It was to the great weaving-room John went first.  As soon as he stood in the open door he was seen and in a moment, as if by magic, the looms were silenced, and the women and girls were on their feet, looking at him with eager, pleasant faces.  John lifted his hat and said good morning and a shout of welcome greeted him.  Then at some signal the looms resumed their noisy work and the women lifted the chorus from some opera which they had been singing at John’s entrance, and “t’ master’s visit” was over.

He went next to his office, and Jonathan brought his daybook and described, in particular detail, the commercial occurrences which had made the mills’ history during his absence.  Not all of them were satisfactory, and John passed nothing by as trivial.  Where interferences had been made with his usual known methods, he rebuked and revoked them; and in one case where Jonathan had disobeyed his order he insisted on an apology to the person injured by the transaction.

“I told Clough,” he said, “that he should have what credit would put him straight.  You, Jonathan, have been discounting and cutting him down on yarns.  You had no authority to do this.  I don’t like it.  It cannot be.”

“Well, sir, I was looking out for you.  Clough will never straight himself.  Yarns are yarns, and yarns are up in the market; we can use all we hev ourselves.  Clough hes opinions not worth a shilling’s credit.  They are all wrong, sir.”

“His opinions may be wrong, his life is right.”

“Why, sir, he’s nothing but a Radical or a Socialist.”

“Jonathan, I don’t bring politics into business.”

“You’re right, sir.  When I see any of our customers bothering with politics, I begin to watch for their names in t’ bankruptcy list.  Your honorable father, sir, could talk with both Tories and Radicals and fall out with neither.  Then he would pick up his order-book, and forget what side he’d taken or whether he hed been on any side or not.”

“Write to Clough and tell him you were sorry not to fill his last order.  Say that we have now plenty of yarns and will be glad to let him have whatever he wants.”

“Very well, sir.  If he fails—­”

“It may be your fault, Jonathan.  The yarns given him when needed, might have helped him.  Tomorrow they may be too late.”

“I don’t look at things in that way, sir.”

“Jonathan, how do you look at the Naylors’ proposal?”

“As downright impudence.  They hev the money to buy most things they want, but they hevn’t the money among them all to buy a share in your grand old name and your well-known honorable business.  I told Mr. Henry that.”

“However did the Naylors get at Mr. Henry?”

“Through horses, sir.  Mr. Henry loves horses, and he hes an idea that he knows all about them.  I heard Fred Naylor had sold him two racers.  He didn’t sell them for nothing—­you may be sure of that.”