He went his way and Medora was about to leave the children and seek Kellock, when an adventure very painful befell her. For old Amos Toft belonged to the tribe of Mr. Pinhey. He was inflamed with indignation at the spectacle of Medora contaminating youth, and departed presently that he might tell Mrs. Life, in the glazing shop, what was happening. Whereupon, Mercy Life, the elder, leapt from her stool at the crib, and much incensed, hastened to her child’s protection. Medora greeted her with a smile, but it vanished before the other’s sharp challenge. They were talking of primroses at the time, for Nelly and Mercy had plucked a great bunch on Sunday and promised to bring some to Medora. They were to come to tea with her when they could. “Here—I’ll thank you to get out of this, Mrs.—whatever you call yourself!” began the angry woman. “What’s the matter with you?” asked Medora, “and who are you to tell me what I’m to do? Where’s your manners?” The other snorted scornfully. “You brazen-faced thing,” she cried. “Yes, a front of brass to come here, or show your face among honest women I should think. But you can’t have it both ways. You can’t be a friend for children and give ’em oranges—give it back, Mercy—and be a scarlet woman both. And I won’t have you talking to my child anyway.” Medora adopted a superior tone. She took the orange from the girl and addressed her. “I’m sorry you’ve got such a fool for a mother, Mercy. And I hope when you grow up, you’ll have more sense than she has.” Then she addressed Mrs. Life. “How little you understand,” she said. “I’m sorry for you being such a narrow-minded creature. I always thought you was one of the sensible sort. And you needn’t fear for your little girl. I was only asking her to come to tea and bring me some primroses.” She marched out, regardless of Mrs. Life’s reply, and went to seek Jordan who was at his vat making big paper. He handled a heavy mould and passed over snow-white sheets to his coucher, who turned them on to the felt with extreme care. Jordan became very nervous at sight of Medora, but she felt quite at ease among the men and none in the vat room quarrelled with her. She congratulated Harold Spry on his engagement and told him that Daisy was a treasure. Then she gave Kellock the orange and watched him. But Medora was only hiding herself. Her heart flamed and her indignation at the recent affront burned fiercely within her. Her sole purpose at that moment was to get level and more than level with Mrs. Life, whose husband worked at the vat next to Jordan’s, and she now turned on him unwisely and addressed him. He was employed with brilliant, orange-coloured pulp and making currency paper. “You tell your wife to be broader-minded, Robert Life,” she said suddenly, and he stared at her.