house.

Fanny's face fell. "It's only some of the men," said she, in a low
voice. Then there came a knock on the side door, and Andrew ushered
in John Sargent, Joe Atkins, and Amos Lee. Nahum Beals did not come
in those days, for he was in prison awaiting trial for the murder of
Norman Lloyd. However, Amos Lee's note was as impressive as his. He
called often with Sargent and Atkins. They could not shake him off.
He lay in wait for them at street corners, and joined them. He never
saw Ellen alone, and did not openly proclaim his calls as meant for
her. She prevented him from doing that in a manner which he could
not withstand, full of hot and reckless daring as he was. When he
entered that night he looked around with keen furtiveness, and was
evidently listening and watching for her, though presently his voice
rose high in discussion with the others. After a while the man who
lived next door dropped in, and his wife with him. She and Fanny
withdrew to the dining-room with their sewing--for the woman also
worked on wrappers--and left the sitting-room to the men.

"It beats all how they like to talk," said the woman, with a
large-minded leniency, "and they never get anywhere," she added.
"They work themselves all up, and never get anywhere; but men are
all like that."

"Yes, they be," assented Fanny.

"Jest hear that Lee feller," said the woman.

Amos Lee's voice was audible over the little house, and could have
been heard in the yard, for it had an enormous carrying quality. It
was the voice of a public ranter. Ellen, up in her chamber, lying in
her bed, with a lamp at her side, reading, closely covered from the
cold--for the room was unheated--heard him with a shiver of disgust
and repulsion, and yet with a fierce sympathy and loyalty. She could
not distinguish every word he said, but she knew well what he was
talking about.

Mrs. Lloyd's death had made a certain hush in the ferment of revolt
at Lloyd's, but now it was again on the move. There was a strong
feeling of dislike to young Lloyd among the workmen. His uncle had
heaped up ill-feeling as well as wealth as a heritage for him. The
older Lloyd had never been popular, and Robert had succeeded to all
his unpopularity, and was fast gathering his own. He was undoubtedly
disposed to follow largely his uncle's business methods. He had
admired them, they had proved successful, and he had honestly seen
nothing culpable in them as business methods go; so it was not