other trades, after suffering much distress.  And, on this account, I would call in Parliament, because then there would be a temporary compensation offered to the temporary sufferers by a far-sighted and, beneficent measure.  Besides, without Parliament, I am afraid the masters could not do it.  The fork-grinders would blow up the machines, and the men who worked them, and their wives and their children, and their lodgers, and their lodgers’ visitors.

“For all that, if your theory of Life, Labor, and Capital is true, all incurably destructive handicrafts ought to give way to machinery, and will, as Man advances.”

CHAPTER XXIII.

“What! eloped?”

“Heaven forbid!  Why, mother, I didn’t say she was alone with him; her father was of the party.”

“Then surely you are distressing yourself more than you need.  She goes to London with her papa, and Mr. Coventry happens to go up the same day; that is really all.”

“Oh, but, mother, it was no accident.  I watched his face, and there was no surprise when he came up with his luggage and saw her.”

Mrs. Little pondered for a minute, and then said, “I dare say all her friends knew she was going up to London to-day; and Mr. Coventry determined to go up the same day.  Why, he is courting her:  my dear Henry, you knew before to-day that you had a rival, and a determined one.  If you go and blame her for his acts, it will be apt to end in his defeating you.”

“Will it?  Then I won’t blame her at all.”

“You had better not till you are quite sure:  it is one way of losing a high-spirited girl.”

“I tell you I won’t.  Mother!”

“Well, dear?”

“When I asked leave to come to the station and see her off, she seemed put out.”

“Did she forbid you?”

“No; but she did not like it somehow.  Ah, she knew beforehand that Coventry would be there.”

“Gently, gently!  She might think it possible, and yet not know it.  More likely it was on account of her father.  You have never told him that you love his daughter?”

“No.”

“And he is rather mercenary:  perhaps that is too strong a word; but, in short, a mere man of the world.  Might it not be that Grace Carden would wish him to learn your attachment either from your lips or from her own, and not detect it in an impetuous young man’s conduct on the platform of a railway, at the tender hour of parting?”

“Oh, how wise you are, and what an insight you have got!  Your words are balm.  But, there—­he is with her for ever so long, and I am here all alone.”

“Not quite alone, love; your counselor is by your side, and may, perhaps, show you how to turn this to your advantage.  You write to her every day, and then the postman will be a powerful rival to Mr. Coventry, perhaps a more powerful one than Mr. Coventry to you.”