And the affair cost Horace a good deal besides money. Butwhat could Horace do？ He decidedly would not have wishedto wreck the happiness of two young and beautiful lives， evenhad he possessed the power to do so. And he did not possessthe power. Those two did not consult Horace before falling inlove. They merely fell in love， and there was an end of it—andan end of Horace too！ Horace had to suffer. He did suffer.
Perhaps it was for his highest welfare that other matterscame to monopolize his mind. One sorrow drives out another.
If you sit on a pin you are apt to forget that you have thetoothache. The earthenware manufactory was not going well.
Plenty of business was being done， but not at the right prices.
Crushed between the upper and nether millstones of theMcKinley Tariff and German competition， Horace， in companywith other manufacturers， was breathing out his life’s bloodin the shape of capital. The truth was that he had never hadenough capital. He had heavily mortgaged the house at ToftEnd in order to purchase his partners’ shares in the businessand have the whole undertaking to himself， and he profoundlyregretted it. He needed every penny that he could collect；the strictest economy was necessary if he meant to survivethe struggle. And here he was paying eight pounds a weekto a personage purely ornamental， after having squanderedhundreds in rendering that personage comfortable！ Thesituation was dreadful.
You may ask， Why did he not explain the situation to Sidney？
Well， partly because he was too kind， and partly because hewas too proud， and partly because Sidney would not haveunderstood. Horace fought on， keeping up a position in thetown and hoping that miracles would occur.
Then Ella’s expectations were realized. Sidney and she hadsome twenty thousand pounds to play with. And they playedthe most agreeable games. But not in Bursley. No. They leftHorace in Bursley and went to Llandudno for a spell. Horaceenvied them， but he saw them off at the station as an elderbrother should， and tipped the porters.
Certainly he was relieved of the formality of paying eightpounds a week to his brother. But this did not help him much. Thesad fact was that ‘things’ （by which is meant fate， circumstances，credit， and so on） had gone too far. It was no longer a question ofeight pounds a week； it was a question of final ruin.
Surely he might have borrowed money from Sidney？ Sidneyhad no money； the money was Ella’s， and Horace could nothave brought himself to borrow money from a woman—fromElla， from a heavenly creature who always had a soothingsympathetic word for him. That would have been to takeadvantage of Ella. No， if you suggest such a thing， you do notknow Horace.
I stated in the beginning that he had no faults. He wastherefore absolutely honest. And he called his creditorstogether while he could yet pay them twenty shillings in thepound. It was a noble act， rare enough in the Five Towns andin other parts of England. But he received no praise for it. Hehad only done what every man in his position ought to do. IfHorace had failed for ten times the sum that his debts actuallydid amount to， and then paid two shillings in the pound insteadof twenty， he would have made a stir in the world and beenlooked up to as no ordinary man of business.
Having settled his affairs in this humdrum， idiotic manner，Horace took a third-class return to Llandudno. Sidney and Ellawere staying at the hydro with the strange Welsh name， andhe found Sidney lolling on the sunshiny beach in front of thehydro discoursing on the banjo to himself. When asked wherehis wife was， Sidney replied that she was lying down， and wasobliged to rest as much as possible.
Horace， ashamed to trouble this domestic idyl， related hismisfortunes as airily as he could.
And Sidney said he was awfully sorry， and had no notionhow matters stood， and could he do anything for Horace？ If so，Horace might—
‘No，’ said Horace. ‘I’m all right. I’ve very fortunately gotan excellent place as manager in a big new manufactory inGermany.’ （This is how we deal with German competition inthe Five Towns.）
‘Germany？’ cried Sidney.
‘Yes，’ said Horace； ‘and I start the day after tomorrow.’
‘Well，’ said Sidney， ‘at any rate You’ll stay the night.’
‘thanks，’ said Horace， ‘you’re very kind. I will.’