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His clothes had evidently seen some service, and were plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop. One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it chanced that Mr. His name is John. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. " "I don't mind the throuble," hesitated Terence, who was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom; "and I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me. The word handsome was a little beyond her grasp.
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