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Updated: June 19, 2025


Where was the middle ground? He was willing to give the men a percentage of the profits they made. He did not want great wealth, only an honest return for his invested capital. But he wanted to manage his own business. It was his risk. The coal miners were going out. The Cardews owned coal mines. The miners wanted to work a minimum day for a maximum wage, but the country must have coal.

They had failed to elect him. Every bit of brains, cunning and resource in their organization had been behind him, and they had failed. This matter of hell, now? Suppose one put by something on the other account? Suppose one turned square? Wouldn't that earn something? Suppose that one went to the Cardews and put all his cards on the table, asking nothing in return?

And again, following some vague train of thought, on a crowded street: "The People's voice is a queer thing. 'It is, and it is not, the voice of God. The people's voice, old man. Only the ones that count haven't got a voice." There were, he felt, two Lily Cardews.

Aneta and all the girls of her set, also Kathleen O'Donnell, Rosamond Dacre, Matty and Clara Roache, Janet Barns, the Tristrams, the Cardews, all clustered round the box. "Oh, what fun!" said Kathleen. "A box of dresses for you! You lucky Queen Maggie! How I wish some one would send me some clothes!" "Take them out, dear, and let us look at them," said Mrs. Ward.

To let her stay on there, in that house, after last night " She had never called him "father" before. It seemed to touch him. "You're a good woman, Grace," he said, still heavily. "We Cardews all marry good women, but we don't know how to treat them. Even Howard " His voice trailed off. "No, she can't stay there," he said, after a pause. "But I must tell you she refuses to give up that man."

There was also another piece of good fortune at least so it seemed to the Cardews, whose conversational French was still almost nil Mademoiselle Laplage was unexpectedly absent, the good lady being forced to remain in her room with a sudden, overpowering headache, and pleasant, good-natured Lucy otherwise Miss Johnson took her place. "Perfect freedom to-day, girls," said Miss Johnson.

Perhaps if they had talked more openly I should have been less interested in the Cardews; but the mystery which hung about Brosna and its owners for me had had the effect as I grew up of stimulating my curiosity about them. And now that I knew I did not feel called upon to hate them.

She was a bright, fairly good-looking girl, with exceedingly handsome eyes and curling dark-brown hair. She was somewhat square in build and athletic in all her movements. In short, she was as great a contrast to the twin Cardew girls as could be found. Nevertheless she liked them, and was interested in them; for were not the Cardews the great people of the place?

"Welcome, all four! These are your girls, Mr. Tristram" she singled out Molly and Isabel without being introduced to them. "I know them," she said with a smile, "from their likeness to you. And these are the Cardews. Now, which is Cicely and which Merry? Ah, I think I can tell. This is Merry, is she not?" and she laid her hand on the pretty girl's shoulder.

John, Henrietta and Mary Gibson, the Cardews, the Tristrams, you yourself would put up with me for a single moment if it was known what my mother has done?" "I think you underrate us all," said Aneta. Then she came close to Maggie and took one of her hands. "I want to tell you something," she added. Maggie had never before allowed her hand to remain for a second in Aneta's grasp.

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