Harry’s beauty had a certain local fame; when people spoke of him it was not of Henry Hatton they spoke, they called him “t’ young master,” or more likely, “that handsome lad o’ Hattons.”  He was more popular and better loved than John, because his temper and his position permitted him a greater familiarity with the hands.  They came to John for any solid favor or any necessary information, they came to Harry for help in their ball or cricket games or in any musical entertainment they wished to give.  And Harry on such occasions was their fellow playmate, and took and gave with a pleasant familiarity that was never imposed on.

CHAPTER IV

BROTHERS

The pleasant habit of existence, the sweet fable of Life and Love.

       * * * * *
They sin who tell us Love can die,
With Life all other passions fly,
    Love is indestructible.

* * * * *

    A mother is a mother still, the holiest thing alive.

This afternoon the brothers looked at each other with great love, but there was in it a sense of wariness; and Harry was inclined to bluff what he knew his brother would regard with inconvenient seriousness.

“Will you sit, Harry?  Or are you going at once to mother?  She is a bit anxious about you.”

“I will sit with you half an hour, John.  I want to talk with you.  I am very unhappy.”

“Nay, nay!  You don’t look unhappy, I’m sure; and you have no need to feel so.”

“Indeed, I have.  If a man hates his lifework, he is very likely to hate his life.  You know, John, that I have always hated mills.  The sight of their long chimneys and of the human beings groveling at the bottom of them for their daily bread gives me a heartache.  And the smell of them!  O John, the smell of a mill sickens me!”

“What do you mean, Harry Hatton?”

“I mean the smell of the vaporous rooms, and the boiling soapsuds, and the oil and cotton and the moisture from the hot flesh of a thousand men and women makes the best mill in England a sweating-house of this age of corruption.”

“Harry, who did you hear speak of cotton mills in that foolish way?  Some ranter at a street corner, I suppose.  Hatton mill brings you in good, honest money.  I think little of feelings that slander honest work and honest earnings.”

“John, my dear brother, you must listen to me.  I want to get out of this business, and Eli Naylor and Thomas Henry Naylor will rent my share of the mill.”

“Will they?  No!  Not for all the gold in England!  What are you asking me, Harry Hatton?  Do you think I will shame the good name of Hatton by associating it with scoundrels and blacklegs?  Your father kicked Hezekiah Naylor out of this mill twenty years ago.  Do you think I will take in his sons, and let them share our father’s good name, and the profits of the wonderful business he built up?  I say no!  A downright, upright no!  Why, Harry, you must be off your head to think of such a thing as possible.  It is enough to make father come back from the grave.”