Nellie was worn-out; and when Christina wrapped her up on the sofa, and sat down by her in the firelight, she felt a strange feeling of rest and comfort stealing over her. The past months had been full of sorrow and self-command, and now that she felt it was all over, not even Walter's coming could rouse her out of a kind of blank restfulness, which was partly sorrow and partly relief. "I shall be better to-morrow," she whispered. "I am going down to see after the others," said Christina, "and you shall go to sleep." "Oh, no!" "I shall expect you to, and I will bring you up a cup of tea when I have poured out for the rest." She left her, and went down. "Nellie looks very tired and poorly," she observed to Ada, when she rejoined them. "She is," said Ada. "She told me she had a headache. Wilmot Elliot was there this, morning, and Walter's letter upset her too." Christina then explained to them that they only knew half the news, and great was the surprise of the two, to find Walter could have omitted such an important part of it in writing to their father. "Now, I suppose you'll be married in no time," said Arthur. "I do not know what 'no time' means," answered Christina. She felt rather glad to escape from their questions, to go up again to Nellie. She begged her aunt to make them happy, and giving her a loving kiss, and whispering, "I think Nellie needs me," she was leaving the room, when Nurse Margaret entered, carrying little Charlie Wood for a good-night kiss. Christina set her little tray again on the table, and turned to her new baby boy. "Well, my little man," she exclaimed, taking him proudly in her arms, "so you have come to wish Auntie good-night?" The frail little fellow smiled with delight, and Christina went to a drawer and gave him a sugarplum, then holding him out towards her aunt, she said, smiling, "Now a kiss for Charlie, Aunt Mary." Miss Arbuthnot did not seem surprised. In this little family, love reigned, and they treated the little children as cherished lambs in the fold of the Great Shepherd. "Have you heard of his mother lately?" asked Ada, when Margaret had carried him off. "Oh, yes!" said Christina. "I hear regularly every week. She is getting on so nicely; she is better in health, and has never touched one drop of spirits or anything since that day. It is worth a lifetime of self-denial to be allowed to save such a one." "Will she go home yet?" "For Christmas," answered Christina. "Oh, if you could see her husband's letters! He has not seen her yet, but she writes to him." She took up the tray again, and left the room. She found by Nellie's peaceful breathing that she had fallen asleep, and she sat down by her side, glad herself to have a little quiet time to think. In a few moments, however, Nellie stirred and gave a long sobbing sigh. "I can't, I can't!" she murmured. Christina laid her hand on her arm, and said gently, "You are dreaming, dear."