Molly to herself.

"It is over a week now since we have had even a line from father,"
whispered Nell to her own heart; "how can we care to go and laugh at the
Grange?"

"We are going from the dear old place in a week," thought Guy. "I don't
believe anyone can draw a smile out of me to-day."

But Boris was happy enough to go, for he was so young that any change
was delightful; and as his pets were also leaving the Towers, and he and
Kitty had just thought of a splendid way to prepare them for their
journey, he felt quite light-hearted once again, and that he would be
happy in his new home.

When Jane Macalister heard of the invitation, she flatly refused to
accept it.

"Go, if you choose to," she said, with a wave of her hand to the
assembled children; "you are young, and it's good for the young to
forget. But I shall take the opportunity of sewing up the feather beds
in their brown-holland cases. I vowed and declared that when this move
had to be made no outsider should come in to pack, so my hands are full,
and I have neither time nor heart for frivolity."

"But, Jane, you are specially asked; you are mentioned by name," said
Kitty.

"By name, am I?" asked Jane. "Who invited me? That chit of a Hester?"

"No, indeed; the great, magnificent Sir John himself."

"Hoots!" exclaimed Jane; "he's cracked over his second marriage, or he
wouldn't bother about an old body like me. I'll none of it. Go away
children, and let me get on with my work."

The children withdrew, apparently discomfited, but they guessed that
when the time came Jane would go with them, and it proved that they
were right.

She made no remark as she joined the group, only at intervals as they
all walked across the fields, the single expression, "Hoots!" passed her
lips.

In due course they all crossed the stile and entered the grounds of the
Grange. They had gone a little way, when Boris uttered a short, sharp
cry.

"Why, there's father!" he exclaimed. The others all looked up at this,
and then there was a rush and a helter-skelter, and Squire Lorrimer,
looking just like the Squire of old, no longer bent nor bowed, nor
broken hearted, was surrounded by his family.

Boris mounted on his father's shoulder, and Nell clasped the Squire's
hand and looked into his face. Mrs. Lorrimer came close to her husband's
side, and Molly stood behind him.

"Where's Guy?" said the Squire in a hoarse kind of voice. "Come here, my
boy, I want to say somethi