Godfrey went to the mill, and heard John Henry Cooper’s business statements almost in silence. Then he said—
“I am here now to do what Mr Guy is not strong enough to manage. He will direct everything.”
“Ay, sir, so best; you’ll not better Mr Guy’s notions of business requirements; but it’s nothing but your place to do your utmost for the business,” said Cooper, composedly.
As Godfrey went back to his brother, it struck him how strange it was that the two narratives to which he had just listened should apply to the same person, that the sharp, keen struggle for success in life, and the awful mystical combat with an unknown power, should hang on the same indomitable will.
“Guy,” he said, “it’s all right. Cooper’s going to show me about wool samples to-morrow, and—and—I wish you’d let me black your boots for you!”
“If you like,” said Guy, with his odd little smile. “You shall do all the dirty work for me. There’s plenty of it in a mill.”