’Ay, it is rather cold.  I’ve been often chilled to the bone, and I’ve seen Walter’s fingers blue with cold,’ he said.  ’You’ll run up soon and tell him to haul all the soap-boxes out of the fireplace, and build up a big fire to be ready for the morning, lighted the first thing.’

‘Very well, uncle; but I don’t think I’ll let you up-stairs to-morrow.’

’It’s for Walter, not for me.  If I’m better, I’ve something else to do to-morrow.’

‘Well, we’ll see,’ said Gladys briskly.  ’Now I must set on the kettle.  Wouldn’t you like something for tea?’

‘No, nothing.  I’ve no hunger,’ he answered, and his eyes followed her as she crossed the floor and busied herself with her accustomed skill about the fireplace.

‘You’re an industrious creature.  Nothing comes amiss to you,’ he said musingly.  ’It’s a poor life for a young woman like you.  I wonder you’ve stood it so long?’

‘It has been a very good life on the whole, uncle,’ Gladys replied cheerfully.  ’I have had a great many blessings; I never go out but I feel how many.  And I have always tried to be contented.’

‘Have you never been very angry with me,’ he asked unexpectedly.

’No, never; but’—­

‘But what?’

‘Sorry for you often.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you did not take all the good of life you might.’

‘How could I?  A poor man can’t revel in the good things of life,’ he said, with a slight touch of irritation.

’No, quite true; but some poor people seem to make more out of small things.  That was what I meant,’ said Gladys meekly.  ’But we must not talk anything disagreeable, uncle; it is not good for you.’

’But I want to talk.  I say, were you disappointed because I never took you into Ayrshire in the summer?’

’Yes, uncle, a little, but it soon passed.  When summer comes again, you will take me, I am sure.’

‘You will go, anyhow, whether I do or not,’ he said pointedly.  ’Will you tell me, child, what you think of Walter?’

‘Of Walter, uncle?’ Gladys paused, with her hand on the cupboard door, and looked back at him with a slightly puzzled air.

‘Yes.  Do you think him a clever chap?’

‘I do.  I think he can do anything, Uncle Abel,’ she replied warmly.  ‘Yes, Walter is very clever.’

‘And good?’

‘And good.  You and I know that there are few like him,’ was her immediate reply.

‘And you like him?’

‘Of course I do; it would be very strange if I did not,’ she replied, without embarrassment.

’Do you think he would be capable of filling a much higher post than he has at present?’

’Of course I do; and if you will not be angry, I will say that I have often thought that you do not pay him enough of money.’

’There’s nothing like going through the hards in youth.  It won’t do him any harm,’ said the old man.  ’He won’t suffer by it, I promise you that.’