Within, at that moment, there ensued a little pause, and Sebastian rose, looking thoughtful, and leaning against the mantelpiece. Presently he said, ‘Well, I suppose there is nothing else for it; we had better put up the half-time notice this afternoon.’ ‘Yes. There is nothing else for it,’ echoed Mr. Sutcliffe. ‘It will be no time at all in a few weeks. We can’t hold out much longer.’ ‘Ah!’ said Sebastian, and again seemed to fall into a train of thought, until he said, ‘I wonder how it will all end? What is there in this life of yours, Mr. Sutcliffe, that gives it its interest? I feel more as if I was really living now than I ever did before. The cotton trade is on its last legs, for a time; and a young man who dislikes me has behaved with insubordination and impertinence; and yet, though there is nothing intrinsically interesting in those facts, and no connection between them, I feel intensely interested in both.’ ‘You will excuse my saying it, Mr. Mallory, but it is not discipline to have allowed Heywood to remain a single day in your employment after his openly disobeying an order of yours. It goes very much against my judgment.’ ‘I know it is neither business nor discipline,’ said Sebastian, apologetically; ‘but you must allow me a little tether now and then, till I am more used to run in harness in this way. I am trying an experiment in regard to that young man. It is a delightful diversion from business. How long has he been here, did you say?’ ‘Fifteen years, and his sister eleven. Except in the strike, four years ago, they have never missed a day.’ ‘Exactly, it would decidedly displease me--it would humiliate me to think that a man who had amicably worked fifteen years during my absence should have to--hook it within a fortnight after my arrival. Besides, he is unusually intelligent, and an admirable workman.’ ‘Ay, he is. He could direct and manage if ever he got a rise in life. He has a head on his shoulders as good as any one else’s, but that temper of his will be the ruin of him.’ ‘I don’t know about that,’ said Sebastian, reflectively, as if discoursing with himself. ‘That temper of his--I should dearly like to subdue it.’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Mr. Sutcliffe, to whom this was as so much Sanscrit. Sebastian looked up with a smile. ‘Leave me my own way in this matter, Mr. Sutcliffe. I promise that, if things do not turn out as I expect, I will dismiss Heywood on Monday.’ At this moment Ben put his head in at the door, and remarked, ‘Please, sir, there’s your carriage, and the young gentleman in it, a-come for you; and Heywood, he wants to know if he can speak to you.’ ‘Show him in here, and tell the gentleman I will join him in a few minutes.’ Ben disappeared. Mr. Sutcliffe rose. ‘I’ll leave you alone with your rebel, Mr. Mallory. I shall be curious to know whether he has come to beg pardon, or to give notice.’