Christina kissed her, and did all she could to soothe her, but knew not what to say.
"You are quite worn-out," she said tenderly, "and no wonder, with so much to do and think about."
Nellie was worn-out; and when Christina wrapped her up on the sofa, and sat down by her in the firelight, she felt a strange feeling of rest and comfort stealing over her. The past months had been full of sorrow and self-command, and now that she felt it was all over, not even Walter's coming could rouse her out of a kind of blank restfulness, which was partly sorrow and partly relief.
"I shall be better to-morrow," she whispered.
"I am going down to see after the others," said Christina, "and you shall go to sleep."
"Oh, no!"
"I shall expect you to, and I will bring you up a cup of tea when I have poured out for the rest."
She left her, and went down.
"Nellie looks very tired and poorly," she observed to Ada, when she rejoined them.
"She is," said Ada. "She told me she had a headache. Wilmot Elliot was there this, morning, and Walter's letter upset her too."