Just then David handed her the basket, saying in the paternal way that half amused, half piqued her: “It, is getting too chilly for you here: take these in please, and I’ll bring the milk directly.” In spite of herself she smiled, as a sudden vision of the elegant Mr. Fletcher, devotedly carrying her book or beach-basket, passed through her mind; then hastened to explain the smile, for David lifted his brows inquiringly, and glanced about him to see what amused her. “I beg your pardon: I’ve lived alone so much that it seems a little odd to be told to do things, even if they are as easy and pleasant as this.” “I am so used to taking care of people, and directing, that I do so without thinking. I won’t if you don’t like it,” and he put out his hand to take back the basket with a grave, apologetic air. “But I do like it; only it amused me to be treated like a little girl again, when I am nearly thirty, and feel seventy at least, life has been so hard to me lately.” Her face sobered at the last words, and David’s instantly grew so pitiful she could not keep her eyes on it lest they should fill, so suddenly did the memory of past troubles overcome her. “I know,” he said in a tone that warmed her heart, “I know, but we are going to try, and make life easier for you now, and you must feel that this is home and we are friends.” “I do!” and Christie flushed with grateful feeling and a little shame, as she went in, thinking to herself: “How silly I was to say that! I may have spoilt the simple friendliness that was so pleasant, and have made him think me a foolish stuck-up old creature.” Whatever he might have thought, David’s manner was unchanged when he came in and found her busy with the table. “It’s pleasant to see thee resting, mother, and every thing going on so well,” he said, glancing about the room, where the old lady sat, and nodding toward the kitchen, where Christie was toasting bread in her neatest manner. “Yes, Davy, it was about time I had a helper for thy sake, at least; and this is a great improvement upon heedless Kitty, I am inclined to think.” Mrs. Sterling dropped her voice over that last sentence; but Christie heard it, and was pleased. A moment or two later, David came toward her with a glass in his hand, saying as if rather doubtful of his reception: “New milk is part of the cure: will you try it?” For the first time, Christie looked straight up in the honest eyes that seemed to demand honesty in others, and took the glass, answering heartily: “Yes, thank you; I drink good health to you, and better manners to me.” The newly lighted lamp shone full in her face, and though it was neither young nor blooming, it showed something better than youth and bloom to one who could read the subtle language of character as David could. He nodded as he took the glass, and went away saying quietly: “We are plain people here, and you won’t find it hard to get on with us, I think.”