life, that he could only stare.

'It's true,' added Liz significantly; 'she's yin o' the kind they mak'
angels o', and that's no' my kind nor yours. If I were you, I'd see
aboot it, or it'll be the waur for ye, maybe, after.'

Happily, just then Gladys returned for her boots, and in her mild
excitement over having a companion to walk with, she did not observe the
very curious look on her uncle's face. But Liz did, and gave an inward
chuckle.

'How's your father and mother?' he asked, making the commonplace
question a cover for the start he had got.

'Oh, they're as well as they can expect to be,' Liz replied. 'He cam'
oot on Monday. I spiered if they had gi'en him a return ticket available
for a week.'

The hard little laugh which accompanied these apparently heartless words
did not in the least deceive Gladys, and, looking up from the lacing of
her boots, she flashed a glance of quick sympathy upon the girl's face,
which expressed more than any words.

'They're surely very ill-kinded,' was Abel Graham's comment, in rather a
surprised tone. Liz had given him more information about her people in
five minutes than Walter had done in the two years he had been with him.
The difference between the two was, that while sharing the bitterness of
their home sorrows, the one found a certain relief in telling the worst,
the other shut it in his heart, a grief to be brooded over, till all
life seemed tinged and poisoned by its degradation.

'Oh, it's drink,' she said carelessly,--'the same auld story. Everything
sooms awa' in whisky; they'll soom awa' theirsel's some day wi'd, that's
wan comfort. I'm sure that's wan thing Wat an' me's no' likely to meddle
wi'. We've seen ower muckle o' the misery o' drink. It'll never be my
ruin, onyway. Are ye ready, Gladys?'

'In a minute, just my hat and gloves,' Gladys answered, and again
retired.

'I say, sir, d'ye no' think ye should raise Wat's wages? I had twa
things to say to ye the nicht, an' I've said them. Ye needna fash to
flyte; I'm no' feared. If ye are a rich man, as they say, ye're waur
than oor auld yin, for he haunds oot the siller as lang as it lasts.'

'You are a very impudent young woman,' said Abel Graham, 'and not a fit
companion for my niece. I can't let her go out with you.'

'Oh, she's gaun the nicht, whether you let her or no',' was the calm
answer. 'And as to being impident, some folk ca's the truth impidence,
because they're no' accustomed to it. But aboot