room. This one would not only make a special knot, but would cut and finish.
"It is a delicate instrument, and wants great care in the working," said Kinvig. In that regard the net-maker considered himself fortunate, for he had just hit on a wonderfully smart young woman who could work it as well, Kinvig verily believed, as he could work it himself.
"Who is she?" said Christian.
"A stranger in these parts—came from the south somewhere—Castletown way," said Kinvig; and he added with a grin, "Haven't you heard of her?"
Christian gave no direct reply, but displayed the profoundest curiosity as to this latest development in net-making ingenuity. He was forthwith carried off to inspect Kinvig's first treasure in looms.
The two men stepped into a little room apart, and there, working at the only loom that the room contained, was little Ruby's sister, Mona Cregeen. The young woman was putting her foot on one of the lower treadles when they entered. She made a slight but perceptible start, and the lever went up with a bang.
"Tut, my girl, how's this?" said Kinvig. "See—you've let that line of meshes off the hooks."
The girl stopped, replaced the threads one after one with nervous fingers, and then proceeded with her work in silence.
Kinvig was beginning an elaborate engineering disquisition for Christian's benefit—Christian's head certainly did hang rather too low for Kinvig's satisfaction—when a girl comes in from the outer factory to say that a man at the gate would like to see the master.
