Still he hesitated, hardly knowing how to begin. To Mr. Tredegar he was no more than an underling, without authority to speak in his superior’s absence; and the lack of an official warrant, which he could have disregarded in appealing to Mrs. Westmore, made it hard for him to find a good opening in addressing her representative. He saw, too, from Mr. Tredegar’s protracted silence, that the latter counted on the efiect of this embarrassment, and was resolved not to minimize it by giving him a lead; and this had the efiect of increasing his caution.
He looked up and met the lawyer’s eye. “Mrs. Westmore,” he began, “asked me to let her know something about the condition of the people at the mills"
Mr. Tredegar raised his hand. “Excuse me,” he said. “I understood from Mrs. Westmore that it was you who asked her permission to call this evening and set forth certain grievances on the part of the operatives.”
Amherst reddened. “I did ask her—yes. But I don’t in any sense represent the operatives. I simply wanted to say a word for them.”
Mr. Tredegar folded his hands again, and crossed one lean little leg over the other, bringing into his line of vision the glossy tip of a patent-leather pump, which
he studied for a moment in silence.
[ 75 ]
