h.
There was a small figured carpet, crimson and black, upon the floor. It
did not quite reach the wall on one side, for Mrs Nesbitt's Scottish
parlour had been smaller than this one; and the deficiency was supplied
by a breadth of drugget, of a different shade of colour, which might
have marred the effect somewhat to one more fastidious than Christie.
For the rest, the chairs were of some common wood and painted brown, the
sofa was covered with chintz to match the window-curtains, and there was
a pale blue paper on the walls. For ornaments, there were two or three
pictures on the walls, and on the mantel-piece a great many curious
shells and a quaint old vase or two. There was a bookcase of some dark
wood in the corner, which was well filled with books, whose bindings
were plain and dark, not to say dingy. There were few of Christie's
favourites among them; so that the charm of the room did not lie there.
There was another small cabinet, with a glass door--a perfect treasury
of beautiful things, in Christie's estimation, old china and glass, and
an old-fashioned piece or two of plate; but the key was safely kept in
Mrs Nesbitt's pocket.

Perhaps it was the charm of association that made the place so pleasant
to Christie. Here, every day, she had been made to rest on the chintz
sofa, and every day she had wakened to find a kind face beaming upon her
and to hear a kind voice calling her by name. I think almost any place
would have been pleasant with Mrs Nesbitt going about so gently and
lovingly in it. Some thought of this came into Christie's mind, as she
lay musing there that Sabbath afternoon. The fading light fell on the
soft grey hair that showed beneath the widow's snowy cap, and on the
placid face beneath, with a strangely beautifying power. The sweet
gravity that was on her silent lips was better worth seeing, Christie
thought, than other people's smiles. Her eyes had no beauty, in the
common acceptation of the term. They seemed like eyes that had been
washed with many tears. But the sadness which must have looked from
them once had given place to patience and gentle kindness now.

"How nice and quiet it is here!" whispered Christie to her sister, who
sat beside her, leaning her head upon her hand.

Effie quite started, as she spoke.

"Yes; it is a very peaceful place. I get rid of all vexing thoughts
when I come in here." And she turned her eyes to Mrs Nesbitt's placid
face.

"Vexing thoughts