ther slowly wound and unwound the ribbon of a child's hat
that lay beside her. Her head was bent low over her book, and Christie
could not see her face for the long, bright curls that shaded it. So
intent was she on her reading that she did not hear the sound of
footsteps; and Christie stood admiring the pretty picture which the
young girl and the flowers and the drooping vine-leaves made, without
caring to speak.

She might have stood long enough before the young reader would have
stirred, had not some one advanced from the other side.

"Miss Gertrude, the carriage will be round in ten minutes."

"Yes, I know," said the young girl, without raising her eyes. "I am
quite ready to go."

"But Master Clement is going; and nurse is busy, and he won't let me
dress him; and if you please, Miss Gertrude, Mrs Seaton begs that you
will come and coax him, and try to get him away without waking his
brother."

The young lady rose, shutting her book with an impatient gesture; and
then she saw Christie.

"Good morning," she said. "Do you wish to see any one?"

"I wish to see Mrs Seaton. Mrs Lee sent me," said Christie.

"Oh, the new nurse for Clement. I dare say he won't go into town
to-day, Martha. It was only to get him out of the way--the young
tyrant. Show this girl to Mrs Seaton's room. She wished to see her as
soon as she came." And then she sat down and took up her book again.

"If you please, Miss Gertrude, Mrs Seaton wishes to see you at once.
Perhaps you will be so obliging as to go up-stairs with her. Master
Clement has kept me so long that I fear I shall not have the things
ready to send with Peter."

Miss Gertrude rose, but with not the best grace in the world, and
Christie followed her into the house and up-stairs. At the first
landing a door opened, and a little boy, half-dressed, rushed out.

"Tudie, let me go with you; I want to go."

"Naughty boys who won't let Mattie dress them mustn't expect to be taken
anywhere. You are not to come with me. You will wake Claude."

"Oh, Claude's awake, and crying to be dressed. Let me go with you,"
pleaded the child.

"No; you are not to come. Remember, I tell you so; and I am not Mattie,
to be trifled with."

Miss Gertrude spoke very gravely. Her brother, a spirited little lad of
five or six years of age, looked up into her face with defiance in his
eyes. Then he gave a glance down the long hall, as if meditating a rush
in that direction; but h