pensed with ceremony as to walk np to the firelight without even knocking at the door, which stood open.
"Where's your father?" he demanded.
"He's takken hissen off to th' beer-house," said Janey, "as he allus does o' Saturday neet,—an' ivvery other neet too, as he gets th' chance."
A chair stood near and Haworth took it.
I'll sit down and wait for him," he replied.
"Tha'lt ha' to wait a good bit then," said Miss Briarley. "He'll noan be whoam till midneet."
She stood in no awe of her visitor. She had heard him discussed too freely and too often. Of late years she had not unfrequently assisted in the discussions herself. She was familiar with his sins and short-comings and regarded him with due severity.
"He'll noan be whoam till midneet," she repeated as she seated herself on her stool.
But Haworth did not move. He was in a mysterious humor, it was plain. In a minute more his young companion began to stare at him with open eyes. She saw something in his face which bewildered her.
"He's getten more than's good fur him," she was about to decide shrewdly, when he leaned forward and touched her with the handle of the whip he held.
"You're a sharp little lass, I warrant," he said.
Janey regarded him with some impatience. He was flushed and somewhat disheveled and spoke awkwardly.
"You're a sharp little lass, I'll warrant," he said again.
"I ha' to be," she responded, tartly. "Tha'd be sharp thysen if tha had as mich to look after as I ha'."
"I dare say," he answered. "I dare say." Then added even more awkwardly still, " I've heard Murdoch say you were—Murdoch."
