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And so the two old men talked on, and their talk was of Captain Tom. No wonder when the old preacher mounted his horse to go back to his little cabin, all of his thoughts were of Captain Tom. No wonder Uncle Bisco, who had raised him, went to bed and dreamed of Captain Tom dreamed and saw again the bloody Franklin fight. In the library, Travis and Mrs. Westmore sat for some time in silence.
Is there no one to stand between Truscomb and the operatives?" "Oh, the company, on paper, shows the usual official hierarchy. Richard Westmore, of course, was president, and since his death the former treasurer Halford Gaines has replaced him, and his son, Westmore Gaines, has been appointed treasurer. You can see by the names that it's all in the family.
She knew also that rumours of the disagreement about Westmore were abroad, and the suspicion that Amherst's conduct was the subject of unfriendly comment provoked in her a reaction of loyalty to his ideas.... From this turmoil of conflicting influences only her friendship with Justine Brent remained secure.
Truscomb, I mean, and poor Dillon. This mild weather is all in their favour, and I hope my brother-in-law will be about in a day or two." He passed on with a nod. Amherst was once more shown into the library where he had found Mrs. Westmore that morning; but on this occasion it was Mr. Tredegar who rose to meet him, and curtly waved him to a seat at a respectful distance from his own.
The full development of Amherst's plans at Westmore, besides resulting, as he had foreseen, in Truscomb's resignation, and in Halford Gaines's outspoken resistance to the new policy, had necessitated a larger immediate outlay of capital than the first estimates demanded, and Amherst, in putting his case to Bessy, was prepared to have her meet it on the old ground of the disapproval of all her advisers.
Only one little pulse of self-pity continued to beat in her, trembling out at last on the cry: "Ah, I know it's not because you care so much for Westmore it's only because you want to get away from me!" Amherst stared as if her words had flashed a light into the darkest windings of his misery. "Yes I want to get away..." he said; and he turned and walked out of the room.
And how it hurt him! It was the breaking of a link in the chain of his life. Twice had he written to her. But each time his notes came back unopened. Twice had he gone to Westmoreland to see her. Mrs. Westmore met him at the door, cordial, sympathetic, but with a nervous jerk in the little metallic laugh. His first glance at her told him she knew everything and yet, knew nothing.
Tredegar he was no more than an underling, without authority to speak in his superior's absence; and the lack of an official warrant, which he could have disregarded in appealing to Mrs. Westmore, made it hard for him to find a good opening in addressing her representative. He saw, too, from Mr.
At last the note for which he waited had been struck. "Won't you try to now you're here? There's so much worth knowing," he broke out impetuously. Mrs. Westmore coloured, but rather with surprise than displeasure. "I'm very stupid I've no head for business but I will try to," she said. "It's not business that I mean; it's the personal relation just the thing the business point of view leaves out.
Leaving the sleigh, Mr. Westmore strode over to where the three were standing and laid his hand upon the rope. "What's the meaning of this, Pete?" he asked. "Why are you troubling this family?" "It's them that's troublin' me, sir," was the reply. "I'm jist here on bizness, an' it's bizness I mean.
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