"Bless me, why is he so touchy?" Blackett was asking himself at the
same moment. "We seem fated to quarrel, Fairburn's family and ours.
Whose is the pride now, I wonder! Fairburn thinks a deal of his
independence, as he calls it; I should call it simply pride, myself.
But I might have known that he wouldn't accept my offer after his
refusal of an inside place with me this morning, and after riding all
those miles from York to-day in the bitter cold. Heigh-ho, the quarrel
won't be of my seeking anyhow."
These two lads were both sons of colliery owners, and both pupils of
the ancient school of St. Peter of York, the most notable foundation
north of the Humber. But there the likeness ended. Matthew Blackett's
father was a rich man and descended from generations of rich men. He
owned a large colliery and employed many men and not a few ships. He
was, moreover, a county magnate, and held his head high on Tyneside.
In politics he was a strong supporter of the Tory party, and had never
been easy under the rule of Dutch William. He was proud and somewhat
arrogant, yet not wanting his good points. George Fairburn, on the
other hand, was the son of a much smaller man, of one, in truth, who
had by his energy and thrift become the proprietor of a small pit, of
which he himself acted as manager.
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