"He's a perfect dear, but he would not for the world go out of the orthodox track. He believes in formal introductions, and long acquaintance as a prelude to friendship, and he would rather die than give his confidence to anyone, unless he had known them for years, and knew everything about them." A faint, a very faint, smile hovered over Christina's lips. Did Mr. Mernside really think long acquaintance a necessary prelude to friendship? Did he only give his confidence to those he had known longest? Seated in the firelight in this very room, only a fortnight ago, he had told her many things, which surely he would only have told to a friend--a faithful and loyal friend? And yet she had known him for so short a time, if time was to be measured merely by days and weeks. "You saw Rupert the other day?" Lady Cicely went on, no thought of what was in the girl's mind crossing her own; "he wrote and told me how well and happy Baba looked." "He was so kind." Christina's voice was quite non-committal. "He came twice to have tea with Baba--I think he enjoyed nursery tea," she added demurely. "He loves children, and they love him. He is a most disappointing person, never to have married. I always tell him so. But he is not the least a woman's man; I really don't believe there has ever been a woman in Rupert's life at all." The words echoed oddly in Christina's ears, when memory was still bringing back to her the vivid recollection of Rupert's princess in the white gown, of Rupert's own lined and haggard face, when he had told her the story of the beautiful lady who dominated his life. Discretion led her to reply more or less evasively to Cicely's words, and to her great relief the subject dropped, and her small ladyship returned to the discussion of Christina's own affairs. "As to any question of your leaving us," she said; "there is no such question. Neither Baba nor I can do without you now. And I have not yet discovered that you are any of the dreadful things one seems to expect people to be. We always ask if nurses are sober and honest; and I don't believe you drink or steal." Christina laughed gaily. "No, I'm not a thief or a drunkard, I can truly say. But all the same you might not have found that I knew enough about children to give you satisfaction, and there are so many ways in which you might say I am inefficient." "I find you just what I want," Cicely answered emphatically, "and so does Baba. Why, if you left her now, it would break her dear little heart. No, you have got to stay with us for ever and ever, amen; we will take Baba to town as soon as that nice Dr. Fergusson says she may move, and then we will go to Bramwell for Christmas." The thought of "that nice Dr. Fergusson" recurred to the little lady more than once that evening, when she sat writing in the sitting-room, whilst Christina performed Baba's evening toilette.