e seldom
ventured to assert it plainly, that he was lineally descended from the
king. Nor did Andrew make further remark of any sort with regard to the
fate of Annie or the duty of Bruce, for he saw that his companion
wanted no advice--only some talk, and possibly some sympathy with his
perplexity as to what the world might think of him. But with this
perplexity Andrew could accord him very little sympathy indeed; for he
could not take much interest in the buttressing of a reputation which
he knew to be already quite undermined by widely-reported acts of petty
meanness and selfishness. Nor was this fact much to be wondered at, if
his principles were really those which he had so openly advocated.
Indeed, Andrew knew well that it would be a bad day for poor Annie when
she came under Bruce's roof, and therefore sincerely hoped that Auntie
Meg might find some way of managing so as to avoid parting with the
child; for he knew, too, that, though her aunt was fierce and hard, she
had yet a warm spot somewhere about her heart.

Margaret Anderson had known perfectly well for some time that she and
Annie must part before long. The lease of the farm would expire at the
close of the autumn of next year; and as it had been rather a losing
affair for some time, she had no inclination to request a renewal. When
her brother's debts should be paid, there would not remain, even after
the sale of the stock, more than a hundred and fifty pounds. For
herself, she believed she must go into service--which would hurt her
pride more than it would alter her position, for her hands had done far
more of the necessary labour than those of the maid who assisted her.
Indeed, in her proudest mood, she would have welcomed death rather than
idleness. What was to become of Annie she did not yet see.

Meantime there remained for the child just a year more of the native
farm, with all the varieties of life which had been so dear to her.
Auntie Meg did not spare to put her in mind of the coming change; but
it seemed to Annie so long in coming that it never would come. The
impression was worn off by the daily attempt to deepen it, she gave
herself up to the childish pleasures within her reach, without thinking
of their approaching loss.

CHAPTER V.

And why should Annie think of the future? The future was not: the
present was--and full of delights. If she did not receive much
tenderness from auntie, at least she was not afraid of her. The
pu