old
stupid--well, I beg his pardon, as we're in his house, and you seem to
like him, miss; though how you can, or what you can see in him, and after
how you've been used'----she said.

'Oh, never mind all that, Nanny; do tell me the rest! Mrs Clay will be
calling me again, so pray make haste!' exclaimed Horatia.

'Well, he goes down to the mills and undoes all the good you've done by
saying it was the last time a mill-hand would put foot in his park, for
he built that to be away from them, and he isn't going to have his peace
disturbed; and it wouldn't do them any good either, for he'd let them
have their way this time to please you, but it was the first and last
time he'd do such a thing.' Nancy stopped.

'That's not all. Go on, Nanny,' said Horatia.

'Well, Naomi's sister, you know--she hates Mr Clay, of course'----began
Nancy.

'Why of course?' interrupted Horatia.

'You know that story, surely, don't you, miss?'

'What story? How should I know why Naomi's sister hates Mr Clay? It's
very wrong of her,' said Horatia.

'So it is; but her young man--the young man she was going to marry, I
mean--was turned off by the master, and'----

'I expect he was a bad workman; that's his own fault,' said Horatia. 'But
never mind about that story. Oh dear! I don't know which story I want to
know. You are tiresome to-day, Nanny. What did Naomi say?'

'It was her sister. Naomi had nothing to do with it; she's too fond of
Miss Sarah,' said Nancy.

Horatia peeped into the drawing-room. Mrs Clay still had her eyes shut,
and by her breathing Horatia guessed what was indeed the case--that she
had fallen asleep; so Horatia gave a sigh, and resigned herself to listen
to Nancy's long-winded tale in the hope of getting at the truth in time.
'Come and sit on this seat outside the front-door, it is so hot in the
house; and, besides, I am afraid of some one coming and hearing you,' she
said, leading her nurse to a bench outside the drawing-room window.
'Now, about Naomi's sister.'

'It wasn't Naomi's sister herself,' began Nancy.

Horatia gave a groan; but so great was her anxiety to hear the truth that
she made a great effort and controlled herself. Then Nancy went on: 'He
said he'd burn the Clays out of Ousebank, and that they should have a
taste of it this very day, to show Mark Clay what he might expect if he
didn't alter his ways;' and Nancy stopped again.

'What else did Naomi say?' asked Horatia, who looked grave enough no