"What!" she exclaimed. "What! Jem! Oh, Tom, dear, this can't be true!"
"I have no reason," answered the Rector grimly, "to suppose that it is untrue."
Mrs. Glynde was one of those unfortunate persons who seem only to have the power of aggravating at a crisis. In their way they are useful as serving to divert the mind; but they usually come in for more than their need of abuse.
The poor little woman laid the newspaper gently down by her husband's elbow, and looked at him with a certain air of grandeur and strength. The instinct that arouses the mother wren to peck at the schoolboy's hand at her nest was strong in this subdued little old lady.
"Something," she said, "must be done. How are we going to tell Dora?"
The Rector was a man who never went straight at the fence, before him. He i
