"It's so, Christie," she said laughingly-- "three flour-sacks apiece; but I'm jealous: yours are all marked
Carr had remained uneasily watching Christie's shadowed face.
"And not take a salary or some sum of money down?" said Christie, slowly removing her bonnet in the same resigned way.
"I am not a hired man, or a workman, Christie," said her father sharply.
"These young men are not common people, Christie; even if they have forgotten the restraints of speech and manners, they're gentlemen."
Carr's escape and Christie's uneasiness, Jessie, who had been examining the details of the living-room, broke in upon this conversation.
"Really, now, Christie," said Jessie confidentially, when they were alone, and Christie had begun to unpack her trunk, and to mechanically put her things away, "they're not so bad."
"And where is all this wealth?" said Christie, forcing herself to smile at her sister's animation.
"I suppose that is why they don't brush their boots and trousers, it's so precious," returned Christie drily.
An impatient sigh from Christie drew Jessie's attention to her troubled eyebrows.
"It strikes me that he is sharing with them already," said Christie, glancing bitterly round the cabin; "sharing everything-- ourselves, our lives, our tastes."
The appearance of these relics of wild dissipation, however, had lifted Christie out of her sublime resignation.
To make sure, they each began to scrimmage; the broken-spirited Christie exhibiting both alacrity and penetration in searching obscure corners.
"It's just as well you shouldn't," said Christie shortly, whose ideas of a general classical impropriety had been gathered from pages of Lempriere's dictionary.
"Oh, Christie! here are some letters tied up with a ribbon."
