"Well, when are you going to get married?" demanded the woman, laughing.
"Very soon, I hope.... I do much better than you, Jane, in these things. The girl I've got my eye on is a girl who summoned several hundred factory hands together; and told 'em she was sorry for a mistake she'd made. And she halted a bit, and stumbled a bit—but she got through with it.... And then the men cheered 'emselves sick...."
"Good heavens! Joe ... Factory hands!" gasped the woman. "What sort of a girl is she?"
"A perfect topper, Jane." Out of the corner of his eye he glanced at Marjorie, whose eyes were fixed on her plate. "By the way, Miss Frenton, has your father turned his works into a company yet?"
"Not yet," she answered, very low.
"Ah! that's good." He forced her to meet his eyes, and there was something more than a smile on his face now. "Well, I must go back to my sister.... And I'll come and call to-morrow if I may.... Jane will expose my wicked deceit doubtless...."
"Mad—quite mad," remarked the woman opposite, as he went back to his interrupted dinner. "Morrison, did you say? I knew he wanted to study labour conditions first-hand—why, Heaven knows. He's got works of his own or something.... But all the Carlakes are mad.... And I'd got a splendid American girl up my sleeve for him...."
"Carlake," said Marjorie, a little faintly. "Is that Lord Carlake?"
"Of course it is, my dear. That's Joe Carlake.... Mad as a hatter.... I wonder who the girl is...."
VI — The Unbroken Line