nd the girls left the dining-room.

'Oh my dear, God bless you!' cried Mrs Clay when they were in the
drawing-room, as she took Horatia's hand in hers.

'I didn't do anything; I just amused myself,' said Horatia, laughing.
'But I expected to see quite different men. They looked quite quiet and
respectable.'

'What did you expect them to look like?' demanded Sarah. 'They were
respectable mill-hands, as my father was years ago.'

'But I expected to see wild, fierce men, like those in the French
Revolution, demanding their rights, and brandishing sticks and things.'

'Oh my dear! we ain't come to that, an', please God, we never shall,'
protested Mrs Clay with a shudder.

'They can look wild and fierce. You've only to watch them at a
football-match to see what they'd be like in earnest if they're like that
at play,' said Sarah.

'Then I 'ope I shall never see 'em so,' repeated Mrs Clay.

'And that's what you wanted to do--amuse yourself with the sight of
infuriated Yorkshiremen?' said Sarah, whom some demon seemed to possess
that evening.

Horatia turned indignantly to her. 'I didn't do it for any such reason. I
suppose you think I meddled, and perhaps I did; but I only did it as your
friend, Sarah, and I don't think you're very nice,' she said.

'I can't think w'at's come to you, Sally! Don't be so disagreeable. Miss
Horatia only means to be kind, and we're all much obliged to 'er,' said
Mrs Clay.

'Yes, we are,' said Sarah; 'I expect the men meant mischief; but you have
only done good for to-night. There'll be a row, sooner or later, and then
father'll have to stand firm or lose his position. Not that I think that
would be a bad thing, except for mother's sake. Still, it isn't every one
that would use five minutes of being a millionaire just to do good to
other people, and you're a good sort, Horatia. So don't mind what I say.
I'm always cross at Balmoral. I can't breathe here.'

CHAPTER XV.

A VISIT TO CLAY'S MILLS.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, as Sarah saw when Naomi drew up
her blinds. She also saw that the girl's face was swollen with crying.
'What is the matter, Naomi?' she asked anxiously, for Sarah was very
kind-hearted, and she was very fond of her young maid.

'It's Ruth, miss; she's been took with the croup, and mother's been up
all night with her, and the doctor says he doubts if we shall pull her
through. And, oh, she's such--a--darling, is Ruth!' Here Naomi burst into