"Well," continued Jabez, "you mustn't visit the house any more. I won't have it. If you don't respect yourself, you must respect me. You must drop these Garsides and Pinder too. By the bye, come to think of it, Wimpenny told me something about you seeming to be very familiar with Pinder at the Whitsuntide gathering. I didn't take much notice of it at the time. But be good enough to ignore him next time you chance to meet him." "I'm sure I'm much obliged to Mr. Wimpenny for his interest in my movements," said Dorothy. "Are you acting on his advice, uncle? Did he charge you 'six--an'-eight' for it? He must be very smart, for I'm sure it isn't worth half the money." "This is no laughing matter miss, I'd have you know, I tell you, you must drop these Garsides, and that young puppy too." "Who? Mr. Wimpenny?" "D----n Mr. Wimpenny," roared Jabez. "You know my meaning very well. See to it that you heed it. People will be saying next that you are running after the jackanapes." Dorothy blushed scarlet. There was an angry gleam in her eye. She drew herself up proudly. "I am a Tinker, sir, no less than you. I was left to choose my friends when I was young and needed, perhaps, a guide. I call Lucy Garside my friend, and so long as Lucy Garside deems me hers, be sure I shall not do as you command. As for Mr. Pinder----" "Your precious Pinder," snarled Jabez. "You had better go to him and learn from him how your brother's daughter and your niece should be addressed." Dorothy swept out of the room. Oh! Jabez! Jabez! How little you know the heart of woman. It is safe to say that from that hour Dorothy never thought of the unconscious Tom without resentment against her uncle, and a feeling that certainly was not resentment for Tom. Mr. Tinker felt in anything but a Christian spirit when his niece so defiantly left the room, and he knit his brow in angry meditation. "Am I never to be done with that Tom Pinder?" ran his thoughts. "I pick him up out of the workhouse; he knocks my overseer head over heels; he refuses the handsomest offer I ever made to anyone in my life; starts in business on his own account, and now, forsooth, has the audacity to try conclusions with me at the polling-booth. I've a good mind to let him have a walk-over. There'll be no credit in beating him--that I'm sure to do but if by any chance he should head the poll--but that's not to be thought of. I'll give the cub something else to think of besides canvassing, or my name's not Jabez Tinker. If a man will play at bowls he must expect rubbers." And as a result of his deliberations the manufacturer once more found himself in the office of Mr. Nehemiah Wimpenny. "Come to sign your will, Mr. Tinker? It's been ready for you this--I don't know how long. I thought you'd forgotten all about it, and yet you seemed in a precious hurry about it when you gave me the instructions."