'That is what Dane is about, I am firmly persuaded,' said Mrs.
Coles.
'No man ever yet went to ruin by doing right,' said Dr.
Maryland.
'Many a one!' said Mr. Falkirk,—'by doing what he thought right; from John Brown up to John Huss, and from John Huss back to the time when history is lost in a fog bank.'
'They'll get their reward, I suppose, in the other world,' said Prudentia comfortably.
'How will his ruin affect the poor mill people?' said Wych Hazel, so seriously, that perhaps only Mr. Falkirk—knowing her— knew what she was about.
'Why, my dear, it ruins them too in the end; that's it. When he fails, of course his improvements fail, and everything goes back where it was before. Only worse.'
'Precisely,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'You cannot lift the world out of the grooves it runs in, by mere force; and he who tries, will put his shoulder out of joint.'
'Then my picture of "the loss of all things," is the portrait of a ruined man!' said Wych Hazel, with an expressive glance at Dr. Maryland. He smiled.
'It partly depends, you know, Miss Kennedy, upon where the race is supposed to end. But our friend is running well at present, for both worlds.'
'Arthur, he is not!' said his sister emphatically. 'Paul and John Charteris, the other mill-owners, hate him as hard as they can hate him; and if they can ruin him, they will; that you may depend upon.'