“My name is Elshaw, miss. Bram Elshaw,” he answered, as he sat back on his heels and hunted again in the biscuit tin. “And I’ve seen you. I saw you t’ other day, last Tuesday, at Mr. Cornthwaite’s works. It was me showed you round, miss.” “Oh!” The bright little face of the girl was clouded with bewilderment. “And then again Ah saw you to-neght up to Mr. Cornthwaite’s house, up at t’ Park. And he told me for to see you home, miss.” “Oh!” This time the exclamation was one of confusion, annoyance, almost of horror. “I remember! He said--he said--he would send some one to see me home. But--er--er--I was in such a hurry--that--that I forgot. And I ran off by myself. And--and so you followed; you must have followed me!” And Claire’s pretty face grew red as fire. The truth was she had been angry with Mr. Cornthwaite for the manner of his reception, for the dry remarks he had made about her father, and for his manifest and most ungracious unwillingness to allow Christian to see her home. And she had made up her mind that no “respectable young man” of Mr. Cornthwaite’s choosing should accompany her if Chris might not. And so, dashing off through the park in the dusk by a short cut, she had thought to escape the ignominy which Mr. Cornthwaite had designed for her. Bram, with a long, rusty nail between his teeth, grew redder than she. In an instant he understood what he had not understood before, that the young lady had taken the offer of his escort as a humiliation. She had wanted to go back with Christian, and Mr. Cornthwaite had wished to put her off with one of his workmen! Bram felt that her indignation was just, although he was scarcely stoical enough not to feel a pang. “You see, miss,” he said apologetically, taking the nail out of his mouth, “Ah was bound to come this weay, and so Ah couldn’t help but follow you. And--and when Ah heard you call aht--why Ah couldn’t help but get in. Ah’m reght sorry if Ah seemed to be taking a liberty, miss.” Again Claire was struck as she had been that day at the works by the innate superiority of the man to his social position, of his tone to his accent.