As for Nelly Northover, she had long been the wife of Mr. Job Legg.  That pertinacious man achieved his end at last, and what his few enemies declared was guile, and his many friends held to be tact, won Nelly to him a year after her adventure with Mr. Gurd.  None congratulated them more heartily than the master of ‘The Tiger.’  Indeed, when ’The Seven Stars’ blazed out anew on an azure firmament—­the least of many changes that refreshed and invigorated that famous house—­’The Tiger’ also shone forth in savage splendour and his black and orange stripes blazed again from a mass of tropical vegetation.

And beneath the inn signs prosperity continued to obtain.  Mr. Gurd grew less energetic than of yore, while Mrs. Legg put on much flesh and daily perceived her wisdom in linking Job for ever to the enterprise for which she lived.  He became thinner, if anything, and Time toiled after him in vain.  Immense success rewarded his innovations, and the tea-gardens of ‘The Seven Stars’ had long become a feature of Bridport’s social life.  People hinted that Mr. Legg was not the meek and mild spirit of ancient opinion and that Nelly knew it; but this suggestion may be held no more than the penalty of fame—­an activity of the baser sort, who ever drop vinegar of detraction into the oil of content.

John Best still reigned at the Mill, though he had himself already chosen the young man destined to wear his mantle in process of time.  To leave the works meant to leave his garden; and that he was unprepared to do until failing energies made it necessary.  A decade saw changes among the workers, but not many.  Sally Groves had retired to braid for the firm at home, and old Mrs. Chick was also gone; but the other hands remained and the staff had slightly increased.  Nancy Buckler was chief spinner now; Sarah Roberts still minded the spreader, and Nicholas continued at the lathes.  Benny Cogle had a new Otto gas engine to look after, and Mercy Gale, now married to him, still worked in the warping chamber.  Levi Baggs would not retire, and since he hackled with his old master, the untameable man, now more than sixty years old, still kept his place, still flouted the accepted order, still read sinister motives into every human activity.  New machinery had increased the prosperity of the enterprise, but to no considerable extent.  Competition continued keen as ever, and each year saw the workers winning slightly increased power through the advance of labour interests.

Raymond Ironsyde was satisfied and remained largely unchanged.  He had hardened in opinion and increased in knowledge.  He lacked imagination and, as of old, trusted to the machine; but he was rational and proved a capable, second class man of sound judgment and trustworthy in all his undertakings.  Sport continued to be a living interest of his life, and since he had no ties that involved an establishment, he gladly accepted Arthur Waldron’s offer of a permanent home.