In spite, however, of Leonard's advice, many a delightful blow did Gladys enjoy on the Ballast Bank. The spring winds had not yet lost their wintry touch on the Ayrshire coast. Sweeping in from the sea, they made sport with the golfers on the Links, and taxed their skill to the utmost. The long stretch of grey sand upon which the great green waves rolled in and broke with no gentle murmur, the wide expanse of the still wintry-looking sea, the enchanting pictures to be seen in the clear morning light, where the Arran hills stood out so bold and rugged against the sky, and at sunset, when the tossing waters were sometimes stilled into an exquisite rest, all these were revelations to the girl who had the soul and the eye of an artist, and she drank them in with no ordinary draught of enjoyment. She lived out of doors. Wind and weather could not keep her in the house. When the rain-drops blew fierce and wild in the gale, she would start across the garden, out by the little gate to the beach, and, close by the edge of the angry sea, watch the great waves rolling in to her feet, and as she looked, her eyes grew large and luminous, and she would draw great breaths of delight; the wideness of the sea satisfied her, its wildest moods only breathed into her soul an ineffable calm. In the course of a week the Pollokshields Fordyces also arrived at their Coast residence, and there began to be a quite unprecedented amount of friendly coming and going between the two families. It became evident before long that George Fordyce appeared to find some great attraction at The Anchorage, though in former years he had only presented himself at rare intervals during the months his people were at the sea-side. And those who looked on saw quite well how matters were drifting, and each viewed it in a different light. The most unconscious, of course, was Gladys herself. She knew that everybody was kind to her--George Fordyce, perhaps, specially so. He could be a very gallant squire when he liked. He was master of all the little attentions women love, and in his manner towards Gladys managed to infuse a certain deference, not untouched by tenderness, which she found quite gratifying. She had so long lived a meagre, barren existence that she seemed almost greedy of the lovely and pleasant things of life. She enjoyed wearing her beautiful gowns, living in luxurious rooms, eating dainty food at a well-appointed table. In all that there was nothing unnatural, it was but the inevitable reaction after what she had gone through. She began to understand that life has two sides, one for the rich and one for the poor, and she was glad, with an honest, simple gladness, that she had been permitted to taste the best last. She retained her simple, genuine manner; but her soul had had its first taste of power, and found it surpassing sweet. Beauty and riches had proved themselves valuable in her eyes, and there were times when she looked back upon the old life with a shudder. In the