'Excuse me, Mr George, but Mr Blakeley is here,' said Ben the gate-keeper, coming into the office.
'Who is Mr Blakeley?' inquired George.
'He's one of our buyers, sir,' replied the man.
'Oh George, I know him! Do have him shown in here,' entreated Sarah. 'He is such a nice, good-humoured man.'
But circumstances alter cases, and Sarah was surprised to find that the good-natured Mr Blakeley, whom she always saw smiling and ready to complete a deal with her Uncle Howroyd, became a brusque, serious business man with her brother.
'I have an order on hand here, Mr Clay; but I should prefer if you will allow me to cancel it. I understand that there are changes in the mills, and it is rather particular that it should be woven exactly as it was,' he said, after having made some curt and perfunctory inquiries after Mr Mark Clay's health.
George evidently did not understand what he meant, and was just saying, with his usual courtesy, 'Oh, certainly; we should not, of course, hold you to your word.'
But Sarah broke in. She had been used to talk to these men when they came to see her uncle, and they had all admired the handsome girl, and showed her attention to please her uncle, who was evidently very fond of her and proud of his niece. So she felt no shyness with Mr Blakeley, and said, 'What difference do the changes make, Mr Blakeley? My father did not weave the cloth, and the manager and foremen who looked after these things are still here.'
Mr Blakeley looked at her, and an amused smile crept over his face at her business-like tone. 'Quite true, Miss Sarah; but the weavers of this particular cloth have left, I understand, and I would rather not trust it to new ones.'
'Of course not,' began George.