was　known　that　he　spent　Sundays　and　holidays　in　delightful　places；　to　return
  reddened　and　tanned；　and　though　he　never　spoke　about　these　excursions；　and　put
  on　no　airs　of　superiority；　there　was　that　in　his　manner　and　even　in　the　cut　of
  his　well…worn　suits　proclaiming　him　as　belonging　to　a　sphere　not　theirs；　to　a
  category　of　fortunate　beings　whose　stumbles　are　not　fatal；　who　are　sustained
  from　above。　　Even　Ditmar　was　not　of　these。
  〃I've　just　been　showing　a　lot　of　highbrows　through　the　mill；〃　he　told　Janet。
  〃They　asked　questions　enough　to　swamp　a　professor　of　economics。〃
  And　Janet　was　suddenly　impelled　to　ask：
  〃Will　you　take　me　through　sometime；　Mr。　Caldwell？〃
  〃You've　never　been　through？〃　he　exclaimed。　　〃Why；　we'll　go　now；　if　you　can
  spare　the　time。〃
  Her　face　had　become　scarlet。
  〃Don't　tell　Mr。　Ditmar；〃　she　begged。　　〃You　seehe　wanted　to　take　me　himself。〃
  〃Not　a　word；〃　Caldwell　promised　as　they　left　the　office　together　and　went
  downstairs　to　the　strong　iron　doors　that　led　to　the　Cotton　Department。　　The
  showing　through　of　occasional　visitors　had　grown　rather　tiresome；　but　now　his
  curiosity　and　interest　were　aroused；　he　was　conscious　of　a　keen　stimulation
  when　he　glanced　at　Janet's　face。　　Its　illumination　perplexed　him。　　The　effect
  was　that　of　a　picture　obscurely　hung　and　hitherto　scarcely　noticed　on　which　the
  light　had　suddenly　been　turned。　　It　glowed　with　a　strange　and　disturbing
  radiance。。。。
  As　for　Janet；　she　was　as　one　brought　suddenly　to　the　realization　of　a　miracle
  in　whose　presence　she　had　lived　for　many　years　and　never　before　suspected；　the
  miracle　of　machinery；　of　the　triumph　of　man　over　nature。　　In　the　brief　space　of
  an　hour　she　beheld　the　dirty　bales　flung　off　the　freight　cars　on　the　sidings
  transformed　into　delicate　fabrics　wound　from　the　looms；　cotton　that　only　last
  summer；　perhaps；　while　she　sat　typewriting　at　her　window；　had　been　growing　in
  the　fields　of　the　South。　　She　had　seen　it　torn　by　the　balebreakers；　blown　into
  the　openers；　loosened；　cleansed；　and　dried；　taken　up　by　the　lappers；　pressed
  into　batting；　and　passed　on　to　the　carding　machines；　to　emerge　like　a　wisp　of
  white　smoke　in　a　sliver　and　coil　automatically　in　a　can。　　Once　more　it　was
  flattened　into　a　lap；　given　to　a　comber　that　felt　out　its　fibres；　removing　with
  superhuman　precision　those　for　the　finer　fabric　too　short；　thrusting　it　forth
  again　in　another　filmy　sliver　ready　for　the　drawing　frames。　　Six　of　these
  gossamer　ropes　were　taken　up；　and　again　six。　　Then　came　the　Blubbers　and　the
  roving　frames；　twisting　and　winding；　the　while　maintaining　the　most　delicate　of
  tensions　lest　the　rope　break；　running　the　strands　together　into　a　thread
  constantly　growing　stronger　and　finer；　until　it　was　ready　for　spinning。
  Caldwell　stood　close　to　her；　shouting　his　explanations　in　her　ear；　while　she
  strained　to　follow　them。　　But　she　was　bewildered　and　entranced　by　the
  marvellous　swiftness；　accuracy　and　ease　with　which　each　of　the　complex
  machines；　fed　by　human　hands；　performed　its　function。　　These　human　hands　were
  swift；　too；　as　when　they　thrust　the　bobbins　of　roving　on　the　ringspinning
  frames　to　be　twisted　into　yarn。　　She　saw　a　woman；　in　the　space　of　an　instant；
  mend　a　broken　thread。　　Women　and　boys　were　here；　doffer　boys　to　lift　off　the
  full　bobbins　of　yarn　with　one　hand　and　set　on　the　empty　bobbins　with　the　other：
  while　skilled　workmen；　alert　for　the　first　sign　of　trouble；　followed　up　and
  down　in　its　travels　the　long　frame　of　the　mule…spinner。　　After　the　spinning；
  the　heavy　spools　of　yarn　were　carried　to　a　beam…warper；　standing　alone　like　a
  huge　spider's　web；　where　hundreds　of　threads　were　stretched　symmetrically　and
  wound　evenly；　side　by　side；　on　a　large　cylinder；　forming　the　warp　of　the　fabric
  to　be　woven　on　the　loom。　　First；　however；　this　warp　must　be　stiffened　or
  〃slashed〃　in　starch　and　tallow；　dried　over　heated　drums；　and　finally　wound
  around　one　great　beam　from　which　the　multitude　of　threads　are　taken　up；　one　by
  one；　and　slipped　through　the　eyes　of　the　loom　harnesses　by　women　who　sit　all
  day　under　the　north　windows　overlooking　the　canalthe　〃drawers…in〃　of　whom
  Ditmar　had　spoken。　　Then　the　harnesses　are　put　on　the　loom；　the　threads
  attached　to　the　cylinder　on　which　the　cloth　is　to　be　wound。　　The　looms　absorbed
  and　fascinated　Janet　above　all　else。　　It　seemed　as　if　she　would　never　tire　of
  watching　the　rhythmic　rise　and　fall　of　the　harnesses；each　rapid　movement
  making　a　V　in　the　warp；　within　the　angle　of　which　the　tiny　shuttles　darted　to
  and　fro；　to　and　fro；　carrying　the　thread　that　filled　the　cloth　with　a　swiftness
  so　great　the　eye　could　scarcely　follow　it；　to　be　caught　on　the　other　side　when
  the　angle　closed；　and　flung　back；　and　back　again！　　And　in　the　elaborate
  patterns　not　one；　but　several　harnesses　were　used；　each　awaiting　its　turn　for
  the　impulse　bidding　it　rise　and　fall！。。。　　Abruptly；　as　she　gazed；　one　of　the
  machines　halted；　a　weaver　hurried　up；　searched　the　warp　for　the　broken　thread；
  tied　it；　and　started　the　loom　again。
  〃That's　intelligent　of　it；〃　said　Caldwell；　in　her　ear。　　But　she　could　only　nod
  in　reply。
  The　noise　in　the　weaving　rooms　was　deafening；　the　heat　oppressive。　　She　began
  to　wonder　how　these　men　and　women；　boys　and　girls　bore　the　strain　all　day　long。
  She　had　never　thought　much　about　them　before　save　to　compare　vaguely　their
  drudgery　with　that　from　which　now　she　had　been　emancipated；　but　she　began　to
  feel　a　new　respect；　a　new　concern；　a　new　curiosity　and　interest　as　she　watched
  them　passing　from　place　to　place　with　indifference　between　the　whirling　belts；
  up　and　down　the　narrow　aisles；　flanked　on　either　side　by　that　bewildering；
  clattering　machinery　whose　polished　surfaces　continually　caught　and　flung　back
  the　light　of　the　electric　bulbs　on　the　ceiling。　　How　was　it　possible　to　live
  for　hours　at　a　time　in　this　bedlam　without　losing　presence　of　mind　and
  thrusting　hand　or　body　in　the　wrong　place；　or　becoming　deaf？　　She　had　never
  before　realized　what　mill　work　meant；　though　she　had　read　of　the　accidents。
  But　these　peopleeven　the　childrenseemed　oblivious　to　the　din　and　the
  danger；　intent　on　their　tasks；　unconscious　of　the　presence　of　a　visitor；　save
  occasionally　when　she　caught　a　swift　glance　from　a　woman　or　girl　a　glance；
  perhaps；　of　envy　or　even　of　hostility。　　The　dark；　foreign　faces　glowed；　and
  instantly　grew　dull　again；　and　then　she　was　aware　of　lurking　terrors；　despite
  her　exaltation；　her　sense　now　of　belonging　to　another　world；　a　world　somehow
  associated　with　Ditmar。　　Was　it　not　he　who　had　lifted　her　farther　above　all
  this？　　Was　it　not　by　grace　of　her　association　with　him　she　was　there；　a
  spectator　of　the　toil　beneath？　　Yet　the　terror　persisted。　　She；　presently；
  would　step　out　of　the　noise；　the　oppressive　moist　heat　of　the　drawing　and
  spinning　rooms；　the　constant；　remorseless　menace　of　whirling　wheels　and　cogs
  and　belts。　　But　they？。。。　　She　drew　closer　to　Caldwell's　side。
  〃I　never　knew〃　she　said。　　〃It　must　be　hard　to　work　here。〃
  He　smiled　at　her；　reassuringly。
  〃Oh；　they　don't　mind　it；〃　he　replied。　　〃It's　like　a　health　resort　compared　to
  the　conditions　most　of　them　live　in　at　home。　　Why；　there's　plenty　of
  ventilation　here；　and　you've　got　to　have　a　certain　amount　of　heat　and　moisture；
  because　when　cotton　is　cold　and　dry　it　can't　be　drawn　or　spin；　and　when　it's
  hot　and　dry　the　electricity　is　troublesome。　　If　you　think　this　moisture　is　bad
  you　ought　to　see　a　mill　with　the　old　vapour…pot　system　with　the　steam　shooting
  out　into　the　room。　　Look　here！〃　　He　led　Janet　to　the　apparatus　in　which　the
  pure　air　is　forced　through　wet　cloths；　removing　the　dust；　explaining　how　the
  ventilation　and　humidity　were　regulated　automatically；　how　the　temperature　of
  the　room　was　controlled　by　a　thermostat。
  〃There　isn't　an　agent　in　the　country　who's　more　concerned　about　the　welfare　of
  his　operatives　than　Mr。　Ditmar。　　He's　made　a　study　of　it；　he's　spent　thousands
  of　dollars；　and　as　soon　as　these　machines　became　practical　he　put　'em　in。　　The
  other　day　when　I　was　going　through　the　room　one　of　these　shuttles　flew　off；　as
  they　sometimes　do　when　the　looms　are　running　at　high　speed。　　A　woman　was　pretty
  badly　hurt。　　Ditmar　came　right　down。〃
  〃He　really　cares　about　them；〃　said　Janet。　　She　liked　Caldwell's　praise　of
  Ditmar；　yet　she　spoke　a　little　doubtfully。
  〃Of　course　he　cares。　　But　it's　common　sense　to　make　'em　as　comfortable　and
  happy　as　possibleisn't　it？　　He　won't　stand　for　being　held　up；　and　he'd　be
  stiff　enough　if　it　came　to　a　strike。　　I　don't　blame　him　for　that。　　Do　you？〃
  Janet　was　wondering　how　ruthless　Ditmar　could　be　if　his　will　were　crossed。。。。
  They　had　left　the　room　with　its　noise　and　heat　behind　them　and　were　descending
  the　worn；　oaken　treads　of　the　spiral　stairway　of　a　neighbouring　tower。　　Janet
  shivered　a　little；　and　her　face　seemed　almost　feverish　as　she　turned　to
  Caldwell　and　thanked　him。
  〃Oh；　it　was　a　pleasure；　Miss　Bumpus；〃　he　declared。　　〃And　sometime；　when　you
  want　to　see　the　Print　Works　or　the　Worsted　Department；　let　me　knowI'm　your
  man。　　AndI　won't　mention　it。〃
  She　did　not　answer。　　As　they　made　their　way　back　to　the　office　he　glanced　at
  her　covertly；　astonished　at　the　emotional　effect　in　her　their　tour　had
  produc