Her mother and brother both gave her a warning glance.
George said in low tones, 'It's no good exaggerating the misfortune. We have met with losses, and my father may not be a millionaire at this moment; but I hope we may not long trespass on Uncle Howroyd's hospitality, though there is no talk of living on charity.'
As he said this his father opened his eyes, and it seemed to George that there was a gleam of consciousness in them. He bent over the sick man, and said in low, clear tones, 'Father, I'll do my best to keep the mills going. That is your wish, is it not?'
''E can't 'ear, George,' sighed his mother.
'I think he understood,' declared George; and though the others did not agree with him, they said no more to discourage the young man.
'Come, Sarah,' George said gently to his sister, as he drew her out of the room with him, 'you'll have to help me to put all this business right.'
'I? What can I do? I know nothing about accounts, you know,' cried Sarah, secretly pleased, all the same, at the idea of being of use.
'You are often down at Uncle Howroyd's, and I hear you talking of "fettles and pieces," and goodness knows what all,' observed George.
Sarah laughed. 'I suppose you mean fettlers (people who clean the machines) and piecers (those who join the pieces of wool or yarn together when it breaks),' she explained.
'There! You see I don't even know these words, and if I have to go into accounts and details I must know them, or I shall be showing my ignorance, and the people will have no confidence in me,' returned George.