the street, and their shouts were muffled before they reached Liza's
ears.

She sat, leaning her head on her hands, breathing in the fresh air and
feeling a certain exquisite sense of peacefulness which she was not
used to. It was Saturday evening, and she thankfully remembered that
there would be no factory on the morrow; she was glad to rest.
Somehow she felt a little tired, perhaps it was through the excitement
of the afternoon, and she enjoyed the quietness of the evening. It
seemed so tranquil and still; the silence filled her with a strange
delight, she felt as if she could sit there all through the night
looking out into the cool, dark street, and up heavenwards at the
stars. She was very happy, but yet at the same time experienced a
strange new sensation of melancholy, and she almost wished to cry.

Suddenly a dark form stepped in front of the open window. She gave a
little shriek.

''Oo's thet?' she asked, for it was quite dark, and she did not
recognize the man standing in front of her.

'Me, Liza,' was the answer.

'Tom?'

'Yus!'

It was a young man with light yellow hair and a little fair moustache,
which made him appear almost boyish; he was light-complexioned and
blue-eyed, and had a frank and pleasant look mingled with a curious