‘I have never said it will take place,’ said Gladys calmly.  ’I wish people would leave me and my concerns alone.’

Miss Peck could see the girl’s face in the long glass, the red spot burning on her cheeks, and the beautiful lips angrily quivering, and she became more and more perplexed.  Of late Gladys had become a being difficult to understand.

‘What is the use of talking in that manner, Gladys?’ she said, with a faint show of sternness.  ’I saw Mr. Fordyce in town the other day, and he told me it is quite likely the marriage will take place on the eighth of October.  It is quite impossible that it could be definitely fixed without you.’

’I suppose so.  And what did Walter say when you told him my marriage-day was fixed?’ inquired Gladys, as she tied the ribbon on her hair.

‘I shall not tell you what he said,’ answered the little spinster, quite severely for her.  ’You are in a mood which would make you laugh at an honest heart’s suffering.’

‘You think very highly of me, Guardy, I must say,’ said Gladys a trifle unsteadily.  ’But why do you speak of an honest man’s suffering?  Do you mean to say it made Walter suffer to hear I was going to be married?’

’My dear, he loves you as his own soul.  I can never forget how he looked and spoke of you,’ said the little spinster.  ’He is a good and noble man, and God will bless him wherever he goes.’

There was a few minutes’ silence, then Gladys walked over to the window, and drawing aside the lace hangings, allowed the red glory of the setting sun to flood the whole room.  Standing there, with her white shapely arm against the delicate lace, she looked out in silence upon the lovely prospect which had so often filled her soul with delight.  A shadow, dark as a storm-cloud, had fallen upon that sunny scene, and she saw no beauty in it.

’I have loved this place well, Guardy—­loved and longed for it.  It has been an idol to me, and my punishment is here.  I wish I had never seen it.  I wish I had never left the city, never been parted from the old friends.  I am a miserable woman.  I wish I had never been born.’

With a quick gesture she let the curtain drop, and throwing herself on the end of the couch, buried her face in the pillows.

Here again it was Miss Peck’s privilege to administer some crumbs of comfort to the sad heart of the woman, even as she had once comforted the child.  Stooping over her, she laid her hand tenderly on the bent golden head.

’My dear, it is not yet too late.  If you do not love this man, it will be a great sin to marry him—­a wrong done to yourself and to him.  If there is a chord in your heart responsive to Walter’s, don’t stifle it.  What is anything in this world in comparison with happiness and peace of mind?’