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."