s, 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 circumstances 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 God'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.

"O