“You’re dead right.  Of course I know it!  I’ve been a silly fool all round.  But I won’t open my mouth so wide in future, Dan.  And don’t think I’m wasting my time.  I’m working like the devil, really, and learning everything from the beginning.  Best will tell you that’s true.  He’s a splendid teacher and I’ll see more of him in future.  And I’ll read all about yarn and get the hang of the markets, and so on.”

“Thank you—­you can’t say more.  And you might come into Bridport oftener, I think.  Aunt Jenny was saying she never sees you now.”

“I will,” promised Raymond.  “I’m going to dine with you both on my birthday.  I believe she’ll be good for fifty quid this year.  Father left her a legacy of a thousand.”

They parted, and Raymond returned to Estelle, who was now watching the warping, while Daniel went into his foreman’s office.

Estelle was radiant.  She had fallen in love with the works.

“The girls are all so kind and clever,” she said.

“Rather so.  I expect you know all about everything now.”

“Hardly anything yet.  But you must let me come again.  I do want to know all about it.  It is splendidly interesting.”

“Of course, come and go when you like, kiddy.”

“And I’m going to ask some of them to tea with me,” declared Estelle.  “They all love flowers, and I’m going to show them our garden and my pets.  I’ve asked seven of them and two men.”

“Ask me, too.”

She brought out a piece of paper and showed him that she had written down nine names.

“And if they like it, they’ll tell the others and I shall ask them too,” she said.  “Father is always wanting me to spend money, so now I’ll spend some on a beautiful tea.”

Raymond saw the name of Sabina Dinnett.

“I’ll be there to help you,” he promised.

“Nicholas Roberts is the lover of Miss Northover,” explained Estelle, “and Benny Cogle is the lover of Miss Gale.  That’s why I asked them.  I very nearly went back and asked Mister Baggs to come, because he seems a silent, sad man; but I was rather frightened of him.”

“Don’t ask him; he’s an old bear,” declared Raymond.

Thus, forgetting his brother as though Daniel had ceased to exist, he threw himself into Estelle’s enterprise and planned an entertainment that must at least have rendered the master uneasy.

CHAPTER IX

THE PARTY

Arthur Waldron did more than love his daughter.  He bore to her almost a superstitious reverence, as for one made of superior flesh and blood.  He held her in some sort a reincarnation of his wife and took no credit for her cleverness himself.  Yet he did not spoil her, for her nature was proof against that.

Estelle, though old for her age, could not be called a prig.  She developed an abstract interest in life as her intellect unfolded to accept its wonders and mysteries, yet she remained young in mind as well as body, and was always very glad to meet others of her own age.  The mill girls were indeed older than she, but Mr. Waldron’s daughter found their minds as young as her own in such subjects as interested her, though there were many things hidden from her that life had taught them.