“No, thank you,” he answered absently, looking out over her head, as he stood upon the rug in the attitude which the best men will assume in the bosoms of their families.
Kitty looked offended, and turned to the mirror for comfort; while Christie went on shovelling tea, quite unconscious what she was about till David said gravely:
“Won’t that be rather strong?”
“How stupid of me! I always forget that Kitty does not drink tea,” and Christie rectified her mistake with all speed.
Kitty laughed, and said in her pert little way:
“Getting up early don’t seem to agree with either of you this morning: I wonder what you’ve been doing?”
“Your work. Suppose you bring in the kettle: Christie has hurt her hand.”
David spoke quietly; but Kitty looked as much surprised as if he had boxed her ears, for he had never used that tone to her before. She meekly obeyed; and David added with a smile to Christie:
“Mother is coming down, and you’ll have to get more color into your checks if you mean to hide your accident from her.”
“That is easily done;” and Christie rubbed her pale cheeks till they rivalled Kitty’s in their bloom.