'It would have been worse if some of them had had their way,' observed Naomi.
'Then you do know something about it?' exclaimed Sarah.
'I know what they're all talking about, but what's true and what's false I couldn't tell you.'
'Is my mother dressed for dinner?' inquired Sarah suddenly, abandoning the attempt to pump Naomi.
'No, Miss Sarah; the mistress has been lying down ever since she came in, with Miss Horatia.'
'Lying down with Horatia?' ejaculated Sarah.
'I mean lying down, with Miss Horatia sitting beside her holding her hand like a daughter,' Naomi corrected herself.
Sarah coloured violently, and Naomi wondered what made her do so. Poor Sarah was being made to feel all round what a poor sort of daughter she was, and she felt irritably that it was only since Horatia came that this fact had been obvious. But Sarah was wrong. Her attitude towards her parents had always been noticeable, and her brother and mother had constantly upbraided her with it; but it was Horatia's coming which had brought this home to her, and she did not like it.
'That will do, Naomi,' she said, giving an impatient tug to the sash that the maid was tying, and she ran lightly down the corridors and the wide marble staircase to the dining-room.
Mr and Mrs Clay and Horatia were all there, and dinner was begun; and Sarah noticed, to her annoyance, that all three were dressed in the clothes they had worn for the picnic. 'Oh, you haven't changed! I have; that's why I am late.'