s
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 lass. 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.

'It's just like Cinderella or a fairy pantomime,' cried Horatia, as she
started skimming along the smooth floor.

'My!' cried Naomi to Nancy. 'However can they keep on their feet with
they wheels under their boots?'

'It's habit. Miss Horatia's very fond of the pastime,' replied the nurse,
as she followed her charge with admiring gaze.

But in a moment Sarah joined Horatia, and then the relations between
Nancy and Naomi became strained, for if Horatia rinked well, Sarah rinked
much better.

'Oh, ain't she beautiful on they things? Why, it's like a bird, is that,'
cried Naomi. 'It's a pastime where you want a good figger.'

'For my part, I like well-made, strong-built figures more than such thin
ones,' said Nancy.

'If you'd be calling Miss Sarah thin, I'd have you to know she's not. Her
arms are beautiful and round, and so is she, and it's the grapes that are
sour, Mrs. Nancy,' retorted Naomi.

Mrs. Nancy did not deign even to notice this remark with a look, but with
a slow and dignified step walked over to where Syk