He appeared at the Works the following morning, awakening thereby some interest among the shrewder spirits who knew him of old.
"What's he up to now?" they said to each other. "He's getten some crank i' his yed or he would na be here."
Not being at any time specially shrewd in the study of human nature, it must be confessed that Mr. Ffrench was not prepared for the reception he met with in the owner's room. In his previous rare interviews with Jem Haworth he had been accorded but slight respect. His advances had been met in a manner savoring of rough contempt, his ephemeral hobbies disposed of with the amiable candor of the practical and not too polished mind; he knew he had been jeered at openly at times, and now the man who had regarded him lightly and as if he felt that he held the upper hand, received him almost with a confused, self-conscious air. He even flushed when he got up and awkwardly shook hands. "Perhaps," said his visitor to himself, "events have taught him to feel the lack in himself after all."
"I looked forward, before my return, to calling upon you," he said aloud. "And I am glad to have the opportunity at last."
Haworth reseated himself after giving him a chair, and answered with a nod and a somewhat incoherent welcome.
Ffrench settled himself with an agreeable consciousness of being less at a loss before the man than he had ever been in his life.
"What I have seen abroad," he said, "has added to the interest I have always felt in our own manufactures. You know that is a thing I have always cared for most. Peo-
