Just as the two men parted, Jonathan said, in a kind of afterthought way, “There’s a full meeting of the Gentlemen’s Club tonight, sir.  I suppose you know.”

“Certainly, but how is it you know?”

“You may well ask that, sir.  I am truly nobbut one o’ John Hatton’s overseers, but I hev a son who has married into a landed family, and he told me that some of the old quality were going to propose his father-in-law for membership tonight.  I promised my Ben I would ask your vote in Master Akers’ favor.”

“Akers has bought a deal of land lately, I hear.”

“Most of the old Akers’ Manor back, and there are those who think he ought to be recognized.  I hope you will give him a ball of the right color, sir.”

“Greenwood, I am not well acquainted with Israel Akers.  I see him at the market dinner occasionally, but——­”

“Think of it, sir.  It is mebbe right to believe in a man until you find out he isn’t worthy of trust.”

“That is quite contrary to your usual advice, Greenwood.”

“Privately, sir, I am a very trusting man.  That is my nature—­but in business it is different—­trusting doesn’t work in business, sir.  You know that, sir.”

John nodded an assent, and said, “Look after loom forty, Greenwood.  It was idle.  Find out the reason.  As to Akers, I shall do the kind and just thing, you may rest on that.  Is he a pleasant man personally?”

“I dare say he is pleasant enough at a dinner-table, and I’ll allow that he is varry unpleasant at a piece table in the Town Hall.  But webs of stuff and pieces of cloth naturally lock up a man’s best self.  He wouldn’t hev got back to be Akers of Akerside if things wern’t that way ordered.”

This Club news troubled John.  He did not believe that Akers cared a penny piece for a membership, and pooh-pooh it as he would, this trifling affair would not let him alone.  It gnawed under the great sorrow of Jane’s absence, like a rat gnawing under his bed or chair.

But come what will, time and the hour run through the hardest day; the looms suddenly stopped, the mill was locked, the crowd of workers scattered silently and wearily, and John rode home with a sick sense of sorrow at his heart.  He had no hope that Jane would be there.  He knew the dear, proud woman too well to expect from her such an impossible submission.  Tears sprang to his eyes as he thought of her, and yet there was set before him an inexorable duty which he dared not ignore, for the things of Eternity rested on it.

He left his horse at the stable and walked slowly round to the front of the house.  As he reached the door it was swiftly opened, and in smiles and radiant raiment Jane stood waiting to receive him.

“John!  John, dear!” she said softly, and he took her in his arms and whispered her name over and over on her lips.

“Dinner will be ready in half an hour,” she said, “and it is the dinner you like best of all.  Do not loiter, John.”