“If it were anybody else in the world but my noble, generous wife,” he began, “I would refuse, even now.”
“If it were any one else but my noble husband,” she replied, “I could not yield control of the mills, and all the plans I have cherished for the employes. But I know in whom I trust,” and her eyes shone with wifely pride and affection.
“There are still so many things to do,” said Villard, a little later. “I know I can always depend on you to help me.”
“Oh, I am not laying down the work and retiring to the old life of idleness,” was the reply. “I shall leave the management of the mills to their new owner. It’s no part of a married woman’s business to manage her husband’s office. But I shall have all the more leisure left for doing good. I have no end of schemes to lay before you; and, I have no doubt, you have wiser plans than mine.”
“I am glad, on the whole,” said Villard thoughtfully, “that you are going to have more freedom. You are tired and worn with watching and caring for me,—dear, blessed soul that you are. Your burdens, in the past two years, have been borne marvelously well. Any other woman would have given way long ago. But, after all, I am a selfish man.”
“You, John!”
“Yes. I must confess, I want you all to myself, a part of the time.”
“All I have and all I am, dear, is yours. And yet, I cannot help feeling that we have still a great work to do. Employers, on all sides, are looking to see us fail in our attempts. As we stand or fall, will factories outside of Shepardtown be benefited or injured.”
“I remember what you once said, Salome. Your brave words were a watchword with me many a time when my courage was low.”
“What were they?”