now?"

The woman looked up and down the street like one afraid, but answered
quietly, "Ay, she is."

"I'm given to understand," said Mary, "that she was one of my--that is,
Mr. Stepaside's workpeople?"

The woman was silent.

"Is she ill?"

"What's that to yo'?"

To a South country person the woman's attitude might have seemed rude,
but a Lancashire man would have regarded her answers to Mary's
questions as natural. As I have before stated, there is nothing
obsequious in a Lancashire operative's behaviour. They are rough,
oft-times to the point of rudeness, although no rudeness is meant.
Possibly this woman might have regarded Mary's visit as a piece of
impertinence. If a neighbour had come, that neighbour would have been
received kindly, but Mary's appearance suggested that she did not
belong to the order of people who lived in that street, and there were
many who resented anything like what seemed interference.

"But your daughter is not very well, is she?"

"I never said owt o' th' so'ort."

"I hear she's not been at work for several weeks, and as Mr. Stepaside
is unable to attend to business just now, I thought I might be of some
service."

The woman laughed sourly. "Ay, you're Bolitho's lass, are you?" she
said. "A pretty tangle things have got into; and what I want to know
is if, as newspapers say, according to the confession your feyther made
on the Bench, he married Paul's mother, where do yo' come in?"

Mary's face blanched, not only because of the woman's words, but
because of the look she gave her. Still she held on her way.

"I'm naturally interested in the people Mr. Stepaside has employed,"
she said, "and as I am given to understand that she's been unable to
work for several weeks, I thought I might be of service."

"I'm noan asking for charity," replied the woman.

"No, I know," replied Mary. "Still, if your daughter is out of
employment she won't be earning anything, and I thought if I could be
of any help to you----"

"I want no 'elp. I never asked anyone for charity yet, and never took
none owther, and I'm noan going to begin now."

There was a defiant ring in the woman's voice, and Mary realised that
here was one of those strong, determined characters who are not easily
moved, and which are not rare among the Lancashire operatives.

"But if your daughter is ill," went on Mary, "she must be lonely. Has
she had the doctor, may I ask?"

"Would you mind my telling you, mis