right you must take
shares,' said George, with his winning smile.

'Well, we've got three servants and a motor, so far,' said Sarah;
'because, of course, Naomi is going to stay, and it will be very nice to
be still on the hill instead of living in Ousebank. I hate Ousebank'.

George wanted to remind Sarah that she had hated Balmoral; but he decided
not to cast up the past, as she was so much improved, so he only said,
'Yes, I've often looked at that Red House, and wondered whose it was, and
who would come and live in it. I little thought that it would be
ourselves.'

'It reminds me of the Bible,' observed Sarah abruptly.

'What does?' asked George. 'The Red House?'

'No; all the other servants fleeing like the hireling, but our own
Yorkshire servants staying with us, and offering their services and
houses, and all.'

'There's another text it makes me think of,' said George reverently, 'and
that is to put your trust in God.'

CHAPTER XXVII.

SARAH IS MUCH IMPROVED.

'George, I'm going to cheer mother up by telling her what a nice house we
have had offered to us,' said Sarah, full of the new plans.

'I don't fancy anything will cheer mother while father lies there in that
condition. However, she will be glad that Sykes has shown himself loyal,'
replied George, who was just going down to the mills.

Mrs Clay had been sitting by her husband the whole of the day, and no
power could induce her to leave him; but now Mr Howroyd had persuaded her
to come and take some food. The two met George and Sarah in the passage.

'Going out, George? What are you living on to-day--air or excitement?
Don't you know it's dinner-time?' he exclaimed when he saw that his
nephew had his hat in his hand and was evidently going out.

'I was just going to the mills, uncle. I shall be back in half-an-hour,'
said George.

'What are you going to do there? They are shut up, and Luke Mickleroyd
and the other watchmen are in charge. Come and have some food, lad; it
will help your mother to eat if she sees you eating. You must all badly
want something; you've starved all day.'

George Clay put down his hat, remarking, 'I had no idea it was so
late.--Come, mother, take my arm.'

'Mother, we have something so nice to tell you,' said Sarah, speaking in
a gentler voice than was her wont to her mother.

''Ave you, my dear?' said Mrs Clay indifferently.

'Yes; we've got a house for you to live in already.'

'I know, Sarah. Your un