y ever _thought_ of anything different. In those days the
Works would have been a model plant--nine-hour day, high wages, no women
working at night, no children...."

If Cally was not wholly heartened by words like these, she knew where
the lack was. And perhaps Hen herself was conscious of something
missing. For, having defended her uncle's Works at least as loyally as
she honestly could, she gave the talk a more personal tone, skirting
those phases of the matter so new-thoughty that they had never even
occurred to Hugo Canning.

"Cally, are you going to speak to Uncle Thornton about it--about your
going there, I mean?"

"No, no!" cried Cally, hastily. "How could I? Of course I--realize that
that's the way business must be--as you say. What right have I, an
ignorant little fool, to set up as papa's critic?"

"Not at all--of course," said Hen, giving her hand a little squeeze.
"What I--"

"You surely can't think that I ought to go and reprove papa for the way
he runs his business--do you, Hen?... That I--I'm _responsible_ in
any way!"

Hen noted her cousin's unexplained nervousness, and it may be she
divined a little further. She answered no, not a bit of it. She said she
meant to speak to him, not as a business expert, but only as his
daughter. It was always a mistake to have secrets in a family, said Hen.

Good advice, undoubtedly. Only Hen didn't happen to know the most
peculiar circumstances....

The two girls sat side by side on a sofa that sorely needed the
ministrations of an upholsterer. Hen was sweet-faced, but habitually
pale, usually a little worn. Her eyes and expression saved her from
total eclipse in whatever company; otherwise she would have been
annihilated now by the juxtaposition of her cousin. Cally's face was
framed in an engaging little turn-down hat of gold-brown and yellow,
about which was carelessly festooned a long and fine brown veil. Hen,
gazing rather wistfully, thought that Cally grew lovelier every year.

"I'll tell you, Cally!" she said, suddenly. "Do you know what you ought
to do? Talk to V.V. about all this!"

Cally repressed a little start; though the thought, to speak truth, was
far from being a new one. But how could she possibly talk to V.V.
without the ultimate disloyalty to papa?...

"No," she said, quietly, after a brief pause. "I could hardly do that."

"Why not? He's thought out all these things further than anybody I know.
And he'll--"

"Hen, have you forgotten