in to that. Still, one must look out! Arson was
about the limit! And Stanley had a vision, suddenly, of his plough-works
in flames. Why not? The ploughs were not for the English market. Who
knew whether these laboring fellows mightn't take that as a grievance,
if trouble began to spread? This somewhat far-fetched notion, having
started to burrow, threw up a really horrid mole-hill on Stanley. And
it was only the habit, in the human mind, of saying suddenly to fears:
Stop! I'm tired of you! that sent him to sleep about half past four.

He did not, however, neglect to wire to Felix:

"If at all possible, come down again at once; awkward business at
Joyfields."

Nor, on the charitable pretext of employing two old fellows past
ordinary work, did he omit to treble his night-watchman....

On Wednesday, the day of which he had seen the dawn rise, Felix had
already been startled, on returning from his constitutional, to discover
his niece and nephew in the act of departure. All the explanation
vouchsafed had been: "Awfully sorry, Uncle Felix; Mother's wired for
us." Save for the general uneasiness which attended on all actions of
that woman, Felix would have felt relieved at their going. They had
disturbed his life, slipped between him and Nedda! So much so that he
did not even expect her to come and tell him why they had gone, nor
feel inclined to ask her. So little breaks the fine coherence of really
tender ties! The deeper the quality of affection, the more it 'starts
and puffs,' and from sheer sensitive feeling, each for the other, spares
attempt to get back into touch!

His paper--though he did not apply to it the word 'favorite,' having
that proper literary feeling toward all newspapers, that they took him
in rather than he them--gave him on Friday morning precisely the same
news, of the rick-burning, as it gave to Stanley at breakfast and to
John on his way to the Home Office. To John, less in the know, it merely
brought a knitting of the brow and a vague attempt to recollect the
numbers of the Worcestershire constabulary. To Felix it brought a
feeling of sickness. Men whose work in life demands that they shall
daily whip their nerves, run, as a rule, a little in advance of
everything. And goodness knows what he did not see at that moment.
He said no word to Nedda, but debated with himself and Flora what, if
anything, was to be done. Flora, whose sense of humor seldom deserted
her, held the more comfortable the