nce. It has not done Clay's Mills any good.'

'I know that, uncle, and that's why I don't want to take your money. It's
only throwing good money after bad,' said George.

'Haven't I got any money?' inquired Sarah.

Mr Howroyd laughed as he said, 'Not yet. You'll have all that and more
when I'm dead and gone.'

'And I hope that will be never!' cried Sarah impetuously.

'Then you'd better take this money now. I've neither chick nor child, so
it's yours,' he said with his cheery smile.

'George, I think you'd better. Taking it from Uncle Howroyd is not taking
charity,' said Sarah.

'I should think not,' put in her uncle.

George let himself be persuaded, in spite of his firm conviction that
feeling was so strong against Clay's Mills and their owners, and that
they were practically being boycotted by the buyers.

And he was right. The weeks dragged on, and since the big contract, which
had been finished and sent off to time, thanks to the goodwill of the
hands, no order of any importance had come in, and George heard of them
being placed elsewhere in the town.

'It's no good, Sarah,' he said one day. 'I knew we were done for when I
read that article in the paper about ill-gotten gains, and there have
been others since.'

'Is Uncle Howroyd's money gone?' inquired Sarah.

'Practically, and the warehouses are full. I mind more for father and
the hands; they've come back to us, and everything is going well in the
mills, and Hurst is a good business man; but it's no use making good
cloth if people won't buy it.'

'Hasn't the new dye taken at all?' inquired Sarah.

'Yes, to a certain extent, and it is the only thing we are selling; but
it wants some fashionable person to take it up, and I really couldn't
push it or ask any of my friends,' he observed.

'I might ask Horatia to get her mother to have a costume that colour,'
said Sarah doubtfully; 'but she hasn't written lately. She said they were
coming up north in their motor, and should call and see us all. But I
expect they've read those things that have been written, and don't want
to have anything to do with us now we're ruined, or going to be.'

'In that case you can't possibly write to her. But I wish I knew what to
do. I have even been to see some of the buyers, only to be refused,' said
George a little bitterly.

'Oh, have you really? That was plucky of you, because I know you hate it
so. I do wish something would happen. I hate going into father's room