"Mr. Growther," said Haldane, huskily, "you have found that poor misshapen, dwarfed creature that I fear will never attain the proportions of a true man. Of course you see through Mrs. Arnot's imagery. In befriending me you are caring for one who is weak and puny indeed."
"Oh, you won't answer," said Mr. Growther with a laugh. "I can see that your humps is growin' wisibly less every day, and you're too big and broad-shouldered for me to be a pettin' and a yearnin' over. I want jest such a peaked little chap as Mrs. Arnot pictured out, and that's doin' me such a sight o' good."
Again the two occupants of the old kitchen gazed at the fire for a long time in silence, and again there came from the young man the same long-drawn sigh that had attracted Mr. Growther's attention before.
"That's the second time," he remarked.
"I was thinking," said Haldane, rising to retire, "whether I shall ever have better work than this odious routine at the mill."
Mr. Growther pondered over the question a few minutes, and then said sententiously: "I'm inclined to think the Lord gives us as good work as we're cap'ble of doin'. He'll promote you when you've growed a little more."