d enamoured of art
in her way, she was able to comprehend that if Annie could do that
worthy deed, her life would be greater in a sense, fuller in its
humanity, perhaps also sweeter than that of the most famous and
successful painter.

Annie had always taken a lively interest in her father's profession, and
he had liked her to do so. He had been fond of talking to her about it,
and enlightening her on some of its leading principles. He had even
pressed her into his service in little things, and been gratified by the
hereditary firmness and lightness of grasp and touch, the control over
her own nerves and power of holding those of others in check, the quick
and correct faculty of observation she had displayed. But with all his
loyal allegiance to the calling which had been his father's before it
was his, which he would have liked to see his son fill, if a son had
been born to him, he was taken aback and well-nigh dismayed, as her
mother was, when Annie came and told them quietly that she had made up
her mind, if they would consent, to go into an hospital and be trained
for a nurse. He laid before her as calmly and clearly as he could the
conditions of the undertaking, and reminded her that it could not be
gone into by halves, while he thought, as he spoke, that Annie was not
the style of young woman to go into anything by halves.

Mrs. Millar followed with a trembling recital of the painfulness, the
absolute horror to a young girl of many of the details of the office.
But Annie was not shaken in the least. "I should not mind that," she
asserted with conviction. "I know there must be strict discipline and
hard trying work, with no respite or relaxation to speak of; but I am
young and strong, fitter to stand such an ordeal than most girls of my
age are qualified. I am too young, you say? Yes, I admit that; it is a
pity--at least I know I have always reckoned myself too young when the
thought crossed my mind six months--a year ago, of leaving home and
becoming trained for a nurse."

"You don't mean to say, Annie, that you ever thought of going out into
the world before our misfortunes in connection with the bank?" cried
both father and mother in one breath.

Annie hung her shapely head a little, then held it up, and confessed
frankly, "Yes, I have. Oh, you must forgive me. It was not from any
failure of kindness on your part, or, I trust, any failure on mine to
appreciate your kindness, for I believe you are the best, d