was
everywhere, and Christie was more restless and feverish than he had ever
seen her. She was now very often that way in the afternoon, she told
him; but when his eyes were accustomed to the dim light, he saw that
there were traces of tears on her flushed cheek, and he noticed that
even now it was all that she could do to keep her voice steady as she
spoke.

He did not ask her what troubled her; he had an instinctive feeling that
the question would bring back her tears, but he said, cheerfully:

"You look as if you needed a good sleep. Suppose I read to you a
little?"

Her Bible lay on the pillow, and he took it up. She laid herself down
wearily, and rested her cheek on her hand. The book opened most readily
at the Psalms, and he read what first met his eye.

"`They that wait on the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, that cannot be
removed. As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is
round about His people, from henceforth even for ever.'"

Christie's countenance lighted up with pleasure as he read, and the
tears that had been close at hand flowed freely. It was only a summer
shower, however, and they were soon dried, but the smile remained. Mr
Sherwood looked at her a little surprised.

"`They that wait on the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, that cannot be
removed,'" she repeated. "Surely that ought to be enough to make me
content."

"And was it because you had forgotten it that I found you with such a
sad face to-day?" he asked, gravely.

He read on, while Christie lay quite still, her eyes closed, and Mr
Sherwood thought she slept; but when he stopped reading she opened her
eyes, and thanked him gratefully. She was evidently soothed and
comforted, and Mr Sherwood could not help wondering at the change.

"I had a letter from my sister Effie, since you were here," said she.

"I trust you had no bad news? Are all well at home?"

"They are all well now, but little Will had the scarlet fever, and Effie
couldn't leave him; and now her holidays are over, and she cannot come
to see me."

"Did you expect her?"

"I did not expect her; but now her holidays are over, she cannot
possibly come, I know."

"I fear you must be greatly disappointed!" said Mr Sherwood, kindly.

"Yes, at first. For a little while I felt as though no one cared for
me, but that was foolish and wrong. If Effie had known how ill I am,
she would have come, though it is such a long way. I am afraid I have
not done righ