ow them by sight,'
said Horatia.

'Then they are different from our people, and perhaps there are not so
many. We have over eight hundred men in our mill, besides women and
boys.'

Horatia began to see that Sarah did not care to talk about mill-people,
as she called them in her mind, and as they entered the park at the
moment, and the house in another moment, she found other subjects for
conversation.

Horatia was a year younger than Sarah and more than a head shorter, and a
greater contrast than the two presented could not be imagined: the one
tall, slender, dignified, with regular features and clear complexion; and
the other short, square-set, with snub-nose and freckled skin, a face
only redeemed from plainness by its merry, twinkling eyes and
good-humoured mouth, which was always broadening into a smile.

Mrs Clay had seen Horatia Cunningham's photograph, so that she was
prepared for a girl with a homely face; but most photographs flatter, and
Mrs Clay had not expected to see any one quite so ordinary in appearance,
'an' that plainly dressed,' as she confided to her husband. However, she
came forward with a hearty welcome, and as soon as Horatia smiled at her
she forgot the slight shock her young guest's appearance had given her.

Horatia jumped out of the car as she had jumped out of the train. 'It is
so kind of you to have me; and what a lovely view you have! One would
never think the town was so near. I suppose it is hidden behind those
trees?' she said.

'No, my dear--Miss Cunningham, I mean--the town is be'ind the 'ouse. My
'usband built the mansion this way on purpose,' said Mrs Clay, in her
nervousness dropping the _h's_ more than usual.

Sarah kept a keen eye upon Horatia during this speech. She had been
dreading this moment, and had only forgotten her anxiety, thanks to
Horatia's free praise of all she saw; but not a trace of mockery could
she see in her schoolfellow's smile; in fact, Horatia was more polite
than she was to the teachers at school, to whom they were expected to be
most courteous. 'I suppose she didn't expect her to be educated,' thought
Sarah, a little bitterly.

But she did her school friend an injustice, for Mrs Clay was a far
greater shock to Horatia than she was to her hostess; and it said much
for the girl's innate good-breeding that she showed no sign of the fact,
but only answered frankly, 'Please don't call me Miss Cunningham. I'm not
grown up yet, and my name is Horatia.'