which she did very prettily. 'How do
you do, Mr Clay? Thank you for giving me such a lovely room'--everything
was lovely according to Horatia; 'it's the loveliest I have ever
seen--better than the peacock-room at Hasingfield.

Now, Hasingfield was the palace of Horatia's ducal relative, her
grandfather, and the peacock-room was so famous that even Mark Clay had
heard of it; so that Horatia could not have said anything that would have
pleased her host better. He held her hand for a moment, and looked down
at her bright, smiling face, as he said, 'I'm right glad to see you here,
and welcome you to Yorkshire. And there's nothing here that you are not
welcome to use as your own. Make yourself at home, lass.'

Horatia's smile broadened as she gave a laugh of delight. 'Oh, I'm so
glad you've called me "lass"! I was so hoping some one would. That shall
be your name for me, and Mrs Clay will call me "my dear,"' she answered,
taking her seat at the table in the best of humours.

It was a sumptuous repast, and if Horatia got tired of it and of her
host's boastings and unrefined remarks, she gave no sign, but seemed, as
she had said when she first arrived, to be enjoying herself immensely.

'So the dreaded introductions were safely and happily over, and either
she is acting or else she doesn't notice or mind anything,' Sarah said to
herself. But she was wrong, for Horatia was not acting, and she did
notice, and did mind some things. Later on Sarah was undeceived on this
point.

CHAPTER VIII.

HORATIA.

So the dinner was over, and Sarah heaved a great sigh of relief as the
two followed Mrs Clay to the drawing-room.

'What are you sighing for, Sarah? One would think you had just discovered
that you were a pauper, and had eaten your last grand dinner; for it was
a grand dinner. Was it in honour of little, insignificant me? Because,
you know, if it was, perhaps you wouldn't mind telling Mrs Clay that I
don't come down to dinner at home, but have schoolroom supper with Nanny;
and I don't think mamma would like me to eat all those things every
evening,' observed Horatia, taking Sarah's arm and doing a rink step
along the hall.

'Oh, we have that kind of dinner every day. There may have been extra
trouble taken because of you; but father likes it. You needn't eat any
more than you like; but I shouldn't sigh if I heard it was my last in
this house,' replied Sarah vehemently.

She spoke so vehemently that Horatia stoppe