and he had gained the unenviable reputation of being a fire-and-tow young fellow, who was flighty enough to make a martyr of himself.
Under the first street-lamp he met Grace, who was evidently making his way home.
"I will go with you," he said, taking his arm.
Once within the walls of the pleasant little room, he found it easy to unbosom himself. He described his interview with his employers, and its termination.
A few months ago, I flattered myself that my prospects were improving," he said; "but now it seems that I must begin again, which is not an easy matter, by the way."
By the time he ended be found his temporary excitement abating somewhat, but still his mood was by no means undisturbed.
It was after they had finished tea and the arm-chairs had been drawn to the fire that Grace himself made a revelation.
"When you met me to-night, I was returning from a visit I had paid to Joan Lowrie."
"At Thwaite's?" said Derrick.
"At Thwaite's. She—the fact is I went on business—she has determined to change her plan of life."
"In what manner?"
"She is to work no more at the mines. I am happy to say that I have been able to find her other employment."
There was an interval of silence, at length broken by Derrick.
"Grace," he said, "can you tell me why she decided upon such a course?"
Grace looked at him with questioning surprise.
"I can tell you what she said to me on the subject," he
