She had known such moods before, but they had never lasted long, andwere not so intense as this; therefore, she was sure some blessedpower had come to uphold and cheer her. She sang like a lark as sheswept and dusted; thought high and happy thoughts among the pots andkettles, and, when she sat sewing, smiled unconsciously as if somedeep satisfaction made sunshine from within. Heart and soul seemedto wake up and rejoice as naturally and beautifully as flowers inthe spring. A soft brightness shone in her eyes, a fuller tonesounded in her voice, and her face grew young and blooming with thehappiness that transfigures all it touches.

 

　　"Christie 's growing handsome," David would say to his mother, as ifshe was a flower in which he took pride.

 

　　"Thee is a good gardener, Davy," the old lady would reply, and whenhe was busy would watch him with a tender sort of anxiety, as if todiscover a like change in him.

 

　　But no alteration appeared, except more cheerfulness and lesssilence; for now there was no need to hide his real self, and allthe social virtues in him came out delightfully after their longsolitude.

 

　　In her present uplifted state, Christie could no more help regardingDavid as a martyr and admiring him for it, than she could helpmixing sentiment with her sympathy. By the light of the lateconfessions, his life and character looked very different to hernow. His apparent contentment was resignation; his cheerfulness, amanly contempt for complaint; his reserve, the modest reticence ofone who, having done a hard duty well, desires no praise for it.

 

　　Like all enthusiastic persons, Christie had a hearty admiration forself-sacrifice and self-control; and, while she learned to seeDavid's virtues, she also exaggerated them, and could not do enoughto show the daily increasing esteem and respect she felt for him,and to atone for the injustice she once did him.

 

　　She grubbed in the garden and green-house, and learned hardbotanical names that she might be able to talk intelligently uponsubjects that interested her comrade. Then, as autumn endedout-of-door work, she tried to make home more comfortable andattractive than ever.

 

　　David's room was her especial care; for now to her there wassomething pathetic in the place and its poor furnishing. He hadfought many a silent battle there; won many a secret victory; andtried to cheer his solitude with the best thoughts the minds of thebravest, wisest men could give him.

 

　　She did not smile at the dilapidated idols now, but touched themtenderly, and let no dust obscure their well-beloved faces. She setthe books in order daily, taking many a sip of refreshment from themby the way, and respectfully regarded those in unknown tongues, fullof admiration for David's learning. She covered the irruptive sofaneatly; saw that the little vase was always clear and freshlyfilled; cared for the nursery in the gable-window; and preserved anexquisite neatness everywhere, which delighted the soul of theroom's order-loving occupant.

 

　　She also--alas, for romance!--cooked the dishes David loved, andliked to see him enjoy them with the appetite which once had shockedher so. She watched over his buttons with a vigilance that wouldhave softened the heart of the crustiest bachelor: she even gaveherself the complexion of a lemon by wearing blue, because Davidliked the pretty contrast with his mother's drabs.

 

　　After recording that last fact, it is unnecessary to explain whatwas the matter with Christie. She honestly thought she had gotreligion; but it was piety's twin-sister, who produced thiswonderful revival in her soul; and though she began in all goodfaith she presently discovered that she was"Not the first maidenWho came but for friendship,And took away love."After the birthnight confessions, David found it easier to go onwith the humdrum life he had chosen from a sense of duty; for now hefelt as if he had not only a fellow-worker, but a comrade and friendwho understood, sympathized with, and encouraged him by an interestand good-will inexpressibly comfortable and inspiring. Nothingdisturbed the charm of the new league in those early days; forChristie was thoroughly simple and sincere, and did her womanly workwith no thought of reward or love or admiration.

 

　　David saw this, and felt it more attractive than any gift of beautyor fascination of manner would have been. He had no desire to be alover, having forbidden himself that hope; but he found it so easyand pleasant to be a friend that he reproached himself for nottrying it before; and explained his neglect by the fact thatChristie was not an ordinary woman, since none of all the many hehad known and helped, had ever been any thing to him but objects ofpity and protection.

 

　　Mrs. Sterling saw these changes with her wise, motherly eyes, butsaid nothing; for she influenced others by the silent power ofcharacter. Speaking little, and unusually gifted with the meditativehabits of age, she seemed to live in a more peaceful world thanthis. As George MacDonald somewhere says, "Her soul seemed to sitapart in a sunny little room, safe from dust and noise, serenelyregarding passers-by through the clear muslin curtains of herwindow."Yet, she was neither cold nor careless, stern nor selfish, but readyto share all the joys and sorrows of those about her; and whenadvice was asked she gave it gladly. Christie had won her heart longago, and now was as devoted as a daughter to her; lightening hercares so skilfully that many of them slipped naturally on to theyoung shoulders, and left the old lady much time for rest, or thelighter tasks fitted for feeble hands. Christie often called her"Mother," and felt herself rewarded for the hardest, humblest jobshe ever did when the sweet old voice said gratefully, "I thankthee, daughter."Things were in this prosperous, not to say paradisiacal, state, whenone member of the family began to make discoveries of an alarmingnature. The first was that the Sunday pilgrimages to church wereseasons of great refreshment to soul and body when David went also,and utter failures if he did not. Next, that the restless ambitionsof all sorts were quite gone; for now Christie's mission seemed tobe sitting in a quiet corner and making shirts in the most exquisitemanner, while thinking about--well, say botany, or any kindredsubject. Thirdly, that home was woman's sphere after all, and theperfect roasting of beef, brewing of tea, and concocting ofdelectable puddings, an end worth living for if masculinecommendation rewarded the labor.

 

　　Fourthly, and worst of all, she discovered that she was notsatisfied with half confidences, and quite pined to know all about"David's trouble." The little needle-book with the faded "Letty" onit haunted her; and when, after a pleasant evening below, she heardhim pace his room for hours, or play melancholy airs upon the flute,she was jealous of that unknown woman who had such power to disturbhis peace, and felt a strong desire to smash the musical confidanteinto whose responsive breast he poured his woe.

 

　　At this point Christie paused; and, after evading any explanation ofthese phenomena in the most skilful manner for a time, suddenlyfaced the fact, saying to herself with great candor and decision:

 

　　"I know what all this means: I'm beginning to like David more thanis good for me. I see this clearly, and won't dodge any longer, butput a stop to it at once. Of course I can if I choose, and now isthe time to do it; for I understand myself perfectly, and if I reacha certain point it is all over with me. That point I will not reach:

 

　　David's heart is in that Letty's grave, and he only cares for me asa friend. I promised to be one to him, and I'll keep my word like anhonest woman. It may not be easy; but all the sacrifices shall notbe his, and I won't be a fool."With praiseworthy resolution Christie set about the reformationwithout delay; not an easy task and one that taxed all her wit andwisdom to execute without betraying the motive for it. She decidedthat Mrs. Sterling must not be left alone on Sunday, so the youngpeople took turns to go to church, and such dismal trips Christiehad never known; for all her Sundays were bad weather, and Mr. Powerseemed to hit on unusually uninteresting texts.

 

　　She talked while she sewed instead of indulging in dangerousthoughts, and Mrs. Sterling was surprised and entertained by thisnew loquacity. In the evening she read and studied with a diligencethat amazed and rather disgusted David; since she kept all herlively chat for his mother, and pored over her books when he wantedher for other things.

 

　　"I'm trying to brighten up my wits," she said, and went on trying tostifle her affections.

 

　　But though "the absurdity," as she called the new revelation, wasstopped externally, it continued with redoubled vigor internally.

 

　　Each night she said, "this must be conquered," yet each morning itrose fair and strong to make the light and beauty of her day, andconquer her again. She did her best and bravest, but was forced atlast to own that she could not "put a stop to it," because she hadalready reached the point where "it was all over with her."Just at this critical moment an event occurred which completedChristie's defeat, and made her feel that her only safety lay inflight.

 

　　One evening she sat studying ferns, and heroically saying over andover, "Andiantum, Aspidium, and Asplenium, Trichomanes," whilelonging to go and talk delightfully to David, who sat musing by thefire.

 

　　"I can't go on so much longer," she thought despairingly.

 

　　"Polypodium aureum, a native of Florida," is all very interesting inits place; but it doesn't help me to gain self-control a bit, and Ishall disgrace myself if something doesn't happen very soon."Something did happen almost instantly; for as she shut the coversharply on the poor Polypods, a knock was heard, and before Davidcould answer it the door flew open and a girl ran in. Straight tohim she went, and clinging to his arm said excitedly: "Oh, do takecare of me: I 've run away again!""Why, Kitty, what's the matter now?" asked David, putting back herhood, and looking down at her with the paternal expression Christiehad not seen for a long time, and missed very much.

 

　　"Father found me, and took me home, and wanted me to marry adreadful man, and I wouldn't, so I ran away to you. He didn't know Icame here before, and I'm safe if you'll let me stay," cried Kitty,still clinging and imploring.

 

　　"Of course I will, and glad to see you back again," answered David,adding pitifully, as he put her in his easy-chair, took her cloakand hood off and stood stroking her curly hair: "Poor little girl!

 

　　it is hard to have to run away so much: isn't it?""Not if I come here; it's so pleasant I'd like to stay all my life,"and Kitty took a long breath, as if her troubles were over now.

 

　　"Who's that?" she asked suddenly, as her eye fell on Christie, whosat watching her with interest:

 

　　"That is our good friend Miss Devon. She came to take your place,and we got so fond of her we could not let her go," answered Davidwith a gesture of introduction, quite unconscious that his positionjust then was about as safe and pleasant as that of a man between alighted candle and an open powder barrel.

 

　　The two young women nodded to each other, took a swift survey, andmade up their minds before David had poked the fire. Christie saw apretty face with rosy cheeks, blue eyes, and brown rings of hairlying on the smooth, low forehead; a young face, but not childlike,for it was conscious of its own prettiness, and betrayed the fact bylittle airs and graces that reminded one of a coquettish kitten.

 

　　Short and slender, she looked more youthful than she was; while agay dress, with gilt ear-rings, locket at the throat, and a cherryribbon in her hair made her a bright little figure in that plainroom.

 

　　Christie suddenly felt as if ten years had been added to her age, asshe eyed the new-comer, who leaned back in the great chair talkingto David, who stood on the rug, evidently finding it pleasanter tolook at the vivacious face before him than at the fire.

 

　　"Just the pretty, lively sort of girl sensible men often marry, andthen discover how silly they are," thought Christie, taking up herwork and assuming an indifferent air.

 

　　"She's a lady and nice looking, but I know I shan't like her," wasKitty's decision, as she turned away and devoted herself to David,hoping he would perceive how much she had improved and admire heraccordingly.

 

　　"So you don't want to marry this Miles because he is not handsome.

 

　　You'd better think again before you make up your mind. He isrespectable, well off, and fond of you, it seems. Why not try it,Kitty? You need some one to take care of you sadly," David said,when her story had been told.

 

　　"If father plagues me much I may take the man; but I'd rather havethe other one if he wasn't poor," answered Kitty with a side-longglance of the blue eyes, and a conscious smile on the red lips.

 

　　"Oh, there's another lover, is there?""Lots of 'em."David laughed and looked at Christie as if inviting her to be amusedwith the freaks and prattle of a child. But Christie sewed awaywithout a sign of interest.

 

　　"That won't do, Kitty: you are too young for much of such nonsense.

 

　　I shall keep you here a while, and see if we can't settle mattersboth wisely and pleasantly," he said, shaking his head as sagely asa grandfather.

 

　　"I'm sure I wish you would: I love to stay here, you are always sogood to me. I'm in no hurry to be married; and you won't make me:

 

　　will you?"Kitty rose as she spoke, and stood before him with a beseechinglittle gesture, and a confiding air quite captivating to behold.

 

　　Christie was suddenly seized with a strong desire to shake the girland call her an "artful little hussy," but crushed thisunaccountable impulse, and hemmed a pocket-handkerchief withreckless rapidity, while she stole covert glances at the tableau bythe fire.

 

　　David put his finger under Kitty's round chin, and lifting her facelooked into it, trying to discover if she really cared for thissuitor who seemed so providentially provided for her. Kitty smiledand blushed, and dimpled under that grave look so prettily that itsoon changed, and David let her go, saying indulgently:

 

　　"You shall not be troubled, for you are only a child after all. Letthe lovers go, and stay and play with me, for I've been ratherlonely lately.""That's a reproach for me," thought Christie, longing to cry out:

 

　　"No, no; send the girl away and let me be all in all to you." Butshe only turned up the lamp and pretended to be looking for a spool,while her heart ached and her eyes were too dim for seeing.

 

　　"I'm too old to play, but I'll stay and tease you as I used to, ifMiles don't come and carry me off as he said he would," answeredKitty, with a toss of the head which showed she was not so childlikeas David fancied. But the next minute she was sitting on a stool athis feet petting the cat, while she told her adventures with girlishvolubility.

 

　　Christie could not bear to sit and look on any longer, so she leftthe room, saying she would see if Mrs. Sterling wanted any thing,for the old lady kept her room with a touch of rheumatism. As sheshut the door, Christie heard Kitty say softly:

 

　　"Now we'll be comfortable as we used to be: won't we?"What David answered Christie did not stay to hear, but went into thekitchen, and had her first pang of jealousy out alone, while shebeat up the buckwheats for breakfast with an energy that made themmiracles of lightness on the morrow.

 

　　When she told Mrs. Sterling of the new arrival, the placid littlelady gave a cluck of regret and said with unusual emphasis:

 

　　"I'm sorry for it.""Why?" asked Christie, feeling as if she could embrace the speakerfor the words.

 

　　"She is a giddy little thing, and much care to whoever befriendsher." Mrs. Sterling would say no more, but, as Christie bade hergood-night, she held her hand, saying with a kiss:

 

　　"No one will take thy place with me, my daughter."For a week Christie suffered constant pin-pricks of jealousy,despising herself all the time, and trying to be friendly with thedisturber of her peace. As if prompted by an evil spirit, Kittyunconsciously tried and tormented her from morning to night, and noone saw or guessed it unless Mrs. Sterling's motherly heart divinedthe truth. David seemed to enjoy the girl's lively chat, her openlyexpressed affection, and the fresh young face that always brightenedwhen he came.

 

　　Presently, however, Christie saw a change in him, and suspected thathe had discovered that Kitty was a child no longer, but a young girlwith her head full of love and lovers. The blue eyes grew shy, thepretty face grew eloquent with blushes now and then, as he looked atit, and the lively tongue faltered sometimes in speaking to him. Athousand little coquetries were played off for his benefit, andfrequent appeals for advice in her heart affairs kept tendersubjects uppermost in their conversations.

 

　　At first all this seemed to amuse David as much as if Kitty were asmall child playing at sweethearts; but soon his manner changed,growing respectful, and a little cool when Kitty was most confiding.

 

　　He no longer laughed about Miles, stopped calling her "little girl,"and dropped his paternal ways as he had done with Christie. By manyindescribable but significant signs he showed that he consideredKitty a woman now and treated her as such, being all the morescrupulous in the respect he paid her, because she was sounprotected, and so wanting in the natural dignity and refinementwhich are a woman's best protection.

 

　　Christie admired him for this, but saw in it the beginning of atenderer feeling than pity, and felt each day that she was one toomany now.

 

　　Kitty was puzzled and piqued by these changes, and being a bornflirt tried all her powers on David, veiled under guilelessgirlishness. She was very pretty, very charming,............