Chapter 28

Frank Spencer found the mental atmosphere of Hilcrest in confusion when he returned from his two days’ trip. Margaret had repeated to Mrs. Merideth the substance of what McGinnis had told her, drawing a vivid picture of the little children wearing out their lives in plain sight of the windows of Hilcrest. Mrs. Merideth had been shocked and dismayed, though she hardly knew which she deplored the more—that such conditions existed, or that Margaret should know of them. At Margaret’s avowed determination to go over the mills, and into the operatives’ houses, she lifted her hands in horrified protest, and begged her to report the matter to the Woman’s Guild, and leave the whole thing in charge of the committee.

“But don’t you see that they can’t reach the seat of the trouble?” Margaret had objected. “Why, even that money which I intended for little Maggie went into a general fund, and never reached its specified destination.” And Mrs. Merideth could only sigh and murmur:

“But, my dear, it’s so unnecessary and so dreadful for you to mix yourself up personally with such people!”

When her brother came home, Mrs. Merideth went to him. Frank was a man: surely Frank could do something! But Frank merely grew white and stern, and went off into his own den, shutting himself up away from everybody. The next morning, after a fifteen minute talk with Margaret, he sought his sister. His face was drawn into deep lines, and his eyes looked as if he had not slept.