“Dear me, what a pity you can’t always be so kind and helping, Miss Chrissie,” for immediately came the toss of the haughty little head and the pert reply—
“I shall do as I choose always, Nurse. You might know that, by this time, I should think.”
“Your father writes that he is coming home to-morrow,” said Mrs Fortescue, the next day. “I am so glad to be feeling better and stronger than when I first got back, for now house-hunting will start in good earnest. The agents have several chances of letting this, I hear, and we must not lose any.”
“How horrible it is,” exclaimed Christabel, and though Leila did not speak, her face grew very gloomy. Their mother glanced at them with disappointment.
“Dears,” she said, “I hoped you were going to be so brave and help me to meet Daddy cheerfully.”
“Really, Mummy,” said Chrissie, “I don’t see why you should scold us before we’ve done anything naughty.”
“Scold you,” repeated their mother. “I don’t think you have the least idea of what the word means, my poor little girl,” and she could not help smiling a little.
“Well,” persisted the child, “you can’t expect us to like going to live in some horrible poky place.”
Mrs Fortescue thought it best not to answer. She knew too well what Chrissie could be, once a “contrary” fit was on her.
“Is Aunt Margaret coming too?” asked Leila.