'No; I have something to do. How soon can you be ready--finished with your work, I mean? Have you anything you can leave ready for Wat's dinner?' 'Why, Uncle Abel?' asked Gladys, in surprise. 'Because I want you to go somewhere with me.' 'You are not going out of this house one foot to-day,' she answered quickly. 'It would be very dangerous.' The old man smiled, slightly amused, but not displeased, by the decision with which she spoke. 'We'll see, if it keeps fine, and the sun comes out. I'm going to-day, whatever the consequences, and you with me. It's been put off too long.' Gladys asked no more questions, but made haste to build up the fire and get him a cup of tea before he rose. 'Put on your warm clothes, and make ready for a journey in the train, Gladys,' he said after breakfast. She looked at him doubtfully, almost wondering if his mind did not wander a little. 'Uncle Abel, what are you thinking of? You never go journeys in trains. It will not be safe for you to go to-day, with such a cold,' she exclaimed. 'I am going, my dear, as I said, and so are you, whatever the consequences, so get ready as fast as you like, so that we may have the best of the day.' 'Is it a far journey?' 'You'll see when you get there,' he replied rather shortly; and Gladys, still wondering much, made haste with her work, and began to dress for this unexpected outing. But she felt uneasy, and, stealing a moment, ran up to Walter, who was busy in the warehouse, and revelling in the unaccustomed luxury of a blazing fire. 'How nice it is, and what a difference a fire can make, to be sure,' she said quickly. 'I say, Walter, such a thing! Uncle Abel is going a journey,--a railway journey, actually,--and I am going with him. Has he said anything to you? Have you any idea what it means?' 'Not I. He's a queer old chap. Not off his head, I hope?' 'Oh no, and he says he is quite well. I don't know what to think. Perhaps I shall understand it when I come back. You will find your dinner in the oven, Walter; and be sure to keep up a good fire all day down-stairs, in case uncle should come back very cold and tired. I am afraid he will, but it is no use saying anything.' Walter leaned his elbows on the soap-boxes, and looked into the girl's face with a curious soberness. 'Something's going to happen, I feel it--something I don't like. I'm oppressed with an awful queer feeling. I hope they're not worse than usual at home.' 'Oh no, you are letting your imagination run away with you,' she said brightly. 'I hope you will have such a busy day you won't have time to think of such things;' and, bidding him good-morning, she ran down again to her uncle.