“The men don’t like it, I know, and haven’t liked it, but of course they can’t say anything to him, and they haven’t said anything to me; but I’ve seen all along that they looked at me with no friendly eyes, and for the last day or two I’ve heard a word here and there which makes me think there’s trouble brewing,—­bad enough, I’m afraid; maybe to the losing of my place, though Mr. Surrey has said nothing about it to me.”

Just here the little green door opened, and the foreman whom we have before seen—­James Given as the register had him entered, Jim Given as every one knew him—­came in; no longer with grimy face and flannel sleeves, but brave in all his Sunday finery, and as handsome a b’hoy, they said, at his engine-house, as any that ran with the machine; having on his arm a young lady whom he apostrophized as Sallie, as handsome and brave as he.

“Evening,”—­a nod of the head accompanying.  “Miss Howard’s traps done?”

“I wish you wouldn’t say ‘traps,’ Jim,” corrected Sallie, sotto voce:  “it’s not proper.  It’s for a collar and pair of cuffs, Mrs. Franklin,” she added aloud, putting down a little check.

“Not proper! goodness gracious me! there spoke Snipe!  Come, Sallie, you’ve pranced round with that stuck-up jackanapes till you’re getting spoiled entirely, so you are, and I scarcely know you.  Not proper,—­O my!”

“Spoiled, am I?  Thank you, sir, for the compliment!  And you don’t know me at all,—­don’t you?  Very well, then I’ll say good night, and leave; for it wouldn’t be proper to take a young lady you don’t know to the theatre,—­now, would it?  Good by!”—­making for the door.

“Now don’t, Sallie, please.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t talk that way.”

“Don’t yourself, more like.  You’re just as cross as cross can be, and disagreeable, and hateful,—­all because I happen to know there’s some other man in the world besides yourself, and smile at him now and then.  ‘Don’t,’ indeed!”

“Come, Sallie, you’re too hard on a fellow.  It’s your own fault, you know well enough, if you will be so handsome.  Now, if you were an ugly old girl, or I was certain of you, I shouldn’t feel so bad, nor act so neither.  But when there’s a lot of hungry chaps round, all gaping to gobble you up, and even poor little Snipes trying to peck and bite at you, and you won’t say ‘yes’ nor ‘no’ to me, how do you expect a man to keep cool?  Can’t do it, nohow, and you needn’t ask it.  Human nature’s human nature, I suppose, and mine ain’t a quiet nor a patient one, not by no manner of means.  Come, Sallie, own up; you wouldn’t like me so well as I hope you do if it was,—­now, would you?”

Mrs. Franklin smiled, though she had heard not a word of the lovers’ quarrel, as she put a pin in the back of the ruffled collar which Sallie had come to reclaim.  A quarrel it had evidently been, and as evidently the lady was mollified, for she said, “Don’t be absurd, Jim!” and Jim laughed and responded, “All right, Sallie, you’re an angel!  But come, we must hurry, or the curtain’ll be up,”—­and away went the dashing and handsome couple.