you had better let me dismiss the hands: they have only an hour at midday.”
She signed her assent, and he turned to the operatives and said quietly: “You have heard Mrs. Westmore’s promise; now take yourselves off, and give her a clear way to the stairs.”
They dropped back, and Mr. Tredegar drew Bessy’s arm through his; but as he began to move away she turned and laid her hand on Mrs. Dillon’s shoulder.
“You must not stay here—you must go back to the children. I will make it right with Mr. Truscomb,” she said in a reassuring whisper; then, through her tears, she smiled a farewell at the lingering knot of operatives, and followed her companions to the door.
In silence they descended the many stairs and crossed the shabby unfenced grass-plot between the mills and the manager’s office. It was not till they reached the carriage that Mrs. Westmore spoke.
“But Maria is waiting for us—we must call for her!” she said, rousing herself; and as Amherst opened the carriage-door she added: “You will show us the way? You will drive with us?”
During the drive Bessy remained silent, as if reabsorbed in the distress of the scene she had just witnessed; and Amherst found himself automatically answering Mr. Tredegar’s questions, while his own mind
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