Mrs Lee read, “He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust.”
“That was John’s,” said Christie, quickly. “One day a hawk came very near, and we saw the chickens run to take shelter with their mother; and in the evening John marked that passage, because, he said, it was just the right one for a feeble, frightened, faithless little creature like me. I was not well at the time.”
Christie paused, partly because she thought she had said enough, and partly because it would not have been easy for her to say more just then.
“I don’t think your friend could have known you very well,” said Mrs Lee, smiling. “He would never call you feeble, or frightened, if he knew all you have done, and what a comfort you have been to me, this winter.”
“Oh, he meant that I was not brave and cheerful, like Effie; and I am not.”
“It is pleasant to have these tokens of your friend, any way,” said Mrs Lee, musingly.
“There are other of his marks:—‘Under the shadow of Thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities be overpast,’—and another about rejoicing under the shadow of His wings.”
It was a troubled, tearful face that Christie laid down on her hands as she said this. Mrs Lee was still turning over the leaves, and took no notice of the sigh that escaped the little nurse.
“You read it to please your sister and your friend, do you? Or do you really love to read it? I have heard of those who find their chief happiness in believing what the Bible teaches. Do you?”
There was a pause, during which Christie slowly raised her face from her hands and turned it towards Mrs Lee. Then she said, with some hesitation: