"I love them," Christina said, for the third time, "and I am never tired of being with them, and taking care of them. But there are such lots of other girls like me, with very few qualifications, and so, though I answer ever so many advertisements, I can't get a place."
"Do you mind waiting here just a moment?" Lady Cicely asked abruptly. "I—I should like you to see Baba before you go; perhaps we might find—we might think——" and with this vague sentence, the small lady went out of the room, leaving Christina puzzled and wondering.
Lady Cicely meanwhile hurried downstairs to the library, where a man sat looking over a mass of legal papers.
"Rupert," she exclaimed impetuously, "it is the girl who brought Baba back, and my brain is teeming with plans for helping her."
"Is she a young person?"
"No, no—a lady. Very shabby, very tired-looking, very poor, I should guess; but unmistakably a lady. And—I'm so sorry for her, Rupert; she is just a slip of a girl, who looks as if she wanted mothering."
"Now, Cicely, do you wish to embark on the mother's rôle? As one of your trustees, let me warn you I shan't allow any quixotism."
"Leave those tiresome old papers for five minutes, and come and see this girl. I don't want to be quixotic, and I am ready to abide by your judgment, but come and look at Miss Moore."
"The tiresome old papers are fairly important deeds connected with your estate, and the future inheritance of your daughter, Miss Veronica Joan Redesdale," her cousin answered with a laugh; "but I suppose your ladyship's whims must take precedence of your property. Where is Miss Moore?"
"In my boudoir, and very shy. I am sure she was afraid at first that I meant to offer her money, there was a sort of proud shrinking in her eyes—and she has very pretty eyes, too. Of course, my idea had been to offer her money, because I imagined she would be of the shop-girl type, but I should as soon think of offering you money, as of suggesting giving it to Miss Moore."