"Some sort of proposals has come from the masters—I've not heard particulars. Meeting us half-way, I'm told."
"And it's going to be settled?"
"There's a meeting. We're going to consider the question," said Stevens. "Some don't want to give in till we get the whole. It's only a half rise that's talked of. I don't know if we'll accept the offer, or if we'll wait a while longer."
"And meantime—what are we to do?" asked Martha. "There's nothing to eat. What are we to do? Roger, don't be persuaded," she implored. "Do take the right side; and don't you mind what others say. If the masters give way one half, surely the men can give way the other half. It's like children if they don't—holding out because they've said they will. Don't you listen to what others say—Pope least of all. It's nothing to him—he, with all his comforts. And just look at us. It's life and death to the children."
"A man must do as others do," came in answer.
"I don't see the 'must.' Mr. Holdfast don't; and I'm sure he's as much of a man as any of you. I wouldn't be so easy led, if I was a man, that I wouldn't!" declared Martha passionately. "As if folks' talk was more to you than the wants of your own little ones."
Stevens walked off, banging the door behind him; and the noise brought another moan from Harry. Martha sat watching him, tears running down her cheeks.
"Maybe he'd like me to sing to him," said Millie. "Would he, mother?"
"Try," was the reply.
And Millie's thin but sweet child-voice rose softly in one of the hymns she had learnt at the Church Sunday-school, Bobbie's uncertain tones joining in now and then.