people? And for her too? The Elder Brother! What a sweet name to give
to Jesus! It seemed easier to believe that He would care for her,
calling Him by that name.

And if it were really true that God heard her prayers and would answer
them, certainly things would not go so badly with her any more. But was
she one of His little ones? Surely there was no one more helpless and
hopeless and troubled--nobody that needed help more!

"Oh, if I could only be sure!" she whispered. "But I'll see to-night.
Aunt Elsie wasna vexed to-night. And if Effie has brought me the book,
I'll take it for a sign. Oh, I wish she would come!"

And yet, when Effie came in with a light in her hand, Christie was in no
haste to speak. Effie moved about very quietly, for fear of waking her
sisters; and then she sat down, shading the light from their faces.

"Haste you, Christie dear," she whispered. "I thought you were in bed.
It is more than time."

Christie slowly undressed, and after kneeling a little while, laid
herself down on the low bed beside her little sister. But she did not
sleep. She did not even close her eyes, but lay watching sometimes the
motionless figure of Effie and sometimes her shadow on the wall,
wondering all the while what could keep her occupied so silently and so
long. Yet when at last the book was closed and Effie began to move
about the room, she could not find courage to speak to her at once.

"Effie," she said, by and by, "did you bring me the book you promised?"

Effie started.

"Christie, I thought you were asleep! Do you know how late it is?"

"Did you bring me the book you promised?" repeated the child, eagerly.

Effie could not resist the beseeching face; and she came and seated
herself on the side of the bed.

"I wanted it so much," continued Christie. "I thought you would bring
it! Did you forget it? Or were you not up there this week?"

"I was there, and I didna forget it; but--"

"Did you bring it?" cried Christie, rising, in her eagerness. "Where is
it?"

Effie shook her head.

"I didna bring it, Christie."

Poor little Christie! She laid herself back on her pillow without a
word. The disappointment was a very bitter one; and she turned her face
away, that her sister might not see the tears that were gushing from her
eyes. She had all the week been looking forward to the pleasure of
having a book--"The Scottish Chiefs"--a stolen glance or two of which
had excited her int