'We must go at once,' said her brother, taking up his hat.

'I don't think you ought to leave the mill till the dinner-hour. The bell
will ring in a quarter of an hour. Can't you wait till then?' objected
Sarah, who, as is seen, was more business-like than her brother, thanks
to her intercourse with her uncle Howroyd.

'Perhaps you are right. Then you had better go, and say I will be there
almost directly,' he suggested.

Sarah started with mingled feelings. She was glad, really glad, that her
father had recovered consciousness, and was therefore, she supposed,
getting better; but the fact was, Sarah felt very resentful and sore that
he had made himself so hated, and she walked very slowly along the
streets that separated her father's mills from Mr Howroyd's.

''E knows me, Sarah!' cried her mother, whose face was transfigured with
joy. 'Thanks be to God, 'e knows me, my dear 'usband!'

For the life of her, Sarah could not show any great joy, but only
inquired, 'Has he asked for me, or is it only George he wants to see,
mother?'

''E mentioned you both, an' asked w'ere Sally was,' said her mother,
forgetting, in her great relief, the small detail that Sarah disliked
being called so.

'Then I'd better go to him and tell him George will come in as soon as he
can leave the mills,' said Sarah, preparing to go into the sitting-room,
which was still being used as the stricken man's bedroom.

'Don't you say any such thing! Don't you breathe a word about the mills
or Balmoral or anything. 'E's not to be excited, the doctor says. I've
'alf a mind to tell 'im 'e shall see you by-and-by; it would be a
dreadful thing if you were to upset 'im. You don't always get on too well
with your father, Sarah,' Mrs Clay wound up reproachfully.

'I sha'n't say anything to upset father while he is lying there so ill. I
only meant to explain why George did not come at once,' explained Sarah.

'You needn't explain. Sick folk don't want explanations,' objected Mrs
Clay. 'Say George is out.'

'Very well,' agreed Sarah, and she went into the sick-room. It was a
relief not to see her father lying there with unseeing eyes and breathing
so heavily; but, somehow, Sarah felt very uncomfortable under his keen
glance to-day. Still, she managed to say, 'I am glad you are better,
father.'

'Ay, I'm going to get better; but I'll never be the man I was. I've made
a mess of it, Sally, and I shall not leave you the big fortune I meant
you to have t