HORATIA'S ARRIVAL.
Sarah stepped forward to help Horatia down from the carriage, and
suddenly her expression changed to one of mingled surprise and annoyance;
seeing which, the young visitor, with a merry laugh, jumped from the
carriage to the platform, ignoring the steps and Sarah's outstretched
hand.
'There! I said so, didn't I, Nanny?' she cried, turning to her maid, a
highly respectable, middle-aged woman, with as good-humoured a face as
her young charge.--'Sarah, I said the minute you saw us come out of a
third-class carriage you would put on that shocked face of yours. That's
partly why I did it.'
'You must excuse Miss Horatia, miss. She's full of mischief, and she got
into this carriage at the junction without my seeing what class it was,
or I would never have allowed her to do such a thing as arrive here
third, with you to meet her, and the "chauffer" and all,' said Horatia's
maid.
'Oh, bother the chauffeur! It's nothing to do with him which class I
travel!' exclaimed Horatia, who, to do her justice, had no idea that the
chauffeur was just behind her. That individual was far too well trained
to give any sign of having heard this remark, though it was very
different from the way his present employers treated him. Mark Clay
bullied his servants, and his timid little wife hardly dared to speak to
them. Sarah was very reserved, except with Naomi; while George was as
courteous to a beggar as to a lord, having but one manner with them all.
When Horatia saw what she had done she made a funny little face, and said
in an undertone to Sarah, 'I say, Sarah, can't we walk to your house?'
'I don't think we had better. We shall meet the mill-hands coming out,
and mother does not like us to do that,' said Sarah.
'Oh, of course, if your mother does not allow it, we can't; but do you
think I had better apologise to your man?' she suggested.
'Apologise? Pray, don't think of such a thing! But I suppose you are only
saying that to shock me, though why that should amuse you so much I can't
think,' observed Sarah.
'You would if you could see your own face; but I really didn't get into
that railway-carriage only to shock you. I got in to hear Yorkshire
people talk. I saw some country men and women get in, and I just followed
them; and, oh Sarah, what does "ginnel" mean, and a "fettle"?'
'I don't know what a "ginnel" is; but "fettle" is a verb. A fettler is
the man who cleans the machines in the mill. I have heard the people here
talk of "fettling" the hearth when they mean "clean up." And old Matthew,
a mill-hand, said the other day he didn't feel in a grand fettle. I
suppose he meant "well."'
'A ginnel's a narrow passage, miss. Yon's a ginnel we are just passing,'
said the chauffeur to Horatia, slowing down as they passed what is
generally called an alley, to which he pointed.
'Oh, thank you very much,' said Horatia genially, and added to Sarah, as
she squeezed her arm, 'Oh Sarah, I am enjoying myself so much!'
Her happiness was infectious, and Sarah turned to her visitor with an
amused smile. 'Why, what can you find to enjoy already?' she asked, with
some reason, for they were going almost at walking pace through the town,
because of the crowds that poured into the streets from almost every
side-turning, so that it could not be the exhilarating motion of motoring
that she liked so much.
'Everything! Seeing all those people and hearing people talk Yorkshire,'
cried Horatia.
'The people are just like poor people anywhere, only rather dirtier; and
I don't like their way of speaking--they have such rough, loud voices,'
replied Sarah.
'I think that kind of sing-song they have is musical, and they are not a
bit like our villagers; I don't know how, but they are not,' said
Horatia, glancing about her, and almost jumping up and down in her
eagerness to see all there was to be seen, as they drove slowly along the
narrow, and at this time crowded, streets of the grimy manufacturing
town.
'Oh, oh, look, Nanny, at that lovely river all purple!' she cried
enthusiastically.
'Well, really, Miss Horatia, I can't say that I do admire that. It looks
shocking dirty,' said the maid.
'It is. It's lovely before it gets to Ousebank; but it's so polluted by
the mills turning all their horrid dyes and things into it that fish
can't live in it,' observed Sarah in tones of disgust.
'Well, I call it a lovely colour. Just think how delightful--when you get
tired of a dress one colour, you have just got to dip it into the river
when the water's the colour you want, and, hey, presto! there you are
with a new dress!'
Even the chauffeur on the seat in front let his face relax into a smile
at Horatia's chatter; but Sarah, though she laughed, said decidedly, 'I'd
rather send my dresses to proper dyers than put them into that dirty
water; and I'd rather see the river clean, and so would you if you lived
here.'
They had got clear of the town now, and Horatia, having nothing to look
at except an ugly row of cottages, in which even she could not find
anything to admire, turned her attention to the car, which she declared
most luxurious, and ever so much better than her father's.
'We can go out in it as much as you like, if you like motoring, and go
for picnics in the country,' suggested Sarah.
'That will be very nice; but I want to see your mill first,' said
Horatia. 'Is it near the house?'
'No; we passed it just now, when you said, "What a big stream of
people"!' answered Sarah.
'But they didn't know you,' objected the other.
'Oh yes, they did--by sight, I mean. But what difference would that make?
You don't expect them to nod to me, do you?'
'All our villagers do to me, even though I don't know 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.' And here the thought came into
Horatia's mind that she would certainly be ''Oratia' to her hostess, and
she felt a wild desire to laugh, but valiantly repressed it; for which
she was very thankful when Mrs Clay, with a pretty, pink colour in her
delicate, faded cheeks, said, 'Thank you, my dear; it's a very pretty
name, but it's difficult to remember. I expect I shall always call you
"my dear," as you don't mind, and I am sure you are a very dear young
lady.'
Horatia impulsively threw her arms round Mrs Clay's neck, and, kissing
her, said, 'I am sure I am going to have a lovely time here, and I think
it's awfully good of you to ask me.'
Mrs Clay beamed with delight, and all fears on her part that the visit
would not be a success were over.
Sarah's brow cleared. She was rather surprised that Horatia and her
mother had taken to each other; but so far so well. The worst was--her
father; and Sarah almost longed for dinner-time, so that that meeting
also should be over. 'She won't like him, I know,' she murmured, with a
recollection of a scene at school when a visitor had been presuming in
Horatia's opinion, and she had rather surprised her companions by the
frigid air she assumed. 'He'll offend her, and she will say something,
and, oh dear! I'm sure there will be a scene,' sighed Sarah.
However, dinner was two hours off, and Sarah took Horatia through the
vast corridors and up to the royal rooms, followed by Horatia's old
nurse, who had come in the capacity of maid, and was by her mistress's
orders keeping near her charge till she settled down in her new
surroundings.
Horatia and her maid were both used to large houses, and had stayed at
the ducal mansion of Horatia's relative; but when the door leading into
the royal rooms was opened she gave a cry of admiration. 'But am I to
sleep here? It's far too grand for me, Sarah. And what a big room! I
shall lose myself in it!' she cried.
'My father wished you to have these rooms. There's a bed for your maid
next door, in the dressing-room. My mother thought you might be nervous
in a new house,' explained Sarah.
'How kind you all are! Fancy taking all that trouble about making me
comfortable! I'm afraid I sha'n't be able to give you such a lot of rooms
when you come to stay with us,' said Horatia, as she wandered from room
to room, and stopped first to admire the writing-table with gold
everything, and finally the bathroom with silver fittings.
'I will leave you to rest a little, and when you are ready for a walk in
the park, please ring the bell and Naomi will fetch me,' said Sarah as
she went off, relieved to find that Horatia took everything in a
friendly spirit.
'Oh Miss Horatia, this is a funny house!' exclaimed Horatia's nurse.
'I don't see anything funny in it,' said Horatia; 'it's a very beautiful
one.'
'Yes, miss, it is that; these people must have a mint of money. Why, look
at these rooms; they're fit for a king. And to think that poor thing is
the mistress of it all. She doesn't look hardly fit,' said the woman.
Horatia let this remark pass in silence; but if her loyalty to her
hostess had let her she would probably have agreed with her nurse, for
she did feel, somehow, as Sarah did, that it was all too grand, and
oppressed her somehow. 'My dresses are not grand enough for these rooms,
Nanny, or for this house,' she replied.
But this was too much for the old nurse. 'You'll look a lady and be a
lady in the commonest of them, and that's more than these Clays be, for
all their money,' she cried indignantly.
'That isn't very nice of you when they are so kind to us, Nanny, and have
asked us here so that we may enjoy ourselves,' said Horatia
reproachfully.
'No, Miss Horatia, it isn't, and I ought to be ashamed of myself that you
have to teach me my duty instead of me showing you a good example; but I
felt wild to think of them, perhaps, thinking themselves better than you
because they have such a lot of money out of blankets,' said the good
woman. 'Why, I'd sooner have The Grange than this house any day.'
'So would I, of course, because it's my home; but I wouldn't mind
having a bathroom like this, all marble and silver, and all those lovely
little contrivances to wash yourself without any trouble; and I will some
day, when I'm rich,' declared Horatia.
[Illustration: 'I'm so glad you've called me "lass"! I was so hoping some
one would.' PAGE 69.]
And now, being ready for dinner, Horatia rang for Sarah, and the two went
down to the painted and gilded drawing-room to wait till the gong
sounded, which it presently did, and the three went into the dining-room,
where they found Mr Mark Clay, as was his custom, seated at the table.
When they arrived, Mrs Clay, whose duty it was to introduce Horatia to
her host, left that duty to Sarah, and Sarah left it to her mother, with
the result that no one performed that ceremony.
Horatia had to introduce herself, which she did very prettily. 'How do
you do, Mr Clay? Thank you for giving me such a lovely room'--everything
was lovely according to Horatia; 'it's the loveliest I have ever
seen--better than the peacock-room at Hasingfield.
Now, Hasingfield was the palace of Horatia's ducal relative, her
grandfather, and the peacock-room was so famous that even Mark Clay had
heard of it; so that Horatia could not have said anything that would have
pleased her host better. He held her hand for a moment, and looked down
at her bright, smiling face, as he said, 'I'm right glad to see you here,
and welcome you to Yorkshire. And there's nothing here that you are not
welcome to use as your own. Make yourself at home, lass.'
Horatia's smile broadened as she gave a laugh of delight. 'Oh, I'm so
glad you've called me "lass"! I was so hoping some one would. That shall
be your name for me, and Mrs Clay will call me "my dear,"' she answered,
taking her seat at the table in the best of humours.
It was a sumptuous repast, and if Horatia got tired of it and of her
host's boastings and unrefined remarks, she gave no sign, but seemed, as
she had said when she first arrived, to be enjoying herself immensely.
'So the dreaded introductions were safely and happily over, and either
she is acting or else she doesn't notice or mind anything,' Sarah said to
herself. But she was wrong, for Horatia was not acting, and she did
notice, and did mind some things. Later on Sarah was undeceived on this
point.