gravely regarding him she nodded her head in silence and promised him
with a kiss. He set her down, her hand automatically slipping into his
palm again, and together they walked to the factory.

The road made a sharp descent to the interval by the side of the river,
almost affording a bird's-eye view of the buildings below--lines of
workshops of an incredible length, their ventilators like the helmets of
an army of giants.

A freight train was disappearing into one of the warehouses. Long lines
of trucks stood on the sidings outside. Wisps of steam arose in every
direction, curious, palpitating.

From up the river the roar of the falls could just be heard while from
the open windows of the factory came that humming note of industry which,
more than anything else, is like the sound which is sometimes made by a
hive of bees, immediately before a swarm.

It was a scene which always gave Josiah a well-nigh oppressive feeling
of pride and punishment--pride that all this was his, that he was
one of those Spencers who had risen so high above the common run of
man--punishment that he had betrayed the trust which had been handed down
to him, that he had broken the long line of fathers and sons which had
sent the Spencer reputation, with steadily increasing fame, to the
corners of the earth. As he walked down the hall that Saturday morning,
his sombre eyes missing no detail, he felt Mary's fingers tighten around
his hand and, glancing down at her, he saw that her attention, too, was
engrossed by the scene below, her eyes large and bright as children's are
when they listen to a fairy tale.