"And do you think it has a moral claim?" Putney drew a long breath. "Well, that's a nice question." He stroked his trousers down over his little thin leg, as he sat. "I have some peculiar notions about corporations. I don't think a manufacturing company is a benevolent institution, exactly. It isn't even a sanitarium. It didn't come for its health; it came to make money, and it makes it by a profit on the people who do its work and the people who buy its wares. Practically, it's just like everything else that earns its bread by the sweat of its capital--neither better nor worse." Launched in this direction, Putney recalled himself with an effort from the prospect of an irrelevant excursion in the fields of speculative economy. "But as I understand, the question is not so much whether the Ponkwasset Mills have a moral claim, as whether you have a moral obligation. And there I can't advise. You would have to go to a clergyman. I can only say that if the property were mine I should hold on to it, and let the company be damned, or whatever could happen to a body that hadn't a soul for that purpose." Putney thrust his hand into his pocket for his tobacco; and then recollected himself, and put it back. "There, Suzette!" said Adeline. Suzette had listened in a restive silence, while Putney was talking with her sister. She said in answer to him: "I don't want advice about that. I wished to know whether I could give up my part of the estate to the company, and if you would do it for me at once." "Oh, certainly," said Putney. "I will go down to Boston to-morrow morning and see their attorney." "Their attorney? I thought you would have to go to Mr. Hilary." "He would send me to their lawyer, I suppose. But I can go to him first, if you wish." "Yes, I do wish it," said the girl. "I don't understand about the company, and I don't care for it. I want to offer the property to Mr. Hilary. Don't say anything but just that I wished to give it up, and my sister consented. Don't say a single word more, no matter what he asks you. Will you?" "I will do exactly what you say," answered Putney. "But you understand, I suppose, don't you, that in order to make the division, the whole place must be sold?" Suzette looked at him in surprise. Adeline wailed out, "The whole place sold?" "Yes; how else could you arrive at the exact value?" "I will keep the house and the grounds, and Suzette may have the farm." Putney shook his head. "I don't believe it could be done. Perhaps--" "Well, then," said Adeline, "I will never let the place be sold in the world. I--" She caught Suzette's eye and faltered, and then went on piteously, "I didn't know what we should have to do when I promised. But I'll keep my promise; yes, I will. We needn't sign the papers to-night, need we, Mr. Putney? It'll do in the morning?" "Oh, yes; just as well," said Putney. "It'll take a little time to draw up the writings." "But you can send word to Mr. Hilary at once?" Suzette asked.