Still standing before him, she bent her head a little, and with a graceful gesture of the hands, as if offering something, she delivered with heartfelt emphasis the first part of Portia’s pretty speech to her fortunate suitor: 

    “You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
    Such as I am:  though, for myself alone,
    I would not be ambitious in my wish,
    To wish myself much better; yet for you,
    I would be trebled twenty times myself;
    A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich;
    That, only to stand high in your account,
    I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
    Exceed account:  but the full sum of me
    Is sum of something; which, to term in gross,
    Is an unlesson’d girl, unschool’d, unpractis’d:—­
    Happy in this, she is not yet so old
    But she may learn; happier than this,
    She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
    Happiest of all, is that her willing spirit
    Commits itself to yours to be directed,
    As from her lord, her governor, her king.”

David applauded vigorously; but Mr. Power rose silently, looking both touched and surprised; and, drawing Christie’s hand through his arm, led her away into the garden for one of the quiet talks that were so much to her.

When they returned, the Wilkinses were preparing to depart; and, after repeated leave-takings, finally got under way, were packed into the omnibus, and rumbled off with hats, hands, and handkerchiefs waving from every window.  Mr. Power soon followed, and peace returned to the little house in the lane.

Later in the evening, when Mrs. Sterling was engaged with a neighbor, who had come to confide some affliction to the good lady, Christie went into the porch, and found David sitting on the step, enjoying the mellow moonlight and the balmy air.  As he did not speak, she sat down silently, folded her hands in her lap, and began to enjoy the beauty of the night in her own way.  Presently she became conscious that David’s eyes had turned from the moon to her own face.  He sat in the shade, she in the light, and he was looking at her with the new expression which amused her.

“Well, what is it?  You look as if you never saw me before,” she said, smiling.

“I feel as if I never had,” he answered, still regarding her as if she had been a picture.

“What do I look like?”

“A peaceful, pious nun, just now.”

“Oh! that is owing to my pretty shawl.  I put it on in honor of the day, though it is a trifle warm, I confess.”  And Christie stroked the soft folds about her shoulders, and settled the corner that lay lightly on her hair.  “I do feel peaceful to-night, but not pious.  I am afraid I never shall do that,” she added soberly.

“Why not?”

“Well, it does not seem to be my nature, and I don’t know how to change it.  I want something to keep me steady, but I can’t find it.  So I whiffle about this way and that, and sometimes think I am a most degenerate creature.”