His sunken eyes glanced wistfully at Christina; she felt compelled to utter some words of comfort. "Perhaps she is only tired--just for the time," she answered, though in uttering the words a remorseful remembrance smote her of the fragile white face of the woman she had left. "She will feel stronger again soon." "Do you think so? Do you really think so." He leant forward, and Christina saw how his hands were trembling; "you see, I feel--I can't help feeling--that it is my fault--all my fault. First, the old trouble; and then, my coming back to burden---- But you are a stranger to us," he exclaimed, breaking off and looking at her with a new alertness; "why did Madge send a stranger? Where is Elizabeth?" Christina, jumping to the conclusion that Elizabeth must be the kindly-faced servant, and anxious to check the sick man's rising excitement, said gently: "She is busy just now, and they sent me because I am a friend; and you may be quite sure that I shall never speak a word to anyone of what I see or hear in this house." "Then you don't know----" he began, breaking off again, and looking at her almost furtively. "I know nothing," was the grave response. "I came here just for to-night, to help--because--because Elizabeth is busy. That is all." To her great relief, he accepted her explanation without further questioning, the truth being that his brain, exhausted by illness, refused to work with any rapidity, being ready enough to accept whatever was put before it; and, with a weary sigh, he turned away from the girl, and held out his thin hands to the fire. "Now, can I fetch you anything, or do anything for you?" Christina asked brightly; "try to look upon me as--as Elizabeth, and let me do for you what she would do if she were here." His eyes turned to her again; he smiled. "You are not very like Elizabeth," he said, his glance taking in the slight figure in its neat green gown--the girlish face, the eager eyes; "a very fertile imagination would be needed to see Elizabeth in you." "I am afraid I am not half so capable as Elizabeth," she said, ignoring the subtle compliment, "but I will do my best." "Will you give me your arm to the bed then? I am too much of a cripple to walk there alone, but I can get myself into it when I am there. And if you would further be good enough to bring me from next door some milk, and whatever other eatables Elizabeth has prepared for me, I shall be very grateful. Though I cannot imagine why Elizabeth is leaving me to a stranger to-night," he went on, with the petulance of a sick child.