Christie Redfern's Troubles

by Margaret M. Robertson

“And what answer did you make?” asked Christie, after a little hesitation.

“I turned and walked out of the room; and I did not see him again. I chose to be out of the way when he came to say good-bye. I dare say that is one reason why I don’t like the thought of his coming just now. I feel a little awkward, you know. I owe him one good turn, however. If it had not been for him, I think father would have listened to Aunt Barbara and sent me to school. I ought to thank him for that.”

“And didn’t you want to go to school?” asked Christie, in some surprise.

“No, indeed! I never was at school, you know. We had a governess and teachers at home. I am to have private teachers for some things here, when the summer is over, unless I should be sent to school, after all.”

When the gentleman made his appearance among them the next day, he did not look like the formidable person Christie imagined him to be. They were sitting on the lawn, in the shadow of the locust-tree, when he arrived; and before he went into the house he came and shook hands with Miss Gertrude and the little boys. Christie thought he must have quite forgotten his falling-out with the young lady, he met her so pleasantly and frankly. The embarrassment was all on her side.

As for the boys, they were beside themselves with delight. It was easy to see they did not share their sister’s dislike. Poor little Claude clasped his arms about his neck and kissed him eagerly. Clement, in a way that showed he felt sure of his sympathy, began to tell him of the pony and the rabbits, insisting that he should come with him to the stable to see them at once.

The next day was Sunday. After a fortnight of lovely summer weather, a great change had taken place. The rain was falling in torrents, and the wind was whistling through the trees in the garden, when Christie looked out. A rainy day in the green room was by no means such a dreary matter as it used to be in Mrs Lee’s attic-nursery, with only a glimpse of driving clouds and dripping roofs to vary the dulness within. So Christie comforted little Claude for the want of his morning ride and ramble in the garden, telling him how glad the dusty leaves and thirsty little flowers would be for all the bright drops that were falling on them. She told him how the bees, that had been so busy all the week, must take a rest to-day, and how warm and dry the little birds would be in their nest in the pear-tree, for all the driving rain. Setting him in his favourite chair by the window, she amused him with talk like this, as she went about putting things in order in the room. While she comforted him she comforted herself; for the rain had brought a disappointment to her too. It had been arranged that Martha should take charge of Claude while Christie went to church in the morning, where she had not been for several Sabbaths. But remembering Mrs Greenly’s oft-repeated warnings against exposing herself to dampness, she did not like to venture in the rain. So she had to content herself at home.

This was an easier matter than it had sometimes been. As the morning wore away, and the time approached for the little boy to take his usual sleep, she was quite contented to be where she was.

“It is very pleasant, all this reading with Miss Gertrude,” she said. “She is very kind, and I like her very much. But I shall be glad to be alone for a little while.”

Claude’s eyes closed at last, and she was just taking her Bible from the table beside her, when the door opened and Miss Gertrude entered.