ouse cleared before he came,' George explained
to his sister, who was his confidante; for Mrs Clay, strange to say, took
no interest in the mills or her son's proceedings except so far as it
'pleased father.'

However, Mr Clay came down, and saw the huge bales being sent off to the
shipping line. His quick business eye took in the whole situation at a
glance. 'You've been slack. It's been a heavy pull,' he said gravely.

'Yes, father; but the worst is over, and things are looking up. We've
cleared this side, and I've had two more smaller orders since Mr
Cunningham's,' said his son.

'And you've borne all that worry alone, and never told me a word. You're
too good to your old father, both of you, for I've brought it on you;
it's me the buyers have forsaken, not you. But they'll come round again.
We make good cloth and blankets, and they know it,' he said; but he did
not boast as he used to do.

The hands, looking rather ashamed and shy, greeted him respectfully as he
walked slowly along, dragging his paralysed foot after him. 'I'm glad to
see you again,' he said again and again.

But when he had gone, they shook their heads and said Mark Clay would
never be the man he had been, and that it was the young master they must
look to now.

'And a good master he'll be, though he's a bit too polite, and down upon
what he calls rudeness, which is only our way,' said one of the young
men.

'You've taught them London manners, lad,' said Mark Clay, looking at his
son quizzically, as he noticed how no man, woman, or child passed the
young master without some greeting.

George laughed. 'I couldn't stand their rough ways,' he admitted.

'Well, I've nought against it, and I see you've made some other
alterations for their benefit; but I've nought against that either.
You've done well by the mill and by me, and I'm proud of you, and proud
of my girl, for she's got a shrewd business head, too, it seems.'

'Yes; I couldn't have done it without her. She is so quick, and seems to
know the right thing by instinct,' said George.

'That's the woman's way. It's wonderful how they'll see things we can't.
Your mother's the same,' replied Mark Clay.

And George made no comment on this change of front, though he remembered
the times without number that his blood had boiled when the millionaire
had spoken contemptuously of his wife, and told her that she did not know
what she was talking about.

* * * *