"I hear she's not been at work for several weeks, and as Mr. Stepaside is unable to attend to business just now, I thought I might be of some service."
The woman laughed sourly. "Ay, you're Bolitho's lass, are you?" she said. "A pretty tangle things have got into; and what I want to know is if, as newspapers say, according to the confession your feyther made on the Bench, he married Paul's mother, where do yo' come in?"
Mary's face blanched, not only because of the woman's words, but because of the look she gave her. Still she held on her way.
"I'm naturally interested in the people Mr. Stepaside has employed," she said, "and as I am given to understand that she's been unable to work for several weeks, I thought I might be of service."
"I'm noan asking for charity," replied the woman.
"No, I know," replied Mary. "Still, if your daughter is out of employment she won't be earning anything, and I thought if I could be of any help to you——"
"I want no 'elp. I never asked anyone for charity yet, and never took none owther, and I'm noan going to begin now."
There was a defiant ring in the woman's voice, and Mary realised that here was one of those strong, determined characters who are not easily moved, and which are not rare among the Lancashire operatives.
"But if your daughter is ill," went on Mary, "she must be lonely. Has she had the doctor, may I ask?"
"Would you mind my telling you, miss, that that's noan o' your business. If our Emily has no mind to work, she'll noan work. Good afternoon." And the woman closed the door in her face.