Christie Redfern's Troubles

by Margaret M. Robertson

Yes, Effie would have liked anything that could bring such a glow to her sister’s face; and she entered into a discussion of ways and means with as much earnestness as Christie herself, and they soon grew quite excited over their plans. Indeed, all the rest of the visit was passed cheerfully. Mrs Seaton, after seeing and talking with Effie, confirmed the plan about sending Claude with Christie in the summer, provided it would be agreeable to them all.

“He has become so attached to her, I hardly know how he could do without her now,” said Mrs Seaton. “And I suppose nothing would make Christie willing to forego her visit at home when summer comes.”

To tell the truth, Mrs Seaton was greatly surprised and pleased with the sister of her little nurse. She knew, of course, that Christie had been what her country-people called “well brought up,” and she had gathered from some of Gertrude’s sayings that the family must have seen better days. But she was not prepared to find in the elder sister that Christie had mentioned, sometimes even in her presence, a person at all like Effie.

“She had quite the appearance of a gentlewoman,” said Mrs Seaton. “She was perfectly self-possessed, yet simple and modest. I assure you I was quite struck with her.”

The brief visit came to an end all too quickly. The hope of a pleasant meeting in summer made the parting comparatively easy, and helped Christie to feel quite contented when she found herself alone. She was in danger sometimes of falling into her old despondent feelings, but she knew her weakness and watched against it, and made the most of the few pleasures that fell to her lot.

“I won’t begin and count the weeks yet,” she said to herself. “That would make the time seem longer. I will just wait, and be cheerful and hopeful, as Effie bade me; and surely I have good cause to be cheerful. I only wish I were a little stronger.”

The winter seemed to take its leave slowly and unwillingly that year, but it went at last. First the brown sides of the mountains showed themselves, and then the fields grew bare, and here and there the water began to make channels for itself down the slopes to the low places. By and by the gravel walks and borders of the garden appeared; and as the days grew long, the sunshine came pleasantly in through the bare boughs of the trees to chequer the nursery floor.

The month of March seemed long; there were many bleak days in it. But it passed, as did the first weeks of April. The fields grew warm and green, and over the numberless budding things in the fields and garden Christie watched with intense delight. The air became mild and balmy, and then they could pass hour after hour in the garden, as they used to do when she first came.

But Christie did not grow strong, though often during the last part of the winter she had said to herself that all she needed to make her well again was the fresh air and the spring sunshine. Her old lameness came, or else she suffered from a new cause, more hopeless and harder to bear. The time came when a journey to or from the upper nursery was a wearisome matter to her. Wakeful nights and languid days became frequent. It was with great difficulty sometimes that she dragged herself through the duties of the weary day.

She did not complain of illness. She hoped every day that the worst was over, and that she would be as well as usual again. Mrs Seaton lightened her duties in various ways. Martha, the nurse in the lower nursery, was very kind and considerate too, and did what she could to save her from exertion. But no one thought her ill; she did not think herself so. It was the pain in her knee, making her nights so sleepless and wearisome, that was taking her strength away, she thought; if she could only rest as she used to do, she would soon be well. So for a few days she struggled on.