all,
and her sweet voice sounded through the darkness, 'Good-bye, dear
Walter,' and, putting her white fingers to her lips, she threw a kiss
after him, and ran into the house, all trembling, and when she reached
the drawing-room she dropped upon her knees by a couch and fell to
weeping, though she did not know why she wept.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE WANDERER.

It was half-past ten before Walter alighted from the train at St.
Enoch's Station. It was a fine dry evening, with a sufficient touch of
frost in the air to make walking pleasant. As he made his way out of the
station, and went among the busy crowd, he could not help contrasting
that hurrying tide of life with the silence and the solitude he had
left. The experience of the last few hours seemed like a dream, only he
was left with that aching at the heart--that strong sense of personal
loss which even a brave man sometimes finds it hard to bear manfully.
For till now he had not realised how near and dear a part of his life
was the sweet girl now lost to him for ever. Although it had often
pleased him, in the bitterness of his mood, to say that an inseparable
barrier had arisen between them, he had in his heart of hearts not
believed it, but cherished the secret and strong hope that their
estrangement was but temporary, and that in the end the old days which
in their passing had often been shadowed, but which now to memory looked
wholly bright and beautiful, would receive their crown. And now his
dream was over, and again he felt himself alone in the world--more
terribly alone than he had yet been. He was not a vain man, though he
believed in his own ability, or, looking back, he might have taken no
small comfort from the demeanour of Gladys towards him. He had not been
untouched by it, her womanly tenderness had sunk into his soul; but he
saw in it only the natural outcome of a kind heart, which felt always
keenly the sorrow of others. He believed so absolutely in her singleness
of heart, her honesty of purpose, that he accepted her decision as
final. Since she had plighted her troth to another, it was all over, so
far as Walter himself was concerned. He knew so little of women that it
never occurred to him that sometimes they give such a promise hastily,
accepting what is offered from various motives--very often because what
they most desire is withheld. It must not be thought that in having
accepted George Fordyce, Gladys was intentionally