sum-mat to ax yo'," she said, "an' I mun tell
it to yo' alone. Will yo' coom out here?"

He followed her, wondering and sad. His heart was heavy with the pain
and mystery the narrow walls inclosed. When they paused a few yards from
the house, the one face was scarcely more full of sorrow than the other,
only that the woman's was wet with tears. She was not given to many
words, Bess Janner, and she wasted few in the story she had to tell.
"Yo' know th' secret as she carried," she said, "or I wouldna tell yo'
even now; an' now I tell it yo' that she may carry the secret to her
grave, an' ha' no gossiping tongue to threep at her. I dunnot want foak
starin' an' wonderin' an' makkin' talk. She's borne enow."

"It shall be as you wish, whether you tell me the story or not," said
Langley. "We will keep it as sacred as you have done."

She hesitated a moment, seemingly pondering with herself before she
answered him. "Ay," she said, "but I ha' another reason behind. I want
summat fro' yo': I want yo're pity. Happen it moight do her good even
now." She did not look at him as she proceeded, but stood with her
face a little turned away and her eyes resting upon the shadow on
the mountain. "Theer wur a lass as worked at th' Deepton mines," she
said--"a lass as had a weakly brother as worked an' lodged wi' her. Her
name wur Jinny, an' she wur quiet and plain-favored. Theer wur other
wenches as wur well-lookin', but she wasna; theer wur others as had
homes, and she hadna one; theer wur plenty as had wit an' sharpness,
but she hadna them neyther. She wur nowt but a desolate, homely lass, as
seemt to ha' no place i' th' world, an' yet wur tender and weak-hearted
to th' core. She wur allus longin' fur summat as she wur na loike to
get; an' she nivver did get it, fur her brother wasna one as cared fur
owt but his own doin's. But theer were one among aw th' rest as nivver
passed her by, an' he wur th' mester's son. He wur a bright, handsome
chap, as won his way ivverywheer, an' had a koind word or a laugh fur
aw. So he gave th' lass a smile, an' did her a favor now and then--loike
as not without givin' it more than a thowt--until she learned to live on
th' hope o' seein' him. An', bein' weak an' tender, it grew on her fro'
day to day, until it seemt to give th' strength to her an' tak' it both
i' one."

She stopped and looked at Langley here. "Does tha' see owt now, as I'm
getten this fur?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, his agitatio