“‘Great peace have they that love Thy law,’” she murmured. “I do love it; and I have the peace.”
Very humble and earnest were the prayers that rose beside the bed of little Claude that day, and very grave, yet happy, was the face that greeted his waking. Christie needed all her patience, for this was one of Claude’s fretful days. He grew weary of being confined to one room; he longed for the company of his sister and Clement. His brother came in for a little while after he had had his dinner; but he was in one of his troublesome moods, and vexed and fretted Claude so much that Christie was fain to give him over to Martha’s charge, bidding him not come into the green room till he was ready to be good and kind.
In the meantime, Miss Gertrude was enjoying her book in her own room; or, rather, she was not enjoying it. It had lost much of its interest to her. She was not in a humour to enjoy anything just then. She wandered into the parlour at last, thinking a chat with her father, or even with Mr Sherwood, would be better than her book. But her father was in the library, with the door shut, and Mr Sherwood had gone out, notwithstanding the rain. The deserted room looked dreary, and she went to her own again.
At six she went down to dinner. They were not a very lively party. Mr Seaton looked sleepy, and yawned several times before they went to the dining-room. Mr Sherwood was very grave, and, indeed, “stupid,” as Gertrude thought.
“What a misfortune a rainy Sunday is!” she said at last. “One scarcely knows what to do with one’s self. This has seemed twice as long as other days.”
“Pray don’t let any one hear you say that, my dear,” said her father, laughing. “If one rainy Sunday exhausts the resources of a well-educated young lady, I am afraid her prospects are not the brightest.”
Miss Gertrude laughed.
“Oh, father, I haven’t quite got to that state of exhaustion! But I have been dull and stupid—not able to settle myself to the enjoyment of anything—all day.”
“Where are the boys?” asked her father.
“Claude is in the green room, with his nurse. Indeed, I suppose both boys are there just now. After dinner I shall send for them. Claude really seems better; he runs about again.”