lay in the cot. So they went on better than might have
been expected. But what with the close confinement in the house, and
the climbing of two or three long flights of stairs, Christie grew pale
and thin, and was many a time very weary.

She had one pleasant hour in the week. At ten on every Sabbath morning
she called for her sister, and they went to church together. Not to the
church they would have chosen at first. There they had difficulty in
finding seats together; so they went elsewhere, with a friend of
Annie's, and after a time they had no desire to change. They rarely saw
each other during the week. Annie sometimes came into Christie's
nursery; but the only real pleasure they had together was in the walk to
and from church on Sabbath morning.

March was passing away. The snow was nearly gone, but there had been a
shower during the night, and the pavements were wet, as Christie set out
on her accustomed walk one morning. The wind blew freshly, too, and
weary with the work of six days, she shrank from facing it, even for a
little while, with her sister, so, at the street by which she usually
went to the house where Annie lived, she paused.

"I'll wait in the church for her to-day," she said to herself. "I'm
tired, and it's later than usual. She'll know if I'm not there by
half-past ten, and she'll come down. At any rate, I'm too tired to go
up the hill."

Yes, she was very tired. The fresh air did not brighten and enliven her
as it usually did. The warm, moist wind that came in gusts from the
south was not invigorating, and she went slowly up the church-steps,
glad that her walk was over. There was no one in the church. Even the
sexton was not visible; and Christie placed herself in her accustomed
seat under the gallery, near the door, glad to rest in the pleasant
stillness of the place. How quiet and peaceful it seemed! The sound of
the moaning wind seemed to come from far-away, and the stillness within
was all the deeper. After the noise and turmoil of six days, the
silence was more grateful to her weary sense than the sound of sweetest
music would have been; and closing her eyes, she leaned back, not to
think, but to rest and be at peace.

Soon the congregation began to assemble, but her repose was too deep to
be disturbed by the sound of footsteps or the rustling of garments. She
neither stirred nor heard a sound till Annie laid her hand upon her arm.
Then she awoke with a start, com