“I have brought Miss Devon to sit with her a little while. Doctor advises it, and I fancy the experiment may succeed if we can only amuse the dear child, and make her forget herself and her troubles.”
“As you please, ma’am,” said the old woman, looking with little favor at the new-comer, for the good soul was jealous of any interference between herself and the child she had tended for years.
“I won’t disturb her, but you shall take Miss Devon in and tell Helen mamma sends her love, and hopes she will make an effort for all our sakes.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Go, my dear, and do your best.” With these words Mrs. Carrol hastily left the room, and Christie followed Nurse.
A quick glance showed her that she was in the daintily furnished boudoir of a rich man’s daughter, but before she could take a second look her eyes were arrested by the occupant of this pretty place, and she forgot all else. On a low luxurious couch lay a girl, so beautiful and pale and still, that for an instant Christie thought her dead or sleeping. She was neither, for at the sound of a voice the great eyes opened wide, darkening and dilating with a strange expression as they fell on the unfamiliar face.
“Nurse, who is that? I told you I would see no one. I’m too ill to be so worried,” she said, in an imperious tone.
HELEN CARROL