Part 25 (1/2)

”They ran to the house as fast as they could, and told their father.

When their father came out he said in a stern tone. 'Where is that strange figure that you saw, Rosalie?'

”Rosalie looked all around, and then said: 'There, father; he is up in that tree. I see his red blanket.'

”'That is an Indian, Rosalie, coming here to camp. I will get rid of him. Go into the house, and do your lessons.'

”So Rosalie went into the house and did her lessons. When her father came in she asked, 'How did you get rid of him, father?'

”Then her father answered: 'I did not get rid of him, Rosalie. He was John, the coachman, coming home from the village with some red blankets.

Neither was it an Indian you saw in the tree, but only a red heron, and remember, I do not want you ever again to tell me a thing until you are quite sure it is true. Now, run off and play.'--THE END.”

”A very nice little story,” said Miss Warren, smiling approvingly, as Winifred paused; ”I shall certainly use it in my book.”

”I wanted her to make it longer,” observed Lulu regretfully, ”but she said she couldn't possibly think of another word to say.”

[Note.--The above stories were written word for word by two little girls eight and ten years of age.]

”It has a good moral at any rate,” laughed Lord Carresford, ”and that is more than can be said for every story. Are you going in, Miss Warren?”

”I have a little writing to do this morning,” the blind lady explained, rising, and folding up her knitting as she spoke, ”and Mrs. Randall is coming in half an hour for my music lesson. Are you going to the beach, Lulu?”

”No; mamma thinks it too hot on the beach to-day, and Mrs. Hamilton doesn't want Winifred to go either. We've asked Betty and Jack over here, and mamma says we may have lemonade and cookies by and by.”

”Lulu,” said Lord Carresford, as the screen door closed behind Miss Warren, ”who is Mrs. Randall?”

”Why, don't you know? She's Betty and Jack's mother, and she gives Aunt Daisy music lessons. She's a splendid music teacher, every one says so.”

”I did not know their name was Randall,” said Lord Carresford, looking interested, though a little troubled as well. ”They are English, are they not?”

”Mrs. Randall is, but Betty and Jack were born in this country. Their father died when Jack was only two, and they were very poor. Mrs.

Randall doesn't like to have them talk about it; she's a very proud lady.”

At that moment Winifred announced that the Randalls were approaching, and the two little girls ran off across the lawn to meet their friends.

”Jack,” said Lord Carresford, sitting down beside the little boy, when he had a.s.sisted in placing him comfortably in the big steamer chair, ”did you say anything to your mother about what I told you yesterday afternoon?”

Jack's eyes fell, and the color rose in his cheeks.

”N--no, sir,” he faltered; ”I told Betty, and we decided it would be better not to say anything to mother about it. You see, she'd be so very sorry not to be able to let me have the lessons.”

”And have you no relations who could afford to help you--no uncles or aunts, for instance?”

Jack shook his head.

”We haven't any relations at all,” he said mournfully, ”only an uncle in England, and we don't know him.”

”Don't know him, eh; but your mother knows him, doesn't she?”