"That day killed me. I do not mean that I am going to die, or any nonsense of that sort, but I am not the same Dolly I was—not the Dolly you knew once—and loved."
Mrs. Werner did not answer. She turned up Mrs. Mortomley's face and looked at it through blinding tears—no, not the Dolly of the olden time, not the Dolly she had loved so much, but another Dolly who was dearer to her an hundredfold than any woman she had ever previously known or ever might know again—a woman with a soft heart and a great courage, the bravest, tenderest, truest woman, woman ever loved.
Like a far-off echo was the love she had once felt for Mortomley himself. Like the sound of an air solemn and sweet was the love she felt for the friend of her youth, Mortomley's wife.
Two fine natures they possessed, those friends; but the finer, the truer, the loftier nature of the two was, spite of all her shortcomings, possessed by the woman who chanced to be in such sore distress, and Mrs. Werner, with her strong intellect, grasped this fact.
"What were the men about," asked Mrs. Werner after a pause, "that they did not see after the animals you left behind?"
"My dear," said Dolly, "have you ever been in a house when the mother just dead has left no one behind to look after the children? I think every one must once in a lifetime have seen how the irresponsible, unruly brats comport themselves. Homewood is in that strait. The men are all at daggers drawn, each wants to be master, each wants to be a gentleman of leisure. There are five foremen and three managers seeing to the work now. Lang has left, or rather Lang has been dismissed."
"Why?" inquired Mrs. Werner.
"It is an old story now, as stories are with us—three weeks old at all events. Some great firm who had never done business with Archie before, sent to the Thames Street warehouse for a specimen of that wonderful blue which he brought out eighteen months ago, and of course the letter went on to Salisbury House.
"They knew nothing of the bankruptcy, and ordered, oh! some enormous quantity of it to be despatched to America.
"Well, Mr. Swanland sent this order to Homewood, and Lang went up to his office, and said plainly the blue could not be made unless Mr. Mortomley superintended the manufacture. Hankins went up and said it could. Lang came to Archie, and Archie wrote to Mr. Swanland offering to see that the order was properly executed.