ot toothache, you'd pass
better,' she suggested, handing Sarah a large white pocket-handkerchief
with a coloured border.

Sarah took it and wrapped it round her face, saying as she did so, 'It
will make me very hot. But I'll tell you what, we'll go straight to your
house, Naomi; they will know all about it there, and we sha'n't mix in
the crowd.' Sarah's courage, as may be seen, was oozing away with all
Naomi's warnings.

But Naomi proved a Job's comforter. 'I doubt we'd better not go home,
Miss Sarah. There's Jane Mary fair off her head, she's that mad with the
master, and she's turned against all of you. She'd think you were a spy
or something, and be nasty as like as not.'

Sarah said no more, and as they had come to the town now they had enough
to do to pick their way through the crowded streets. 'The mills can't be
working, Naomi. Here are some of the chief hands,' she said in an
undertone.

'I never thought they were. It's some mischief they're doing. Hark! did
you hear what yon man said?' inquired Naomi in the same tone.

'No; at least, I could not understand, he spoke such broad Yorkshire. I
thought he said something about "furriners,"' replied Sarah.

'That's what he did say. Oh miss, come into the ginnel [alley] till these
men pass,' cried Naomi, pulling Sarah into the said 'ginnel,' just in
time to avoid a party of young men, who were evidently very excited, and
were anathematising Mark Clay. 'Miss, you'd best go to Howroyd's. There's
a fine to-do to-day,' entreated Naomi.

'Perhaps I'd better,' agreed Sarah, who was not very happy in her
mill-lass's get-up. At no time did Sarah like meeting the 'hands;' but in
this disguise she disliked it still more. It was only a mad impulse which
made her don the disguise, and she rather regretted it now that she saw
the state of the town. So she willingly turned towards Howroyd's Mill.

'The master's at the telephone. He's been there most of the morning, and
it's no use your coming to-day; you'd best leave your message,' said the
maid, who did not recognise Sarah. Indeed, she had only opened the door a
few inches, taking them to be poor girls come to ask help from the
ever-ready philanthropist, William Howroyd.

'Let me in, Mary,' said Sarah, coming forward and untying her disguising
handkerchief.

The maid gave a little shriek, and grasping Sarah by the hand, drew her
inside. 'Miss Sarah, my dear! however could you? And the town all against
your father! Come