‘I have not a friend in the world,’ she said to herself, ‘not one! Isaac would n’t even take the trouble to walk a quarter of a mile to see how I was getting on after following his advice. He is only coming on Sunday as a sort of duty, not because he wants to. Well, never mind, I will show him and everyone that I can look after myself. I want nobody’s pretended pity since nobody really cares.’ And she held up her head beneath its heavy veil, and went on her way with a stately carriage and a firm step. CHAPTER V He drow’d Hizzelf about, an’ teäv’d an’ blow’d, Lik’ any uptied calf. * * * An’ mutter’d out sich dreats, an’ wrung His vist up sich a size! WILLIAM BARNES. ON the next morning when the men came slowly sauntering to their work they were surprised to see Mrs. Fiander, clad this time not in homely print but in ceremonious black, standing by her own door, with a severe expression of countenance. She held a note-book in her hand, and as each arrived she jotted down some memorandum therein. When the last straggler had appeared upon the scene, she summoned the entire band before her. ‘Men,’ she said, speaking calmly and very distinctly, ‘since you seem to pay no attention to what I say, I must show you that I am not to be trifled with. I shall fine every one of you this morning for being late. I shall continue to fine you each morning that you are late, and I shall deduct from your pay a certain amount for every hour that you wilfully waste. In fact, for the future your wage shall be in exact proportion to the work you do.’ The men stared, gaped, and looked sullenly first at one another and then at their mistress. ‘Do you understand?’ she inquired sharply. Job Hunt, his red-bearded face even more glowing than usual, answered in surly tones for himself and comrades. ‘Nay, missus, us can’t say as we do!’ ‘Well, then, I’ll make it clear to you,’ rang out the brisk young voice. ‘You are paid for the work you do during certain hours, and if you don’t come here punctually, or if you waste any of those hours, I shall deduct from your weekly wage the value of the lost time—I shan’t pay you, in fact, for work you don’t do!’ ‘Nay, now,’ responded Job, rolling his head from side to side, and assuming a bullying air. ‘I don’t hold wi’ these here reg’lations. Us don’t want no new rules, do us, mates?’ ‘Nay, that we don’t,’ came the answer in a chorus of growls. ‘Whether you want them or not, I mean to keep to them,’ returned Rosalie. ‘That will do; you can all go to work now.’ She turned, and went into the house; her heart was beating very fast, and she was rather white about the lips, but she had borne herself bravely, and no one would have guessed the difficulty she had found in nerving herself to take this stand.