Christie took her book and went down, but she did not read. Instead of that, she seated herself in the dark on the stairs, and began her unprofitable musings again. Mrs Lee was not asleep. She was evidently feverish and uncomfortable, and turned about and sighed often and heavily. Christie had been told not to go into her room unless she was called, so she sat still a little, beguiled from her own sad thoughts as she took note of the uneasiness of the sick lady.
“Are you there, nurse?” said Mrs Lee, at last.
Christie rose, and went softly in.
“Oh, is it you, Christie? Are the children asleep? How’s the baby to-night? I feel very weary and wakeful. I don’t know what ails me.”
“Shall I call nurse?” asked Christie.
“No. Oh, no. She could do nothing for me. Are you reading? Read to me a little. Perhaps it will quiet me and make me fall asleep.”
While Christie brought the light and placed it where Mrs Lee’s eyes would not be troubled by it, she said again:
“The children are quite well, nurse tells me. It was very well that you decided not to go home, Christie. I am very glad you stayed.”
Christie said nothing.
“I am afraid your sister was disappointed,” said Mrs Lee.