For the first time in her life Christopher (unconsciously on his part) made a direct appeal to her pity, and her heart responded to the appeal.

His perspective, from her point of view, was suddenly changed; he was no longer the kindly, easy-going comrade with whom she had laughed and quarrelled and made it up again ever since she could remember, and with whom she was on a footing of such familiar intimacy; instead, he had become a man standing in the shadow of a great sorrow, whose solitary grief commanded her respect and at the same time claimed her tenderness.

All through breakfast, and the prayers which followed, Elisabeth's thoughts ran on this new Christopher, who was so much more interesting and yet so much farther off than the old one.

She wondered how he would look and what he would say when next she saw him; and she longed to see him again, and yet felt frightened at the thought of doing so.

At prayers that morning Miss Farringdon read the lament of David over Saul and Jonathan; and while the words of undying pathos sounded in her ears, Elisabeth wondered whether Christopher would mourn as David did if his uncle were to die, and whether he would let her comfort him.
When prayers were over, Miss Farringdon bade Elisabeth accompany her to Mr.Smallwood's; and all the way there the girl's heart was beating so fast that it almost choked her, with mingled fear of and tenderness for this new Christopher who had taken the place of her old playmate.