"Did you, though?" chuckled Joe. "Why, lor' a mercy, Missus, what's the good o' being so proud? Flesh and blood's flesh and blood all the world over." "I talked to him earnestly upon the point," said Mrs Glaire, not heeding the interruption. "Theer, theer," said Joe, smiling. "What good was it? why did you do it?" "And my son saw the force of my remarks, and gave me his promise that he would see Daisy no more." "Ah, he did, did he?" chuckled Joe. "He promised you that?" "Yes," said Mrs Glaire, angrily; "and he has broken his promise." "Of course he has," said Joe, chuckling. "You might ha' known it. When a young couple like them comes together, it's no use for the old uns to try and stop it. They'll manage it somehow. They're sure to be too many for you." "Joe Banks, you put me out of patience," cried Mrs Glaire, angrily. "Can you not see how important this matter is?" "Important? Of course I do," said Joe, quietly, "a very important step for both of 'em." "Listen!" cried Mrs Glaire; "things are coming to a crisis, and for your sake they must be stopped." "Strikes me," said Joe, bluntly, "that you're thinking a vast more of yourself, Missus Glaire, than of me." "I'm thinking of the future of my son and of your daughter, Mr Banks," said Mrs Glaire. "So am I," said Joe, quietly; "but you're so proud." "I tell you, man, that I met them this evening together in the wood," cried Mrs Glaire. "My son, with Daisy, your child, in his arms." "Ah, you did, did you, Missus?" said Joe, chuckling. "He was kissing of her, I suppose." "Yes," exclaimed Mrs Glaire, indignantly. "Well, I thought as much," said Joe, quietly. "The lass had got a rare red face when I met her as she come in." "Do you hear what I say?" cried Mrs Glaire angrily. "I say I saw them to-night in the wood, after he had promised me to give her up." "Oh, yes," said Joe, in a calm, unruffled way, "I heard you say so, and if you'd been in the wood every day for the past month, I'd bet you'd ha' sin 'em. They're often theer." "Joe Banks!" cried Mrs Glaire, half rising from her chair. "Theer, theer, Missus, what's the good o' making a fuss, and being so proud? I've give my Daisy a good eddication, and she's quite a scholard. She can write as pretty a letter as any one need wish to see, and keeps accounts beautiful." "Joe Banks, you are blind," cried Mrs Glaire, passionately. "I want to save your child from shame, and you--" "Howd hard theer--howd hard theer, Missus," cried Joe, rising; and his rugged face flushed up. "I respect you, Missus Glaire, like a man, and I don't wonder as it touches your pride a bit, but I won't sit here and hear you talk like that theer. My Daisy's as good and honest a girl as ever stepped, and I'd troost her anywheers; while, as to your son, he's arbitrary, but you've browt him up as a gentleman, and do you think I'm going to believe he means harm by my darling? No, no, I know better." "But, you foolish man--"