"Poor people!" sighed the girl. "Why did they go out?"
"Poor fools!" said Mr. Leigh warmly; "they walked out for nothing more than they always have had."
"I saw that they had some cause; what was it?"
"Oh! they've always some cause. If they didn't have one they'd make it. Now they are talking of extending it over our lines."
"Our lines! Why?"
"Heaven knows. We've done everything they demanded—in reason. They talk about a sympathetic strike. I hear that a fellow has come on to bring it about. Poor fools!"
The girl gave him a smile of affection as he pushed back his chair. And leaning over her as he walked toward the door, he gave her a kiss of mingled pride and affection. But when he had left the room she sat still for some moments, looking straight ahead of her, her brow slightly puckered with thought which evidently was not wholly pleasant, and then with a sweeping motion of her hand she pushed her chair back, and, as she arose from the table, said: "I wish I knew what is right!" That moment a new resolution entered her mind, and, ringing the bell for the servant, she ordered her carriage.