“Cora de Bourdillon was my mother,” said Salome. “But before and above all else, Newbern Shepard was my grandfather. I am like him. I must be like him. And you must submit to the laws of heredity.”
So there was never any more prolonged discussion between them. Salome’s nature being so much the stronger, kind-hearted, weak Mrs. Soule could not oppose her further. But many times, in after years, was she heard to deplore the fact that Cora de Bourdillon’s child was so thorough-going an epitome of Newbern Shepard.
“A good man,” she would say. “A perfectly honest and well-meaning man; but not like Us!”
X.
Early that evening Geoffrey Burnham and John Villard were announced. Mrs. Soule and Salome were alone in the parlors when they came in, but Marion was sent for.
“And you’ve brought good news?” asked Salome. “They’ve consented to go to work again?”
“Of course,” Burnham replied. “They were only too glad to meet us on any sort of terms.”
“Wait till my friend comes down,” said Salome. “She is interested, and will want to hear the details. Oh, here she is. Miss Shaw, allow me to present my two confrères (and teachers as well), Mr. Burnham and Mr. Villard.”
“And so it is really settled?” Salome asked, “and the mills are to be opened again?”
“Monday morning, if you like,” replied Burnham, “or earlier. But to-day is Wednesday, and there are many things to be done where the mills have stood idle for months.”