"That's what I'm going to do this very night. Nay, more. Four hundred pound's a meaningless sound to most folk, and how much more to one who probably never fingered a golden coin of her own in all her life. I've been down to the bank and drawn Miriam's fortune. They wanted me to have it in notes; but I'd none of their notes. 'Give it me in gold,' I insisted, 'all in gold.' And I carried it to Pole Moor, and a rare weight it was. And it shall be heaped before her eyes, and she shall see the yellow glisten of it, and hear the rich chink of it, and handle, and, if she likes, fondle it, as they say misers do, that she may realise that it is a real thing and all her own, and that if she list she may shake the dust of Pole Moor from her feet and go out into the wide world with power to pick and choose." Amen, and Amen, said I very heartily, for did I not know my Miriam? And then we heard the sound of merry chatter and girlish laughter outside the door, and the deep bass of a voice I knew to be Jim's, and the clatter of clog toes kicked against the step. "They're back sooner than I expected," said my father, "but it's as well. We'll get this job through to-night. That will be your friend James Haigh. It wonderful how set he seems to be on you. He's been unremitting in his inquiries anent your health. It passes me when that young man sleeps. He's been here up to all hours of the night, and then had to walk through snow and slush the weary, lonesome way over Stanedge to his home." Miriam and Ruth came into the room, their eyes bright, their cheeks glowing from the keen air and the healthful exercise. Jim followed somewhat sheepishly in their rear, carrying a big market basket full of groceries. He saluted my father respectfully then grasped my hand, now somewhat worn and white, in his big, horny fist. "Well, Abe, lad, how'st ta feelin' nah? Tha mun be comin' to thi corn again, judgin' bi th' layin'-in o' provender thi sister's done to-neet. Aw just happened to be dahn i' Slowit when they wer' goin' into th' shop, so aw in after 'em to buy a bit o' baccy. By gosh, lad--gosh is noan swearin' aw hope, Mr. Holmes, aw mun say summat, an' aw think nother 'gosh' nor 'golly' 'll do onny harm--by gosh, lad, aw'm thinkin' it's consumptive tha art, th' way they feed thee. Aw nobbut wish someb'dy stick a knife into me an' lig me dahn on Pole Moor doorsteps. Golly, aw do sweat, it's aboon a joke huggin' a load like that fro' th' bottom to th' sky-line." "Why, Jim," cried Miriam, "you swore it was only a featherweight, and nothing would serve but that you must help Ruth up the hill on your arm." Jim's face went brick-red. "It's only when aw come to put it dahn aw felt it," he stammered.