What a blow it was to be sure!  Christie actually felt vexed with him for disappointing her so, and could not recover herself, but stood red and awkward, till, with a last scrape of his boots, David said with placid brevity: 

“Well, shall we go in?”

Christie walked rapidly into the house, and by the time she got there the absurdity of her fancy struck her, and she stifled a laugh in the depths of the little pumpkin-hood, as she hung it up.  Then, assuming her gravest air, she went to give the finishing touches to dinner.

Ten minutes later she received another surprise; for David appeared washed, brushed, and in a suit of gray,—­a personable gentleman, quite unlike the workman in the yard.

Christie gave one look, met a pair of keen yet kind eyes with a suppressed laugh in them, and dropped her own, to be no more lifted up till dinner was done.

It was a very quiet meal, for no one said much; and it was evidently the custom of the house to eat silently, only now and then saying a few friendly words, to show that the hearts were social if the tongues were not.

On the present occasion this suited Christie; and she ate her dinner without making any more discoveries, except that the earth-stained hands were very clean now, and skilfully supplied her wants before she could make them known.

As they rose from table, Mrs. Sterling said:  “Davy, does thee want any help this afternoon?”

“I shall be very glad of some in about an hour if thee can spare it, mother.”

“I can, dear.”

“Do you care for flowers?” asked David, turning to Christie, “because if you do not, this will be a very trying place for you.”

“I used to love them dearly; but I have not had any for so long I hardly remember how they look,” answered Christie with a sigh, as she recalled Rachel’s roses, dead long ago.  “Shy, sick, and sad; poor soul, we must lend a hand and cheer her up a bit” thought David, as he watched her eyes turn toward the green tilings in the windows with a bright, soft look, he liked to see.

“Come to the conservatory in an hour, and I’ll show you the best part of a ‘German,’” he said, with a nod and a smile, as he went away, beginning to whistle like a boy when the door was shut behind him.

“What did he mean?” thought Christie, as she helped clear the table, and put every thing in Pimlico order.

She was curious to know, and when Mrs. Sterling said:  “Now, my dear, I am going to take my nap, and thee can help David if thee likes,” she was quite ready to try the new work.

She would have been more than woman if she had not first slipped upstairs to smooth her hair, put on a fresh collar, and a black silk apron with certain effective frills and pockets, while a scarlet rigolette replaced the hood, and lent a little color to her pale cheeks.

“I am a poor ghost of what I was,” she thought; “but that’s no matter:  few can be pretty, any one can be neat, and that is more than ever necessary here.”