Cleg jumped up with a shout and a wave of his bonnet, which brought the trim servant to the back of the door in consternation. "I kenned ye wadna turn them awa'—I kenned it, man!" he cried. Then Cleg realised where he was, and his enthusiasm subsided as suddenly as it rose. "I shouldna behave like this on a carpet," he said, looking apologetically at the dusty pads his bare feet had left on the good Kidderminster. He was on the eve of departing when the builder called him back. He had been turning things over in his mind. "I hae anither wood-yard doon by Echo Bank," he said. "There's a cubby-hole there you could bide in, gin ye had a blanket." "That's nocht," answered Cleg, "in this weather. And thank ye kindly. I can do brawly withoot a blanket." And he sped out as he came, without troubling the maid, who was wearying for her master to be done with his dinner and take himself away to his office. The good news was conveyed directly to Vara, and then she set Cleg's hut in order with a quieter heart. Cleg showed them where to get water, and it was not long before the bairns were established in a safety and comfort they had been strangers to all their lives. But Cleg was not done with his day's work for the Kavannahs. He went down to the Hillside Works and saw the watchman, after he had delivered his tale of evening papers. "D'ye think," he said diplomatically, "that there's ony chance for a lassie to get wark here?" The watchman shook his head. "There's nae room for ony but the relations o' them that's workin' here already." The watchman could be as diplomatic as Cleg. He had daughters of his own growing up, and, though he was willing to be a friend to Cleg, it was against his principles to encourage the introduction into "our works" of alien blood. There was a tradition at Hillside that every old servant got his daughters "in" as a matter of course. Indeed, matrimonial alliances were often arranged on that basis, and the blessing of children was looked upon as equivalent to the supreme blessing of money in the bank. "But I dare say ye micht see Maister Donald," said the watchman, relenting. He remembered that he had no daughters that could be ready for a few years yet; and besides, Cleg was a good friend of his. "But what ken ye aboot lassies? My sang, but ye are early begun, my lad. Ye'll rue it some day." Cleg smiled, but disdained an answer. He was not argie-bargiein' at present, as he would have said. He was waiting to get a job for Vara Kavannah. In another minute he found himself in the presence of Mr. Donald Iverach, junior partner in the firm of Iverach & Company, whose position in the paper trade and special eminence in the production of the higher grades of foreign correspondence were acknowledged even by rivals—as the senior partner wrote when he was preparing the advertisement for the firm's yearly almanack.