give them
cause for alarm. She was certainly graver, preoccupied, and rather sad;
but, again, her natural gaiety would over-flow more spontaneously than
it had done for long, thus showing that pride and womanly feeling had
been wounded; the heart was perfectly whole.

She lived out of doors during the splendid September weather, taking an
abounding interest in all the harvest-work, finding comfort and healing
in simple things and homely pleasures, and feeling that never while she
lived did she wish to set foot in Glasgow again. There was only one tie
to bind her to it--one spot beneath its heavy sky dear to her; how much
and how often her thoughts were concentrated upon that lowly place none
knew save herself.

Since that melancholy morning in the ward of the Royal Infirmary she had
not heard of or seen Walter, but she knew in her inmost heart that she
should see him, and waited for it with a strange restfulness of heart,
therefore it was no surprise to her when he came one sunny evening up
the avenue to the house. She saw him coming, and ran out to meet
him--something in the old childish fashion--with a look of eager welcome
on her face. His dark face flushed at her coming, and he gave his head a
swift turn away, and swallowed something in his throat. When they met he
was grave, courteous, but a trifle distant; she was quick to note the
change.

'I knew you would come to see me again, Walter,' she said, as they shook
hands with the undemonstrative cordiality of tried friends. 'I am very
glad to see you.'

'Are you? Yet it was a toss-up with me whether I should come or not,' he
said, looking at the graceful figure, and noticing with some wonder that
she was all in black, relieved only by the silver belt confining her
silk blouse at the waist; 'but I thought I had better come and say
good-bye.'

'Good-bye! Are you going away, then, somewhere?' she asked in a quiet,
still voice, which betrayed nothing.

'Yes; I have taken my passage to Australia for the fourteenth of
October, sailing from London. I leave on Monday, however, for I have
some things to see to in London.'

'On Monday? And does your mother accompany you?'

'No; she is too old for such an undertaking. I have arranged for her to
board with a family in the country. She has been there some weeks now,
ever since I sold off, and likes it very much. It is better for me to go
alone.'

'I suppose so. Are you tired with your walk, Walter, or can you go on a