ear. She believed that
all the world loved her. Why not? She was perfectly willing to love all
the world back again. If it chose to hate her, she could and would hate
it in return with interest; but, then, why should it? The world was a
good place to Nan Thornton up to the present.

Now, Sir John dreaded his impulsive younger daughter more than words
can say. Perhaps somewhere in his heart he had a certain fatherly
admiration for her, but if so it did not show itself in the usual
fatherly way. Annie Forest was at the present moment absorbing his
attention.

Annie was between sixteen and seventeen years of age; she was still, of
course, quite a child in Sir John's eyes, but she was undoubtedly very
pretty--she had winning ways and bright glances. Her little speeches
were full of wit and repartee, and she was naturally so full of tact
that she knew when a word would hurt, and therefore seldom said it.

When Nan entered the room in which a hasty supper had been prepared for
the hungry travellers, she found her father and Annie talking pleasantly
to one another at one end of the table, while Hester presided over the
tea equipage at the other.

"Here you are, little whirlwind," said Sir John, slipping his arm round
his younger daughter's waist and drawing her for a moment to his side.

Nan looked at him soberly. She gazed into his eyes and examined the
curves of his lips, and noted with satisfaction the wrinkles on his
brow, the crows' feet at the corner of each eye, and some strong lines
which betokened the advance of years in the lower part of his face.

"You're too old," she said, in a contemplative voice. "I'm so
glad--you're much too old."

She stroked his deepest wrinkle affectionately as she spoke.

Now Sir John hated being considered old, and an angry wave of colour
mounted to his forehead.

"As usual, you are a most impolite little girl," he said. "I do not
trouble myself to inquire what your sage remark means, nor why you
rejoice in the fact of my possessing the infirmities of years; but I
wish to repeat to you a proverb which I hope you will bear in mind, at
least, when in _my_ presence during the holidays, 'Little girls should
be seen and not heard.' Now go to your seat."

Sir John released his hold of Nan's broad waist and turned to Annie.

"Yes, a good deal of the country is flat," he said, "but we have some
pretty drives. Are you fond of riding?"

"I should be if I had a chance," replied Annie; "