Another reason was that tenders had lately been called for on works of exceptional magnitude, and he had entertained hopes of obtaining the contract. Again he was worsted by this insidious enemy. Within the last few hours he had heard that Aaron's tender had been accepted. He ground his teeth with rage. He could have undertaken the works in spite of the strike, for he had nearly completed arrangements for the introduction of foreign workmen, whom he was determined to employ if the English workers held out. There would be a row, of course, and the lower classes would cast obloquy upon him, for which he would have to thank his rival enemy. When he heard that he had lost the contract he said to a friend: "I would give half I am worth to drag him down." And he meant what he said, although he probably named a larger percentage than he would be willing to pay. The last meeting of the strikers was now being held. It had been called for seven o'clock, and it was known that the discussion would occupy several hours. Aaron was not asked to attend this discussion, which was to be private, even the representatives of the press not being admitted. Eleven o'clock was the hour at which he was expected, and it was understood that he would bring with him certain propositions from the masters, which, with the workmen's views, were to be discussed, and a decision arrived at. To-morrow morning's papers would announce whether the strike was to be continued or was at an end. He studied the papers before him: the arguments and statements of employers of labor, comparisons of wages here and in foreign countries, the comparative rates of living here and there, documents of every description, among which were pathetic letters from wives of the strikers, imploring him to put an end to the strike. He had mastered them all, and was familiar with every detail, but he wished to divert his attention for this night from his own private affairs. His mind must be free; he would think of them to-morrow. He had public duties to attend to. Before all, duty. The words haunted him. He could think only of his beloved wife and of Ruth. Very well. He had half an hour to spare before he left his house for the Jewish meetings; he would devote the time to a consideration of his private duty. He gathered his papers, arranged them in order, and put them in his pocket. He dallied with them at first, but feeling that he was prolonging the simple task in order to shorten the time for serious thought, he smiled pitifully at his weakness, and completed it expeditiously. In admitting Ruth into his household, in adopting her as a daughter, he had undertaken a sacred responsibility. He was fully conscious of this twenty years ago in Gosport, and what he had done had been done deliberately. It was a question then of the sacrifice of a precious life. The doctor had set it clearly before him.