"Is he like Mr. Redesdale?" Christina asked sympathetically.
"No, not in the least—it is not that. At least, his eyes are brown, and my husband had brown eyes, but it is not exactly a likeness that can be defined feature for feature. It is something subtly indefinable, but when I see Dr. Fergusson, and when he talks to me, it makes me think of John. It makes me almost feel as if John were here again."
*****
"You are to come down to dinner to-night, and you are to wear the new frock," Lady Cicely's tones were very decided, her blue eyes shone, her face was dimpling with smiles.
"Oh! but—indeed—I don't think I ought; how can I? It—it wouldn't be suitable, would it, for Baba's nurse to dine downstairs?"
"Will you let Baba's mother decide what is best for the nurse to do?" Cicely answered, laughing, and patting Christina on the shoulder; "you are just to do what I tell you, and I tell you you must come down to dinner to-night, and wear the new frock."
"I don't know how to thank you for that," Christina said, with girlish eagerness. "I haven't ever had a frock like it in all my life. You see, when my father and mother were alive, we never went to parties, so I didn't have evening gowns. And since I have been working for myself, of course I haven't needed any, but this one you have given me is much, much too lovely."
"Perhaps I am the best judge of that, too! I want you to look suitably dressed when you come downstairs, and you must look your very best to-night, to disarm Cousin Arthur."
"I am afraid already he doesn't approve of me," Christina said ruefully; "he looked at me with such severe eyes after church this morning, and began at once to ask me about my theories of education. And—I haven't got any." A ripple of laughter broke from her. "I had to say so, and he seemed so shocked."
"But he is very easily shocked; take heart of grace and remember that. And dear old Miss Doubleday thinks you are managing Baba splendidly. She is a competent judge because she had the managing of me!"