thoughtless words, by taking no notice of the tea; but Effie interposed
again:

"You are very kind, Annie. What a pity you should spoil all by those
needless words!"

Annie laughed.

"Nonsense!" she said. "I didna mean to say anything unkind. Christie
mustna be so testy. Don't tell me that you like milk better than tea.
Christie will enjoy hers all the better if you take one too." And she
placed it before her.

"Thank you. It's very nice," said Effie. "But the milk would have done
very well."

The quick tap of Aunt Elsie's cane was heard approaching.

"I doubt you are getting away from Sabbath subjects," said Aunt Elsie.
"Haste you with your supper, bairns--your father's waiting to have
worship. Christie, if you are tired, you should go to bed at once."

For once, Christie did not wait for a second bidding. She was very
tired; and long before the usual Sabbath evening's examination was over,
she had forgotten her doubts and fears and vexing thoughts in sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR.

ORPHANHOOD.

When Christie was complaining of the small vexations and unvaried
sameness of her daily life, she little dreamed how near at hand was the
time when Effie's words were to prove true. Before the frost came to
hush the pleasant murmur of the brook, or the snow had hidden alike the
turf seat and the sear leaves of the birch-tree beside it, Christie was
looking back over the stolen moments passed there on summer afternoons,
with feelings with which were mingled wonder and pain and self-reproach.
For the shadow of a coming sorrow was over their household. Day by day
they seemed to be drawing nearer to a change which all saw, but which
none had courage to name. The neighbours came and went, and spoke
hopefully to the awed and anxious children; but they were grave, and
said to one another that the poor young Redferns would soon be
fatherless.

The harvest was quite over, and the assistance of the girls was no
longer necessary out-of-doors, when one day Mr Redfern went alone to
bring home the last load of turnips from a distant field; and when his
children saw his face again it was like the face of the dead. Whether
he had been thrown from the cart he had been driving, or whether he had
fallen in some sort of fit, they could not tell. Even the doctor, who
had been sent for from the next town, could not account for the state of
stupor in which he found him. Two days of painful suspense passed; and
then, contrary