“If it were for no other reason than that,” continued Effie, “I could not consent to burden you in the way you propose; and besides—your mother—”
She turned, and caught the astonished eyes of Christie peering out of the darkness, and paused.
“Effie,” said Christie, when they were in their own room, and the candle was out, “what were you saying to John Nesbitt to-night?”
“Saying?” repeated Effie.
“Yes—in the parlour. Does he want us to come and live here? I thought he did by what he said.”
“Some of us,” said Effie, after a pause. “John is very kind, and so is his mother. But of course it is not to be thought of.”
“Must we leave the farm, Effie?” asked Christie, anxiously.
“I hardly know; I cannot tell. Aunt Elsie must decide.”
“Is it not ours, Effie? Was my father in debt?”
“Not for the farm; but it was paid for, or partly paid for, with money that belonged to Aunt Elsie. I canna explain it. She sold her annuity, or gave up her income, in some way, when we came here. And in the letter that father wrote, he said that he wished that in some way, as soon as possible, she should get it back.”