ooking up and
fixing her large eyes full upon him.

"If I was a lady," she said, "happen I should know what to say to yo';
but bein' what I am, I dunnot. Happen as yo're a gentleman yo' know what
I'd loike to say an' canna--happen yo' do."

Even as she spoke, the instinct of defiance in her nature struggled
against that of gratitude; but the finer instinct conquered.

"We will not speak of thanks," he said. "I may need help some day, and
come to you for it."

"If yo' ivver need help at th' pit will yo' come to me?" she demanded.
"I've seen th' toime as I could ha' gi'en help to th' Mesters ef I'd had
th' moind. If yo'll promise _that_----"

"I will promise it," he answered her.

"An' I'll promise to gi' it yo'," eagerly. "So that's settled. Now I'll
go my ways. Good neet to yo'."

"Good night," he returned, and uncovering with as grave a courtesy as he
might have shown to the finest lady in the land, or to his own mother or
sister, he stood at the road-side and watched her until she was out of
sight.

CHAPTER II. - "Liz"

"Th' owd lad's been at his tricks again," was the rough comment made
on Joan Lowrie's appearance when she came down to her work the next
morning; but Joan looked neither right nor left, and went to her place
without a word. Not one among them had ever heard her speak of her
miseries and wrongs, or had known her to do otherwise than ignore the
fact that their existence was well known among her fellow-workers.

When Derrick passed her on his way to his duties, she looked up from
her task with a faint, quick color, and replied to his courteous gesture
with a curt yet not ungracious nod. It was evident that not even her
gratitude would lead her to encourage any advances. But, notwithstanding
this, he did not feel repelled or disappointed. He had learned enough of
Joan, in their brief interview, to prepare him to expect no other manner
from her. He was none the less interested in the girl because he
found himself forced to regard her curiously and critically, and at a
distance.

He watched her as she went about her work, silent, self-contained and
solitary.

"That lass o' Lowrie's!" said a superannuated old collier once, in
answer to a remark of Derrick's. "Eh! hoo's a rare un, hoo is! Th'
fellys is haaf feart on her. Tha' sees hoo's getten a bit o' skoolin'.
Hoo con read a bit, if tha'll believe it, Mester," with a touch of
pride.

"Not as th' owd chap ivver did owt fur her i' that