intment, and she saw that
Bourhill had utterly failed to work the charm on Liz which Teen herself
experienced more and more every day. If she were not altogether blind to
its loveliness, at least it did not touch any deeper feeling than mere
eye pleasure; but more serious and disappointing still was the tone in
which she spoke of Gladys. In her weak and weary state of health, she
had at first appeared touched and grateful for the unceasing kindness
and consideration heaped upon her, but that mood had passed apparently
for ever, and now she appeared rather to chafe under obligations which
Teen felt also, though in a different way, love having made them sweet.
For the first time in her life she felt herself shrinking inwardly from
the friend she had always loved since the days when they had played
together, ragged, unkempt little girls, in the city streets. She looked
at the brilliant beauty of her face. She saw it marred by a certain
hardness of expression, a selfish, discontented look, which can rob the
beauty from the loveliest face, and her heart sank within her, because
she seemed dimly to foresee the end. The little seamstress did not know
the meaning of a lost ideal, the probability is that she had never heard
the word, but she felt all of a sudden, standing there in the May
sunshine, that something had gone out of her life for ever. That very
night she spoke to Gladys, seizing a favourable opportunity, when Liz
had gone to enjoy a gossip with that garrulous person, Mrs. Macintyre,
at the lodge.

'I say, Miss Gladys, hae ye noticed onything aboot Liz this day or twa?'
she queried anxiously.

'Nothing,' replied Gladys blithely, 'except that she looks more and more
like a new creature. Have you noticed anything?'

'Naething very particular; but I am feared that she's wearyin' here, an'
that she wants to get away back to Glesca,' said Teen, with a slight
hesitation, it must be told, since such an insinuation appeared to
savour of the deepest ingratitude.

'Oh, do you think so? I thought she was quite happy. She certainly looks
much brighter and better, and feels so, I hope.'

'Oh yes, she's better; that's the reason, I suppose. She was aye active
an' energetic, Liz,' said Teen, feeling impelled to make some kind of
excuse for her old chum. 'We've been here twa weeks; maybe it's time we
left?'

'Oh, nonsense! What is two weeks? Suppose you stayed here all summer,
what would it be? Nothing at all. But what do you