'I didna. We only spoke aboot Liz, an' some aboot his ain affairs. Miss Peck saw him maist o' the time. He's gaun to sell his business, and gang awa' to America or Australia.'
'Oh!' exclaimed Gladys sharply. 'Why should he do any such thing, when he is getting on so well?'
'I am sure I dinna ken,' replied Teen quietly, though she knew—ay, as well as Gladys—what it all meant. 'His faither's deid; he de'ed efter a week's illness, jist at the Fair time, an' he's gaun to tak' his mither wi' him. She's bidin' at Colquhoun Street the noo.'
'A great deal seems to have happened since I went away,' said Gladys, with something of an effort. 'Is he going to do this soon?'
'Yes, I think immediately; at least, he cam' doon here to say guid-bye to you. But Miss Peck can tell ye mair nor me; she spoke a long time till him.'
A question was on the lips of Gladys, but she held it back, and again changed the theme.
'And what does he think about poor Lizzie? I suppose he has never gone to Dublin to seek for her?'
'No, I dinna think it.'
'It is all very sad. Don't you think life very sad, Teen?' asked Gladys, with a great wistfulness, which made the eyes of the little seamstress become suddenly dim.
'Ay, it is. Oh, Miss Gladys, excuse me for sayin't, but if ye had seen his face when I telt him ye were maybe to be mairried in September or October, ye wadna dae't.'