"Miss Kendall would like to go over one of the mills," he said quietly, as the young man entered, in response to his ring. "Perhaps you will be her escort." Margaret gave her guardian a grateful look as she left the office. She thought she knew just how much the calm acceptance of the situation had cost him, and she appreciated his unflinching determination to give her actions the sanction of his apparent consent. It was for this that she gave him the grateful glance--but he did not see it. His head was turned away. "And what shall I show you?" asked McGinnis, as the office door closed behind them. "Everything you can," returned Margaret; "everything! But particularly the children." From the first deafening click-clack of the rattling machines she drew back in consternation. "They don't work there--the children!" she cried. For answer he pointed to a little girl not far away. She was standing on a stool, that she might reach her work. Her face was thin and drawn looking, with deep shadows under her eyes, and little hollows where the roses should have been in her cheeks. Her hair was braided and wound tightly about her small head, though at the temples and behind her ears it kinked into rebellious curls that showed what it would like to do if it had a chance. Her ragged little skirts were bound round and round with a stout cord so that the hungry jaws of the machine might not snap at any flying fold or tatter. She did not look up as Margaret paused beside her. She dared not. Her eyes were glued to the whizzing, whirring, clattering thing before her, watching for broken threads or loose ends, the neglect of which might bring down upon her head a snarling reprimand from "de boss" of her department. Margaret learned many things during the next two hours. Conversation was not easy in the clattering din, but some few things her guide explained, and a word or two spoke volumes sometimes. She saw what it meant to be a "doffer," a "reeler," a "silk-twister." She saw what it might mean if the tiny hand that thrust the empty bobbin over the buzzing spindle-point should slip or lose its skill. She saw a little maid of twelve who earned two whole dollars a week, and she saw a smaller girl of ten who, McGinnis said, was with her sister the only support of an invalid mother at home. She saw more, much more, until her mind refused to grasp details and the whole scene became one blurred vision of horror. Later, after a brief rest--she had insisted upon staying--she saw the "day-shift" swarm out into the chill December night, and the "night-shift" come shivering in to take their places; and she grew faint and sick when she saw among them the scores of puny little forms with tired-looking faces and dragging feet. "And they're only beginning!" she moaned, as McGinnis hurried her away. "And they've got to work all night--all night!" CHAPTER XXIX