“Aunt Elsie, I am going to take Christie back with me, to stay a week with Mrs Nesbitt.”
Aunt Elsie looked astonished and somewhat displeased.
“Why should you do the like of that?” she asked.
“Oh, just for a change. She’s not very well, I think, and a little change will do her good.”
“Folk canna ay get changes when they would like them,” said Aunt Elsie, coldly. “I see nothing more than usual the matter with her. If she’s no’ well, home’s the best place for her. I see no cause why Mrs Nesbitt should be troubled with the likes of her.”
“Oh, Mrs Nesbitt winna think it a trouble. Christie will be no trouble to her. I know she canna well be spared. You’ll miss her; but she’ll be all the better a nurse when she comes home strong and cheerful.”
“I beg you winna think about me in making your plans for pleasuring,” said her aunt, in a tone which always made those who heard it uncomfortable. “I’ll try and do without her services for a while. She thinks much of herself; and so do you, it seems.”
There was an unpleasant pause, during which Effie congratulated herself on the forethought that had sent Christie safely to bed before the matter was discussed. Annie, as she generally did in similar circumstances, started another subject, hoping to avert anything more unpleasant. But Effie wanted the matter decided, and Aunt Elsie had something more to say.
“It’s my belief you mean to spoil the lassie, if she’s no spoiled already, petting and making a work with her as though she were really ill. Ill! It’s little any of you ken what it is to be ill.”
“I don’t think she’s very ill,” said Effie, gently; “but she’s nervous and weary and out of sorts, and I think maybe a change—”