From the city Gladys went by car to Kelvinside, and walked up to Bellairs Crescent.  Habit is very strong; not yet could the girl, so long used to the strictest and most meagre economies, bear to indulge herself in small luxuries.  The need of the world was always with her.  She thought always of the many to whom such small sums meant riches.  She was not expected at Bellairs Crescent, and she found her friends entertaining at afternoon tea.  Some one was singing when she reached the drawing-room door, and when the song was over, she slipped in, surprised, and a little taken aback, to see so many people in the room.  A number of them were known to her; there had been many pleasant gatherings at Troon in the summer, and, as was natural, Miss Graham of Bourhill, with her interesting personality and her romantic history, had received a great deal of attention from the Fordyces’ large circle of friends.  The warmth of the greeting accorded to her made the lovely colour flush high in her cheek, and her eyes sparkle with added brilliance.

‘Yes, I came up only at noon.  I have been in the city since then,’ she replied, in answer to many questions.  ’Oh, how do you do, Mr. Fordyce?  I did not expect to see you.’

‘Nor I you,’ said George Fordyce impressively.  ’I was dragged here by Julia against my will, and this is the reward of fraternal virtue.’

It was a daring speech, and the manner conveyed still more than the words.  The colour broke again over her face in a wavering flood, and her eyes down-dropped under his ardent gaze.  These things were noted by several present, and conclusions rapidly drawn.

‘You must not talk nonsense to me,’ she said, recovering herself, and speaking with her quaint, delightful dignity.  ’Remember your promise at Paris.’

‘What promise?  Did I make one?’

‘You know you did,’ she said reproachfully.  ’We agreed to be friendly, and between friends there should never be any foolish compliments.’

’Well, I can’t keep faith; it’s impossible to see you and remember any such promise.  Besides, it’s sober truth,’ he replied, growing bolder still.  ’Let me get you some tea.  Isn’t it rather lively here?  Doesn’t it make you regret having buried yourself in the backwoods at the very beginning of the season?’

‘No; I don’t care anything about the season,’ replied Gladys truthfully.  ’Yes, you may bring me some tea, if you don’t stay talking after you have brought it.  How beautiful Clara is looking to-day.’

‘Clara—­yes; she’s a handsome girl,’ said George, regarding his cousin with but a languid approval.  She looked very handsome and stately in her trained gown of brown velvet, with a touch of yellow at the throat, but her expression was less bright than usual.  The two who spoke of her at the moment did not guess that they were responsible for the sudden change from gay to grave in her demeanour.

‘Oh, Gladys, we were coming down on Saturday, Len and I,’ whispered Mina at her elbow; ’but now you will stay, and that will do as well.  How are you supporting life down there just now? and how is that sweet little oddity, Miss Caroline Peck?’