"Would Hampstead be near enough?" asked Nellie, hesitating.
Christina paused. "I do not know much of Hampstead, except by name, and for the donkeys; is it nice?"
"Very nice; we have an aunt living there. It is such a breezy place, and has such views."
Christina smiled, and answered, "Well, supposing we say Hampstead. I will go and look at it at any rate. But I am keeping you in the dark, Nellie. The paragraph in that paper was about a lady who had gathered some little children round her, and was making them happy, when otherwise they would have been workhouse children, and it said, 'Why did not women who had no ties'—" She stopped short for a moment at that word, and her face turned very pale.
Nellie touched her hand softly.
"Yes, dear," she said, recovering herself, "no ties—'why did not they find some little outcast children, and bring them up for the Good Shepherd, and meanwhile fill their own empty hearts with joy and happiness?' I read the piece over and over. Was I meant? Was that written for me? It occurred to me that this was work I might do; and ever since the thought has been growing upon me, and has made me so happy."
Nellie was so carried away by Christina's enthusiasm, that she had not time for a thought; but now Walter's hopes flashed upon her.
"You don't agree?" asked Christina, looking slightly disappointed. "Am I too—too—not suitable?"
"Everything that is dear and lovely," said Nellie, turning scarlet. "But, dear Christina, you may be—married perhaps."
Christina's eyes turned from Nellie's glowing face to her own hands, which lay so quietly in her lap, with one ring sparkling against her black dress.