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sung it to a certain tune, that was until she had taken over the business after her father died, when she realized the amount of labour and sweat being constantly expended by the men and women in making the product-and the dirt, especially when soot was required to be used in some processes.George Fields, wending his way towards her, stopped once to give directions to a young girl standing at the end of a table. It was still part of the pattern to show her that he was attending to his business, seeing that the workers were kept on their toes. And likely that little girl knew as much already about polish making as he did.'Good-day to you, Miss Mordaunt. Isn't this a pleasure now. Isn't this a pleasure. Has Joe been looking after you? Have you come to look round?
    Everything's in order, I can assure you. How long is it since your last visit?''Oh'-she put her head on one side-'it might be a month or more. And I'm sure everything's in order, but I happened to be on my way back from Halden Street, so I thought I would just say hello.'
    45'Oh yes.' The old man pouted his lips for a moment and his head bobbed as he said, 'Halden Street.
    Candles. Yes, you would have to look up there. Oh yes, I'm sure you would. Thing's going wrong?'The last was said on a hopeful note, and she shook her head as she replied, 'Oh, no, no. They are wanting an extension made and there was a little meeting, you know.' Her voice trailed off. She knew she must not say that the candle business was booming under the management of Bertram King, who was the antithesis of this old man here. One of the new breed of managers. Men who got things done, but were little loved. And although the profits from the candle factory had gone up by thirty per cent in the last two years, she knew which factory she would prefer. No; that wasn't right: she knew which set of people she would prefer to deal with; often when she visited here the girls Would be joking and laughing; they made light of life, in spite of everything.And then there was Joe.'Would you like to come into the office for a minute? You might like to look through the books yourself. We had two fresh orders 46in last week. The liquid blackin' is doin' well. An' the tins I ordered came on time. Good company that.'Oh, that's splendid. And yes, I'd like to come to the office for a moment, but not necessarily to see the books.'As she continued through the workshop she stopped here and there, saying, 'Hello, Hettie,' or
    'How are you, Tommy? And the family?' Then again, 'Harry, you seem to get taller every time I see you.
    How old are you now? Fifteen? I thought you had been here longer than a year. You have grown.'So it went on, stopping and starting until she reached the office with the little window, half of which was in frosted glass.The old man ushered her into his seat behind the long wooden table on which at one end stood a number of tin boxes, and at the other wooden bases in which skewers were stuck, providing a useful and very practical method of having lists to hand simply by piercing them on the skewers. There were also two thick red-leather-backed ledgers on the table.'Do sit down, George.' She pointed to a wooden chair; but at this suggestion the old
    47man shook his head vigorously, saying, 'Oh. no, miss. Don't worry about me being on my pins; I'm used to that.''Well, you've been on your pins, as you call them, for many more years than you should have been, and you know that. And last year, when your dear wife was so ill, you thought you would like to give up. Now didn't you?''Yes. Yes, I did then, miss, but she's much better, she's much better.''Now, George.' She leaned forward with her forearms on top of one of the ledgers and, looking up at him, she said, 'I'm going to be firm with you: you've got to retire. You should have done it, oh, at least five years ago. But you were so valuable that I didn't press you. Now I'm going to. Now, now.' She wagged a finger at him. I'll see you're well taken care of,