alkative, he keenly observed the two, and saw that they were cast in a
different mould. Liz looked well, flushed with her walk, the dark warm
fur setting off the brilliance of her complexion, her clothes fitting
her with a certain flaunting style, her manner free from the least touch
of embarrassment or restraint. Liz Hepburn feared nothing under the sun.

'And are you quite better, Liz?' asked Gladys gently, with a look of
real interest and sympathy in her face.

'Oh ay, I'm fine. Wat's no' in?' she said, glancing inquiringly round
the place.

'No; he has heard of a teacher who takes evening pupils for book-keeping
and these things, and has gone to make arrangements with him.'

Never had the nicety of her speech and her sweet, refined accent been
more marked by Abel Graham. He looked at her as she stood by the table,
a slender, pale figure, with a strange touch of both child and maiden
about her, and he felt glad that she was not like Liz. Not that he
thought ill of Liz, or did not see her beauty, such as it was, only he
felt that the maiden whom circumstances had cast into his care and
keeping was of a higher type than the red-cheeked, bright-eyed damsel
whom so many admired.

'An' when hae ye been oot, micht I ask?' inquired Liz calmly. 'Ye're a
jimpy-looking thing.'

'Not since Sunday.'

'Sunday! Mercy me! an' this is Friday. She'll sune be in her grave, Mr.
Graham. Folk maun hae fresh air. What way d'ye no' set her oot every
day?'

'She is welcome to go if she likes, miss. I don't keep her in,' answered
the old man tartly.

'Maybe no', but likely she has that muckle adae she canna get,' replied
Liz fearlessly. 'It's a fine nicht--suppose ye tak' a walk wi' me? The
shops is no' shut yet.'

'Shall I go, uncle?' asked Gladys.

'If ye want, certainly; but come in in time of night. Don't be later
than nine.'

'Very well,' answered Gladys, and retired into her own room to make
ready for her walk.

Then Liz, turning round squarely on her seat, fixed the old man
fearlessly with her eyes, and gave him a piece of her mind.

'I saw ye lookin' at her a meenit ago, Maister Graham, an' maybe ye was
thinkin' the same as me, that she's no' lang for this world. Is't no' a
sin an' a shame for a cratur like that to work in a place like this? but
it's waur, if it be true, as folk say, that there's nae need for it.'

So astonished was Abel Graham by this plain speaking on the part of a
girl he had never seen in his