WITH A ROSE IN HER HAIR.

Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 1524, 26 March 1886, Page 4

WITH A ROSE IN HER HAIR.

Notwithstanding its unmistakably shabby furniture, its faded and worn Turkey carpet, the pattern of which was stamped out of all recognition of the original design, and the presence of the heterogeneous, uutidy litter of juvenile properties scattered around, the old school-room at Tower House had a pleasant, homely look, in admirable keeping with the aspect of its occupants on such a bleak January afternoon. The bright fire, leaping up and crackling in the ample-old-fashion-ed fire-place, sent forth a ruddy glow which was reflected from the pretty maroon and while tea-service upon the table. A magnificent Perisian cat reclined luxuriously upon the hearth-rug. The furniture was composed of odds ana ends—hardly two chairs being alike—all antique, and all more or less rickety, whilst a high, shining, old-fash-ioned brass fender surrounded the hearth. The wind whistled drearily through the leal less branches of the trees on the lawn without) the rain beat in fitful gusts against the windows, and sent a shiver through the frame of a delicate-looking little boy of about eight years who sat in the lap of a young lady on one side of the biasing fire. The other occupants of the room were two girls, aged respectively eleven and thirteen, who, in attitudes more suggestive of comfort than elegance, reclined, the younger upon the hearth-rug in company with the cat, the other in a wicker-work arm-chair " That was a lovely story, Miss Lester, about ' Una and the Lion,' but I would rather hear the one about' Prince Pettitoes and the Princess Pearlioa,' " said the boy, in the querulous to ne °f » "cty »°d petted child. «• Well, Bertie, p y pet, I'll tell your story after tea—there is hardly time for it now." •• Ob, dear, I'm so sorry !" chimed in Katie from the hearth-run. " I have to learn my verbs then, and I'm sure to be listening to the story instead."

•' Stick your finger* in jour ears suegrsted Sibyl. " Surely, ihe c >ntinued, m the grating of carriage-wheels was heard on the gravel outside, "mamma and Mabel are not going out on such a miserable evening as thib!" •« Yrs," said Krt'le. " Don't you know they ate going to dine at Wych Abbey this evening and are going afterwards to Mrs Dallas's party P" " More simpletons they then!" exclaimed Sibyl, tossing back a mass of brown curls from a good-humoured, plain face. " I'd rather stay quietly at home and tell stories. We're twice as comfortable here, aren't we Miss Lester P"

" I am glad yon think so, dear." n Don't admire your taste, Mbyl. w said Katie, pulling the cat's ears as t v t spoke. " I should like to go out to parties and dinners, and to wear beautiful dresses like Mabel's. Oh, Miss Lester, did you see the dress Mabel is going to wear this evening. " No, indeed. Katie—l wish you would not think quite so much about these things." " But, Miss Lester, it is really delicious I" she exclaimed, in an animated voice.

" Delicious 1" repeated Sibyl, in a slightly oontimptuoui toot. "Wai it good to

" Mb* J, bow ridi' ulous vow ar! The dre-s iis all little f- Ids of white crepe Hsse over wlii'e sillf, and it's nil trimnitd with the lovliest pal- blu-h ros- s. It is perfectly exqusite!" And Katie sat up on the hearthrug and clasped her litt'e hmdi rapturously. " I think I can now account for your not having learned jour verbs," soid the governess, quietly. " Ka'ie, lam see a little girl like you to fond of finery." Katie sprang from the hearth-rug—like all impulsive children, Bhe was impatient under reproof; moreover, her vanity, which pervaded every detail of her little life, lod her to wish for everyone's good opinion. Putting her arms around Miss Lester's neck, she said, coaxingly—- ' Come, don't be vexed with me. I promise to learn my verbs quickly after tea. As Katie spoke the ichoolrom door was opened, and a servant entered bearing a large shallow basket filled with rare hothouse flowers. There were delicate trembling ferns, forced roses, and gardenias, sprays of glowing crimson blossoms, and delicatelytinted green leaves varied with dark, glossy sprays of myrtle. Placing the basket upon the table, the servant proceeded to light the lamp, saying, as she did so—- •' If you pleaw, Miss Lester, missus says will you moke up two bouquets for her and Mies Viner P Thomas has gone to Somers Town and there is no one else to do it."

Scarcely bad she completed her unwilling task when a great rustling in the passage without and a loud rattling of the door handle proclaimed the approach of a more illustrious personage than Jane The door was thrown open in an impressive manner, and there entered Mrs Josiah Viner, the legal mistress of Everil Lester's services. Bhe was a large, vulgar-looking, middle aged-woman, showily and expensively dressed. Accompanied by her eldest daughter Mabel, she advanced uncermoniously to where Everil sat, and, taking up the boquets, looked at them critically. Mabel was an undeniably handsome girl, tall and dignified looking, with blue eyes and golden hair. Glancing rather scornfully at the tastefully-arranged bouquets —which she could hare no more arranged than she could have eaten them—she said, with a supercilioue elevation of her eyebrows—- " Mamma, is it not possible that either of them can be intended for me!'*

•• Why not, my dear P" asked her mother with an unctuous smile on her rubicund, countenance. "Certainly," the continued ignoring Everill, whom she did not design to thank for the trouble she had taken " they are not to well arranged as if Thomas had done them | but we must take what we oan get." " You had better make up another bouquet for we," said Mabel, calmly, addresting herself to Everil. "My dress, as you ought to hare known, is white, with Jpale pink trimmings ; and you hare stupidly given me deep crimson roses and scarlet geraniums. Make it all of white flowers if you hare no pink." It was but ono of the many insults which Mabel Viner heaped on her younger sisters' governess. Ereril's deep pasrionate eyes flashed, as with quiet dignity she rose from the table and replied—- " Excuse me, Miss Viner—l did not quite understand what you mean by saying I ought to hare known about your dress. lam not your maid. I obliged you by making up the bouquet for you; since you are dissatisfied with it, you had better arrange one yourself to suit your own taste." There was a dead silence for a minute. The younger girls, who felt no love for their cold, handsome sister, nor very muoh affection for their vacillating, pa-sionate, and overbearing mother, instinctively took the part of the gentle, loving Everil, who was at onoe their governess and beloved companion. " Mamma, do I understand that the governess refuses to arrange the flowers for me P " asked Mabel, a supercilious sneer curving her well-cut mouth.

"Upon my word I think ihe does!" exclaimed Mrs Yiner. " Miss Lester, is it possible you mean to disobey Miss Viner P " " Yes," returned Everil, quietly, although her eyes flashed, and secretly clenching her pretty hands in her efforts to keep herself calm.

Every insult in the power of these two cold, vulgar-minded women had they heaped upon the head of the defenceless girl whose sole offence was that she was pretty, attractive, and a universal favourite.

" And how dare you P " cried the enraged woman. " You, a.governess, little better than an upper servant, to disobey Miss Yiner 1" "It is unfortunate that you should hare said all this before my pupils," was the quietly ecornfttl reply. " You can hardly expect them to obey aud respect any one whom their mother treats disrespectfully." " Well, mamma, I think we may leare after that last brilliant fl'ght of imagination!" put in Mabel, with a sneering little laugh. "We shall be late for dinner if we stop to listen to a governess's heroics. I will take the flowers just as they are. I wouldn't hare them altered for the world now. The Howard girls are sure to notice the contrast, and when 1 tell them the story it will afford them a good laugh. Come, mamma j" and, so saying, Mabel Yiner swept from the room. " Well, are you going to make an apology to Miss Yiner and IP" said Mrs Yiner, regardless of grammar. " I give you until to morrow morning to think over it. If you refuse to apologise, you will leave it the end of the week without yottr quarter's salary. I ha™ a right to retain it, as you will be dismissed without a character because of your impertinence. Also, t wish you to see that the children go to bed at half-past eight to-night. They were up so late last evening at Mrs Svmthers'e children's party thtt I wish them to go to bed early. Good night, my darlings I' And, after kissing her children, who passively and sliently submitted to the embrace, Mrs Yiner followed in the wake of her eldest daughter. Bveril Lester stood on the hearth-rug, her large eyes flashing, and her prettv, sensitive, red-lipped mouth quivering with suppressed emotion.

During tea Ereril tried to forgot her annoy* anee. She was too just to visit upon the children commi'ted to her charge the illconduct of their mother and sister. After tea Katie, to her intense delight, was absolved from the French veibs. and they all sat cosily around the pleasant fire whilst Everil related the promised sto ies. Bertie, who had for flowers the passionate lore so often observed in a sickly child, had gathered up the remains of the obnoxious Blossoms whi'-h had CHUsed so much strife, and sat with "hem in his delicate little hands. As Ereril concluded the "true and reliable" history of " Prince Prttitoes ami the beautiful Princess Pearlinu," Bertie climbed into her lap, laying solemnly, in his childi*h manner—"Miss Lester, that was such a lovely story, and for telling it to us I am going to put this rose in your hair;" and, suiting the action to the word, he placed the rose among the fluffy ooils of Everil's wavy, silky black hair. Humouring the child's fancy, she scried, and allowed the flower to remain there. Presently a maid appeared, spying it was lime for them to go to bed. Unwillingly they obeyed, and, saying " Good night" to their goteraen, left her alone with her thoughts. (2> U wUimri)