had taken her foolish, ill-balanced life in her own hands.  She remembered every word which she had said to the men on the morning of the strike, and how they had started up and left their machines.  “I did it all,” she told herself.  “I am responsible for it all—­all this suffering, for those hungry little children, for that possible death, for the ruin of another girl.”  Then she told herself, with a stern sense of justice, that back of her responsibility came Robert Lloyd’s.  If he had not cut the wages it would never have been.  It seemed to her that she almost hated him, and that she could not wait to strive to undo the harm which she had done.  She could not wait for morning to come.

She lay awake all night in a fever of impatience.  When she went down-stairs her eyes were brilliant, there were red spots on her cheeks, her lips were tense, her whole face looked as if she were strained for some leap of action.  She took hold of everything she touched with a hard grip.  Her father and mother kept watching her anxiously.  Directly after breakfast Ellen put on her hat and coat.

“What are you going to do?” asked Fanny.

“I am going over to see John Sargent, and ask him to get some other men and go to see Mr. Lloyd, and tell him we are willing to go to work again,” replied Ellen.

Ellen discovered, when she reached the Atkins house, that John Sargent had already resolved upon his course of action.

“The first thing he said when he came in last night was that he couldn’t stand it any longer, and he was going to see the others, and go to Lloyd, and ask him to open the shop on his own terms,” said Abby.  “I told him how we felt about it.”

“Yes, I am ready to go back whenever the factory is opened,” said Ellen.  “I am glad he has gone.”

Ellen did not remain long.  She was anxious to return and finish some wrappers she had on hand.  Abby promised to go over and let her know the result of the interview with Lloyd.

It was not until evening that Abby came over, and John Sargent with her.  Lloyd had not been at home in the morning, and they had been forced to wait until late afternoon.  The two entered the dining-room, where Ellen and her mother sat at work.

Abby spoke at once, and to the point.  “Well,” said she, “the shop’s going to be opened to-morrow.”

“On what terms?” asked Ellen.

“On the boss’s, of course,” replied Abby, in a hard voice.

“It’s the only thing to do,” said Sargent, with a sort of stolid assertion.  “If we are willing to be crushed under the Juggernaut of principle, we haven’t any right to force others under, and that’s what we are doing.”

“Bread without butter is better than no bread at all,” said Abby. 
“We’ve got to live in the sphere in which Providence has placed us.” 
 The girl said “Providence” with a sarcastic emphasis.

Andrew was looking at Sargent.  “Do you think there will be any trouble?” he asked.