"Here tak' it," she said, "tak' it. It's welly burned a hoil i' mi pocket. Dunnot let me han'le it again or aw'll nooan answer for missen. It's gowd, man, gowd, aw tell yo' an' there's figgerin on it i' some mak o' stones at glitter an' dazzle till yo'd think the varry devil wer' winkin' at yo', an whisperin' i' yo'r lug to keep it quiet an' say nowt to nobody." She placed a trinket in the schoolmaster's hand and heaved a sigh of relief. It was a locket of gold, heart-shaped. On the one side was worked, in small diamonds, a true-lovers' knot, on the reverse, in pearls, a monogram. A.J. The like neither dominie nor nurse had ever gazed upon before, save, perhaps, through the tantalizing barrier of a jeweller's window in Huddersfield or Manchester, and, it is safe to say, never before had either held in hand article of so much value. "Yo' know aw helped to put her to bed," whispered Molly, with a motion of head towards the best bedroom, "an' aw undressed her, an' when th' missis wer' airin' a neet-gown for th' poor thing aw' spied that teed round her neck wi' a bit o' velvet. So aw' snipped it off, for aw seed weel enough oo'd nivver want it again. Aw'd meant to keep it till aw could mak it i' my way to go daan to Huddersfilt; but aw stood at th' bottom o' th' stairs when yo' wer prayin' yesterday, an' oh, Mr. Black, it wor' a tussle, but aw couldna keep it, aw couldna keep it after that." Mr. Black was much moved. He took Molly's hand in his and bowed over it. "You are a good woman Molly, and One who seeth in secret will reward you openly." "Dunnot tell th' misses," urged Molly, flushing even through the tan of her hard face at a tribute seldom paid to her. "Oo'll mebbe think aw sud ha' gien it to her; an' though aw've no patience wi' her airs an' her greetin' (crying) an' settin her cap at's aboon her, thof poor they may be, but still oo's reet at t'core, an awd be sorry to fa' out wi' her." Mr. Black nodded, and carefully placed the locket in the pocket of his vest. "I must think over this. I don't like secrets; but you shall go harmless. This trinket, valuable as it doubtless is of itself, may be more precious still as a clue to that poor child's parentage and I must take counsel with Mr Redfearn." Molly shook her head in emphatic dissent. "You wrong Fairbanks, indeed you do, Molly." "Ah, yo' ken, yo' ken," said Molly, brokenly, "who but Fairbanks ruined my young life?" "And hath he not repented and would have made amends? As you stand in need of forgiveness, Molly, learn to forgive. 'Tis a lesson we all must learn."