Master Clement answered:
“No, I shan’t go to bed yet. It’s only seven o’clock.”
“Come in,” said Mr Seaton, kindly. “I want to know how these little fellows have behaved since their mother went away.”
Christie came forward shyly, curtseying, in some confusion, to Mrs Lane, whom her short-sighted eyes did not discern till she was close upon her.
“I hope they have been good and obedient, and have not given you much trouble?” said Mr Seaton again.
A little smile passed over Christie’s mouth. “Master Clement is Miss Gertrude’s boy, sir,” she said, as she stooped to buckle the belt of that active young gentleman.
“And I’m very good. She punishes me when I ain’t good.”
“I’m afraid she has enough to do, then. And the doctor thinks Claude is better, does he?” he asked, caressing the pale little face that lay on his shoulder.
“Yes,” said Christie, doubtfully. “He says he is better.”
There was no mistaking the look of wistful interest that overspread her face as she looked at the child.