“Ah, but the funny thing about it is that I did send it. My commissionaire is probably at this moment scouring London to find Marsten and get it back. It would be rather a turning of the tables if Marsten, in revenge, were to publish the letter. I don’t think he will do it, but one can never tell. I confess it would be a strong temptation to me, were I in his place; however, I hope for the best, and have charged the commissionaire to get him to do nothing about it until after he has seen me.” “Do you still intend to offer him a place in the works?” “That will depend. If his experience has driven all the visionary nonsense about the regeneration of the workingman out of his head, he will be a most valuable man for any firm to have in its service. I will see how the land lies when I talk with him.” “You have no feeling against him then, father?” “None in the least. Just the opposite. I have the greatest admiration for the way he conducted the fight.” “You will not resign, will you?” Sartwell laughed. “I think not. There will be a lot to do, and I shall want to be in the thick of it. No, our Continental trip is postponed, Edna. Why, my girl, you’ve been crying, all alone here by yourself! Tut, tut, Edna, that will never do! I thought you had more courage than myself--not that I’ve had any too much these last few days. Go to bed, girlie, and have a good sleep. I want to be off early in the morning, so you may have the privilege of being my sole companion at breakfast. Good-night, my dear,” he added, kissing her, “and here’s luck to all our future battles!” Edna was the first afoot in the morning, and the night’s sleep, short as it was, had smoothed away all traces of the emotion of the night before. Youth has a glorious recuperative power, and Sartwell, when a little later he came wearily down the stair, showed that sleep had not dipped him in the fountain of it. Even the conqueror has to pay some tribute for the victory. He seemed tired as he took his place at the breakfast-table and unfolded the morning paper. Years of not too congenial married life had developed in him the reprehensible habit of reading his paper while he sipped his coffee, and not even the presence of his daughter opposite him could break him of the vice; although he had the grace to apologize, which he sometimes forgot to do when his wife was pouring the coffee. “I just want to see if the paper has anything to say about the ending of the strike, my dear.” She smiled at him, and asked him to read what the paper said. A moment later she was startled by an exclamation from him. “Good heavens!” he cried. “I had no idea of this! There seems to have been a riot at the meeting--five men arrested, and two in the hospital--Marsten--by Jove!--trampled under foot--never regained consciousness--life in grave danger! I say, Edna, this is serious!”