"I'm not hard at all," said John, "and you understand nothing about it. I'm paying three shillings a week more to every man, and eighteen pence a week more to every woman, than I did three years ago." "That's because of the Unions," said the barrister. "I don't care a straw for the Unions. If the Unions interfered with my comfort I'd let the land and leave the place." "Oh, John!" ejaculated John's mother. "I would not consent to be made a slave even for the sake of the country. But the wages had to be raised,--and having raised them I expect to get proper value for my money. If anything has to be given away, let it be given away,--so that the people should know what it is that they receive." "That's just what we don't want to do here," said Lady Wharton, who did not often join in any of these arguments. "You're wrong, my lady," said her stepson. "You're only breeding idleness when you teach people to think that they are earning wages without working for their money. Whatever you do with 'em let 'em know and feel the truth. It'll be the best in the long run." "I'm sometimes happy when I think that I shan't live to see the long run," said the baronet. This was the manner in which they tried to be merry that evening after dinner at Wharton Hall. The two girls sat listening to their seniors in contented silence,--listening or perhaps thinking of their own peculiar troubles, while Arthur Fletcher held some book in his hand which he strove to read with all his might. There was not one there in the room who did not know that it was the wish of the united families that Arthur Fletcher should marry Emily Wharton, and also that Emily had refused him. To Arthur of course the feeling that it was so could not but be an additional vexation; but the knowledge had grown up and had become common in the two families without any power on his part to prevent so disagreeable a condition of affairs. There was not one in that room, unless it was Mary Wharton, who was not more or less angry with Emily, thinking her to be perverse and unreasonable. Even to Mary her cousin's strange obstinacy was matter of surprise and sorrow,--for to her Arthur Fletcher was one of those demigods, who should never be refused, who are not expected to do more than express a wish and be accepted. Her own heart had not strayed that way because she thought but little of herself, knowing herself to be portionless, and believing from long thought on the subject that it was not her destiny to be the wife of any man. She regarded Arthur Fletcher as being of all men the most lovable,--though, knowing her own condition, she did not dream of loving him. It did not become her to be angry with another girl on such a cause;--but she was amazed that Arthur Fletcher should sigh in vain.