“You shall not be troubled, for you are only a child after all.  Let the lovers go, and stay and play with me, for I’ve been rather lonely lately.”

“That’s a reproach for me,” thought Christie, longing to cry out:  “No, no; send the girl away and let me be all in all to you.”  But she only turned up the lamp and pretended to be looking for a spool, while her heart ached and her eyes were too dim for seeing.

“I’m too old to play, but I’ll stay and tease you as I used to, if Miles don’t come and carry me off as he said he would,” answered Kitty, with a toss of the head which showed she was not so childlike as David fancied.  But the next minute she was sitting on a stool at his feet petting the cat, while she told her adventures with girlish volubility.

Christie could not bear to sit and look on any longer, so she left the room, saying she would see if Mrs. Sterling wanted any thing, for the old lady kept her room with a touch of rheumatism.  As she shut the door, Christie heard Kitty say softly: 

“Now we’ll be comfortable as we used to be:  won’t we?”

What David answered Christie did not stay to hear, but went into the kitchen, and had her first pang of jealousy out alone, while she beat up the buckwheats for breakfast with an energy that made them miracles of lightness on the morrow.

When she told Mrs. Sterling of the new arrival, the placid little lady gave a cluck of regret and said with unusual emphasis: 

“I’m sorry for it.”

“Why?” asked Christie, feeling as if she could embrace the speaker for the words.

“She is a giddy little thing, and much care to whoever befriends her.”  Mrs. Sterling would say no more, but, as Christie bade her good-night, she held her hand, saying with a kiss: 

“No one will take thy place with me, my daughter.”

For a week Christie suffered constant pin-pricks of jealousy, despising herself all the time, and trying to be friendly with the disturber of her peace.  As if prompted by an evil spirit, Kitty unconsciously tried and tormented her from morning to night, and no one saw or guessed it unless Mrs. Sterling’s motherly heart divined the truth.  David seemed to enjoy the girl’s lively chat, her openly expressed affection, and the fresh young face that always brightened when he came.

Presently, however, Christie saw a change in him, and suspected that he had discovered that Kitty was a child no longer, but a young girl with her head full of love and lovers.  The blue eyes grew shy, the pretty face grew eloquent with blushes now and then, as he looked at it, and the lively tongue faltered sometimes in speaking to him.  A thousand little coquetries were played off for his benefit, and frequent appeals for advice in her heart affairs kept tender subjects uppermost in their conversations.