f 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.

"It is so easy to value the wrong things most. They often look so
attractive, and the best things lie so deeply hidden from us. And yet,
to find them out and treasure them, and be true to them, makes the
difference between a worthy and