'As well as they deserve to be. They wanted to come here and live. Had they been decent and respectable, it wouldn't have been a bad arrangement. As they are, I simply wouldn't have it; I'd never get on. Of course they cast my pride in my teeth, but God knows I have little enough to be proud of.'
His mood cast its dark spell over the girl's sensitive heart, and she turned to go.
'It is all so different,' she said in a low voice, 'but the difference is not in me. Shall we never meet now, Walter?'
'It will be better not. If I ever succeed, and I have sworn to do it, we may then meet on more equal ground,' he said steadily, and not a sign of the unutterable longing in his heart betrayed itself in his set face. His pride was as cruel as the grave.
'Till then it is good-bye, then, I suppose?' she said quietly.
'Yes, till then; the day will come, or I shall know the reason why.'
'But it may be too late then, Walter, for us both.'
With these words, destined to ring their warning changes in his ears for many days, she left him, without touch of the hand or other farewell.
'Well, dear,' said Clara, with a slightly quizzical smile, 'has it made you happier to revive the ghosts of the past?'
'No; you were right, and I wrong,' said Gladys, as she sank into the cushioned seat. 'It was a great mistake.'