Chatty drew a long breath. “Then let us sacrifice everything, Charley. That is what my father would do. There need be no hesitation about that; but no, not the ‘works’--we must keep the ‘works.’ Cannot you think of anything that will keep them going for the children’s sake?” she cried. “And then think of all the poor men thrown out of work in the middle of winter!” “We must think of ourselves, Chatty,” her brother said, with a certain indignation. “I do. They would recover in time. They are your life,” she said. “Save them, if it is possible. Don’t give away our life into other hands.” “Then,” said Charley, drawing a long breath--he propped himself up against the mantelshelf with a sort of despairing action--“then,” he said, “there is but one thing else for it, Chatty. We must sell Ellermore.” She stood and gazed at him for a moment with dilating eyes; then she suddenly sat down on the nearest chair. She wanted support of a mechanical kind, as he did. No doubt a vision of her home and all its pleasantness--the place where they had all been born, the centre of their family pride and importance and all their traditions--flashed across her. For a few minutes she made no reply. Then she made an effort to command her voice. “Well,” she said faintly, “well, then, we must make up our minds to it. We must sell Ellermore.” “Chatty,” cried the young man, with the tears in his eyes, “how good it is to have you to talk to! Is that what you say? Keep the ‘works’ and sell Ellermore? It will bring a fancy price, you know. It’s not just like so many acres. Some Englishman”-- “Oh, Charley, don’t torture me!” she cried, in a voice of anguish; then faintly, “The ‘works’ are your life. And there are so many of us--still. We must think of the boys and the little ones--next after our honour and my father’s name.” “That was what I thought,” said Charley, “but I was afraid to say it. I thought you would cry out, Ellermore! Ellermore! and let the ‘works’ take care of themselves.” She looked up at him with a faint smile. “I never knew you took me for a fool before. I suppose it is because I am a woman.” “Chatty, don’t say that!” cried the young man loudly. Such a suggestion begins to rouse the wrath of young men. He almost forgot the gravity of the position in his annoyance.