“He'll miss thee, Little Ann; but so'll the other lads, for that matter.” “He'll know to-night whether Mr. Galton's going to let him keep his work. I do hope he will. I believe he'd begin to get on.” “Well,”--Hutchinson was just a little grudging even at this comparatively lenient moment,--“I believe the chap'll get on myself. He's got pluck and he's sharp. I never saw him make a poor mouth yet.” “Neither did I,” answered Ann. A door leading into Tembarom's hall bedroom opened on to Hutchinson's. They both heard some one inside the room knock at it. Hutchinson turned and listened, jerking his head toward the sound. “There's that poor chap again,” he said. “He's wakened and got restless. What's Tembarom going to do with him, I'd like to know? The money won't last forever.” “Shall I let him in, Father? I dare say he's got restless because Mr. Tembarom's not come in.” “Aye, we'll let him in. He won't have thee long. He can't do no harm so long as I'm here.” Little Ann went to the door and opened it. She spoke quietly. “Do you want to come in here, Mr. Strangeways?” The man came in. He was clean, but still unshaven, and his clothes looked as though he had been lying down. He looked round the room anxiously. “Where has he gone?” he demanded in an overstrung voice. “Where is he?” He caught at Ann's sleeve in a sudden access of nervous fear. “What shall I do if he's gone?” Hutchinson moved toward him. “'Ere, 'ere,” he said, “don't you go catchin' hold of ladies. What do you want?” “I've forgotten his name now. What shall I do if I can't remember?” faltered Strangeways. Little Ann patted his arm comfortingly. “There, there, now! You've not really forgotten it. It's just slipped your memory. You want Mr. Tembarom--Mr. T. Tembarom.” “Oh, thank you, thank you. That's it. Yes, Tembarom. He said T. Tembarom. He said he wouldn't throw me over.” Little Ann led him to a seat and made him sit down. She answered him with quiet decision. “Well, if he said he wouldn't, he won't. Will he, Father?” “No, he won't.” There was rough good nature in Hutchinson's admission. He paused after it to glance at Ann. “You think a lot of that lad, don't you, Ann?” “Yes, I do, Father,” she replied undisturbedly. “He's one you can trust, too. He's up-town at his work,” she explained to Strangeways. “He'll be back before long. He's giving us a bit of a supper in here because we're going away.” Strangeways grew nervous again. “But he won't go with you? T. Tembarom won't go?” “No, no; he's not going. He'll stay here,” she said soothingly. He had evidently not observed the packed and labeled trunks when he came in. He seemed suddenly to see them now, and rose in distress. “Whose are these? You said he wasn't going?” Ann took hold of his arm and led him to the corner. “They are not Mr. Tembarom's trunks,” she explained. “They are father's and mine. Look on the labels. Joseph Hutchinson, Liverpool. Ann Hutchinson, Liverpool.”