Sarahs School Friend | Page 9

of the habit of repeating myself. Still, as I
talk very fast, perhaps I don't waste so much time after all; so I think
you'll have to put up with your old uncle's ways, and try and reform
some one else nearer home.'
'If you mean my father'----began Sarah.
But the tone in which she said 'my father' made her uncle interrupt her
sharply. 'No, I don't. I mean nearer home than that; I mean your own
tongue, young woman. You let it run on too fast and too freely. I'm sure
I don't know what kind of a school that is that you're at; but they don't
teach you respect for your elders; and I'm beginning to wonder if

you've paid the twopence extra for manners. If you have, you haven't
got your two-pen'orth, that's certain.'
'Oh yes, I have; only you don't understand them up in the north,' replied
Sarah airily, not in the least abashed or offended, apparently, by her
uncle's candid criticism.
'No, we don't that,' he replied emphatically. But, all the same, he most
evidently cared more for Sarah than he did for her mother or for her
languid brother, to whom he always talked with a kind of good-natured
contempt.
'The fact is, Uncle Howroyd, you're worried, and your way of showing
it is by scolding me, which is not fair, as I am not the person you are
angry with, but some one whom you have come to see to-night, unless
I'm very much mistaken,' observed Sarah, nodding her head knowingly
at her uncle.
'You little witch! how dare you go guessing at your uncle's private
affairs like that?' cried Mr William Howroyd, laughing at his niece.
'Oh, dear Bill, I 'ope there's nothin' wrong between you an' Mark?
Per'aps you'd better not say anythin' to 'im to-night; 'e's a little put out,
just for the minute,' said Mrs Clay.
'For the minute? I'd like to see him at a minute when he isn't put out!
And if you're going to say anything to annoy him I wish you would say
it to-night, for I'd like to myself, only'----
'She daren't!' put in George from the depths of an arm-chair.
Mr William Howroyd turned from his handsome niece, whose hair he
was gently smoothing, to her equally handsome brother, who was lying
back in the softest chair he could find (and they were all comfortable,
'all of the best,' as Mark Clay said of them, as of everything else he
possessed). 'No; and as for you, I don't suppose you'd trouble to say
anything to your father if it was to save you all from the workhouse,' he
said scornfully.

George Clay was nearly hidden from view by the cushions he had
carefully adjusted behind his head; consequently the sudden slight start
and swift opening wide of his lazy-looking eyes passed unnoticed even
by the eyes of his uncle, who, indeed, would never have thought of
looking for alertness or energy in his nephew. 'I might,' he replied lazily.
'I don't fancy the workhouse. Is there any chance of it?'
Somehow every one seemed to think this a joke, and his uncle
remarked, 'No, the workhouse would not suit you; no easy-chairs there.
It might do you good, though.'
'I wish there was a chance of it! Now that would be life!' cried Sarah
eagerly.
'Don't talk so silly, child; you don't know w'at the work'ouse is like. It's
enough to call down a judgment upon you, bein' so ungrateful to
Providence for all the good things it's given you,' cried her mother.
'Fancy the work'ouse after this!' Mrs Clay put a world of expression
into the last word, as she looked round the sumptuous drawing-room in
which they were gathered.
'Yes, it would be a change; though stranger things have happened,' said
Mr Howroyd in his brisk way, and again he missed the look George
shot at him.
'I should like to know if there is any chance of it,' George remarked.
'You haven't answered my question yet, uncle.'
'What question? Oh, whether there's any chance of your ever going to
the workhouse?' laughed his uncle. 'How can I tell? One hears of kings
becoming beggars, so why not Mr George Clay?'
'There's no chance of that,' remarked George.
'How do you know?' began his uncle.
'Don't you be too sure. Our mills might be burnt down, or anything
might happen,' cried Sarah.

'Oh, if you mean by a beggar being penniless, that's always possible, of
course. What I meant was that I should never beg,' said her brother with
quiet decision.
'What would you do? Work?' inquired his uncle.
'I fancy so,' said George; and they all laughed again, as though the idea
of George working was a good joke.
But Mrs Clay added,