cowardly to shirk the chance of pointing out to her the conditions there.”
Mr. Tredegar mused, his eyes still bent on his gently-oscillating foot. Whenever a sufficient pressure from without parted the fog of self-complacency in which he moved, he had a shrewd enough outlook on men and motives; and it may be that the vigorous ring of Amherst’s answer had efected this momentary clearing of the air.
At any rate, his next words were spoken in a more accessible tone. “To what conditions do you refer?”
“To the conditions under which the mill-hands work and live—to the whole management of the mills, in fact, in relation to the people employed.”
“That is a large question. Pardon my possible ignorance—” Mr. Tredegar paused to make sure that his hearer took in the full irony of this—“but surely in this state there are liability and inspection laws for the protection of the operatives?”
“There are such laws, yes—but most of them are either a dead letter, or else so easily evaded that no employer thinks of conforming to them.”
“No employer? Then your specific charge against the Westmore mills is part of a general arraignment of all employers of labour?”
“By no means, sir. I only meant that, where the
hands are well treated, it is due rather to the personal
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