriage would ever come off, and her guessing at all sides of the question came nearer the truth than she herself believed.  Gladys appeared in no hurry to return to Scotland; nay, after six weeks in London, she pleaded for a longer exile, and induced Mrs. Fordyce to extend their trip to Switzerland; and so the whole beautiful summer was loitered away in foreign lands, and it was the end of August before Gladys returned to Bourhill.  During her long absence she had been a faithful correspondent, writing weekly letters to Miss Peck and Teen; but when she returned that August evening to her own, she was touched inexpressibly by the wistful looks with which these two, the most faithful friends she possessed, regarded her.  They thought her changed.  She was thinner and older looking; her grace and dignity not less marked, her beauty not impaired, only the brightness, the inexpressible air of vivacity and spontaneous gladness seemed to have disappeared.  She smiled at their tearful greeting, a quick, fleeting, almost melancholy smile.