iffe, without making herself in the least disagreeable, without saying one single rude thing, yet managed to ta
ttle cross, and no one exactly knowing what to do-clustered about the open drawing-room windows, i
cing lessons from a master who came once a week to instruct her and other girls in the winter season, and she had occasionally go
lear voice w
gs in a twinkling. Where is Mrs. Merriman? She will play the dance music. O
er would not like the rugs being disturbed. The room is arran
ored pa
ourse," said Phyllis Flower. "I'll just
d darted out of the room, returning in a
he light fantastic toe as long as ever we please, and t
r a moment on Lucy's face. Those eyes said in the most provoking manner, "I told you so." And then some one went to the
nd by-and-by Lucy forgot herself, and could not help laughing when Rosamund seized her round the waist and whirled her rou
in quite a heart-whole manner, she raised her eyes and saw no less a person than Mr. Merrima
ped at once, and said to Lucy, "Is t
" sai
ntroduce
longed to give any sort of excuse, but none would come to h
e," she said, "and she wa
Cunliffe," said Mr. Merriman; and then
elp straining her ears and trying to catch the subject of Rosamund's conversation. Why, she was absolutely
are tiring father," said Lucy at last, runni
ntensely interested.-You must tell me that story again,
nto tears. Phyllis's eyes again met her face, and she had to restrain her
r Jane, and rearranged the drawers, putting them into another part of the room; and complained about the wardrobe, saying that she would like it put opposite the door instead of in its present position. And whatever she wi
a truly Parisian accent, and a pretty, graceful way about her. Miss Archer was a stolid-looking woman of about five-and-thirty years of age. She had a long talk, on her arrival
ion at Miss Archer when she too
girl. "She will force all these girls to behave prop
llis Flower to change with her, and sat down close to Miss Archer. During tea she talked to the English gove
hought out so carefully, and father has approved of, means to establish a girl like Rosamund Cunliffe here as our leader, so that we are forced to d
owever, as she was walking about in front of the house, wondering if she should ever know a happy
amund Cunliffe seems!
g her," said Lucy. "I don't
ttle Lucy Merriman, are you not-the daug
a
e has always b
e," said Lucy a
when lessons really begin, and you get into working order, you will be different. You will have to take
e face, almost of despair, towards Miss Archer. "I will do anyt
ve you to expect that I should promise you anything?" but
at you wish
hing-last night all the drawing-room arrangements, her own bedroom afterwards; then, to-day, t
r looked t
clever girl," she said. "She evidently has a great deal of strength of charac
ne of the most affectionate people on earth. She had the power of taking an unlimited number of girls, and boys, too, into her capacious heart. She could be spent for them, and live for them, and never once give a thought to herself. Now, in addition to the pleasure of having so many young people in the house, she knew she was helping her husband and relieving his mind from weight
him? He had been looking very pale of late. His health was seriously undermined, and the doctors had spoken gravely of his case. He must be relieved. He m
ll sorts of wild flowers were always growing. Here might be seen the blue forget-me-not, the meadow-sweet, great branches of wild honeysuckle, dog-roses, and many other flowers too numerous to mention. As a rule, Lucy loved flowers, as most count
en uttered a perfect shout of welcome,
inly a very plain woman. She had a large, pale face, somewhat flat, with wide nostrils, a long upper lip, small pale-blue eyes, and a somewhat bulgy forehead. Plain she undoubtedly was, but no one who knew her well ever gave her looks a thought
n of Dartford. Nobody in all the world could be more welcome to the child in he
ad to see you! But what
quite six months-and he said he wanted the house to himself, and no excuse for any one to come in. And he just asked me if I'd like to have a peep into the country; that always me
hink I wanted you, Aunt Susan, more
arm as she spoke, and they turned and
f the wild birds, and thank her Maker that she was born into so good a world. Nothing rested her, as she expressed it, like a visit into the country. Nothing made the dreadful things she had often to encounter in town seem more endurable than the sweet-peas, t
d. "If we go down this path, and note the
repli
ut tell me, how is your father, dear? I see y
He has had better nights of late, an
my love, for worry of som
e girls,
irls, m
chers, Mademoiselle Omont and Miss Archer, arrived to-day. And the girls don't suit me-I suppose I am so accu
Susan, giving a quick glance at Lucy's po
pause, "when I tell you that I used to be fearfully
, I simply don
from my dear father. He took great pains to point out to me my special fault, as he called it; and his words had a wonderful effect, and I
please, Aunt Su
and strong, and had excellent abilities, and people thought a great deal about them; but no one thought anything about me. I was the eldest, but I was never counted one way or the other as of the slightest consequence. My people were quite rich, and Florence and Janet were beautifully dressed, and taken down to the drawing-room to see visitors; but I was never noticed at all. I could go if I liked, but it did not gratify anybody, so by d
went to Rugby, and at Christmas he brought some of his school-fellows back with him, and they paid the most absurd attentions to Florence and Janet, and they snubb
he could take us about and give us a good time. My mother was exceedingly anxious that the twins-I forgot to tell you that they were twins-should go, and she said so to me. She said they wanted change of air, as they
uite fair, and you shall have the
f her prettiest necklaces, and Janet some wonderful embroidered gloves which had been given to her by Roger at Christmas. But I was
e. The fever which had been lurking in the town for some time reached our house, and the two beautiful little twins were smitten with it. And b
ully sad; but how could you know? And you could not be blamed-yo
ad a very bad time. It was soon afterwards that my dear father wrote to me, and I shall always keep his letter. Since then I have never been jealous of any one, and I would
I have seen you, I mean to do my very best. I know it is remarkably brave of mother to have started the school and to have the girls here, and I know I ought to help her, and not to be cross because her i
, my dear?" a
come to you for a week to the Rectory at Dar
al-tickets, reading aloud to the children, rushing about from this place to the other trying to