lly was blown to Balmoral.

Then the gong rang, and Horatia, cheery and smiling as ever, went
tripping down the grand staircase to the drawing-room to meet Mrs Clay
and Sarah. This evening, rather to her surprise, Mr Clay was there,
having departed from his usual habit of going straight to the dining-room
and sitting down at the table before the ladies appeared. He came forward
with a _gauche_ gallantry, and offered his arm to Horatia. 'Come, little
lass, I hear you lunched at Howroyd's and went over his mill to-day.
Couldn't you have waited one day more?'

'He didn't want us to,' said Horatia, taking the millionaire's arm with a
simple grace, as if it was quite an ordinary thing for her to go in to
dinner in this style, instead of its being the first time.

'I dare say not. Howroyd was only too proud to get you there. I'm talking
of my mills, which you could have seen just by waiting a day,' explained
Mr Clay.

'Oh, but I am going to see your mills too. I'll come to-morrow if you
will let us. Of course they will be much grander than Mr Howroyd's, so
it was better to see his first and keep the best to the last.'

'Oh ay, our stuff's much grander. We make finer cloth than Howroyd's, and
turn out ten times as much, I'll warrant,' said Mr Clay, with his
boastful laugh.

'I think, my dear, you'd better leave a day between. You can't spend all
these fine days in factories. You look tired out, an' Sarah too,
trapezing up and down greasy, slippery stairs,' protested Mrs Clay.

'The wife's right, and I'd as soon you waited a few days. I don't know
that I want visitors in my mills for a day or so,' chimed in the
millionaire.

Sarah looked searchingly at her father, and did not seem to like what she
saw in his face, for she turned away with a frown. Mrs Clay evidently did
not see anything except that her husband upheld her opinion, and was kind
to her, as he had been ever since Horatia had come to Balmoral.

'Why don't you want visitors, father?' inquired Sarah.

'Because I don't,' said her father shortly.

'I dare say you often don't; in fact, I shouldn't wonder if you would
rather visitors never came, because they must interrupt work dreadfully,'
said Horatia.

'Well, they do interrupt,' agreed the millionaire, glad to find an
excuse, 'and we're just at a busy time for a special Colonial order; but
I'll get you a day when everything is going smoothly.'

'But Uncle Howroyd is just as busy, and everything goes smoo