Part 26 (1/2)

”Well, Jane,” said the young girl in a steady voice; ”what is the news?”

”It's for you all to know, my dears,” said Jane Macalister in a steady voice. ”Your mother has asked me to break it to you all. It's just a question whether you shall all hear it together, or whether Molly shall hear it by herself first. I think Molly must decide that point.”

”I'll hear it with the others,” said Molly.

As she spoke she went and sat down in a vacant chair near Nell.

”Perhaps it is not such news to Nell and me as you think,” she said.

”Anyhow, we are prepared to hear it.”

”It's 'perhaps' come true,” said Nell in a faint voice, looking at Molly with the ghost of a smile.

”Dear, dear,” exclaimed Kitty, ”whatever it is, let's out with it. I don't suppose we are a set of cowards, any of us. I'm going to guess what it is beforehand; it's that father's mare has broken her knees; that's about the worst thing that _could_ happen. Father sent for the mare to London a week ago; don't you remember, Guy, and when he was riding her in the park she fell and broke her knees; that's it, you bet.”

”Do shut up,” exclaimed Guy.

”You bet I'm right,” replied Kitty, flushed and defiant.

Under no other possible circ.u.mstances would Kitty have dared to say ”you bet” in the presence of Jane Macalister.

”Well, my dears,” said poor Jane, looking round at all the eager faces, ”I'd better read your mother's letter aloud. I've read it three times to myself, and have got over the choky business; so now I can read it aloud without breaking down. This is what your mother says, children. If I stand up, my loves, you'll all hear it better.”

Jane Macalister stood up at the end of the long table. All the children dropped their spoons, and knives, and forks, as they listened to her.

”MY DEAR JANE,” she began.

Here she paused.

”Your mother and I,” she said, ”have been Jane and Lucy to each other ever since we were children.”

”Who cares about that rot now?” murmured angry Kitty. Harry gave her a pinch which make her scream.

”You shut up,” she said back to him. ”I must say something or I'll 'splode.”

”MY DEAR JANE,” continued the governess,

”I must ask you to break the news as you best can to the poor children. The Squire and I have done all that lay in the power of mortals to avert the blow. But it has been G.o.d's will that we should not succeed. You can tell Molly by-and-by how it is that her dear father has got into such terrible money difficulties, but now the all-important thing for the children to know is this.... The Towers is sold, and we must all go away from the dear home we have loved so long. The Squire is terribly upset, and cannot bring himself to come back just at once, but I am returning to-morrow.

There is nothing for us now but to bear up and make the best of things. It is not so hard on any of us as it is on the Squire.--Believe me, dear Jane, your affectionate friend,

”LUCY LORRIMER.”

There was dead silence after the letter had been read. Then quite suddenly the terrible and unexpected sound of Nell's weeping filled the room.

”Oh, father,” sobbed Nell. ”Oh, father's face; oh, father's face.”

She hid her head on Molly's shoulder and moaned in the most broken-hearted way. Boris, too, looked very pale. He remembered the pressure of the hand which had held his the night before. He heard the words which were commonplace enough, once again, and he saw the haggard lines round the lips and round the kindly eyes.

Boris slipped away from his own side of the table. He went up to Nell and began to kiss her.