doot--an' noo Liz is waur than we
thocht.'

Gladys stood as if turned to stone. Slowly a dim comprehension seemed to
dawn upon her; and it is no exaggeration to say that it was a shock of
agony.

'Do you mean to say that the poor girl is really bad, that she has
deliberately chosen a wicked life?' she asked in a still, strained
voice.

Teen gravely nodded, and her lips trembled still more.

'And what will be the end of it? What will become of her, Teen?'

'The streets; an' she'll dee in a cellar, or an hospital, maybe, if
she's fortunate enough to get into wan; an' it'll no' be lang either,'
said Teen, in a quite matter-of-fact way, as if it were the merest
commonplace detail. 'She has nae strength; wan winter will finish her.'

Here the composure of the little seamstress gave way, and, dropping her
heavy head on the sunny window-sill, she too wept passionately over the
ruin of the girl she had loved. But Gladys wept no more. Standing there
in the long yellow shaft cast by the sunshine, memory took her back to a
never-to-be-forgotten night, when an old man and a maiden child had
toiled through the streets of Glasgow after midnight, and how the throng
of the streets had bewildered the wondering child, and had made her ask
questions which never till this time had been satisfactorily answered.

'I begin to understand, Teen,' she said slowly, with a shiver, as if a
cold wind had passed over her. 'Life is even sadder than I thought. I
wonder how God can bear to have it so. I cannot bear it even in
thought.'

She went out into the sunny garden, and, casting herself on the soft
green sward, wept her heart out over the new revelation which had come
to her. Never had life seemed so bitter, so mysterious, so unjust. What
matter that she was surrounded by all that was lovely and of good
report, when outside, in the great dark world, such things could be? For
the first time Gladys questioned the goodness of God. Looking up into
the cloudless blue of the summer sky, she wondered that it could smile
so benignly upon a world so cursed by sin. Little Miss Peck, growing
anxious about her, at last came out, and bade her get up and attend to
the concerns of the day waiting for her.

'You know, my dear, we can't stand still though another perverse soul
has chosen the broad road,' she said, trying to speak with a great deal
of worldly wisdom. 'I see it is very hard upon you, because you have
never been brought into contact with s