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Rh part of the three Garden girls. It was so strong that it was as if they had not thought of it before; Mr. Moulton’s face was quite red, his manner distinctly nervous, and his wife looked greatly disturbed. Mary found it difficult to greet them, while Jane, who was like an electrical wire in receiving impressions, turned pale and put out her hand to her old friends without speaking.

“My dears,” Mr. Moulton began, having cleared his throat portentously, “I have an extraordinary announcement to make to you; nothing bad, so don’t be frightened, but it will certainly amaze you. I don’t know how to begin. Do you know your mother’s name?”

“There!” exclaimed Florimel involuntarily. “Jane said it was money, but I knew it was the nobility!”

“Lynette Devon, wasn’t it, Mr. Moulton?” said Mary, with a reproving glance at Florimel.

“Lynette Devon was her maiden name,” assented Mr. Moulton, glancing at his wife, who sat nervously on the edge of her chair, as if prepared to render any sort of aid to any one instantly. “You never heard of the manner nor time of her death, did you?” Mr. Moulton went on. “No!” he added as the three girls shook