George gave his sister a swift glance, and then appealed to his uncle. 'What do you say, sir? Is it any use my trying?'
'My lad,' said Mr Howroyd in a moved tone of voice, 'if you had asked me that question a month ago I should have told you to go back to your Greek and your Latin at college, and leave blanket-making to those who know what they are doing; but if you like to try, I'll not be the one to stop you. It won't be much worse if you fail.'
'Oh, but he won't fail.—Will you, George?' cried Sarah.
'I hope not; I can but try,' said George.
But the two enthusiasts had a sudden check when they informed their mother.
'George run the mills! You don't know w'at you are talkin' about.—That's your doin', Sarah; you've always some maggot in your 'ead.'
'But Uncle Howroyd said he might try,' said Sarah.
'Your uncle Howroyd's kindness itself, an' generous to a fault. Don't you see you'd be runnin' them on 'is credit? Who'd trust George if they thought 'e was responsible? An' if your uncle Howroyd stan's surety 'e runs to lose 'eavily,' said Mrs Clay, who knew something about business.
'I never thought of that,' said Sarah slowly.
'Mother, you know that a certain sum was settled on me when I came of age, and was not invested in the business,' said her son.