But she was doomed to disappointment. A continued silence still greeted her words. "When people work for you isn't it as though you were their father or their big brother and had to help them when they needed it?" she asked, at length. "Well, it's a new thought that you owe anything to the men who work for you except their wages," said Mr. Bartlett at last. "Why, Drusilla told me that everyone in the world has a little silver chain running from his wrist to his next friend's wrist; it stretches when you run--a fellowship link my father named it when I told him. And the chain runs from my wrist to your wrist and from yours to every other wrist in the world." She leaned closer, finishing earnestly. "And Drusilla says if you break your chain you're really a slave." "Very interesting," commented Mr. Bartlett. "Yes, isn't it?" agreed Suzanna. She returned tenaciously to her subject. "There are many homeless families who weren't welcome where they had to go after the fire. Mary Holmes says her mother took in four people and she says as long as they stay there'll have to be stews, for in that way a pound of meat goes further, and Mary just hates stews." "Well, what is your suggestion of a remedy, Suzanna?" asked Mr. Bartlett. At which question, though put in words beyond her, Suzanna's eyes brightened. She caught the sense unerringly and answered promptly. "Why, I thought _you_ could do something. You have so much room." And then the solution came, out of the sky as often answers came when you didn't expect them. "Why, you could put tents up in your big yards for the homeless people, till their own homes are built again." Mr. Bartlett was greatly amused. "You ask such a little thing, Suzanna." "Yes, isn't it, seeing it'll help out so much?" Suzanna returned innocently. Graham rose and went close to his father. "Father," he said, "who's going to build the new homes for the poor people?" His father answered: "I don't know, I'm sure; but I should think it old John Massey's duty to do so." "Father," asked Graham, after a pause given over to thought and drawing on his memory for what vague facts he knew of his father's business, "if you take less money for your interests in the mill and if you speak to him, do you suppose Mr. Massey would begin at once to build those homes?" His young face was quite white with earnestness and other new emotions struggling up to the surface. Mr. Bartlett looked from one small face to the other. He smiled grimly. They could see nothing but the humanness of a situation, the need existing. Going against all precedent meant nothing to them; they simply followed ridiculous altruistic impulses. Only in their minds was the knowledge that other people were suffering; and the immediate necessity for relief. He let his hand fall upon his son's shoulder. "How about the trip abroad, Graham?" There was an under meaning in his question which Graham got at once. His face lit.