that he was at her mercy. But she loved her liberty. She had tasted such
bliss as married life could offer,--so she thought, and she preferred to
feel free to smile on whom she pleased. She was virtuous, and kind,
after a fashion, but she was fast becoming a coquet,--a flirt. In her
little world she was a queen, and the homage of one did not satisfy her.
Hearts were her playthings,--they amused her, and she liked to be
amused.

One day, during the dinner hour;--she had brought her dinner to the
mill, which was her invariable custom, as the house where she lodged was
a considerable distance from the works;--she was sitting in a retired
corner in an adjoining room, when looking up she saw Dick standing close
by her and regarding her with such a longing, yet troubled look, that
although she laughed, and was about to make some flippant remark, she
checked herself, and made room on the little bench for him to sit.

"Why, Dick," she said, as he took his place beside her, "what's to do?
Has th' boiler brussen, or are we going on strike?"

"Nay, Susy, its summat moor serious nor that. Aw thowt aw should find
thee here. Aw hope tha arn't mad at aw've come."

"What should aw be mad for? Tha's as mich reight to be here as me,--an
if it comes to that aw suppooas we've nawther on us onny business here
an aw think aw'll be gooin."

"Net just yet, Susy;--stop a minnit,--aw've summat to say. Its varry
particlar. Can't ta guess what it is?"

"Aw dooant know unless tha'rt gooin to find fault abaat mi piece, an awm