There was a moment's halt and then Haworth made his reply as forcibly as ever.
"Radical be hanged," he said. "He's got work o' his own to attend to. He's one of the kind as leaves th' radicals alone. He's a straightforward chap that cares more for his books than aught else. I won't say," a trifle grudgingly, "that he's not a bit too straight in some things."
There was a halt again here which Ffrench rather wondered at; then Haworth spoke again, bluntly and yet lagging a little.
"I—I saw her, Miss Ffrench, myself yesterday. I was walking down the street when her carriage passed."
Ffrench looked at him with an inward start. It was his turn to flush now.
"I think," he said, "that she mentioned it to me."
He appeared a trifle pre-occupied for some minutes afterward, and when he roused himself laughed and spoke nervously. The color did not die out of his face during the remainder of his visit; even after he had made the tour of the Works and looked at the machinery and given a good deal of information concerning the manner in which things were done on the Continent, it was still there and perhaps it deepened slightly as he spoke his parting words.
"Then," he said, "I—we shall have the pleasure of seeing you at dinner to-morrow evening?"
"Yes," Haworth answered, "I'll be there."
