e name; but I don't know what I've heard of him,'
said Mr Cunningham.

'That would account for her odd way of writing,' said his wife.

'What is odd about it?' demanded Horatia.

'Her writing without mentioning her mother's name, and she never says she
would like to see you. Besides, to begin with, as a matter of politeness,
Mrs Clay should have written to me,' objected Lady Grace Cunningham.

'Sarah is very independent, and I expect she does as she likes at home,'
said Horatia. 'But she is a very nice girl, mamma, and I may go, mayn't
I?' she begged.

'Do you really want to go? You know these people, though they have great
riches, are very often very unrefined. What is the girl like?'

'I'll show you her photograph, and she looks like a queen when she
walks,' said Horatia; and in her eagerness to get leave to pay the visit
she ran upstairs to fetch the photo, and came back with a portrait of a
boy and girl.

'Dear me, what a handsome couple!' exclaimed Lady Grace Cunningham; 'and
most refined,' she added, as she passed the photo to her husband for his
inspection and opinion.

'A very fine face--the girl's, I mean; the young fellow looks rather
effeminate. I don't think you'd learn anything but good from that girl;
but she looks proud. I should never have taken her for a tradesman's
daughter,' he remarked, as he put the photo down.

'She is not. He is a manufacturer,' protested Horatia.

'Some of our merchants are of good old stock, and as refined as
ourselves, if I may be allowed that piece of boasting,' replied his wife.

'And no doubt these people are. Well, personally, I have no objection to
Horatia's going to them, if you have not,' said Mr Cunningham; and he
buried himself in his newspaper.

'Hurrah!' cried Horatia, clapping her hands.

'Why this excitement? Are you so fond of this schoolfellow, or do you
find home dull?' inquired Lady Grace Cunningham.

'Oh no, mamma; of course I am never dull at The Grange, and I don't know
that I am so fond of Sarah. I do like her very much, but I shall see her
in another month; so, if you like, I will write and refuse the
invitation.'

'By no means. I wish you to grow up large-minded; but you have not
explained why you were so delighted at the thought of going to spend a
month with these strangers. I don't suppose their riches attract you.'

'Oh no; I don't think one could have a nicer home than this. I believe
the real truth is that I should like to see a m