As she galloped down the coast highway, how she wished that she might ride up into the mountains and never return.
Then she thought of Miss Dahlia. Just for a fleeting moment she had caught that dear little lady’s glance when Miss Barrington was dismissing her, and Nan was almost sure that Miss Dahlia’s sweet grey eyes had twinkled.
“I will only have to stay until the gold blossoms fade,” the girl thought a little later, as she wandered about the garden paths peering into the curly yellow crysanthemums, wondering how much longer they would last. With a sigh, Nan went indoors and up to her room.
Undressing, she placed the gown that she so loved in a bureau drawer, and then, to please Miss Dahlia she put on the simple blue cashmere and sat with folded hands waiting to hear in what manner she was to be punished.
CHAPTER VIII.
NAN’S PUNISHMENT.
Half an hour later Nan heard the automobile returning and she sighed resignedly. The gypsy girl’s heart was rebellious, yet she would bear with it a little longer for Miss Dahlia’s sake.
The door was opening, but Nan, with folded hands still gazed out of the window. A severe voice spoke:
“Anne, when I enter the room, I wish you to rise.”
“Yes, lady,” was the listless reply as the girl arose.
“And one thing more. I do not wish you to call me ‘lady’ in that gypsy fashion. If you wish to say Lady Ursula, you may do so. My English ancestry entitles me to that name.”