Sarah's School Friend Part 44

'What does she mean? Speak up, my la.s.s; why are they ringing my bell?

Speak, I tell you!' he commanded.

So Sarah spoke, and told him what her brother had done.

The mill-owner listened in silence, and Sarah scarcely recognised her father's voice when he said, 'Thank G.o.d, my credit's saved! I don't deserve such children; but you take after your mother, and she's brought you up right. I've been a hard man, and I'd have been your ruin if you hadn't prevented it.' Then he shut his eyes, only to open them and say, 'Tell the hands I'm glad they've come back;' and with a sigh he went off into a refres.h.i.+ng sleep.

'And, oh George! he was so different, so humble and gentle. It did make me feel so ashamed of myself,' cried Sarah to her brother when he came in to lunch.

'I'm glad to hear it. It's about time you were,' announced George.

'You needn't say that now,' said Sarah, 'just when everything is going all right.'

'I don't know that everything is going all right; in fact, I'm rather glad I did not come in time to talk to father, for I should not have given such a glowing account of everything as you have,' he remarked.

'You are dreadfully pessimistic. Of course there are ups and downs in business; it's only that you are not used to it,' insisted Sarah.

'It's mostly downs at present unfortunately,' said George; and he was to repeat the remark only too often in the weeks that followed.

CHAPTER XXIX.

'A MIRACLE.'

It was some weeks after the events related in the last chapter, and George was looking years older, so his mother told him.

'Nay, lad, you must let me help you,' said Mr Howroyd. 'I've a few thousands lying idle, and you'll want them to keep the mills going for the next few weeks.'

'Do you mean to say it costs a thousand a week to keep the mills going?'

cried Sarah.

'It does that, la.s.s, and I hear you've no orders coming in,' replied her uncle.

'Then what's the good of their doing work if no one will buy it?' said Sarah, whose enthusiasm had died out, and who was now as pessimistic as her brother.

'Have it done ready for buyers. We often have to fill our warehouses in bad times till we can find a market for our goods; and as George won't go and ask for orders'----began his uncle.

'I really could not, Uncle Howroyd. I should feel like a beggar,'

protested George.

'Then you must sit here and wait till buyers come; it's only a case of holding out long enough. Hurst is a good man, and a first-rate manager. I don't know why the buyers have left you. I'm afraid it's some mischief that's been made over the trial of the young men for firing the house, and their heavy sentence. 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 fas.h.i.+onable 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 and having to tell him that things are rather slack. You know the doctor says he will soon be able to go down to the mills himself, and then he'll know the truth,' said Sarah, who, it will be observed, had quite changed in her feelings towards her father.

'Well, they say when things come to the worst they will mend, and things have come to about the worst with us, so let's hope they will mend,' said George, rousing himself and trying to speak cheerfully.

'That proverb is rubbish,' said Sarah, with some of her old violence; 'things often come to the worst and just end there.'

'We've done our best, anyway, so we shall have that consolation,'

remarked George.

'How much longer can you hold out?' inquired the practical Sarah.

'Practically I'm at the end of my tether, and was thinking of warning the hands that the mills may have to shut down at the end of next week.'

'Oh, wait a day, George, and don't do anything without asking father first; he ought to be asked, and he may think of a way out of the difficulty,' entreated his sister.

'All right; but a day won't make any difference, unless a miracle happens,' observed George.

'Father will have been out for his first drive, and will be stronger, for one thing,' said Sarah. 'And, who knows? a miracle may happen.'

'Lady Grace and Mr and Miss Cunningham to see you, Miss Sarah,' announced Sykes.