'I maun say guid-nicht here, Gladys,' she said hurriedly, and her cheeks
were aflame. 'I'm vexed ye didna like the play. I meant it weel. Ye'll
see her hame, Teen?'

'Ay,' answered Teen, and next moment Liz was gone.

Gladys, glancing back, saw her cross the street beside a tall,
broad-shouldered, handsome-looking man, though she could not see his
face.

'That's her bean,' said Teen, with a nod. 'He's a swell; that's what for
she has her best claes on. They're awa' for a walk noo. He was in the
hall, but I didna see him.'

'Is she going to be married to him?' inquired Gladys, with interest.

'She hopes sae; but--but--I wadna like to sweer by it. He's a slippery
customer, an' aye was. I ken a lassie in Dennistoun he carried on as far
as Liz, but I'm no' feared for Liz. She can watch hersel'.'

A strange feeling of weariness and vague terror came over Gladys. Day by
day more of life was revealed to her, and added to her great perplexity.
She did not like the phase with which she had that night made
acquaintance. Conversation did not flourish between them, and they were
glad to part at the corner of the Lane. Gladys ran 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.