When Kimberly reached The Towers it was dusk. Brother Francis was walking on the terrace. Kimberly joined him. "How is Uncle John to-day, Francis?"
"Always the same. It is an astonishing vitality in your family, Robert."
"They need all they have."
"But all that need strength do not have it. How is your market to-day?"
"Bad," muttered Kimberly absently.
"I am sorry that you are worried."
"More than the market worries me, Francis. But the market is getting worse and worse. We met again to-day and reduced prices. The outsiders are cutting. We retaliate to protect our customers. When we cut, the cut is universal. Their warfare is guerilla. They are here to-day, there to-morrow."
"I have thought of what you said last night. Cutting you say, has failed. Try something else. To-morrow advance all of your standard brands one quarter. Be bold; cut with your own outside refineries. The profit from the one hand pays the cost of the war on the other."
Kimberly stopped. "How childish of you to waste your life in a shabby black gown, nursing people! Absolutely childish! If you will go into the sugar business, I tell you again, Francis, I will pay you twenty thousand dollars a year for ten years and set aside as much more preferred stock for you."
"Nonsense, Robert."