ad been so sumptuously
decorated that the workmen called them the 'royal suite;' and Mr Clay,
overhearing them, had said the royal suite they should be called. Perhaps
it would be prophetic, for stranger things had to come to pass than
royalty coming to stay with the Mayor of Ousebank, as he had been, and
probably would be again.

Sarah knew she ought to express her gratitude to her father for the
honour he was showing to her friend; but no words would come. Sarah Clay
was, unfortunately, more in the habit of uttering unpleasant truths than
making pretty speeches to her father; and, if the truth be told, she was
not altogether pleased at the honour shown, for the rooms were not very
suitable for a young girl, and Sarah had an idea that the grandeur would
be wasted on Horatia, who, she suspected, would rather have a room near
hers.

George, as usual, came to the rescue. 'That is very kind of you, father;
but perhaps, as Miss Cunningham is very young, and is coming for the
first time among strangers, she would prefer to be in the west wing near
some one she knows. There's the anteroom, next Sarah's; that is very
pretty for a girl, and they could share the boudoir.'

Sarah shot a grateful look at her brother; but his pains were thrown
away, for Mr Clay, who was not a man to be easily turned from his plan,
said, 'She'll soon get used to us, and she can have her maid to sleep
next door. No; I've promised she shall have the royal rooms, and I'll not
go back on my word.'

'Let's hope she'll appreciate them,' said George in a non-committal tone.

Sarah spent the intervening two or three days in a state of suppressed
excitement and unsuppressed irritability; and George at last began to
regret, like herself, that her friend was coming, and was sorry for
having made the suggestion. He would even have given up his visit to the
north if Sarah had accepted his sacrifice; but the latter declared
brusquely, 'You couldn't do much good; and, considering that my excuse
for asking her here was that I should be alone, it would look rather odd
if you didn't go away, after all.'

So George went off, his parting words to Sarah being, 'Don't worry. Just
be as nice to her as you can, and don't, for goodness' sake, be ashamed
of being what you are, for you have nothing to be ashamed of.'

'I don't think that,' said Sarah.

'We need be ashamed of nothing in this world except doing wrong,' said
George; and the motor started with a hoot of