Red Rose and Tiger Lily | Page 6

upstairs, singing as she went--
"Old Daddy-long-legs wouldn't say his prayers, Catch him by his left
leg and throw him downstairs."
This was one of Nan's rhymes which Sir John detested. Her voice was
loud and somewhat piercing. He heard it in the drawing-room, and
went deliberately and shut the door.
"Miss Forest," he said to his young guest, "there are moments when I
feel extremely uneasy with regard to the fate of my youngest daughter."
"About Nan's fate?" exclaimed Annie, raising her arched eyebrows;
"why, she is quite the dearest little thing in the world. I wish you could
see her at school; she is the pet of all the girls at Lavender House."
"That may be," said Sir John, with a slightly sarcastic movement of his
thin lips; "but it does not follow that school pets are home pets. If my
good friend, Mrs. Willis, finds Nan's society so agreeable, I wish she
would arrange to keep her for the holidays."
Annie's young face, so round, so fresh, so charming, was fixed in grave
surprise on her elderly host.
"Don't you love Nan at all?" she asked, wonder in her tone.
Sir John had been giving Miss Forest credit for great tact. Up to this

moment, he had considered her a very pretty, agreeable little girl, who
would be an acquisition in the house. Now he winced; she had trodden
very severely on one of his corns.
"I naturally have a regard for my child," he said, after a pause, "and I
presume that I show it best by having her properly educated and
disciplined in her youth."
"Oh, no, I don't think you do," said Annie. "You must forgive me for
saying frankly what I really think. I used to be like Nan when I was a
little girl, and I'd never have changed--never--never, I'd never have
become thoughtful for others, I'd always have been an unmitigated
horror to all my friends if my father had treated me like that. He's not a
bit like you, Sir John. I don't mean to compare him to you for a moment.
He is quite a rough sort of man, and he has led a rough life; but, oh dear
me, from the time he came back from Australia, and I knew that I had a
living father, I cannot tell you what a difference there has been in my
life. I have generally spent my holidays with him, and he has loved me
so much that I have loved him back again, and have learnt to know
exactly what will please him and make him happy. Nothing tamed me
so much as the knowledge that I was necessary to my father's happiness.
I am sure," added Annie in a low voice, and with a suspicion of tears in
her eyes, "that it would be just the same with dear little Nan."
She broke down suddenly, half afraid of her own temerity. There was
silence for nearly half a minute then Sir John rose from his chair, and,
going over to a lamp which was slightly smoking, turned it down.
"If your father has been in Australia," he said, turning again and
looking fixedly at his young visitor, "you will be interested in books on
that country. I have got all Henry Kingsley's novels. You will find them
in the library. Ask Hester to show you the book-case."
He strode deliberately out of the room, and Annie had to own to herself
that she felt crushed.
CHAPTER III.

TWO PROVERBS.
Hester Thornton and Annie Forest had been educated at the same
school--the well-known Lavender House. The fame of this school, the
noble character of its mistress, the excellent training which each girl
who went there received, formed a recommendation for each young
student in after life. Hester and Annie had gone through severe storms
in these early days. Their friendship had been cemented under the
influence of great trouble. It was exactly a year now since Hester had
been suddenly sent for from her busy and happy school life to take care
of her father through a dangerous illness. He found her company so
sweet, her skill and tact in managing his house so great, that he
resolved not to allow her to go back to school again. Annie Forest was
now, therefore, the head girl at Lavender House. She was Mrs. Willis's
right hand; her help and support in every way. Annie was as great a
favourite as of old, and as love and kindness had developed all the best
side of her character, she was no longer the tomboy of the school, nor
the one who was invariably the ringleader when mischief was afloat.
She was still impulsive, however--eager, impatient--for such a nature as
hers must fight on to the