A few days later Darwen showed Mrs and Miss Jameson and their clever friend (who was also exceedingly plain, such is the balance of nature) round the works. Carstairs was on shift. His coat was off, his hands grimy. Darwen introduced him, the old lady and the clever girl took possession of him. The clever girl catechised and examined Carstairs like a police court lawyer. The old lady listened with dignity and entire mental oblivion.
Darwen and Miss Jameson wandered off by themselves.
While the clever girl was asking Carstairs for precise chemical information as to the residual scale left in the boiler, Darwen was explaining in an obscure corner of the works that that collection of big tanks was a water softener, where there were great big hammers going round to crack up the lumps in the water.
Carstairs and the clever girl argued about "ides" and "ates." Darwen and the pretty girl laughed and joked and made ribald remarks in the face of dignified 1000 H.P. engines.
A week later the second of the little dances came off. Carstairs took it seriously, and Darwen lightly. One of the dear old ladies who acted as chaperone this time was Mrs Jameson. Darwen was most attentive. He fetched her wraps when she got cold, and saw that she had a liberal supply of the best refreshments going. He was asked to call on Sunday.
He did so. The old doctor and he discussed the electricity works. "The place ought to pay, you know," Darwen said, and the doctor shook his head.
Then a big dance came off, and Darwen sent Miss Jameson a spray of flowers, white roses. He was a regular caller at the house now.
It was well into December and the mayor was holding a huge reception at the Town Hall, when the electric light failed and could not be got on again. Darwen was on shift. The entire switchboard was burnt down. The mayor in his robes and the other councillors in evening dress, descended in anger upon the works, which were not far from the Town Hall. The chief was away, but Robinson was sent for in a cab. He came, he saw, and remained helpless and useless.
Darwen was very cool and very civil, but the councillors did not bully him, he stood inches taller than any one of them, and there was a sort of snaky glitter in his eye; he did not seem the sort of man to be bullied. It was obvious he was master of the situation, the massive-looking Robinson was in a pitiable state of collapse.
Next day in answer to a wire the chief returned. The gods (which is the press) called for a human sacrifice. The local influence of Robinson was big, but the chairman seemed unaccountably heavy in favour of Darwen; then the mayor and several aldermen had seen that Darwen knew his work, while apparently Robinson did not. The chief sacked Robinson, and Darwen, as next in seniority, was promoted in his stead.