"Yes; just sitting down to mend her stockings," said Mrs. Arundel, smiling slightly.
They found Ada seated in the bay window, looking rather sulky. She was watching Arthur, who, across in the orchard, was having a fine swing.
"How early you are!" she said, rather ungraciously. "I thought Arthur and I were to come and meet you?"
"So we intended; but we have something so interesting to tell you, that we came up instead," said Nellie.
Mrs. Arundel drew out her work, and Nellie fetched hers, and then they all sat down comfortably—except that Ada did not look comfortable, and turned her back upon them.
"Now, Christina," said Nellie, by way of prelude.
Christina coloured. "It seems very formidable to tell you straight out like this; and I am afraid too, that what Nellie and I have been looking at with rose-coloured spectacles may seem to you absurd and impossible," she faltered.
"Let me hear what it is," said Mrs. Arundel.
Still Christina hesitated. At last she said, looking down and speaking softly, "You know that I am alone in the world, and dreadfully want something to do. Nellie lent me a paper the other day, in which it spoke of women who are circumstanced as I am; and it advised them to fill their homes and their empty hearts with little sad and forlorn children; and then I felt as if that paragraph had been written specially to suit me. It seemed to give me hope and joy at once; to propose to me a work which I feel myself suited for, something I can do for my God."
"It would be very nice indeed; but have you thought over all the difficulties it involves?" asked Mrs. Arundel.