iffering in this respect from Teen, who
appeared to walk on air, and carried her exaltation of spirit in her
look and tone. But Liz was dull and silent, content to walk and drive,
and breathe that heavenly air which ought to have been the very elixir
of life to her, but otherwise appearing lifeless and uninterested.
Gladys was very kind and even tender with her, but just a little
disappointed. She watched her keenly, not knowing that all the while Liz
was in turn watching her, and at last she breathed a hint of her
disappointment into the ear of the little seamstress.

'Do you think Lizzie is enjoying Bourhill, Teen? She looks so
spiritless; but perhaps it is her health, though I think her looking a
little better than when she came.'

'It's no' her body, it's her mind,' said Teen slowly. 'She has something
on her mind.'

'Has she never said anything yet to you about where she was, or what she
was doing, all the time she was lost?' asked Gladys anxiously.

'Naething,' answered Teen, with a melancholy shake of her head. 'But I
think it's on that she's thinkin', an' whiles I dinna like her look.'

'I'm going to speak to her myself about it, Teen. Perhaps it is
something it would do her good to tell. Like you, I am often struck by
her look, it is so dreadfully sad. Yes, I shall speak to her.'

The little seamstress looked hesitatingly at the bright, radiant face of
Gladys, and it was upon her lips to say it might be better to let the
matter rest. But, with her old philosophical reflections that anything
she might say could not possibly avert the march of fate, she held her
peace.

Just after lunch that afternoon, as Gladys was writing some letters in
her favourite window, she saw Liz sitting by herself in the drowsy
sunshine on the lawn, and her face wore such a dejected, melancholy look
that it was evident some hidden sorrow was eating into her heart.
Closing her desk, Gladys ran down-stairs, caught up a garden hat from
the hall, and crossed the green lawn to Liz.

'Dear me, how doleful you look!' she cried gaily. 'How can you look so
dreadfully doleful on such a bright day? Now tell me every simple,
solitary thing you are thinking.'

A swift, rather startled glance crossed Liz's face, and she gave rather
a forced laugh.

'That wadna be easy. I don't think I was thinking onything, except a
meenit syne, when I lookit up an' wished I was that laverock in the
lift.'

'But why? It is much nicer to be a girl, I th