he was not beautiful--not then.
She was much too sharp featured; the little pointed chin protruding
into space to quite a dangerous extent. Her large dark eyes were her
one redeeming feature. But the level brows above them were much too
ready with their frown. A sallow complexion and nondescript hair
deprived her of that charm of colouring on which youth can generally
depend for attraction, whatever its faults of form. Nor could it
truthfully be said that sweetness of disposition afforded compensation.

"A self-willed, cantankerous little imp I call her," was Mrs. Travers's
comment, expressed after one of the many trials of strength between
them, from which Miss Kavanagh had as usual emerged triumphant.

"It's her father," explained Abner Herrick, feeling himself unable to
contradict.

"It's unfortunate," answered Mrs. Travers, "whatever it is."

To Uncle Ab himself, as she had come to call him, she could on occasion
be yielding and affectionate; but that, as Mrs. Travers took care to
point out to her, was a small thing to her credit.

"If you had the instincts of an ordinary Christian child," explained
Mrs. Travers to her, "you'd be thinking twenty-four hours a day of what
you could do to repay him for all his loving kindness to you; instead
of causing him, as you know you do, a dozen heartaches in a week.
You're an ungrateful little monkey, and when he's gone you'll--"

Upon which Miss Kavanagh, not waiting to hear more, flew upstairs and,
locking herself in her own room, gave herself up to howling and
remorse; but was careful not to emerge until she felt bad tempered
again; and able, should opportunity present itself, to renew the
contest with Mrs. Travers unhampered by sentiment.

But Mrs. Travers's words had sunk in deeper than that good lady herself
had hoped for; and one evening, when Abner Herrick was seated at his
desk penning a scathing indictment of the President for lack of
firmness and decision on the tariff question, Ann, putting her thin
arms round his neck and rubbing her little sallow face against his
right-hand whisker, took him to task on the subject.

"You're not bringing me up properly--not as you ought to," explained
Ann. "You give way to me too much, and you never scold me."

"Not scold you!" exclaimed Abner with a certain warmth of indignation.
"Why, I'm doing it all--"

"Not what _I_ call scolding," continued Ann. "It's very wrong of you.
I shall grow up horrid if you don't help