Red Rose and Tiger Lily | Page 3

old nursey," said Nan; she rushed up the stairs, shouting her old
nurse's name as she went; her quick footsteps flew down the long
corridor, she pushed open the baize door which separated the nurseries
from the rest of the house, and in a moment found herself in the old
room.
Nan's nurse was a cherry-cheeked old woman of between sixty and
seventy years of age.
"Eh, my darling, and how did you get back without me hearing the

sound of the carriage wheels!" she exclaimed. "Eh dear, eh dear, I
meant to be down on the front steps to greet you, Miss Nan. Eh, but
you look bonny, and let me examine your hair, dear--I hope they cut the
points regular. If they don't, it will break away and not keep even."
"Oh, don't bother about my hair now," said Nan. "What does hair
signify when a child has just got home, and when she wants a kiss more
than anything else in the world? Now, nursey, sit down in that low
armchair and let us have a real hug. That's better; and how are you?
You look as jolly as ever."
"So I am, my pet; I'm as happy as the day is long since Miss Hetty has
come home and took the housekeeping over. I was in a mortal fret
before, with her at school and you at school, but now I think the danger
is past."
"What danger?" asked Nan; "you always were a dear old croak, you
know, nurse."
"Yes, pet, perhaps so; but I didn't fret without reason, you may be quite
sure of that."
"Well, what were you afraid of? You know I'm an awfully curious girl,
so you must tell me."
"It's a sin to be too curious, Miss Nan--it leads people into untold
mischief. Curiosity was the sin of Eve, and it's best to nip it in the bud
while you're young. Now let me brush out your hair, my darling, and
get you ready for supper."
"Yes, in a minute," said Nan. She pushed back the shady hat in which
she had traveled, and seated herself afresh on her nurse's knee.
"How do my kisses feel?" she asked, breathing a very soft one on each
of the old woman's cheeks.
"Eh, dear," said the nurse, "they're like fresh cream and strawberries."

"Well, you shall have six more if you tell me what your fears were."
Nurse looked admiringly back at Nan.
"You're just the audacious, contrary, troublesome bit of a thing you
always were," she said; "but somehow I can't resist you. There's no fear
now of anything happening, so you needn't be in a taking; but what did
put me out was this: I thought your father, Sir John, might be bringing a
new mistress here."
"What! a new mistress?--A housekeeper, do you mean?" Nan's brown
eyes were open at their widest.
"No, dearie, no, a wife--someone to take the head of the house. Men
like Sir John must have their comforts, and a house without a mistress
isn't as it ought to be. But there, Miss Hetty is here now, and that makes
everything right."
"But a new mistress," repeated Nan--"a new wife for father. Why,
she--she'd be a stepmother. Oh, how I'd hate her."
"Well, darling, there's not going to be any such person; it was only an
idle fear of your poor old nurse's that will never come to anything.
Forget that I said it to you, Miss Nan. Oh, my word! and there's the
gong, so supper is ready, and Sir John won't like to be kept waiting. Let
me brush out your hair, I won't be a minute. Now, there's my pretty. It's
good to have you back again, Miss Nancy. Only I misdoubt me that
you'll turn the house topsy-turvey, as you always and ever did."
While nurse was speaking, she was deftly and quickly changing Nan's
travel-stained frock for a white one, and was tying a coral pink sash
round her waist.
"Now you're ready," she said, giving the little figure a final pat.
Nan shook out her golden mane and went demurely downstairs--more
demurely than was her wont. The dawning of possible trouble filled her
sweet eyes. A new wife--a possible stepmother! Oh, no, by no

possibility could such a horror be coming; nevertheless, her full cup of
happiness was vaguely troubled by the thought.
CHAPTER II.
CRUSHED.
Sir John Thornton could be a very pleasant host. He was a reserved
man with a really cold nature. He disliked fuss and what he called
"ebullitions of affection;" he hated kissing and fondling. He liked to
treat even his nearest and dearest with ceremony, but he was a perfect
host--the little attentions, the small politenesses which the rôle of host
requires, suited his character exactly.