'Why does she hate him? Doesn't she work in his mills?' Horatia inquired.
'Yes, that's one of the reasons. Besides, her young man was a hand, and was turned off. Father is not popular with his hands,' said Sarah sarcastically.
'Are you?' demanded Horatia, turning upon her.
Sarah did not answer for a minute, for the question took her aback; then she laughed. 'No, I don't fancy I am. They think me proud, and I suppose I am, though goodness knows what I have to be proud of,' she said.
'You might be proud of being so pretty, but I know you are not,' said Horatia. 'I don't see why that girl should hate your father.'
'And I don't see why you should like him,' returned Sarah.
'I know you don't, and I am sorry for it and for lots of things; but it's no good worrying about them when we are out on a picnic, especially as I am starving of hunger, as you say here, and I see Tom Fox waving the flag to show that lunch is ready.'
The millionaire was in the best of humours, paying his wife attention, telling Tom Fox playfully to be sure and have a good lunch, and see that his horse had one too! and joking with Mr Howroyd and Horatia, and with Sarah when she gave him a chance.
'Have you got right yet?' inquired her uncle after lunch, as they were preparing to go back.
'Not right enough to change places with any one; but they were better to-day, I must say.'