The band, a local one, struck up 'La Rinka,' and even Mr Clay exclaimed, 'That's something to look at, Polly, ain't it? There ought to be some folk asked to see 'em do it.'
At that moment Horatia and Sarah, still with linked hands, skated up to them, and Sarah said, 'Horatia wishes we could have a skating-party this afternoon. It sounds rather absurd in August; but really the weather is more like November, so I dare say people will like to come.'
'They'll come right enough if I ask 'em to Balmoral,' said Mr Clay, with his usual laugh. 'There's not many refuses my invitations.'
Sarah felt her lip curl; but the thought of Horatia checked her. She gave her a quick look to see if she, too, was disgusted at this boasting, and felt almost cross with her schoolfellow when, with a bright smile, she answered, 'Then do ask them, Mr. Clay. I don't wonder that your invitations are popular; you do have such good ideas for entertaining your guests. When could we have them? To-morrow?'
'You'd better have them to-day. Who knows but to-morrow may be summer again, and then it'll be too hot for rinking. We'll just 'phone up a hundred or so.'
'A hundred?' gasped Horatia, as she thought of the preparation a party of that kind would require at her own home.
'Oh, they won't all be able to come, but half will; and mother'll give orders for the spread. And now I must be off. Good-bye, and enjoy yourselves.' And the millionaire, with a brusque nod, was off.
Mrs Clay soon followed him, and the girls skated for another hour, and then decided to stop, so as not to be tired for the afternoon.
'Well, mother, have you got victuals for seventy or so?' inquired Mark Clay when they all met at lunch.
'Yes, Mark, the chef is seein' to all that, an' 'e is sure to 'ave everythin' to do you credit.'