The Carved Lions by Mary Louisa Molesworth

It would be an exaggeration to say that I did not sleep that night. Children often sleep very heavily when they are specially unhappy, and I was unhappy enough, even before Harriet's telling me what she had heard. But though I did sleep, I shall never forget that night. My dreams were so miserable, and when I awoke -- very early in the morning -- I could scarcely separate them from real things. It was actually not so bad when I was quite awake, for then I set myself thoroughly to think it all over.

I could not bear it -- I could not go on without knowing if it was true about father and mamma. I could not bear my life at school, if the looking forward to being with them again, before _very_ long, was to be taken from me. I must write a letter to mamma that no one would see; but first -- yes, first I must know how much was true. Whom could I ask? Haddie? Perhaps he knew no more than I did, and it was just as difficult to write to him as to mamma. Then suddenly another thought struck me -- Mrs. Selwood, old Mrs. Selwood, if I could but see her. Perhaps if I wrote to her she would come to see me; mamma always said she was very kind, though I know she did not care much for children, especially little girls. Still I thought I would try, though it would be difficult, for I should not like Miss Ledbury to know I had written to Mrs. Selwood secretly. She would be so angry, and I did not want to make Miss Ledbury angry. She was much nicer than the others. Once or twice the idea came to me of going straight to her and telling her how miserable I was, but that would bring in Harriet, and oh, how furious the other governesses would be! No, I would try to write to Mrs. Selwood -- only, I did not know her address. I only knew the name of her house -- Fernley -- that would not be enough, at least I feared not. I would try to find out; perhaps Harriet could ask some one when she went home.