uldn't mean it nastily; but it's no good pretending that mother
does not say the wrong thing sometimes,' said Sarah.

'The wrong thing has been sending you to that school,' said George, his
loyalty and love for his mother preventing his acknowledging the truth of
this remark; and then he said more kindly, for he sympathised more with
his sister than he chose to say, 'I don't believe Miss Cunningham would
be nasty in any way. I know her brother slightly at college, and he is
"Hail, fellow! well met," with every chap he meets. You take my advice,
and write and ask her to come here. You can tell her, if you like,
that--well, that we are _nouveaux riches_, and have no pretensions of
being gentlefolks; but that she will have a hearty Yorkshire welcome, and
that's not a thing to be despised, let me tell you. Here, sit down and
write the letter at once. I shall enjoy myself much more in Scotland if I
know you have a companion.'

'I shouldn't mind so much if you were going to be at home,' said Sarah,
only half-won over.

George ignored the implied compliment, and said, 'You will get on much
better alone. Sit down and write the invitation here. I'll help you.'

'No, thank you; I'd rather write my own way,' remarked Sarah, as she rose
from the window-seat. When she got to the door, she turned back to say,
'I have a presentiment that she'll accept, and it will be all your fault,
remember. Whatever the consequences, they will be on your head.'

George only laughed, and sat down himself to accept his shooting
invitation.

CHAPTER VI.

AN EXTRAORDINARY LETTER.

It did not take George Clay five minutes to write his acceptance of his
friend's invitation; but his sister did not find her letter quite so easy
to write, and she sat at the pretty Chippendale table biting the end of
her pen for more than that length of time before she began to write in
desperation, only to tear up the letter in despair.

'It's all very well for George to talk; but it's not so easy to sit down
and tell a girl you are not a lady, and, what's more, that your parents
are not gentlefolks,' said Sarah aloud to herself.

Then she started again, and wrote a friendly invitation, without any
embarrassing explanations or apologies.

'George may be able to say that kind of thing in a gentlemanly way--he
always does say the right sort of thing--but I shall just chance it,' she
muttered to herself, as she sealed up the letter and sent it off by
Naomi,