n up to the house,
feeling almost as if somebody pursued her, and she was out of breath
when she reached the door. Walter had returned from his first evening
lesson, and great had been his disappointment to find Gladys out. He was
quick to note, when she entered the kitchen, certain signs of nervous
excitement, which made him wonder where she had been.

'It's nearly half-past nine,' said the old man crossly; 'too late for
you to be in the streets. Get to bed now, and be up to work in the
morning.'

'Yes, uncle,' said Gladys meekly, and retired to her own room
thankfully, to lay off her bonnet and cloak.

Walter hung about by the dying fire after the old man went up to take
his nightly survey of the premises, and at last Gladys came back.

'Did you have a good lesson, Walter?' she asked, with a slight smile.

'Oh, splendid. What a thing it is to learn! I feel as if I could do
anything now I have begun,' he cried enthusiastically. 'Mr. Robertson
was so kind. He will give me Euclid as well for the same money. He says
he sees I am in earnest. Life is a fine thing after all, sometimes.'

'Yes.' Gladys looked upon his face, flushed with the fine enthusiasm of
youth, with a slight feeling of envy. She felt very old and tired and
sad.

'And you've been out with Liz?' he said then, seeing that for some
unexplained reason she was not so interested as usual in his pursuits.
'Where did she take you?'

'To a music hall--not a nice place, Walter,' said Gladys almost
shamefacedly.

His colour, the flush of quick anger, leaped in his cheek.

'A music hall! I should just say it isn't a nice place. How dared she? I
see Liz needs me to talk to her plainly, and I will next time I see
her,' he began hotly; but just then the old man returned, and they kept
silence. But the evening's 'ploy' disturbed them both all night, though
in a different way.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IX.

AN IMPENDING CHANGE.

It was an uneventful year. Spring succeeded the fogs and frosts of
winter, sunny skies and warmer airs came again, bringing comfort to
those who could buy artificial heat, so making gladness in cities, and a
wonder of loveliness in country places, where Nature reigns supreme. The
hardy flowers Gladys planted in the little yard grew and blossomed; the
solitary tree, in spite of its loneliness, put forth its fresh green
buds, and made itself a thing of beauty in the maiden's eyes. In that
lonely home the tide of life flowed