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ry, very hard, Nell, and you have wise thoughts, though you are so young. Tell me what they are; tell me at once." Molly knelt on the grass as she spoke and put her arms round Nell, who leant up against her and laid her head on her shoulder. "Now, Nell, speak." Nell rubbed her cheek against Molly's, as if she found great comfort in the contact. "I think that mother is unhappy," she said, "and that, that we won't get the presents." "Come along and let's find Jane Macalister," exclaimed Molly suddenly. She caught Nell's hand and rushed with her towards the house. When Jane was not teaching, she was, generally, cooking, or mending clothes, or putting the store-room in order. Jane never wasted a moment of her time, and she was extremely fond of taking up all the loose threads of work which other people had dropped. When the girls, therefore, now found themselves in the great central hall, and Nell's clear, high voice shouted for Jane, the single word, "store-room," seemed to echo back to them from somewhere in the clouds. The store-room, where the largest supply of preserves and dried goods was kept, was high up in the old tower--higher up even than the schoolroom. "You stay downstairs, Nell," exclaimed Molly; "I wish to see Jane alone." She reached the spiral stairs, which she began to mount quickly. By-and-by with panting breath she arrived at the store-room. The door was open, but there was no Jane. "Where are you, Jane Macalister?" called Molly. "Linen press," called Jane from still higher up. Molly mounted once more. Jane, with an old pillow-case pinned round her head and a huge apron on, was on her knees sorting feathers. "What are you doing?" exclaimed Molly. "Don't speak to me for a moment, Molly; I'm in a perfect rage," exclaimed Jane. "There stand out of the draught, child, or you'll get all this fluff into your hair. I have just discovered that the feathers put into these last pillows were not properly cured, so I've been obliged to take them all out, and I'm sprinkling them with lime. Faugh, what a mess the place is in. This is what comes of taking in an incompetent kitchen-maid like Susan Hicks. She did not half do the work of sorting and curing these feathers. Now, what is it you want, Molly? You can see for yourself that I'm up to my eyes in work." "I can," said Molly. "Well, I'll wait for a moment." "You'll wait for a moment!" screamed Jane. "I tell you I shan't have done f
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