Free Black Rainbow by KATHY Page A

to cover a smile or a yawn.
    "We are boring the ladies, Belts," Edmund said with an uneasy laugh. "We agreed to leave business at the table."
    "Mr. Belts has no other topic of conversation," said Jane. "Perhaps he has some diverting tales to tell about the children who work from dawn till dark in his establishment, and how much he pays the floggers who whip them when they drowse over the looms."
    The two ladies on the couch gasped in unison. They seemed more shocked by Jane's reference to such cruelties than by Belts's commission of them. The icy hatred in Jane's voice made a slight dent in Belts's armor of complacency; with what he obviously believed to be a conciliatory manner, he exclaimed, "Now, Miss Jane, ye dasn't believe all the rubbishy tales ye hear. Them childern is in my debt and they know it. Mostly they's the sole support of t' family. They'd starve without the wages I pay 'em, no doubt o' that."
    Lord Henry made another valiant attempt to rescue the conversation. "Mr. Belts, I am as bored as the ladies. Perhaps one of them would favor us with a little music, to sweeten the evening."
    Belts was not so easily distracted. He suffered from the delusion common to all boors, that his viewpoint was the only right one and that repetition in a loud-enough voice would eventually convince his hearers.
    "Ay, ay, music is well enough, but Miss Jane mun get over her fancies. Just look at how she's run your mill, Mandeville; she's a contriving lass, for a female, but females has no place in business. That mill suld be fetching five times the brass. Happen it'll be different when I take it on."
    Edmund sprang to his feet. Jane followed suit, more slowly. Her face was as gray as her dress. The others looked on in bewilderment. The attitudes of brother and sister, betraying guilty consternation on one side and horrified shock on the other, indicated that something appalling had occurred, but no one fully comprehended why Belts's statement had produced such a reaction. Megan understood better than the others. Her heart went out to Jane.
    For the first time Jane addressed Belts directly.
    "Say that again."
    "This is not the time or the place," Edmund exclaimed. "Belts, you assured me—"
    "What's the odds, 'twill come out soon enough," Belts said blandly. "Don't worry your head, Miss Jane; I'm giving a good price, enough to buy all the pretties and fripperies a lass's heart desires."
    Jane flinched as if she had been struck a blow in the face. She looked so ghastly that Megan hastened to her side. Jane pushed her helping hand away.
    "You shall not have it," she said. "I won't give it up. Not without a fight." Her head high, she walked out of the room.
    Belts chuckled. "She's a sperrited little thing, an't she? I like a lass who stands up to me."
    The awkward silence was broken by Lord Henry. "Curse it, Belts, I refuse to allow you to ruin the entire evening. Not another word out of you. Edmund—to the instrument, sir, at once! Georgina, you sing loudly enough to drown out even Mr. Belts. Or perhaps Miss O'Neill will favor us."
    Edmund stood staring with a hangdog expression at the door through which his sister had exited. Megan almost disliked him at that moment.
    "I think, if Mr. Mandeville agrees, that I should take Lina upstairs," she said quietly. "It is past her bedtime by a great deal."
    Edmund started. "Oh—yes. Thank you, Miss O'Neill."
    He picked up the child and handed her over. For a moment, while Lina's body shielded him from other eyes, Megan saw his true feelings, and her anger evaporated. He was genuinely sorry. It wasn't his fault that Belts behaved like a boor.
    A S soon as she had delivered Lina to Rose, Megan went to Jane's door and knocked. There was no verbal reply, but after a long interval the door opened.
    She had expected to find Jane prostrate, in a flood of tears, responsive to sympathetic murmurs and pats on the shoulder. The stony, controlled face that confronted her left her at a loss for