hin you.' Ah, that is the best of all!"

There was a pause again, and then Christie added--

"I can't say all I wish to say. Though I see all this clearly myself, I
haven't the way of making it clear to others. But there is one thing
sure. It is just those who feel themselves to be helpless that have
reason to hope. `For while we were yet without strength, in due time
Christ died for the ungodly.' Why need any one hesitate after that?"

Little more was said; but if ever Christie prayed earnestly she prayed
for Gertrude at that hour. And afterwards, when they met again, in
circumstances well calculated to dispel all foolish shyness in speaking
about such things, Gertrude told her that she too was praying as she had
never prayed before. And the happy tears that stood in their eyes as
they spoke afforded good evidence that these petitions, though silent,
had not ascended in vain.

The days that followed the departure of Gertrude were uneventful ones.
Only one thing happened before spring came to break the quiet routine of
Christie's life. The little boy Claude loved her better every day, but
no better than she loved him. And as time passed on, and his health,
notwithstanding the frequent recurrence of bad days and sudden turns of
illness, continued steadily to improve, the influence for good which his
little nurse and her simple teachings had over him became more apparent
to all the household.

She was treated by Mrs Seaton with a consideration which she had not
been in the habit of showing her servants. Hitherto the daily drives of
the little invalid had been shared by his mother or Gertrude, while
Christie was expected during their absence to perform such duties in the
nursery as could not well be attended to while the children were with
her. But after Gertrude went away it was usually so arranged that
Christie should go with him. She was growing tall, but she was very
slender; and though she never complained of illness, it was easy to be
seen that she had not much strength to fall back upon. Grateful for her
loving care of her helpless little boy, Mrs Seaton spared her all
possible labour, while she trusted her implicitly in all that concerned
both children.

"If she were only a little stronger, I should consider myself very
fortunate in having a nurse in every way so suitable for my little boy,"
said Mrs Seaton many a time. And many a time, as the spring
approached, Christie said to herself:

"If