I spoke
so. I'm a bit discontented, perhaps, but don't you fear for me, father;
and we mustn't fret--anyway, till after to-morrow.'

'She's nawt content, is she?' said the stoker, settling his head into
his hands. 'I've hed my frets, too, alone here, thinkin' summut like I
should liked to knaw books, an' been defferent, but it's like I'd nawt
been content. Lord knows. 'Deed I loves them doors an' the old place
here, but seems as if summut was sayin' there's better things; it's like
there is, but nawt for such as me. I doan' care for mysel', but I'd like
to hev more to gev my little girl.'

'You give me all you've got, father, and I ought to be satisfied. But
I'm not--it's not your blame, father, but I know I'm not,' she said,
with sudden energy. 'I don't know what I want; it's something--it seems
as if I was hungry.'

'Nawt hungry, Jane! She's nawt starvin'!'

'No, I don't want any more to eat, nor better clothes,' she said,
getting out the words painfully. 'It's something else; I can't tell what
it is, unless I'm hungry.'

'Well, I knaw I doan' understan' her,' said the man sadly. 'I doan' knaw
my little girl. Is it _him_ she's thinkin' of?'

The fire-glow on the girl's face hid any change that may have come
there, and she only drew a little farther away, without answering.

'I've nawt seen many people, Jane, but sometimes I likes an' dislikes,
as Nobby does, an' I doan' like _him_. An' I doan' like him to be nigh
my girl; there's naw truth in him. I wish she'd say she'll hev naw more
speech with him.'

'No, no, father, don't ask me that. I don't care for him, but I can't
promise not to speak to him--I do! I do! Oh, father!' sobbed the girl,
'everything comes at once!'

The old man drew her head on his knee, and even his rough voice grew
softer, talking to his 'little girl.' He bent and kissed her.

'I wish 'twere nawt so,' he said; 'but mebbe I'm wrong. Lord keep my
little girl, an' we'll nawt fret, but be happy to-morrow.'

Another man came in with a big tread. It was the engineer, a hale, burly
fellow, with a genuine, rollicking kindness. He tossed the boy into the
air, pinched Jane's cheek, and gave his morning salutation in several
lusty thumps on the stoker's back.

'Rippin' day this'll be, Adam,' said he; 'say t'won't, an' I'll shake
your ribs loose. Just such a day's I like to breathe in; an' when I've
set all night in my chair there, not sleepin' of course, but seein' that
everlastin' old cross