CHAPTER IV.
THE MOTHER'S HELP "It's always the same," moaned Mrs.Lorimer.

"My poor children! They're never out of trouble." Avery stood still.

She had fled to the drawing-room to recover herself, only to find the lady of the house lying in tears upon the sofa there.

Mrs.Lorimer was very small and pathetic.
She had lost all her health long before in the bearing and nurturing of her children.

Once upon a time she must have possessed the delicate prettiness that characterized her eldest daughter Jeanie, but it had faded long since.