the poor old squire.' She went into the kitchen - went over the house with swift rapidity to gain news of her father's whereabouts.The servants knew no more than she did.Neither she nor they had heard what Cynthia, ever quick of perception, had done.The shutting of the front door had fallen on deaf cars, as far as others were concerned.Upstairs sped Molly to the drawing-room, where Mrs Gibson stood at the door, listening to the unusual stir in the house.'What is it, Molly? Why, how white you look, child!' 'Where's papa?' 'Gone out.What's the matter?' 'Where?' 'How should I know? I was asleep; Jenny came upstairs on her way to the bedrooms; she's a girl who never keeps to her work, and Maria takes advantage of her.' 'Jenny, Jenny!' cried Molly, frantic at the delay.'Don't shout, dear, - ring the bell.What can be the matter?' 'Oh, Jenny!' said Molly, half way up the stairs to meet her, 'who wanted papa?' Cynthia came to join the group; she too had been looking for traces or tidings of Mr Gibson.'What is the matter?' said Mrs Gibson.'Can nobody speak and answer a question?' 'Osborne Hamley is dead!' said Cynthia, gravely.'Dead! Osborne! Poor fellow! I knew it would be so, though, - I was sure of it.But Mr Gibson can do nothing if he's dead.Poor young man! I wonder where Roger is now? He ought to come home.' Jenny bad been blamed for coming into the drawing-room instead of Maria, whose place it was, and so had lost the few wits she had.To Molly's hurried questions her replies had been entirely unsatisfactory.A man had come to the back door - she could not see who it was - she had not asked his name: he wanted to speak to master, - master had seemed in a hurry, and only stopped to get his hat.'He will not be long away,' thought Molly, 'or he would have left word where he was going.But oh! the poor father all alone.' And then a thought came into her head, which she acted upon straight.'Go to James, tell him to put the side-saddle I had in November on Nora Creina.Don't cry, Jenny.
