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Father was very angry indeed, and Chris was sent to bed, and not allowed to go down to dessert; and Lady Catherine was dining at our house, so he missed her.

Next time she called, and saw Chris, she asked him why he had not been at dessert that night. Mother looked at Chris, and said “Why was it Chris? Tell Aunt Catherine.” Mother thought he would say “Because I tore my pinafore, and made a noise in the front hall.” But he smiled, the grave way Chris does, and said, “Because Father came home cross.” And Lady Catherine was pleased, but Mother was vexed.

I am quite sure Chris meant no harm, but he does say very funny things. Perhaps it is because his head is rather large for his body, with some water having got into his brain when he was very little, so that we have to take great care of him. And though he does say very odd things, very slowly, I do not think any one of us tries harder to be good.

I remember once Mother had been trying to make us forgive each other’s trespasses, and Arthur would say that you cannot make yourself feel kindly to them that trespass against you; and Mother said if you make yourself do right, then at last you get to feel right; and it was very soon after this that Harry and Christopher quarrelled, and would not forgive each other’s trespasses in the least, in spite of all that I could do to try and make peace between them.

Chris went off in the sulks, but after a long time I came upon him in the toy-cupboard, looking rather pale and very large-headed, and winding up his new American top, and talking to himself.

When he talks to himself he mutters, so I could only just hear what he was saying, and he said it over and over again:

“Dos first and feels afterwards.”

“What are you doing, Chris?” I asked.

“I’m getting ready my new top to give to Harry. Dos first and feels afterwards.”

“Well,” I said, “Christopher, you are a good boy.”

“I should like to punch his head,” said Chris–and he said it in just the same sing-song tone–“but I’m getting the top ready. Dos first and feels afterwards.”

And he went on winding and muttering.

Afterwards he told me that the “feels” came sooner than he expected. Harry wouldn’t take his top, and they made up their quarrel.

Christopher is very simple, but sometimes we think he is also a little sly. He can make very wily excuses about things he does not like.

He does not like Nurse to hold back his head and wash his face; and at last one day she let him go downstairs with a dirty face, and then complained to Mother. So Mother asked Chris why he was so naughty about having his face washed, and he said, quite gravely, “I do think it would be such pity if the water got into my head again by accident.” Mother did not know he had ever heard about it, but she said, “Oh, Chris! Chris! that’s one of your excuses.” And he said, “It’s not my ‘scusis. She lets a good deal get in–at my ears–and lather too.”

But, with all his whimsical ways, Lady Catherine is devoted to Christopher. She likes him far better than any one of us, and he is very fond of her; and they say quite rude things to each other all along. And Father says it is very lucky, for if she had not been so fond of Chris, and so ready to take him too, Mother would never have been persuaded to leave us when Aunt Catherine took them to the South of France.

Mother had been very unwell for a long time. She has so many worries, and Dr. Solomon said she ought to avoid worry, and Aunt Catherine said worries were killing her, and Father said “Pshaw!” and Aunt Catherine said “Care killed the cat,” and that a cat has nine lives, and a woman has only one; and then Mother got worse, and Aunt Catherine wanted to take her abroad, and she wouldn’t go; and then Christopher was ill, and Aunt Catherine said she would take him too, if only Mother would go with her; and Dr. Solomon said it might be the turning-point of his health, and Father said, “the turning-point which way?” but he thanked Lady Catherine, and they didn’t quarrel; and so Mother yielded, and it was settled that they should go.