"If he comes tonight, tell him I cannot see him until half-past nine in the morning."
"That is right—but what for?"
"Because I am much troubled and a little angry. I wish to get myself in harness before I see anyone."
"Well, you know, John, that Harry never liked the mill, but while father lived he did not dare to say so. Poor lad! He hated mill life."
"He ought at least to remember what his grandfather and father thought of Hatton Mill. Why, mother, on his twenty-first birthday, father solemnly told him the story of the mill and how it was the seal and witness between our God and our family—yet he would bring strangers into our work! I'll have no partner in it—not the best man in England! Yet Harry would share it with the Naylors, a horse-racing, betting, irreligious crowd, who have made their money in byways all their generations. Power of God! Only to think of it! Only to think of it! Harry ought to be ashamed of himself—he ought that."
"
Now, John, my dear lad, I will not hear Harry blamed when he is not here to speak for himself—no, I will not! Wait till he is, and it will be fair enough then to say what you want to. I am Harry's mother, and I will see he gets fair play. I will that. It is my bounden duty to do so, and I'll do it."
"You are right, mother, we must all have fair judgment, and I will see that the brother I love so dearly gets it."
"God love thee, John."
"And, mother, keep a brave and cheerful heart. I will do all that is possible to satisfy Harry."