Part 27 (1/2)

”That's only because you feed them,” she said then. ”If you didn't feed them, they'd love me just as well. Ah, yah; who's right? You can't answer me now, can you? It's only cupboard-love animals have got, and that proves that they have no souls.”

”It seems to me,” said Harry, in a would-be sarcastic voice, ”that very much the same thing may be said of some girls. Who caught you stealing a peach a week ago? Ha, ha, Miss Kitty.”

”Oh, for pity's sake, children, don't quarrel,” exclaimed Molly.

”That's what I'm telling 'em,” said Boris in a tearful voice; ”and I think my big rabbit _has_ a soul, and I'm awful 'feared it will kill him if he leaves his corner of the hutch.”

”Jane,” interrupted Molly, ”Guy and I are going over to the Grange to tell poor Nora about mother's letter, but we'll both be home before mother returns.”

”Very well, my dear,” replied Jane Macalister. ”You'd better not have Nora back, though, Molly, for she's quite certain not to be sensible about matters, and that's the only thing left to us now. For heaven's sake, I say, let us keep our senses and not give way to sentiment at a crisis like this. Go, my dear; tell her that she must take it in a quiet, matter-of-fact way, and not consider herself in the very least.

The Squire and your mother, and Guy are the three victims; the rest of us are of no consequence; go, Molly.”

Jane blew her nose very hard after uttering this oration, and there were suspicious red rims round her eyes.

Molly joined Guy, and they started on their walk to the Grange.

Guy had now quite got over the stunned feeling which oppressed him.

There was a great deal of grit in all the Lorrimers, and Guy and Molly had both even a larger amount of this most valuable quality than the younger children. The ground, therefore, no longer swam under the brave boy's feet, and Molly, now that she was obliged to act, and now that she knew exactly what was going to happen, felt really less unhappy than before the blow had fallen.

It was little after ten o clock when the children reached the Grange.

They found Hester and Annie out in the garden picking flowers, and Nora, looking very happy and very pretty in her new pink cambric, was lying under a shady tree on the lawn.

”Hullo, what have you come over so early for?” she asked of the two, as, dusty and hot, they came up to her side. Mrs. Willis was sitting near Nora, and reading aloud to her. Nora felt immensely flattered by her attentions, and yet at the same time not absolutely at home with her. Mrs. Willis could read character at a glance. She had taken an immense fancy to Molly, and pitied Nora without admiring her.

”She is a shallow little thing,” she murmured to herself. ”Pretty, of course, but nothing will ever make her either great or wise. Sweet Molly is one of the angels of the world.”

She rose now to greet the brother and sister as they approached. The trouble round Guy's handsome eyes was not lost upon her. Poor Molly looked untidy, and quite worn and old.

”Oh, how the ball has f.a.gged you!” exclaimed Nora; ”see how fresh I am, and kind Mrs. Willis is reading me a charming story.”

”I won't read any more at present, my dear,” said Mrs. Willis, ”as no doubt your brother and sister want to talk to you.”

”Oh, I'm sure they don't,” said Nora; ”they can't have anything at all particular to say, and I am so immensely interested. I want to know how Lucile conquered her difficulties with the French grammar. I have such a fellow feeling for her, for I always detest grammar. Please, Mrs.

Willis, don't go away.”

”I'll come back presently,” said Mrs. Willis; she crossed the lawn as she spoke, leaving the fascinating book open on Nora's sofa.

”How tiresome of you both to come and interrupt,” said Nora in her crossest tone. ”Molly, you look positively dishevelled; and Guy, you needn't wear those worn-out tennis shoes when you come to the Grange.

You really, neither of you, have the least idea of what is due to our position.”

”Our position be hanged,” growled Guy. ”Look here, we have come to say something, and as it's particularly unpleasant, you had better listen as quietly as you can.”

”Then I'm sure I don't want to hear it; I hate and detest unpleasant things. You know I do, don't you, Molly?”

”Yes, darling,” said Molly, kneeling down by her; ”but sometimes bad things must come and we must be brave and bear them.”