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Thistle and Rose A Story for Girls

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The Picture.

A countenance in which did meetSweet records, promises as sweet. Wordsworth.

“And so, my dear Anna, you really leave London to-morrow!”

“By the ten o’clock train,” added an eager voice, “and I shan’t get to Dornton until nearly five. Father will go with me to Paddington, and then I shall be alone all the way. My very first journey by myself—and such a long one!”

“You don’t seem to mind the idea,” said the governess, with a glance at her pupil’s bright, smiling face. “You don’t mind leaving all the people and things you have been used to all your life?”

Anna tried to look grave. “I see so little of father, you know,” she said, “and I’m sure I shall like the country better than London. I shall miss you, of course, dear Miss Milverton,” she added quickly, bending forward to kiss her governess.

Miss Milverton gave a little shake of the head, as she returned the kiss; perhaps she did not believe in being very much missed.

“You are going to new scenes and new people,” she said, “and at your age, Anna, it is easier to forget than to remember. I should like to think, though, that some of our talks and lessons during the last seven years might stay in your mind.”

She spoke wistfully, and her face looked rather sad. As she saw it, Anna felt ungrateful to be so glad to go away, and was ready to promise anything. “Oh, of course they will,” she exclaimed. “Indeed, I will never forget what you have told me. I couldn’t.”

“You have lived so very quietly hitherto,” continued Miss Milverton, “that it will be a new thing for you to be thrown with other people. They will be nearly all strangers to you at Waverley, I think?”

“There will be Aunt Sarah and Uncle John at the Rectory,” said Anna. “Aunt Sarah, of course, I know; but I’ve never seen Uncle John. He’s father’s brother, you know. Then there’s Dornton; that’s just a little town near. I don’t know any one there, but I suppose Aunt Sarah does. Waverley’s quite in the country, with a lovely garden—oh, I do so long to see it!”

“You will make friends, too, of your own age, I daresay,” said Miss Milverton.

“Oh, I hope so,” said Anna earnestly. “It has been so dull here sometimes! After you go away in the afternoon there’s nothing to do, and when father dines out there’s no one to talk to all the evening. You can’t think how tired I get of reading.”

“Well, it will be more cheerful and amusing for you at Waverley, no doubt,” said Miss Milverton, “and I hope you will be very happy there; but what I want to say to you is this: Try, whether you are at Waverley or wherever you are, to value the best things in yourself and others.”

Anna’s bright eyes were gazing over the blind into the street, where a man with a basket of flowers on his head was crying, “All a-blowing and a-growing.” In the country she would be able to pick flowers instead of buying them. She smiled at the thought, and said absently, “Yes, Miss Milverton.” Miss Milverton’s voice, which always had a regretful sound in it, went steadily on, while Anna’s bright fancies danced about gaily....