Just now he was lying with closed eyes listening to the song of the waves, occasionally catching the low talk of the two sisters.
"Ada gets a handsome girl, doesn't she?" said Nellie.
"Yes; but she thinks nothing about it, but just goes on her sensible way as nicely as possible."
"I have much to thank her for since dear mamma's death," responded Nellie. "She has been a dear sister to me."
"I am sure she has. There was one time that I was rather afraid, but your love and patience tided over the difficulty."
"It was very hard for her to have to yield to me, if there was a difference of opinion; and yet sometimes you know I was forced to carry out what I thought right. It was about the children generally that we had trouble; but, after all, she acted so beautifully."
"Dear Ada! And now she does so much credit to your love and care."
"Not mine; I do not feel I can take any credit. I was always helped over every difficulty. At first I used to think I could never succeed in managing it all; and then I learnt gradually that every time I got perplexed, I had nothing to do but to ask for wisdom. Sometimes I felt as if the wisdom had hardly been given, as if things had not quite gone right after all; but I learned gradually to believe in the answer to my prayer being sent, and the more I trusted, the more I found I might trust."
Nellie smiled brightly when she got to the end of this long sentence, and Christina looked with soft appreciating glance back at her.
At this moment, a sound of merry voices came nearer and nearer. The gate creaked on its hinges, and a number of young people came quickly up the path, and entered the sitting-room.