Ada's eyes turned round the room, and a thought flashed across her; but she put it away hastily and almost angrily. "Another time," she said to herself; "not now on any account."
Just at this moment, the door was opened to admit the entrance of an invalid boy, who lay at full length on a light frame, so arranged that it could be carried up and down stairs easily, and placed upon an ordinary sofa without disturbing him.
Mrs. Arundel sometimes wondered what they would do when the now slender form should be too heavy to be carried, but she checked the thought; for, after all, did it not belong to the cares of to-morrow? And are we not told over and over that these are not to harass us?
Carrying one end of the couch was Simmons, the housemaid, and the other, little Tom's brother Arthur, a well-grown boy of fifteen. Mrs. Arundel rose, and made way for them to place him on the sofa, and then, when he was comfortable, the little girls greeted him, while Nellie sat down by him and took his hand.
"I have missed you so, Nellie," he said, looking up in her face.
"I have brought something for you off the Christmas tree," answered Nellie.
"Have you really? How kind of you."
"It is from Christina. It was her tree, you know."
"What is it?" asked Tom, looking curiously at Nellie's hand, which was disappearing into her pocket.
"It is a very wonderful knife," answered she, producing it; and while his thin little fingers explored its mysteries, all the others drew near to watch, Arthur holding the lamp above Netta's head that they might all see as well as possible.