The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1880-08-14
The Mill-Hand.

Gilbert Falconer sat in his library, sur
rounded by all the appurtenances Of wealth
he was the wealthiest man In Brinsley-
but his attitude was llstless, his brows were
drawn; sharp struggle was going on be-
tween his heart and his pride.
''What has come over me, he muttered.
II am as infatuated as any old fool think
ing, worrying, fretting, and for what2 A
beggar maid with pair Of wlnsome eyes
a beggar low. born most likely. What am
l thinking Of" starting up vehemently, 6"
Gilbert Falconer, who could mate with the
proudest in the country to have fallen so
low3 What would my proud mother says
How naughty Bcatrix. Lenox would snecr.
I'll crush it out. will. I'm no love sick
boy"
But some things are easier said than
done, and this was one of them, Us NJ Fal-
coner found to his cost, though she was
only an operator in one of the mills, slen-
der, dark-eyed maiden who, though beg
gar maid, carried her small head, with the
grace and pride Of a queen.
He could never forget the first time he
saw her. Some orders had been disobeyed,
but the consequences were scarcely serious
enough to deserve the sharp rcbuke the
irate master gave; and upon an attempt at
defence, Mr.. Falconer laid his riding whip
several times over the mans shoulders.
"Go," he shouted, with an oath, "and
never show your face in this yard againl"
1t was hard sentence, for the man had a
wife aud children, and the master never
broke his word or commuted sentence.
As Mir. Falconer turned away, still flush
ed with anger, a slender figure passed him,
nj rlr f,,n IL,
eyes that were positively blazing with
anger; q rapid glance at the unfortunate
culprlt skulking out of the gale, then at
him, showed which way her sympathy lay
'Do you KNOW she cried, suddenly
pausing, "that that man has q wife and
five children all dependent on what he
earns here2 Surely you did not mean what
you SAID. The offense scarce deserved such
severe punishment.
Dir. Falconer was fairly aghast al such
unparalleled audacity. Never in his life
had any one dared to call him to account
for any of his actions. ...
~ am not in the habit of consulting the
opinion of my employees when punish i'm
pertinence," he said sharply.
The small head went up into the air with
gesture that would have done credit to
Miss Lenox.
s'No," she answered proudly; "but Mr..
Falconcr may have something to say about
1t when he learns what a destitute condt-
tion that man IS in.''
II am Mr.. Falconer,' he answered. 81
am master of this mill, and punish as
please.
"You-Mr. Falconer2' Anger, surprise
and contempt were pictured on her face as
. plainly as on mirror. 's.rhen I have no.
thing more to say" And with slight in
clination of thehead she passed on her way,
Gilbert nothing vaguely that her dress was
of the humblest make.
Who was she2 Such impertnencc,
bendin his brows at the recollection that
she had not asked his pardon at the first
hasty word.
"a mill-hand with that naughty style 2
BAH" he cried, ,strlding into his office, ''she
Is not worth noticing. She may be thank
full | do not send her away"
For several days 1t happened that Mr..
Falconcr was in his Office when the big bell
sounded release for all the tired souls and
bodies IN his employ, and he caught himself
looking for slender figure in a worn dress;
then, meeting her one morning coming in
the gate, was enraged Mt himself for having
bowed, particularly as the dark eyes were
the manager who she was.
"Eleanor Elliot is the name she gave, "
was the answer. 'tShc 'seems above he1
position, however, and she does her work
very WELL"
Mr.. Falconcr almost said don't wish
her here any longer; then something, an
undefnable feeling, checked the words on
his lips; he had to "dree his weird"
After n Hhi1a he took tO cDnipu IN thc
mill every day, and occasionally walked
through the long rooms full of busy men
aud women.
Once he stopped at Eleanor Eliot's side
apd gravely discussed some fabric with the
manager, noticing absently the pretty con.
tour of the small, bent head and the slen.
der, well-kept fingers.
An irresistible desire seized him TO make
her look up. Bending down. he stretched
out his hand and suddenly-how 1t hap.
pencd no one could tell--his hand was
caught In the machinery. In an instant
all was confusion-in an instant the works
were stopped, the wounded member cx-
tracted, but all bruised.
Eleanor's fingers bound the laceratcd
hand up In her own small handkerchief
the master thanking her courteo,lsly; thcr
he drove away in his fine carriage and die
not come to the mill for several days.
some time after the mill operatives had
half holiday. Mr.. Falconer, riding slow
ly through the woods pear his house, motto
cd tie fiutter of woman's dress, rode
closer and saw the outline of fgure ther
gallopinR to the stables, left his horse
and walked rapidly IN the direction of tho
right dress.
Nor was he mistaken. Under the shade
of a wide. spreading tree, her hat or
her lap full of flowers, the sunlight falling
through the leaves on her bonny brown
hair, sat Eleanor Eliot. A small boy, about
two years old, lay with his head In her lap
laughing and throwing his legs about ''pro
miscus, while she pelted him with blos
SONS.
&"Oh |" she cried, kissing HIM "you dear
good little man, what comfort you are Il
:, me-"
The leaves rustled, and Mr. Faicone'