it, and was standing in the
centre, confronting the girl's tormentors in a flame of wrath, and Liz
was clinging to her.

"What ha' they been sayin' to yo', lass?" she demanded. "Eh! but yo're a
brave lot, yo' are--women yo' ca' yo'rsens!--badgerin' a slip o' a wench
loike this."

"I did na coom back to ax nowt fro' noan o' them," sobbed the girl. "I'd
ray ther dee ony day nor do it! I'd rayther starve i' th' ditch--an'
it's comin' to that."

"Here," said Joan, "gi' me th' choild."

She bent down and took it from her, and then stood up before them all,
holding it high in her strong arms--so superb, so statuesque, and yet
so womanly a figure, that a thrill shot through the heart of the man
watching her.

"Lasses," she cried, her voice fairly ringing, "do yo' see this? A bit
o' a helpless thing as canna answer back yo're jeers! Aye! look at it
well, aw' on yo'. Some on yo's getten th' loike at whoam. An' when yo've
looked at th' choild, look at th' mother! Seventeen year owd, Liz is,
an' th' world's gone wrong wi' her. I wunnot say as th' world's gone
ower reet wi' ony on us; but them on us as has had th' strength to
howd up agen it, need na set our foot on them as has gone down. Happen
theer's na so much to choose betwixt us after aw. But I've gotten this
to tell yo'--them as has owt to say o' Liz, mun say it to Joan Lowrie!"

Rough, and coarsely pitiless as the majority of them were, she had
touched the right chord. Perhaps the bit of the dramatic in her
championship of the girl had as much to do with the success of her
half-commanding appeal as anything else. But at least, the most hardened
of them faltered before her daring, scornful words, and the fire in her
face. Liz would be safe enough from them henceforth, it was plain.

That evening while arranging his papers before going home, Derrick was
called from his work by a summons at the office door, and going to open
it, he found Joan Lowrie standing there, looking half abashed, half
determined.

"I ha' summat to ax yo'," she said briefly, declining his invitation to
enter and be seated.

"If there is anything I can do for--" began Derrick.

"It is na mysen," she interrupted him. "There is a poor lass as I'm fain
to help, if I could do it, but I ha' not th' power. I dunnot know of any
one as has, except yo'rsen and th' parson, an' I know more o' yo' than
I do o' th' parson, so I thowt I'd ax yo' to speak to him about th' poor
wench, an ax him if he could