Mrs. Carrol seemed to find it so; the anxious look lifted a little
as she listened, and when Christie ended she said, with a sigh of
relief:
"Yes, I think Miss Tudor is right, and you are the one we want. Come
and try it for a week and then we can decide. Can you begin to-day?"
she added, as Christie rose. "Every hour is precious, for my poor
girl's sad solitude weighs on my heart, and this is my one hope."
"I will stay with pleasure," answered Christie, thinking Mrs.
Carrol's anxiety excessive, yet pitying the mother's pain, for
something in her face suggested the idea that she reproached herself
in some way for her daughter's state.
With secret gratitude that she had dressed with care, Christie took
off her things and followed Mrs. Carrol upstairs. Entering a room in
what seemed to be a wing of the great house, they found an old woman
sewing.
"How is Helen to-day, Nurse?" asked Mrs. Carrol, pausing.
"Poorly, ma'am. I've been in every hour, but she only says: 'Let me
be quiet,' and lies looking up at the picture till it's fit to break
your heart to see her," answered the woman, with a shake of the
head.
"I have brought Miss Devon to sit with her a little while.
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