Christabel said nothing. In her heart she was very thankful for this unexpected release from the silly predicament she had got herself into, and deeper down still—for in that wayward little heart of hers there were better things than she allowed herself to be conscious of—she was really touched by her small brother’s kindness. So she said nothing, but watched him with some amusement as he cleverly drew on the stockings—toes first, then heels, sighing a little as he got to the long legs, so that Chrissie at this stage condescended to give a pull or two herself. And at last the task was triumphantly accomplished, and she stood upright and slipped the now clothed toes into the shoes lying in readiness.
“You’d better be a boy at a boot-shop, Japs,” she remarked. “You’re so clever.”
Jasper looked up with great gratification at this rather meagre acknowledgment of his services. And then, somehow, the sight of his flushed face and smiling eyes got hold of Chrissie—the naughty, foolish fit of obstinacy left her—she stooped and kissed him.
“You’ve been very kind,” she whispered, and Jasper threw his arms round her and hugged her.
Thanks and kisses did not come in his way as often as they ought to have done.
“I’ll be very quick now,” Christabel added. “I’ll be ready for Nurse to do my hair in five minutes. Run off, Japs, and tell her so. No—I’d rather you didn’t,” and she hesitated.
Jasper stood still and looked at her, his legs rather wide apart, his face solemn.
“I wasn’t going to tell nobody,” he replied.
“Well, run away then,” Christabel repeated, and off he went.