Robert Lloyd when he came to Rowe was confronted with one of the hardest tasks in the world, that of adjustment to circumstances which had hitherto been out of his imagination.  He had not dreamed of a business life in connection with himself.  Though he had always had a certain admiration for his successful uncle, Norman Lloyd, yet he had always had along with the admiration a recollection of the old tale of the birthright and the mess of pottage.  He had expected to follow the law, like his father, but when he had finished college, about two years after his father’s death, he had to face the unexpected.  The stocks in which the greater part of the elder Lloyd’s money had been invested had depreciated; some of them were for the time being quite worthless as far as income was concerned.  There were two little children—­girls—­by his father’s second marriage, and there was not enough to support them and their mother and allow Robert to continue his reading for the law.  So he pursued, without the slightest hesitation, but with bitter regret, the only course which he saw open before him.  He wrote to his uncle Norman, and was welcomed to a position in his factory with more warmth than he had ever seen displayed by him.  In fact, Norman Lloyd, who had no son of his own, saw with a quickening of his pulses the handsome young fellow of his own race who had in a measure thrown himself upon his protection.  He had never shared his wife’s longing for children as children, and had never cared for Robert when a child; but now, when he was a man grown and bore his name, he appealed to him.

Norman Lloyd was supposed to be heaping up riches, and wild stories of his wealth were told in Rowe.  He gave large sums to public benefactions, and never stinted his wife in her giving within certain limits.  It would have puzzled any one when faced with facts to understand why he had the name of a hard man, but he had it, whether justly or not.  “He’s as hard as nails,” people said.  His employes hated him—­that is, the more turbulent and undisciplined spirits hated him, and the others regarded him as slaves might a stern master.  When Robert started his work in his uncle’s office he started handicapped by this sentiment towards his uncle.  He looked like his uncle, he talked like him, he had his same gentle stiffness, he was never unduly familiar.  He was at once placed in the same category by the workmen.

Robert Lloyd did not concern himself in the least as to what the employes in his uncle’s factory thought of him.  Nothing was more completely out of his mind.  He was conscious of standing on a firm base of philanthropic principle, and if ever these men came directly under his control, he was resolved to do his duty by them so far as in him lay.

Ellen, since her graduation, had been like an animal which circles about in its endeavors to find its best and natural place of settlement.

“What shall I do next?” she had said to her mother.  “Shall I go to work, or shall I try to find a school somewhere in the fall, or shall I stay here, and help you with some work I can do at home?  I know father cannot afford to support me always at home.”