“Have you been lonely here?” she asked, in a few minutes.
“A little. It is very quiet,” said Christie, hesitatingly. “But I like it.”
“Is Claude fond of you?” asked Gertrude, gravely.
Christie smiled a little.
“He does not object to me. I dare say he will be fond of me in time. I am sure he will be very glad to see you and his brother. It is very quiet for him to be left alone with me.”
“But the doctor wishes him to be quiet,” said Gertrude; “and his mother won’t have him vexed on any account. I have seen her quite tremble when his brother has come near him; and after all it is no wonder.”
“Clement is so strong,” said Christie; “but he will learn to be gentle with his brother in time. How very much alike they used to be! We used to see them driving together. We didn’t know their names, but we always called them the two pretty boys.”
“Yes, they were very much alike; and it will grieve Clement, when he is older, to know— Did you never hear about it? They were playing together, and Claude fell. The doctor thinks that fall was the cause of his illness. His mother can’t bear to think so, it is so sad; and besides, it seems to make his illness more hopeless. I am afraid he will never be strong and well again.”
“Oh, don’t say so,” said Christie, sadly, quite shocked at what she heard. “Please God, he will be well again. He is only a child; and children outlive so much. For two or three years no one thought I should live to grow up. But I am quite well now.”
“You are not a giant yet, nor very strong either. At least you don’t look so,” said Gertrude.