Sarah's School Friend Part 15

In a moment Horatia's arms were round her. 'Oh Sarah! don't be angry and horrid, and don't mind what I said. Forget it all.'

Sarah turned with wet eyes. 'I dare say you're right, and I am horrid and contemptible; but you don't understand,' she said.

'Yes I do, a little; but why should you think so much about education and t.i.tles and things? They don't really matter, or make you happy; and papa says they're going quite out of fas.h.i.+on,' said Horatia, with a merry laugh, as she gave Sarah a final goodnight hug.

CHAPTER XI.

HORATIA SPEAKS OUT.

One thing Sarah had learnt from Horatia, and that was to be outwardly respectful to her father, whatever she might inwardly feel towards him.

It is true, she had been told the same thing by her mother and brother; but one word from her schoolfellow had had more effect than all her brother's arguments or her mother's scoldings.

The next morning dawned cold and rainy; and Sarah was surprised to find that for once the bad weather did not depress her, and the prospect of a day in the house, which she generally dreaded, rather pleased her than otherwise. The fact was that Sarah was glad her father's plans for the day were put an end to. 'He's sure to have thought of something quite unsuitable, that Horatia would not like,' she said to herself.

'Isn't this horrid, Sarah?' cried Horatia when the two met at breakfast, and the rain was falling faster.

'It's a bore; but I dare say we can find something to do,' said Sarah, after looking out of the window and seeing no prospect of better weather.

'It 'as turned quite cold; one might think it was autumn,' complained Mrs Clay, rubbing her hands. 'That's the worst o' our climate, never two days alike. I'm sure I'm starved in this dress; an' so must you be, my dear,'

she added to Horatia. 'Starved' is Yorks.h.i.+re for 'cold.'

'I'm dreadfully sorry,' said Horatia, who was always in extremes of joy or sorrow; 'because of Mr Clay's lovely plan, which can't come off now.'

'What was it?' demanded Sarah, who imagined from her way of speaking that Horatia knew and liked the plan.

'I don't in the least know; but I'm quite sure it would have been lovely, and now we can't do it,' she replied.

'I'm not so sure about that,' remarked Mrs Clay.

'Oh, what is it? Do tell me!' cried Horatia.

'I don't think Mr Clay would like me to; but I think 'e'll be in by the time you've 'ad your breakfast, an' before it, if you go on as you're doin', my dear, not eatin' anythin',' she put in; for Horatia, in her excitement, had put down her knife and fork, and was letting her breakfast get cold while she questioned her hostess.

'Hasn't father gone to the mill?' asked Sarah.

'No; 'e's busy over this plan,' replied his wife, smiling at Horatia, and adding, 'It's not often 'e breaks 'is 'abit of goin' to the mill by nine o'clock, for all 'e's so rich, so you must take that as a compliment, my dear.'

'I do. I think it's most awfully kind of him, and I'm simply dying to know what his plan is,' cried Horatia.

'You look anything but dying,' said Sarah, with a glance at Horatia's bright, eager face.

'If you please, ma'am, the master has sent word that he'd be glad if the young ladies would come to the barn as soon as they've finished breakfast,' announced Sykes.

Both girls looked in surprise at this request--which, however, they both prepared to carry out; and Sarah remarked that Sykes looked quite excited for him.

'It's the plan! What on earth can it be, Sarah? What kind of place is the barn?'

'A huge, ugly, dark, long room,' said Sarah in disgust, for the barn was the last place to amuse one's self in.

'Oh, then, your father is having a magic-lantern show for us. Well, it's very kind of him,' said Horatia in rather disappointed tones, for she was not fond of a magic-lantern.

'We'd better drive there; it will be wet across the gra.s.s. Put on your 'ats an' take wraps wi' you in case you get 'ot, for the barn may be draughty,' said Mrs Clay.

'Are you coming, mother?' said Sarah.

'Yes, my dear, if you don't mind. I sha'n't interfere wi' your pleasure, an' I'd like to see the magic-lantern, too,' said Mrs. Clay quite gaily for her.

'Of course, come along. Perhaps Nancy might come too; she'd like to see it.'

'If she goes, Naomi might as well go too; it's absurd to have a magic-lantern for three people,' said Sarah.

Mrs Clay said no more, but put on the cloak her maid brought her, and sat there smiling, in what Sarah considered rather an aggravating way, till the large motor which was to take them all to the barn drove up to the door.

Two minutes brought them to the barn-door.

'Why, there's a band!' cried Horatia; 'or is it a gramophone?'

The door flew open as if by magic when they appeared, and even Sarah gave a cry of admiration as Horatia, clapping her hands, exclaimed, 'Why, it's a rink!--a lovely rink!'

'It is,' said Sarah, and said no more.

'It's better than a magic-lantern, isn't it, my dear?' inquired Mrs Clay with a happy smile.

'Oh Mr. Clay, you are good!' cried Horatia, as she laid her little hand in his huge, rough one.

The millionaire held it for a moment as he said, 'That's all right.

You're more than welcome, my little la.s.s. Now, let's see you play this new-fangled game.'

'But how did you do it? When was it done? You must have had it done since I spoke two days ago,' declared Horatia.

'How did I do it? I did it by turning a golden key, my la.s.s. There's few things that that can't do,' he replied with a rough laugh.

'I should never have imagined that the barn could have been made so pretty and artistic. It was very clever of you to think of it, father,'

said Sarah.

The millionaire looked pleased. Perhaps these few words of his proud daughter gave him more satisfaction than all Horatia's delighted thanks, for Sarah was hard to please, and her father always felt that she secretly, and sometimes openly, despised him; but he only said, 'You didn't think your rough, old father knew what dainty young ladies like you and Miss Horatia would like, did you?'

Sarah coloured, for this was exactly what she had thought; but she replied, 'Then I was mistaken, for it is just the thing for this nasty, cold weather.--Isn't it, Horatia?'

'Yes; but my roller-skates! I have left them at home. I never thought I should get skating up here,' said Horatia suddenly, and her face fell.

'You can have mine. I'll send to the house for them, and we can get a pair in Ousebank for me,' said Sarah.

'I think we can manage that,' said the millionaire, as he made a sign to the footman, who brought two beautiful pairs of roller-skates, and prepared to put them on.