Ch. 13 - Waking Up - Page 2

fought many a silent battle there; won many a secret victory; and
tried to cheer his solitude with the best thoughts the minds of the
bravest, wisest men could give him.

She did not smile at the dilapidated idols now, but touched them
tenderly, and let no dust obscure their well-beloved faces. She set
the books in order daily, taking many a sip of refreshment from them
by the way, and respectfully regarded those in unknown tongues, full
of admiration for David's learning. She covered the irruptive sofa
neatly; saw that the little vase was always clear and freshly
filled; cared for the nursery in the gable-window; and preserved an
exquisite neatness everywhere, which delighted the soul of the
room's order-loving occupant.

She also--alas, for romance!--cooked the dishes David loved, and
liked to see him enjoy them with the appetite which once had shocked
her so. She watched over his buttons with a vigilance that would
have softened the heart of the crustiest bachelor: she even gave
herself the complexion of a lemon by wearing blue, because David
liked the pretty contrast with his mother's drabs.

After recording that last fact, it is unnecessary to explain what
was the matter with Christie. She honestly thought she had got
religion; but it was piety's twin-sister, who produced this
wonderful revival in her soul; and though she began in all good
faith she presently discovered that she was

"Not the first maiden
Who came but for friendship,
And took away love."

After the birthnight confessions, David found it easier to go on
with the humdrum life he had chosen from a sense of duty; for now he
felt as if he had not only a fellow-worker, but a comrade and friend
who understood, sympathized with, and encouraged him by an interest
and good-will inexpressibly comfortable and inspiring. Nothing
disturbed the charm of the new league in those early days; for
Christie was thoroughly simple and sincere, and did her womanly work
with no thought of reward or love or admiration.

David saw this, and felt it more attractive than any gift of beauty
or fascination of manner would have been. He had no desire to be a
lover, having forbidden himself that hope; but he found it so easy
and pleasant to be a friend that he reproached himself for not
trying it before; and explained his neglect by the fact that
Christie was not an ordinary woman, since none of all the many he
had known and helped, had ever been any thing to him but objects of
pity and protection.

Mrs. Sterling saw these changes with her wise, motherly eyes, but
said nothing; for she influenced others by the silent power of
character. Speaking little, and unusually gifted with the meditative
habits