'Well, miss, if you will have it, you will; but, of course, I only know what little Naomi has told me of what she has heard down the town to-day, and of course it mayn't be true,' said Nancy.
Horatia stamped her foot with impatience. 'Never mind whether it's true or not; tell me what she said,' entreated Horatia.
'Naomi says that her sister Maria Jane says'—Horatia began to think that the tale was going to be too complicated altogether, but the old woman went on—'that the men say there wouldn't have been a brick left of Balmoral this morning if they hadn't been given way to yesterday; and that's your doing, miss.'
Horatia coloured a little with pleasure. 'Then what on earth are you making this fuss about? The danger is over, as you see,' she cried eagerly.
Old Nancy shook her head. 'You haven't heard the rest. That old stupid—well, I beg his pardon, as we're in his house, and you seem to like him, miss; though how you can, or what you can see in him, and after how you've been used'——she said.
'Oh, never mind all that, Nanny; do tell me the rest! Mrs Clay will be calling me again, so pray make haste!' exclaimed Horatia.
'Well, he goes down to the mills and undoes all the good you've done by saying it was the last time a mill-hand would put foot in his park, for he built that to be away from them, and he isn't going to have his peace disturbed; and it wouldn't do them any good either, for he'd let them have their way this time to please you, but it was the first and last time he'd do such a thing.' Nancy stopped.
'That's not all. Go on, Nanny,' said Horatia.
'Well, Naomi's sister, you know—she hates Mr Clay, of course'——began Nancy.
'Why of course?' interrupted Horatia.