The two girls arrived in the drawing-room at the same moment, and there, according to his new practice, they found Mr Clay, who had taken to coming properly into the drawing-room and going into dinner with his women-folk. His face lightened as he saw the two girls; but instead of offering his arm to Horatia, he gave it to his wife.
Mrs Clay did not take it for a moment. Such an attention had never been paid her before in all their married life, for long before Mark Clay had gained his wealth he had ceased to show any civility to his wife.
Sarah was as much surprised as her mother, though she had more tact than to show it. Horatia looked pleased, but said nothing.
In the middle of dinner one of the footmen, who had gone out to get a dish, came in with perturbed countenance, and said something to Sykes in an undertone.
'Impossible,' said the butler. 'Say we're at dinner, and they must wait.'
'They say they won't wait,' murmured the footman, and added something more, which apparently startled Sykes, who, giving some orders to the under-footmen, left the room, and after a short absence came back and said to Mr Clay, 'Excuse me, Mr Clay, but you're wanted just a minute.'
'Wanted?' exclaimed the millionaire, with a dark flush on his face. 'Tell them to be off, whoever it is.'
'Please, Mr Clay, sir, excuse me, but if you'd see them a minute. It's a deputation from the mill,' insisted Sykes.
Mr Mark Clay turned with a face distorted by rage; but before he could say a word Horatia cried, 'Oh Mr Clay, do let me come with you and listen to the deputation. I do so want to hear real Yorkshiremen talk.'
'You can hear me. I talk broad enow at times,' said the millionaire, purposely speaking broad Yorkshire; 'and I've nowt to say to them.'