Miss Devon, my brother, Mr. Fletcher."
The gentleman bowed, and as Christie sat down he got up, saying, as
he sauntered away with a bored expression:
"Will you have the paper, Charlotte? There's nothing in it."
As Mrs. Saltonstall seemed going to sleep and she felt delicate
about addressing the irritable infants in public, Christie amused
herself by watching Mr. Fletcher as he roamed listlessly about, and
deciding, in her usual rash way, that she did not like him because
he looked both lazy and cross, and ennui was evidently his bosom
friend. Soon, however, she forgot every thing but the shimmer of the
sunshine on the sea, the fresh wind that brought color to her pale
cheeks, and the happy thoughts that left a smile upon her lips. Then
Mr. Fletcher put up his glass and stared at her, shook his head, and
said, as he lit a cigar:
"Poor little wretch, what a time she will have of it between
Charlotte and the brats!"
But Christie needed no pity, and thought herself a fortunate young
woman when fairly established in her corner of the luxurious
apartments occupied by the family. Her duties seemed light compared
to those she had left, her dreams were almost as bright as of old,
and the new life looked pleasant to her, for she was one of those
who could find little bits of happiness for herself and enjoy them
heartily in spite of loneliness or neglect.
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