By the next morning a certain was restored.  
It was only in this relative calm that the Clayhanger family and its began to realise the of the experience through which they had passed, and, in particular, the strain of waiting for events after the printing office had been abandoned by its . The of what had happened, and of what might have happened, had spread about the in an instant, and in another instant all the women had collected in the yard; even Miss Ingamells had betrayed the sacred charge of the shop. Ten people were in the yard, staring at the window on the first-floor and listening for ruin. Some time had elapsed before Darius would allow anybody even to mount the steps. Then the , the of the ground-floor, had had to be fetched. A pleasant, man, he had consented in advance to every suggestion; he had practically made Darius a present of the ground-floor, if Darius the courage to go into it, or to send others into it. The seat of deliberation had then been transferred to the behind. And the jobbing builder and carpenters had been fetched, and there was a of tremendous length and solemnity. For hours nothing definite seemed to happen; no one ate or drank, and the current of life at the corner of Trafalgar Road and Wedgwood Street ceased to flow. Boys and men who had heard of the affair, and who had the divine gift of curiosity, gazed in at the ‘No Admittance’ notice on the ramshackle double gates in Woodisun Bank. It seemed that they might never be rewarded, but their great faith was when a hand-cart, bearing several beams three yards long, halted at the gates and was, after a pause, pushed past them and round the corner into the alley and up the alley. The alley had been to witness the taking of the beams into the baker’s storeroom. If the floor above had to yield, the noble, carpenters would have been crushed beneath tons of . At length a forest of pillars stood planted on the ground-floor amid the baker’s ; every beam was duly supported, and the experts pronounced that was now inconceivable. Lastly, the tackle on the Demy Columbian had been loosed, and the machine, slightly , permitted gently to sink to full rest on the floor: and the result justified the experts.
 
Two.
By this time people had started to eat, but informally, as it were apologetically—Passover meals. Evening was at hand. The Clayhangers, later, had met at table. A strange repast! A strange father! The children had difficulty in speaking naturally. And then Mrs Hamps had come, thanking God, and conveying the fact that the town was thrilled and amazed in before her heroical nephew. And yet she had said that she was in no way amazed at her nephew’s coolness; she would have been surprised if he had shown himself even one degree less cool. From a long study of his character she had foreknown infallibly that in such a crisis as had supervened he would behave as he had behaved. This attitude of Auntie Hamps, however, though it reduced the to the ordinary-expected, did not diminish Clara’s of Edwin. From a mocker, the child had been temporarily transformed into an hero-worshipper. Mrs Hamps having departed, all the family, including Darius, had earlier than usual.
 
And now, on meeting his father and Big James and Miss Ingamells in the queer peace of the morning, in the after tension, and in the complete realisation of the occurrence, Edwin perceived from the demeanour of all that, by an action extending over perhaps five seconds of time, he had for himself a and permanent respect. Miss Ingamells, when he went into the freshly watered shop before breakfast, greeted him in a new tone, and with startling asked him what he thought she had better do in regard to the addressing of a certain parcel. Edwin considered this odd; he considered it illogical; and one consequence of Miss Ingamells’s quite sincere attitude was that he despised Miss Ingamells for a moral weakling. He knew that he himself was a moral weakling, but he was sure that he could never bend, never , to such a as Miss Ingamells’s; that she was obviously sincere only increased his secret scorn.
 
But his father resembled Miss Ingamells. Edwin had not dreamt that mankind, and especially his father, was characterised by such . And yet, on reflection, had he not always found in his father a , which he could not but look down upon? His father, whom he met crossing the yard, to him almost as he might have spoken to a junior partner. It was more than odd; it was against nature, as Edwin had conceived nature.
 
He was so superior and lofty, yet without intending it, that he made no attempt to put himself in his father’s place. He, in the exciting moments between the first cracking sound and the second, had had a vision of machinery and timber in an abyss at his feet. His father had had a vision far more realistic and terrifying. His father had seen the whole course of his printing business brought to a standstill, and all his dragged out of him to pay for and for new machinery. His father had seen loss of life which might be accounted to his . His father had seen, with that which may overtake anybody in a crisis, the ruin of a career, the final of his lifelong daring and , and the end of everything. And then he had seen his son suddenly walk and save the situation. He had always looked down upon that son as helpless, coddled, of initiative or of boldness. He believed himself to be a highly man, and existence had taught him that remarkable men seldom or never have remarkable sons. Again and again had he the tendency of remarkable men to and idle fools. Nevertheless, he had intensely desired to be able to be proud of his son. He had intensely desired to be able, when acquaintances should be sincerely enthusiastic about the merits of his son, to pretend, insincerely and with pride only half , that his son was quite an ordinary youth.
 
Now his desire had been fulfilled; it had been more than fulfilled. The town would about Edwin’s presence of mind for a week. Edwin’s act would become historic; it already was historic. And not only was the act in itself wonderful and admirable and epoch-making; but it proved that Edwin, despite his blondness, his finickingness, his , had . That was the point: the lad had grit; there was material in the lad of which much could be made. Add to this, the father’s instinctive —a gratitude of such unguessed depth that it had prevented him even from being ashamed of having publicly and embraced his son on the previous morning.
 
Edwin, in his unconscious egoism, ignored all that.
 
Three.
“I’ve just seen Barlow,” said Darius to Edwin. Barlow was the baker. “He’s been here afore his rounds. He’s willing to me his storeroom—so that’ll be all right! Eh?”
 
“Yes,” said Edwin, seeing that his approval was being sought for.
 
“We must fix that machine again.”
 
“I suppose the floor’s as firm as rocks now?” Edwin suggested.
 
“Eh! Bless ye! Yes!” said his father, with a trace of .
 
The policy of makeshift was to continue. The floor having been stayed with oak, the easiest thing and the least immediately expensive thing was to leave matters as they were. When the baker&............