The Guinea Stamp Part 47

'I'm not going up to-night,' he reiterated. 'Give them my kind regards.

Are you really off?'

'I must, if you won't come.'

He held open the door for her, and as she pa.s.sed out, stole another kiss with all a lover's pa.s.sion, telling himself it might be the last. But it did not make her pulses thrill nor her heart beat more quickly, and she saw him depart without a regret.

'You don't mean to say that is George away?' they cried, when the outer hall door closed, and almost immediately Gladys entered the drawing-room alone.

'Yes, he has gone,' Gladys answered calmly.

'What have you been doing to him to set him off like that?' asked Mina.

'Have you had a quarrel?'

'No,' replied Gladys innocently; 'but I think he is rather cross.'

Mrs. Fordyce shook her finger reprovingly at the girl, and said regretfully,--

'My dear, you are incorrigible. I could almost regret Henrietta Bonnemain's marriage, because she is the only woman in this world who could have managed you.'

[Ill.u.s.tration]

CHAPTER x.x.xVII.

CHUMS.

Never did mother watch more tenderly over a wayward child than the little seamstress over Liz, and though Liz was quite conscious of the espionage she did not resent it. She seemed to have no desire to leave the little house, and when Teen, in the course of that afternoon, offered to go to the house in Maryhill for her clothes, she made no demur, nor did she offer to accompany her.

'If the la.s.sie I'm lodgin' wi' is in, Teen, ye can tell her I'm no'

comin' back. I'm very gled to get quit o' her, onyway,' she said, as Teen b.u.t.toned on her shabby black jacket.

'What's her name? Had ye better no' write a line, for fear she'll no'

gie me the things?'

'Oh, she'll gie ye them withoot ony bother; they wadna bring her abune ten shillin's, onyhoo. An', I say, dinna tell her onything aboot me, mind. She'd think naething o' comin' onywhere efter me.'

'Oh, I'll no' tell. Clashin' was never my sin,' said Teen. 'But her name?--ye havena telt me that yet.'

'Oh, weel, she ca's hersel' Mrs. Gordon, but I dinna believe she's a wife at a'. She's in the ballet at the Olympic the noo.'

'An' what way is she bidin' at Maryhill?'

'Oh, her man's there. She says she's mairret to yin o' the officers, but I've never set een on him.'

'Is she a nice la.s.sie?'

'Oh, weel enough. She's no' mean, onyhoo, but she's gey fast. She was tryin' to get me ta'en on at the Olympic. If she says onything, jist tell her I've changed my mind.'

'An' are ye no' awn onything for the lodgin's?' queried Teen, who had a singular conscientiousness regarding debt, even of a microscopic kind.

'No; I paid up when I had it. I dinna owe her onything.'

Teen was silent as she put her long hat-pin through the heavy ma.s.ses of her hair and pulled her fringe a little lower on her brow; but she thought a great deal. Bit by bit the story was coming out, and she had no difficulty in filling up for herself the melancholy details.

'Noo I'm ready. Ye'll no' slope when I'm oot, Liz?' she said warningly; and Liz laughed a dreary, mirthless laugh.

'I ken when I'm weel aff. I wish to goodness I had come to you when I was sick o' Brigton, instead o' gaun where I gaed.'

Teen stood still in breathless silence, wondering if full revelation was about to be made. When Liz saw this, the old spirit of contrariness entered into her again, and she said crossly,--

'What are ye waitin' on noo?'

'Naething,' replied Teen meekly. 'Weel, I'm aff. I'll be back afore dark. Ye can hae the kettle bilin', an' I'll bring in a sausage or a red herrin' for oor tea.'

It was not without some faint, excited curiosity that Teen found herself at the door of the house of which Liz had given her the address. It was a one-roomed abode, three stairs up a tall tenement, in one of these dreary and uninteresting streets which are only distinguishable from one another by their names. In answer to her knock, a shrill female voice cried, 'Come in,' an invitation which the little seamstress somewhat hesitatingly obeyed. It was now after sundown, and the freshness of the daylight had faded, leaving a kind of semi-twilight in the room, which was of a fair size, and comfortably, though not luxuriously, furnished.

On the end of the fender sat the solitary occupant, in a ragged and dirty old dressing-gown of pink flannel, her feet in dilapidated slippers, and her hair in curl-papers along her forehead. Although she saw that her visitor was quite a stranger to her, she did not offer to rise, but simply raising her pert, faded, but still rather pretty face, said inquiringly,--

'Well?'

'Are you Mrs. Gordon? I've come for Lizzie Hepburn's things. She's no'

comin' back here.'

'Oh, all right. Shut the door, and come in. What's up with her? Gone off with a handsomer man, eh?' queried Mrs. Gordon, as she bit her thread through, and held up a newly-trimmed dress bodice for admiration.

'No; she's gaun into the country the morn,' answered Teen, while the ballet-dancer gave several very knowing nods.

'That's a pity, for her luck's turned. You can tell her she'll be taken on if she likes to turn up at the Olympic to-morrow morning at ten sharp. I arranged it for her on Sat.u.r.day night.'

'She said I was to tell you she had changed her mind aboot the theatre,'

said Teen. 'She's no' weel enough for it, onyhoo. She'll be better in the country.'

'Are you her sister?'

'Oh no, only her chum.'

'Well, I say, perhaps you can tell me something about her. She was as close as the grave, though we've been pals for a while; she'd not tell me a single thing. Why is she out on her own hook? Is there a man in the business?'

'I dinna ken ony mair than you,' said Teen, looking rather uncomfortable over this cross-examination. 'An' if ye'll tell me where her box is, I maun be gaun. I promised no' to be long.'

'It's there, at the end of the bed,' said Mrs. Gordon serenely, jerking her thumb in that direction. 'I see you mean to be close too. Not that it matters a cent to me; I've no earthly interest in her affairs. You can tell her, if you like, that Captain Dent was inquiring affectionately for her this morning. I met him on my way back from rehearsal.'

Teen listened in silence, mentally deciding that she would not tell her any such thing.

'And you can tell her, if you like, that I'll be glad to see her any time before the twenty-third. The Eighty-Fifth are ordered to Ireland, and of course my husband will wish me to go with him.'

A slow smile, in which there was the faintest touch of sarcasm, was in Teen's face as she glanced at the tawdry figure sitting on the fender end.