enial companion.
That was William Howroyd's invariable way, always doing kindly,
unobtrusive acts, and then effacing himself.

George Cunningham gave a hearty laugh. 'The bird has flown,' he said.

'And a good thing, too. Suppose he had heard his brother called an "old
buffer"?' said Horatia reprovingly.

'He's heard him called much worse than that, by all accounts. Your host
isn't too popular, for all his money.'

'Well, anyway, it's horrid of you to come and eat his food, and then
criticise him,' said Horatia.

'Begging your pardon, I haven't eaten anything yet; and talking of grub,
what do you say to coming and having some? There's a splendid spread
behind that glass screen,' he said.

'It's much too early. Don't be so greedy, but come and rink before it
gets too full,' said Horatia; and the two went off.

When they had made several rounds, Horatia stopped near the two tall
girls who had come in first, and they immediately complimented her on her
rinking. 'You rink as if you thought no one was looking at you,' they
told her.

Horatia laughed. 'How should one rink when people _are_ looking? In a
different way?' she asked.

'No, one shouldn't; only most people look a little self-conscious,' they
replied.

Horatia noticed the slight Yorkshire intonation which she thought so
musical, and was inclined to laugh at her former fears, for there were no
'Mark Clays' at the party, and she soon heard many familiar names
mentioned as being present.

One of the Maddox party eventually asked her to have an ice. 'Come and
sit in this alcove place, and I'll fetch you one,' he suggested.

Horatia was tired, for she had already rinked for some time in the
morning, and she sat back in the alcove, half-hidden from sight.

'I always wonder how many more entertainments Mark Clay will hold out
for?' said a voice quite near her.

'Why, is he shaky?' inquired another.

'Not that I know of; but these fortunes made in a day, so to speak,
generally melt away in the same way.'

'I understood he was a solid man,' said the second speaker.

'So he is--so he is, for aught I know. I only know that we all have that
feeling about him. Perhaps the wish is father to the thought, for he's
none too popular.'

'Still, you need not wish him to be ruined, even if you don't like him. I
suppose he does some good with his money? These rich Yorkshire
manufacturers are most generous as a rule,' said the other, evidently a
stranger.

'He's