' quiet, an' I knowed she was dead.

"Theer, Mester Doncaster, theer it aw is, fur theer she lies under th'
daisies cloost by her child, fur I browt her here an' buried her. Th'
fellow as come betwixt us had tortured her fur a while an' then left her
again, I fun out--an' she wur so afeard of doin' me some harm that she
wouldna come nigh me. It wur heart disease as killed her, th' medical
chaps said, but I knowed better--it wur heart-break. That's aw.
Sometimes I think o'er it till I conna stand it any longer, an' I'm fain
to come here an' lay my hand on th' grass,--an' sometimes I ha' queer
dreams about her. I had one last neet. I thowt 'at she comn to me aw at
onct just as she used to look, on'y, wi' her white face shinin' loike
a star, an' she says, 'Tim, th' path isna so long after aw--tha's come
nigh to th' eend, an' me an' th' little chap is waitin'. He knows thee,
dear lad, fur I've towt him.'

"That's why I comn here to-neet, Mester; an' I believe that's why I've
talked so free to thee. If I'm near th' eend I'd loike some one to know,
I ha' meant no hurt when I seemed grum an' surly, It wurna ill-will, but
a heavy heart."

He stopped here, and his head drooped upon his hands again, and for a
minute or so there was another dead silence. Such a story as this needed
no comment. I could make none. It seemed to me that the poor fellow's
sore heart could bear none. At length he rose from the turf and stood
up, looking out over the graves into the soft light beyond with a
strange, wistful sadness.

"Well, I mun go now," he said slowly. "Good-neet, Mester, good-neet, an'
thank yo' fur listenin'."

"Good night," I returned, adding, in an impulse of pity that was almost
a passion, "and God help you!"

"Thank yo' again, Mester!" he said, and then turned away; and as I sat
pondering I watched his heavy drooping figure threading its way among
the dark mounds and white marble, and under the shadowy trees, and out
into the path beyond. I did not sleep well that night. The strained,
heavy tones of the man's voice were in my ears, and the homely yet
tragic story seemed to weave itself into all my thoughts, and keep me
from rest. I could not get it out of my mind.

In consequence of this sleeplessness I was later than usual in going
down to the factory, and when I arrived at the gates I found an
unusual bustle there. Something out of the ordinary routine had plainly
occurred, for the whole place was in confusion. There wa