Miss Peacock looked very attentively at her young pupil; then she stretched out her hand and rang the bell. A servant appeared.
"Bring tea, Agnes—tea for two—and those special cakes that I like."
The maid withdrew, and returned in a few minutes to lay on the little table a lovely silver tea-equipage and the most charming, dainty china Christian had ever seen. By and by the tea itself appeared. Miss Peacock poured out a cup for her pupil and another for herself. Christian ate the cakes and drank the hot, fragrant tea, and, it must be owned, felt comforted.
"You like coming to tea with me, do you not dear?"
"Oh, very, very much!"
"I think you and I could be good friends, Christian."
"If I knew I was worthy we could be good friends—at least I could love you," said Christian.
Her eyes brightened perceptibly and the color deepened in her cheeks.
"Well, now, my dear," said Miss Peacock, "I want you and I to be friends. There are some girls here who seem to be specially in touch with me. There are others, again, most excellent girls—splendid, brave, devoted to their work and their duties—with whom I have nothing in common. That is always the way in life: certain characters appeal to us; others, again, fail to do so. You and I are beyond doubt in touch."