and a riot in the town," suggested
Annie, getting excited over the idea. "The police may have to guard the
bank and the Bank house--soldiers may have to come from Nenthorn!"

"Oh, surely not," cried Dora; "the poor Careys--who could treat them so
cruelly?"

"No, no," said Mrs. Millar; "there is one good thing, your father does
not think there will be much ill-feeling, or anything like an angry mob,
or tumult--not even when the people see the closed doors. There has
always been such confidence in Carey's Bank, the Careys have been
respected for generations; even now it is James Carey's misfortune and
not his fault, though he may have been misled and imposed upon; and,
after all, the depositors are tolerably sure of their money in time. But
your father is afraid," she ended, her voice sinking, "that it will go
hard with the shareholders."

"And poor father is one of them," said Annie quickly.

"Poor father!" echoed Dora piteously; "and you, poor, poor mother, to
have to think of us, and break it to us, while your heart is with
father."

"And he has not even been left in peace for a single afternoon, to make
up his mind what we shall do," lamented his sympathetic wife. "As usual,
so many tiresome people have fallen ill--as if they did it on purpose,
and sent for him."

"I daresay they could not help it," said Annie, "and I don't think it
would quite suit father if they were never ill."

"Don't speak so unfeelingly, child," remonstrated her mother; "well, I
suppose I gave you a bad example," she corrected herself immediately,
"but I have been in such trouble since lunch time."

"Poor mother!" repeated Dora in a voice that was only more soft and
caressing because of its sorrowfulness. She was very fond of her mother,
who reciprocated the special fondness, while Dr. Millar was rather
inclined to favour Annie and Rose, and both father and mother petted
May.

"Will it ruin us, mother?" inquired Annie directly, but before her
mother could answer her, Annie's practical mind took a sudden flight. It
went straight back to the purchases which she and Rose had been making
that afternoon. They had been at "Robinson's," of all places. But Tom
Robinson was only to be seen in the glass office, or walking about the
place in the morning, at hours which these two customers had carefully
avoided. Dora's heart had quaked all the same, in dread of an event
which, bad enough when it was confined to a passing bow, or a limp
hand-sha