At first all this seemed to amuse David as much as if Kitty were a small child playing at sweethearts; but soon his manner changed, growing respectful, and a little cool when Kitty was most confiding.  He no longer laughed about Miles, stopped calling her “little girl,” and dropped his paternal ways as he had done with Christie.  By many indescribable but significant signs he showed that he considered Kitty a woman now and treated her as such, being all the more scrupulous in the respect he paid her, because she was so unprotected, and so wanting in the natural dignity and refinement which are a woman’s best protection.

Christie admired him for this, but saw in it the beginning of a tenderer feeling than pity, and felt each day that she was one too many now.

Kitty was puzzled and piqued by these changes, and being a born flirt tried all her powers on David, veiled under guileless girlishness.  She was very pretty, very charming, and at times most lovable and sweet when all that was best in her shallow little heart was touched.  But it was evident to all that her early acquaintance with the hard and sordid side of life had brushed the bloom from her nature, and filled her mind with thoughts and feelings unfitted to her years.

Mrs. Sterling was very kind to her, but never treated her as she did Christie; and though not a word was spoken between them the elder women knew that they quite agreed in their opinion of Kitty.  She evidently was rather afraid of the old lady, who said so little and saw so much.  Christie also she shunned without appearing to do so, and when alone with her put on airs that half amused, half irritated the other.

“David is my friend, and I don’t care for any one else,” her manner said as plainly as words; and to him she devoted herself so entirely, and apparently so successfully, that Christie made up her mind he had at last begun to forget his Letty, and think of filling the void her loss had left.

A few words which she accidentally overheard confirmed this idea, and showed her what she must do.  As she came quietly in one evening from a stroll in the lane, and stood taking off cloak and hood, she caught a glimpse through the half-open parlor door of David pacing to and fro with a curiously excited expression on his face, and heard Mrs. Sterling say with unusual warmth: 

“Thee is too hard upon thyself, Davy.  Forget the past and be happy as other men are.  Thee has atoned for thy fault long ago, so let me see thee at peace before I die, my son.”

“Not yet, mother, not yet.  I have no right to hope or ask for any woman’s love till I am worthier of it,” answered David in a tone that thrilled Christie’s heart:  it was so full of love and longing.

Here Kitty came running in from the green-house with her hands full of flowers, and passing Christie, who was fumbling among the cloaks in the passage, she went to show David some new blossom.