The establishment was a model one of its kind. In extent and completeness it had no superior, if a rival, in the country, and the owner took a justifiable pride in showing it. It covered several acres, and the buildings were fine ones of brick, with slate roofs, and some pretensions to architectural beauty. Gildersleeve led Edna first to a detached room well lighted, neat, and quiet as a boudoir, with a vine trailing over the glass roof. This was the engine-room, where tireless monsters of polished steel and brass, with gigantic fly-wheels and darting pistons, worked noiselessly and exactly as a chronometer, and enabled the proprietor to be consistently independent of the water-power if he chose. Then they went to the foundry--a fearful place, where begrimed men, hideous in the glare of furnace flames, ran dragging pots of molten iron like Cyclops, while the ground trembled beneath the titanic blows of trip-hammers; next to the boiler-shop, where Edna was almost deafened; and to the machine-shop, a long room filled with whirling shafts, gearing, and lathes innumerable, where she was greatly amazed at the wonderful planes that sliced off glossy ribbons of steel, and the powerful shears and punches that cut the tough metal like pasteboard. Edna was much impressed by what she saw. She was struck with the many evidences around her of human skill and power. The admirable adaptation and complete control of superhuman forces seemed to her sublime, and she wondered that the presiding genius of such a marvellous palace of art could be the ordinary mortal beside her. Had Edna been an older judge of human nature, she would have discovered that George Gildersleeve was anything but an ordinary man. True, he was uneducated, rough, overweeningly vain, without tact; his fibre coarse and vigorous as a buffalo's, but his tenacity of will, love of order, vigilance, and business shrewdness were remarkable, and capable of conquering success in almost any department of life. His vigilance and love of order had not escaped Edna's notice, for as they went along, she remarked that his searching glances were directed everywhere, and she was amused to see him pick up a nail from the floor, and at another time reprimand an apprentice severely because a small bit of cotton waste had been left on the bright oil-cloth of the engine-room. "Who suggested the name of your Works, Mr. Gildersleeve?" said Edna. "Oh! that was Mark's notion. When we rebuilt them, I wanted to name them the George Washington Works, but I concluded that that would be too personal, so I let Mark have his own way, and he named them after Archy Medes. This Archy Medes was an engineer of ancient times, who discovered something in a bath-tub, I don't exactly remember what, but Mark can tell you if you want to know. There he is over there. See him, Miss Heath?"