A year rolled by—a year of prosperity to the Shawsheen Mills, and of growth and improvement in the condition of their operatives. John Villard had been made first superintendent and a new man had taken his place. Salome continued to act as her own agent and had developed a keen love and tact for the business,—a condition of affairs which Mrs. Soule never ceased to bemoan.
The young people at the Hall were more than ever the dearest objects of her solicitude. In most cases, their elevation had been steady and substantial. Young men had become self-respecting and carried themselves with increased dignity. Young women gradually grew less frivolous and more earnest. Thrown together under so much better conditions than formerly, both sexes emulated the politeness which they were quick to notice between Villard and Salome. They became more quiet and decorous; they read a better class of books; they began, in their way, to cultivate higher tastes than had been known in the old factory boarding-house or among the tumble-down tenement houses. Several marriages had taken place, at which Salome had acted as the girl’s guardian, giving away the bride. Young O’Donovan’s was the first of these. His increased pay as overseer enabled him to marry Kitty Kendall, to whom he had long been devoted; and the young bridegroom was even happier than the bride when Salome offered to act in that capacity. Neither of them would have dared ask it of her, but her evident willingness to act on this occasion encouraged those who came after, until Salome said she felt all the responsibilities of a mother with a large family of daughters.
As Villard saw all this marrying and giving in marriage, he grew, at times, more restless. There were occasions when he came suddenly upon Salome, or, perhaps during their rare talks together, when he felt sure for a moment that she felt for him more than a friendly interest. But, remembering his comparative poverty, he never spoke the one word which would have broken down all barriers. And Salome successfully concealed her feeling for him, not daring, even, to examine it herself. So they had drifted on, more than friends and less than lovers, through another year.
There came, at last, the first period of absence from each other since Mr. Greenough’s death. Daily association, pleasant as it is, cannot teach lovers how much they love, as can a short separation.
The second dividend of the mills had been declared, each operative getting three and a half per cent., this time, on their wages. When the work consequent on this transaction was closed up, it was decided to put new machinery in the lower mills. There was an improved kind in one of the Holyoke mills, and it was decided that Villard should go, personally, to examine its workings, leaving Salome and the second superintendent alone for a few days.
Villard had made his preparations to start with a strange sinking at the heart. He was not a man to indulge in silly presentiment, but he could not feel any enthusiasm about going. He had not taken two days away from the mills in two years, and was justly entitled to a vacation; but every time he thought of going to Holyoke, his heart sank within him.
He thought it was because he must leave Salome, and chided himself for his sentimental fancies. He told himself to be a man; not a silly fool. And, finally, he refused to think of his premeditated journey, since he could not do so comfortably.
He was to leave Shepardtown on a seven-thirty express, west. Salome remained at the office unusually late that afternoon. She made him go carefully over her various duties, and recount, over and over again, everything necessary for her to say or do while he was gone.
The other superintendent was called away early, and she was left alone with Villard in the inner office, the clerks coming in and out and Marion dropping in once on a trifling errand.
Finally, she said: