“Why, John, it goes and goes, and I hardly know where it goes or how it goes, and the mischief of it all is this—­some are getting so used to the Government feeding and clothing them that they’ll think it a hardship when they hev to feed and clothe themselves.”

“Not they, or else they are not men of this countryside.  How is Harry?  I heard a queer story about him and others yesterday.”

“Queer it might be, but it was queer in a good way if it is set against Harry.  What did you hear?”

“That Harry had trained a quartette of singers and that they had given two concerts in Harrow-gate and three in Scarborough and Halifax, and come back with nearly five hundred pounds for the starving mill-hands in Hatton District.”

“That is so—­and I’m thankful to say it!  People were glad to give.  Many were not satisfied with buying tickets; they added a few pounds or shillings as they could spare them.  Lord Thirsk went with the company as finance manager.  People like a lord at the head of anything, and Thirsk is Yorkshire, well known and trusted.”

“No more known and trusted than is Hatton.  I think Harry might have asked me.  It is a pity they did not think of this plan earlier.”

“There may be time enough for the plan to wear itself out yet.”

“No.  We shall have peace and cotton in three months.”

“However can thou say a thing like that?”

“Because I know it.”

Then she looked steadily at him.  He smiled confidently back, and no further doubt troubled her.  “I believe thee, John,” she said, “and I shall act accordingly.”

“You may safely do so, mother.  How is Lucy?” “Quite well, and the new baby is the finest little fellow I ever saw.  Harry says they are going to call him John.  Harry is very fond of thee.”

“To be sure he is and I am fond of him.  I wonder how they manage for cash?  Do you think they need it?  Have they asked you for any?”

“Not a farthing.  Lucy makes the income meet the outgo.  The farm feeds the family and Harry earns more than a little out of the music and song God put into him.”

“A deal depends on a man’s wife, mother.”

“Everything depends on her.  A man must ask his wife whether he is to do well with his life or make a failure of it.  What wilt thou do with thyself while Jane is in London?”

“I am going to stay with you mostly, mother.  There will be painters and paperers and cleaners in my home and a lot of dirt and confusion.”

“Where is thy economy now, John?”

“When God turns again and blesses Hatton, He will come with both hands full.  The mill is in beautiful order, ready for work at any moment.  I will make clean and fair my dwelling; then a blessing may light on both places.”

It was in this spirit he worked and as the days lengthened his hopes and prospects strengthened and there was soon so much to do that he could not afford the time for uncalled anxiety.  He was quickly set at rest about his wife and daughter.  Jane wrote that they had received a most affectionate welcome and that Martha had conquered her uncle and aunt’s household.