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'I mean lying down, with Miss Horatia sitting beside her holding her hand like a daughter,' Naomi corrected herself.
Sarah coloured violently, and Naomi wondered what made her do so. Poor Sarah was being made to feel all round what a poor sort of daughter she was, and she felt irritably that it was only since Horatia came that this fact had been obvious. But Sarah was wrong. Her att.i.tude towards her parents had always been noticeable, and her brother and mother had constantly upbraided her with it; but it was Horatia's coming which had brought this home to her, and she did not like it.
'That will do, Naomi,' she said, giving an impatient tug to the sash that the maid was tying, and she ran lightly down the corridors and the wide marble staircase to the dining-room.
Mr and Mrs Clay and Horatia were all there, and dinner was begun; and Sarah noticed, to her annoyance, that all three were dressed in the clothes they had worn for the picnic. 'Oh, you haven't changed! I have; that's why I am late.'
'We were all too upset to think of dress; we're not like you, above caring about these things,' said her father bitterly.
'Sarah thought you wouldn't like to see 'er in 'er dusty clothes, Mark; an' I would 'ave changed too, only I was so tired I thought you'd excuse me; an' Miss 'Oratia 'ere was too kind to leave me alone, my nerves bein'
upset,' put in Mrs Clay in order to s.h.i.+eld her daughter, and really making things worse by contrasting Sarah's conduct with Horatia's.
'Yes, she's a good, kind la.s.s, is Miss Horatia,' said Mr Clay, giving her a friendly look, as he pressed some favourite dish of his on her.
Sarah had dreaded dinner, being of the same opinion as Naomi that her father would be upset. Indeed, he had looked very much upset and ready for an explosion when she left him in his study; but it was 'Horatia again,' she said to herself, and she thought angrily that Horatia cared nothing about those poor people who had got themselves into trouble.
She was angrier still when Horatia replied, 'I'm not at all good or kind at this minute, for I should like to put all those people I saw in the park into prison.'
'You'll have your wish before long, little la.s.s, for that's where they'll all be,' said Mr Clay.
'Oh, but I shall be very sorry if they really do go to prison. I only wished it from revenge, and, of course, that's a very wrong motive,'
cried Horatia. She looked across at Sarah to help her; but Sarah would not look at her friend or join in the conversation at all.
'I don't know whether it's a wrong motive or not, but I do know that it's necessary to punish those wretches for destroying my property; and punished they will be,' Mr Clay replied.
'There wasn't many o' 'em really doin' that, Mark,' said Mrs Clay timidly.
'They were doing as bad, standing by watching the destruction; and I'll have every man of them clapped into prison,' said the millionaire.
Mrs Clay said no more, and Horatia began to chatter about other things, amusing both Mr and Mrs Clay by her shrewd remarks.
Sarah sat sullenly by, and when dinner was over she went straight up to her room instead of joining the others in the drawing-room. 'They prefer Horatia to me, so let them have her. I'm sure she's welcome to do daughter,' Sarah said to herself. Perhaps finding her place usurped awakened Sarah to the knowledge that she had a place to fill in her home, and that she was not filling it.
The next day Mr Clay went down to his mills as usual, and no word had been said about the events of the day before; but Sarah was not deceived.
Her father, she was sure, was planning his revenge, and sooner or later he would, as he had said, clap his enemies into prison.
Naomi could give her no information on the subject, and Mr Howroyd refused point-blank to discuss the matter. 'You'll hear all there is to hear in time; but it may come before me to be heard, and I can't discuss it with you or any one else.'
The next morning came a very polite letter from Lady Cunningham to Mrs Clay, thanking her for all her kindness to Horatia, and begging that she might return in time to pay a visit to some relatives, who desired that she might accompany her parents, as she was a great favourite.
'I don't wonder at that, my dearie; you'd be welcome anywhere, with your bonny bright face,' said Mrs Clay.
'I sha'n't let you go unless you promise to come again soon,' said Mr Clay, with a heavy attempt at humour.
'Oh, but I am coming! I've enjoyed myself immensely,' cried Horatia willingly.--'Good-bye, Sarah. I shall be so glad to see you back at school. We shall be friends again then as we used to be, sha'n't we?'
'I don't feel as if anything were going to be as it used to be,' said Sarah; but she kissed Horatia very affectionately when they parted.
'I believe it's your doing that mamma sent for us, Nanny,' said Horatia when the two were in the train.
'And if it was, I'm not a bit ashamed of it,' said Nancy stoutly, 'for I couldn't have stayed another night there, starting and trembling at every sound, and dreaming shocking dreams of being burnt alive in my bed.'
'It's awfully selfish of us to come away and let them be burnt alive in their beds, if you think it's at all likely,' remarked Horatia.
'Then I'll have to be selfish, for I don't consider it's any part of my duty to stop and be burnt with them, which it's their own fault in a way, for they do say that Mr Clay's made himself fairly hated by his ways.'
'I don't hate him,' observed Horatia.
'No, miss, so I saw; but however you put up with him and his common ways, let alone his hasty temper, I can't make out. Well, we've seen the last of them, thank goodness! so I'll say nothing against them,' remarked Mrs Nancy with satisfaction.
'I've promised to go and stay with them again soon,' observed Horatia.
'That's if her ladys.h.i.+p allows it,' replied Nancy, in a tone that implied that the mistress wouldn't allow it.
Horatia only laughed. 'It will be nice to see them all again,' she said.
And this time she meant her own family.
CHAPTER XXI.
CLAY'S MILLS PLAYING.
Sarah was sitting in her own room, rather cross with herself for feeling lonely, and trying not to acknowledge, even to herself, that she missed Horatia, or to own that her schoolfellow made things go more smoothly, somehow. It was a stormy-looking morning, and Sarah was wondering what she should do with herself, when she felt a gentle hand placed on her shoulder, and, turning in surprise, saw her brother standing behind her, with his usual pleasant smile on his face.
'Good-morning!' he said, as he kissed her.
'Goodness me, George! Where on earth did you spring from?' she cried in surprise. 'I thought you were in Scotland.'
'So I was till yesterday; in fact, I've only just arrived,' he remarked.
'You've been travelling all night, and you look as fresh and clean as if you'd just dressed for breakfast! But that's just like you. I believe you'd be miserable if you had your hair untidy or your face dirty,' she observed.
'It certainly isn't a pleasant idea. Besides, there is no need for it in this case, seeing that they provide plenty of hot water in the through sleeping-car,' remarked George, seating himself on the window-seat opposite his sister.
'All the same, I should think it would be pleasanter to travel by day.
And what brought you back a week before your time?' Sarah demanded.
'I thought I should like to have a last look at the old home,' he replied dryly. 'I have more affection for it than you have, you see.'
'How did you hear about it?' inquired Sarah.
'I saw something in the papers, and wired to Uncle Howroyd, and he said I had better come back. I meant to come in any case, though, as soon as I saw the papers,' explained George.
'What did the papers say? I haven't seen one, and no one will tell me anything. Uncle Howroyd is worst of all, because, he says, he's a magistrate; but I suppose it's just because I am only a girl, since he will talk to you,' said Sarah.