to carry in thy brain and hands the living of nearly a thousand human beings. If ta isn't proud o' that, for goodness' sake don't be a fool about a show o' feathers and diamonds."
"Happen thou art in t' right, Ben."
He laid the pliers aside, and went out of the office with the overseer. Somehow the thought of Sarah Benson came with an irresistible force to him, and as Ben went down to the engine-room he ascended to the upper weaving-shed. He had not seen Sarah for many days, and he had not spoken to her since that hour in which he had met her in the dark, rainy midnight nearly four months previously. It was his custom to visit several of the looms before he went near Sarah's, sometimes even to pass hers by with only a casual glance, and there were several girls whose work he admired or criticised with far greater freedom. Conscience did not make him cowardly, for he had not a thought but what was bred of honor and love, but it did make him self-conscious, and even a little nervous.
But this day, when he came to Sarah's loom, he could not pass it. There had been something in his eager, longing gaze which had com-
