And, with a smile and a nod, she left the little seamstress to her work; but it lay unheeded on her lap, and her eyes were heavy with a grey mist which came up from her heart’s bitterness.  Yes, life did indeed appear sad and hard to Teen, and all things moving in an entirely contrary way.

Miss Peck came bustling into her darling’s dressing-room very shortly, and began to fuss about her in her tender, nervous fashion, as if it were not possible for her to show her gladness at having her back.  Gladys did not say very much for a little; but at last, when she was brushing at her soft shining hair, she turned round suddenly, and looked into the old lady’s face with rather an odd look on her own.

’Now, sit down, Miss Peck, and tell me every single, solitary thing about Walter.’

The little lady gave a nervous start.  She had just been wondering how to introduce this subject.

’Christina has told you that he has been here.  My dear, I was very sorry for him.  He is a splendid young fellow, and I wish’—­

She paused there, nor did Gladys ask her to finish her sentence.

’Teen tells me he is giving up his business.  Do you think that is a wise step, Miss Peck?’ Gladys asked, with a fine indifference which rather surprised the old lady.

’It may be wise for him, my dear.  He seems to feel he cannot remain any longer in this country.’

‘Did he ask any questions about me?’

‘Yes, Gladys, a few.’

‘Well, I hope you did not give him any unnecessary information?’ said Gladys rather sharply.

’My dear, I told him everything I could think of.  I did not think you would wish anything kept back from your old friend.  His interest is very genuine.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Gladys coolly, as she began to coil her long tresses round her shapely head; ’we must take it for granted, anyhow.  And what did he give you in exchange for all your interesting information?  Did he condescend to tell you anything about himself?’

Miss Peck was wounded by the tone; such bitter and sarcastic words she had never heard fall from those gentle lips before.

’We had a long talk, Gladys, and I imagined—­perhaps it was only imagination—­that it relieved and made him happier to talk to me.  His father is dead, and he has taken his mother home to his own house, and she will go with him abroad.’

‘Where to?  Is it quite decided? or has he already gone away?’

‘Not yet, I think.’

‘Did he ask where I was?’

‘Yes.’

‘For a particular address?’

‘No.’

’Well, I think the least he might have done was to write and let me know all this.’

‘My dear child, be reasonable,’ said the little spinster, in gentle reproof.  ’He came expecting to see you, and he left a kind message for you.  I don’t see that it would have done either you or him any good to write a letter; your ways must lie so far apart now.  I told him we expected your marriage shortly.’