butter and poultry from the country. . . . Now my plan is to supply him with another product of the country—a nice, fresh dining-room geerl—"
"No, no, no, I wouldn't go to Beemer's to work—right next door and all—I couldn't do that."
Kirke turned his head sharply towards her.
"Don't be a fool, my geerl. It's your one chance of meeting your lad again, to stop here in Brancepeth, where he's bound to turn up sometime to fetch his box. Now I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll get his box for you, and you can keep it in your room at Beemer's, so he can never get away with it without your knowledge. And another thing, I'll see to it that Beemer gives you five dollars a month more than you got from Mrs. Jessop. Now be a sensible lass and be guided by a man who knows the wairld a little better than you do. And I'm fond of you, too, though I may not be willing to be your slave as these other silly blighters are. Now, will you do what I tell you?"
"Y-yes, I'll do it," she answered sadly. "Though I'll never put my nose outside the door where I might meet Mrs. Jessop, or any of the other folk from The Duke."
"Nobody wants you to put your nose outside the door. All you have to do is to wait at table and look pleasant. Now I'm going to take ye to my shop and you'll sit there while I telephone to Beemer. It may be that he won't want ye at all, but I think I can manage him."
Delight was sitting in the whitewashed room behind Kirke's shop, waiting with much trepidation while he rang up the proprietor of The British American. The little room was beautifully clean. Through the polished win-
