do not know quite how matters stand, and I want to learn the exact
truth."

"I am very glad to hear you speak so, Miss de la Molle," answered the
lawyer, "because I was trying to make up my mind to broach the
subject, which is a painful one to me. Frankly, then--forgive me for
saying it, your father is absolutely ruined. The interest on the
mortgages is a year in arrear, his largest farm has just been thrown
upon his hands, and, to complete the tale, the mortgagees are going to
call in their money or foreclose."

At this statement, which was almost brutal in its brief
comprehensiveness, Ida turned pale as death, as well she might, and
dropped her fork with a clatter upon the plate.

"I did not realise that things were quite so bad," she murmured. "Then
I suppose that the place will be taken from us, and we shall--shall
have to go away."

"Yes, certainly, unless money can be found to take up the mortgages,
of which I see no chance. The place will be sold for what it will
fetch, and that now-a-days will be no great sum."

"When will that be?" she asked.

"In about six or nine months' time."

Ida's lips trembled, and the sight of the food upon her plate became
nauseous to her. A vision arose before her mind's eye of herself and
her old father departing hand in hand from the Castle gates, behind