'You won't see him again. He never comes into the drawing-room in the evening, thank goodness!' said Sarah. The 'thank goodness' slipped out from habit, and she was rather glad that Horatia did not notice it.
'We shall just 'ave a quiet evenin'. Mr Clay likes to smoke 'is pipe after dinner in 'is study, an' I go an' talk to 'im sometimes. So per'aps you won't mind if I go an' leave you two to enjoy yourselves alone.—Your father seems quite cheerful to-night.—I think you an' 'e will get on, my dear,' said Mrs Clay, who was quite cheerful herself, owing to her husband being in a pleasant humour.
It was the first peaceful dinner they had had since Sarah came home; Mark Clay was never a very pleasant companion, and the dinner-table was very often the scene of his rages, but Sarah seemed to anger her father without even opening her mouth, and her mother, much as she missed her only daughter, was generally relieved when she returned to school.
But before Mrs Clay thought it was time for her husband to have finished his wine and retired to his study to smoke, to the surprise of all three he appeared in the drawing-room, without the obnoxious pipe, and with quite a pleasant expression for him.
'I'm thinking this lass will be dull with only us plain folk, and so I've got a concert for her. Now, what would you like to hear—the opera at Covent Garden, the Queen's Hall concert, or what?'
'Oh, how lovely! The opera, please. That is better than rinking in your parquet hall, Mr Clay,' cried Horatia, clapping her hands.
'Rink in my hall!' cried the millionaire, scandalised; and then, seeing Horatia's twinkling eyes, he laughed his hoarse laugh, and said, 'You'd have Sykes after you if you did. What do you want to rink for? Senseless pastime, I call it. Now, skating I can understand; it's healthy exercise, and you might make use of it in cold countries; but rinking—what's the use on't?'
'Oh, it's such fun! I do love it so!' cried Horatia.
'Well, now, if it's like that, I'll see what we can do. I am afraid I can't get a rink built for you in a day, but I'll see what we can do. For to-night, you'll have to put up with the opera,' said Mr Clay good-naturedly.
Horatia thanked him profusely, and after he had left she said to Sarah, 'Oh Sarah, you are rich! I'm sorry I ever came here to stay with you.'