a castellated roof and a high tower at one end.
It was a very old family place, and the Lorrimers had lived there from
father to son for several hundreds of years. Like many ancient families,
their wealth had diminished rather than increased with the times. The
luxurious living, which has been in vogue more or less during the whole
of the present century, had obliged them to part with some of their fair
acres. The present owner had married for love, not for money. More lands
had to be sold to meet the wants of a large and vigorous family, and, at
the time when this story opens, the Lorrimers were, for their position,
decidedly poor, not rich.

Squire Lorrimer had one dread ever before his eyes. This was the fear of
having to part with the dear old Towers itself. If this blow fell, he
was certain that it would kill him. He trusted to be able to avert this
calamity by putting down expenses in all possible ways. There were too
few servants, therefore, for the size of the house, too few gardeners
for the size of the gardens, too few horses for the size of the stables.

Nevertheless, there was not in the whole length and breadth of the
county of Warwickshire, a jollier, happier, more rollicking household
than the Lorrimers. There were ten children, varying in age, from Molly,
who would be sixteen on her next birthday, to little Phil, who had not
yet attained the dignity of two years. There were six girls in the
family and four boys. The two elder boys went to a good grammar school
in the neighbourhood; the girls and Boris had a governess who taught
them at home. Neither boys nor girls were educated quite up to the
requirements of the times, but the father and mother were not going to
worry themselves over this fact. Mr. Lorrimer had very strong views with
regard to modern education. He had a hearty preference for big bodies
instead of big brains. He was intensely old-fashioned as regards all
modern views for the advancement of women, and said frankly that he
would rather his sons emigrated than spent their lives as city clerks.
He had a good deal of faith in things righting themselves naturally, and
as his wife believed him to be the cleverest and wisest man in the
universe, he was not tormented by any contrary opinions from her lips.

"The children will do very well," he used to say. "If I can only keep
the land together, and the old house for Guy to inherit after me, I
shall die a happy man. The girls are all pretty, unle