s she neared the
landing, a herald of her coming. She heard quite distinctly the grating
of the stool on the floor, and a step coming towards her--a step which
even now sounded quite familiarly in her ears.

'It is I--Gladys,' she said, trying to speak quite naturally, but
conscious of a shrinking embarrassment which made her cheeks nervously
flush. 'The door was open, so I came right in. How are you, Walter?'

In his face shone something of the old bright friendliness, but as she
looked at the shabby youth, with his unshaved face and threadbare
clothes, her fastidious eye disapproved of him just as it had
disapproved of him when they met, boy and girl, for the first time in
the rooms below.

'I am quite well,' he answered in his quick, abrupt unsmiling manner.
'But why do you always come without any warning? If you let me know, I
should be ready for you. I am always busy in the morning, and a fellow
who has so much hard work to do can't always be in trim to receive
ladies.'

It was rather an ungracious greeting, which Gladys was quick enough to
resent. The gentle meekness of the girl had merged itself into the
dignity of the woman, which insists upon due deference being paid.

'I am quite sorry if I intrude, Walter,' she said rather stiffly. 'I
shall not keep you long. All the same, I am coming in to sit down for a
little, as I have something very particular to speak to you about.'

'Come in. Of course you know I am glad to see you,' he said hurriedly;
and Gladys could not help rather enjoying his evident confusion. If he
felt nervous and awkward in her presence, it was no more than he
deserved to feel, since _she_ was so entirely unchanged.

'I am glad you have the grace to be civil, at least,' she said, with a
bewildering smile, which vanished, however, when she seated herself on
the battered old office-stool; all her anxiety and troubled concern made
her face grave to sadness as she put the question--

'Do you know that your sister is in Glasgow?'

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A TROUBLED HEART.

Walter did not know. His expression of surprise, tinged with alarm and a
touch of shame, answered her before he spoke.

'How do you know that?' he asked.

'I saw her last night in Berkeley Street, just outside the Crown Halls,
where we were at a concert,' said Gladys. 'Is it possible you have never
seen her?'

'No; and I don't believe it was her you saw. You must have made a
mistake,' replied