"Why, we needn't go to the works at all if we don't like," said Polly.
"Can't we get a fly, Hubert, and take a jaunt soomwhere?"
Hubert bent forward with alacrity. Of course they could. If they went four miles up the river or so, they would come to real nice country and a farmhouse where they could have tea.
"Well, I'm game," said Mr. Seaton, magnanimously slapping his pocket.
"Anything to please these ladies."
"I don't know about that seven o'clock train," said Mason doubtfully.
"Well, if we can't get that, there's a later one."
"No, that's the last."
"You may trust me," said Seaton pompously. "I know my way about a railway guide. There's one a little after eight."
Hubert shook his head. He thought Seaton was mistaken. But Laura settled the matter.
"Thank you—we'll not miss our train," she said, rising to put her hat straight before the glass—"so it's the works, please. What is it—furnaces and red-hot things?"
In another minute or two they were in the street again. Mr. Seaton settled the bill with a magnificent "Damn the expense" air, which annoyed Mason—who was of course a partner in all the charges of the day—and made Laura bite her lip. Outside he showed a strong desire to walk with Miss Fountain that he might instruct her in the details of the Bessemer process and the manufacture of steel rails. But the ease with which the little nonchalant creature disposed of him, the rapidity with which he found himself transferred to Polly, and left to stare at the backs of Laura and Hubert hurrying along in front, amazed him.