Then Walter Arundel had come upon the scene, and had fixed all his life's hopes on winning her.

Christina had hesitated; at first she had felt it to be impossible to yield to his wishes; for there was a grave far away where a great part of her heart lay buried. But after a time, thinking more of Walter than of herself, she had consented, and had settled down at Hampstead with her orphan children quietly content, full more of the present, perhaps, than of the future.

Her house, with its large garden, pleasant rooms, and glorious sunshine, was a home in which any one far less cheerfully constituted might have been happy; and Christina was happy. She loved her aunt, who lived with her; she loved her little orphan children; and the days passed away in her care for both.

There was one little child, "the baby," who had grown very dear to Christina; for her story had been a sad one, and she had been sent to Hampstead under peculiar circumstances. She was at this time a toddling little mite of eighteen months old, with fair hair and white cheeks, in which a tender little colour was beginning to be visible, which was watched by all the inmates of Sunnyside with great interest.

Whether Margaret Fenton, the nurse, or Margaret's own little daughter, Maggie, or Christina herself, loved baby Alice best, was a problem that little Maggie often tried to solve, and she generally ended it satisfactorily by saying in an assured little tone to her mother, "At any rate, God loves her best of all!"

There was, however, no doubt as to which of her devoted admirers baby loved best. Dearly as she liked nurse Margaret, happily as she played with Maggie, her smile of sweetest welcome was reserved for Christina, and it was to her she would go in preference to anyone else.

It was generally understood in the household that, when the young mistress was married, little Alice Forbes was not to be parted from her.

One morning early in January, the nursery door opened, after a slight tap, and Ada Arundel, dressed in hat and jacket, walked into the room.

"Miss Ada, you quite startled me!" said Margaret, looking up pleasantly in the bright young face. "It seems a long time since you were here."

"Yes, I've been dutiful at home, and so I couldn't come. Where's Miss Arbuthnot?"