'Do you mean the boiler one?' I asked.

[Illustration: 'Do you mean the boiler one?' I asked.]

''Im wot belongs to the Amalgamated Serciety of Boilermakers,' she
corrected with dignity. 'Well, they've moved 'is 'eadquarters from
London to Manchester.'

There was a tense silence, broken only by Elizabeth's hard breathing on
a brass paper-weight ere she polished it with her sleeve.

'If 'e goes to Manchester, there I goes,' she went on; 'I suppose I'd
quite easy get a situation there?'

'Quite easy,' I acquiesced in a hollow voice.

She went out leaving me chill and dejected. Not that I thought for a
moment that I was in imminent danger of losing her. I knew full well
that this was but a ruse on the part of the young man to disembarrass
himself of Elizabeth, and, if he had involved the entire Amalgamated
Society of Boilermakers in the plot, that only proved how desperate he
was.

I have very earnest reasons for wishing that Elizabeth could have a
'settled' young man. You see, as I have previously explained, she
never retains the same one for many weeks at a time. It isn't her
fault, poor girl. She would be as true as steel if she had a chance;
she would cling to any one of them through thick and thin, following
him to the ends of the earth if necessary.