“It was father’s idea,” she said with a coldness equal to Nancy’s own, as she rose and moved towards the door. “Maybe he hadn’t just thought how it ’ud concern you; but by all accounts Mr. Briggs turns trade enough away to keep one pair o’ hands busy. You know father well enough, Nancy, to be sure he’ll do naught to hurt you, and I’m sorry if you take it amiss. If you were Jagger’s sister you’d be tired o’ seeing him eat dirt to keep in with a master ’at holds him down. _I’d_ have chucked it long since, if it had been me.” “Jagger’s a right to please himself, and I’m not disputing it,” said Nancy haughtily; “but if there’s to be two firms in the village you can’t expect me to be any friend to the second.” Jagger had found his tongue by now and he followed the girl to the door and stood with her in the opening, uttering vehement protests to which Hannah closed her ears and Nancy listened reluctantly. “You’d best think it over,” she said in tones that had lost nothing of their iciness as she turned away. “I’ll say naught about it at home, Jagger, in the hope that you’ll change your mind.” She walked away rapidly; but hearing footsteps quicken behind her thought Jagger was following and wheeled round with an impatient dismissal on her lips. It was some other, however, who hurried up—a stranger obviously, for a bowler hat was silhouetted against the sky and gear of that kind was never seen on the heads of the male fraternity of Mawm except on Sundays. Although a glance was all she gave him when she perceived her mistake there was something that seemed familiar in the man’s outline, and for a second or two she puzzled over it and wondered why she was followed; but though she went on her way more quickly she was not afraid. “You walk fast, Miss Clegg!” The voice was low and carried a laugh in its tones and Nancy started and stood still. “Who are you?” she inquired; but the revelation came to her as the moonlight fell upon his face, and her heart beat more quickly than exertion could account for; yet her subdued exclamation—“If it isn’t Mr. Inman!” was coloured by annoyance rather than pleasure. “James Inman, at your service,” he replied, raising his hat with a courtesy that was deliberately theatrical. “I believe I told you when you doubted my word, that I should find ways and means to see you again; and here I am.” Nancy tossed her head—a trick she had not needed to learn in the town, and answered him sharply. “If you’ve followed me here because you think that I’m likely to take any interest in you, Mr. Inman, the sooner you’re undeceived the better for us both. And if it’s you that’s got a job at our shop let me tell you straight that it goes against you, and I’ve only to let Mr. Briggs know what you’re after for you to be sent about your business.”