'I never thought the masters would go to the extreme of a lock-out,' resumed Baxendale. 'It was a harsh measure.'
'On the face of it it does seem so,' responded Dr. Bevary. 'But what else could they have done? Have kept open their works, that those on strike might have been supported from the wages they paid their men, and probably have found those men also striking at last? If you and others had wanted to escape a lock-out, Baxendale, you should have been cautious not to lend yourselves to the agitation that was smouldering.'
'Sir, I know there's a great deal to be said on both sides,' was the reply. 'I never was for the agitation; I did not urge the strike; I set my face nearly dead against it. The worst is, we all have to suffer for it alike.'
'Ay, that is the worst of things in this world,' responded the doctor. 'When people do wrong, the consequences are rarely confined to themselves, they extend to the innocent. Come, Florence. I will see you again later, Mary.'
The doctor and his niece walked away. Mrs. Quale had already departed on her errand.
'He was always a kind man,' observed John Baxendale, looking after Dr. Bevary. 'I hope he will be able to cure you, Mary.'
'I don't feel that he will, father,' was the low answer. But Baxendale did not hear it; he was going out at the gate, to join a knot of neighbours, who were gathered together at a distance.
'Will Mary Baxendale soon get well, do you think, uncle?' demanded Florence, as they went along.
'No, my dear, I do not think she will.'
There was something in the doctor's tone that startled Florence. 'Uncle Bevary! you do not fear she will die?'