She turned upon him indignantly. "I am not flirting! That gentleman is a friend of mine." Kemble sneered. "Oh, he is a friend, is he? Where does a factory girl like you meet men who ride in automobiles?" Elsie flushed scarlet; she bit her quivering lips. "Ashamed to tell where you met him, are you?" "What do you mean?" "I mean I'm responsible to my employers for the character of the girls I employ here." Elsie looked her contempt of him. She laughed a little low scornful laugh which made Kemble thoroughly angry. "Look here, my girl," he said. "You don't know when you're well off. You are too independent." His tone of anger roused her temper, but she held herself in leash and answered with cold politeness: "Mr. Kemble, when I feel myself getting independent, the first thing I shall do will be to get away from the Millville button factory." Kemble was ready to retreat now. The interview was getting beyond his expectation. Elsie was one of the company's fastest workers. He could not afford to have her throw up her place. He did not want to lose her. "Oh, but you like the factory, Miss Welcome," he said in a suddenly pacific tone. "Like--the--factory! I hate it," returned the girl, all her pent-up wrongs finding expression. "I hate the mill and everything about it. Do you suppose any girl could like the prospect of being bottled up in this hole year after year for eight dollars a week? Why, some day, Mr. Kemble, I expect to pay eight dollars for a hat, for just one hat." "So that's it," said Kemble, "fine feathers, eh? I know, you're like a lot of other girls who have come and gone in this factory. You've heard of Chicago's bright lights and you want to singe your wings in them. Let me tell you something, my girl, girls in your position don't get eight dollar hats without paying for them and if they haven't got the money they give something else. They give--" "Stop," ordered the girl. "You shan't say that to me. I don't believe it. You can't convince me that there isn't something better in life for a girl like me than Millville and eight dollars a week." "I pity your ignorance," said Kemble, loftily. "It's not ignorance to want something better than this," replied Elsie. "Why should you taunt me with ignorance, anyway? What do you know about the world? You're just a foreman in a little country mill and because you are satisfied with a narrow little life like that you think everyone else ought to be." The truth in this goaded Kemble into violation of rule number twelve for button factory foremen which exhorts such employes to be polite to women workers. "Why the devil don't you go to Chicago and be done with it then?" he demanded. "You're one of these people that has to learn by experience." He sneered at her. "Perhaps you can get your friend in the auto to take you. Why don't you try it?" Tears rushed to the girl's eyes. She began fastening on her hat to conceal her emotion.