y are all changed,' declared Horatia.

'But you told me Mrs Clay was a meek, trodden-down creature, and Mr Clay
a rather violent man, and that Sarah could not bear him. And as for
Nanny's description, it was worse still, and I find Mrs Clay very
different, and Sarah is devoted to her parents, especially her father.'

'I know,' agreed Horatia, nodding her head. 'I was so astonished that my
eyes nearly dropped out of my head. But it's the fire that has done it.
It's burst up all their bad qualities. I can tell you it was pretty
uncomfortable last time I stayed there; and when you tell Nanny your
opinion of them, she'll say a miracle must have happened.'

'I think they have been having a hard struggle. The young fellow betrayed
it when he showed that full warehouse. I heard something about it. There
is a feeling against them. Even our shipping people objected to trading
with them. But I'm glad I persuaded them; it may give them a lift, and
one thing leads to another.'

'Yes; and you must make that shade the fashion, mother. Wear it at your
big reception, will you?' begged Horatia.

'And get it copied at once?' laughed her mother.

'Yes, because Mr Clay was so kind to me. Think of that rink that he had
made just to please me!' cried Horatia.

'Ah, that was a waste of money! They won't be able to throw their money
about like that for some time to come,' said Mr Cunningham, shaking his
head.

'No; and a good thing, too. I don't approve of these colossal fortunes,'
said his wife.

'Unless one has it one's self,' laughed her husband.

'It just shows how quickly they can be lost,' she observed.

'Well, it seems to have done them all good, so I don't think we need
regret it or pity them,' said Mr Cunningham.

'Only, I do wish you had seen Balmoral; it was like Aladdin's palace. I
never saw anything like it,' cried Horatia.

CHAPTER XXX.

LAST.

The worst had come and passed. Two days later Mr Clay announced his
intention of going down to the mill. 'Not that I'm going to take things
out of your hand, lad--nay, I shall never be good for much again--but
just to see the old place, and say a word to some of the hands,' he
explained.

'Will you wait till this afternoon, father?' asked George.

'Why? What's doing?' inquired his father.

'Only carrying bales for a big order,' said George.

'I'd like to see that; it means business,' persisted the mill-owner. And
he had his way.

'I wanted to get the wareh