Christie was sure of this, and would not be repulsed; for her own
heart was very solitary. She missed Helen, and longed to fill the
empty place. She wooed this shy, cold girl as patiently and as
gently as a lover might, determined to win her confidence, because
all the others had failed to do it. Sometimes she left a flower in
Rachel's basket, always smiled and nodded as she entered, and often
stopped to admire the work of her tasteful fingers. It was
impossible to resist such friendly overtures, and slowly Rachel's
coldness melted; into the beseeching eyes came a look of gratitude,
the more touching for its wordlessness, and an irrepressible smile
broke over her face in answer to the cordial ones that made the
sunshine of her day.
Emboldened by these demonstrations, Christie changed her seat, and
quietly established between them a daily interchange of something
beside needles, pins, and spools. Then, as Rachel did not draw back
offended, she went a step farther, and, one day when they chanced to
be left alone to finish off a delicate bit of work, she spoke out
frankly:
"Why can't we be friends? I want one sadly, and so do you, unless
your looks deceive me. We both seem to be alone in the world, to
have had trouble, and to like one another.
Pages:
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161