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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/28544-8.txt b/28544-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..539ce4a --- /dev/null +++ b/28544-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19917 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Say and Seal, Volume I, by Susan Warner and Anna Warner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Say and Seal, Volume I + +Author: Susan Warner + Anna Warner + +Release Date: April 8, 2009 [EBook #28544] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAY AND SEAL, VOLUME I *** + + + + +Produced by Daniel Fromont + + + + + + + + + +[Transcriber's note: Susan Warner (1819-1885) & Anna Warner +(1824-1915), _Say and seal_(1860), Tauchnitz edition 1860 volume 1] + + + + + + +COLLECTION + +OF + +BRITISH AUTHORS + + + +VOL. CCCXCVIII. + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + + + +IN TWO VOLUMES. + + + +VOL. I. + + + + + +"If any man make religion as twelve, and the world as thirteen, such a +one hath not the spirit of a true New England man." + +HIGGINSON. + + + + + +PREFACE. + + + +It is a melancholy fact, that this book is somewhat larger than the +mould into which most of the fluid fiction material is poured in this +degenerate age. You perceive, good reader, that it has run over--in the +latest volume. + +Doubtless the Procrustean critic would say, "Cut it off,"--which point +we waive. + +The book is really of very moderate limits--considering that two women +had to have their say in it. + +It is pleasant to wear a glove when one shakes hands with the Public; +therefore we still use our ancestors' names instead of our own,--but it +is fair to state, that in this case there are a pair of gloves!--Which +is the right glove, and which the left, the Public will never know. + +A word to that "dear delightful" class of readers who believe +everything that is written, and do not look at the number of the last +page till they come to it--nor perhaps even then. Well they and the +author know, that if the heroine cries--or laughs--too much, it is +nobody's fault but her own! Gently they quarrel with him for not +permitting them to see every Jenny happily married and every Tom with +settled good habits. Most lenient readers!--when you turn publishers, +then will such books doubtless be written! Meantime, hear this. + +In a shady, sunshiny town, lying within certain bounds--geographical or +imaginary,--these events (really or in imagination) occurred. Precisely +when, the chroniclers do not say. Scene opens with the breezes which +June, and the coming of a new school teacher, naturally create. After +the fashion of the place, his lodgings are arranged for him beforehand, +by the School Committee. But where, or in what circumstances, the scene +may close,--having told at the end of the book, we do not incline to +tell at the beginning. + + + +ELIZABETH WETHERELL. + +AMY LOTHROP. + + + +NEW YORK, _Feb. 1, 1860_. + + + + + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + + + +BY + +THE AUTHOR OF "WIDE WIDE WORLD," + +AND + +THE AUTHOR OF "DOLLARS AND CENTS." + + + +_COPYRIGHT EDITION_. + + + +IN TWO VOLUMES. + + + +VOL. I. + + + +LEIPZIG + +BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ + +1860. + + + + + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + +VOL. I. + + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +The street was broad, with sidewalks, and wide grass-grown borders, and +a spacious track of wheels and horses' feet in the centre. Great elms, +which the early settlers planted, waved their pendant branches over the +peaceful highway, and gave shelter and nest-room to numerous orioles, +killdeer, and robins; putting off their yellow leaves in the autumn, +and bearing their winter weight of snow, in seeming quiet assurance +that spring would make amends for all. So slept the early settlers in +the churchyard! + + +Along the street, at pleasant neighbourly intervals--not near enough to +be crowded, nor far enough to be lonely--stood the +houses,--comfortable, spacious, compact,--"with no nonsense about +them." The Mong lay like a mere blue thread in the distance, its course +often pointed out by the gaff of some little sloop that followed the +bends of the river up toward Suckiaug. The low rolling shore was +spotted with towns and spires: over all was spread the fairest blue sky +and floating specks of white. + +Not many sounds were astir,--the robins whistled, thief-like, over the +cherry-trees; the killdeer, from some high twig, sent forth his sweet +clear note; and now and then a pair of wheels rolled softly along the +smooth road: the rush of the wind filled up the pauses. Anybody who was +down by the Mong might have heard the soft roll of his blue +waters,--any one by the light-house might have heard the harsher dash +of the salt waves. + +I might go on, and say that if anybody had been looking out of Mrs. +Derrick's window he or she might have seen--what Mrs. Derrick really +saw! For she was looking out of the window (or rather through the +blind) at the critical moment that afternoon. It would be too much to +say that she placed herself there on purpose,--let the reader suppose +what he likes. + +At the time, then, that the village clock was striking four, when +meditative cows were examining the length of their shadows, and all the +geese were setting forth for their afternoon swim, a stranger opened +Mrs. Derrick's little gate and walked in. Stretching out one hand to +the dog in token of good fellowship, (a classical mind might have +fancied him breaking the cake by whose help Quickear got past the +lions,) he went up the walk, neither fast nor slow, ascended the steps, +and gave what Mrs. Derrick called "considerable of a rap" at the door. +That done, he faced about and looked at the far off blue Mong. + +Not more intently did he eye and read that fair river; not more swiftly +did his thoughts pass from the Mong to things beyond human ken; than +Mrs. Derrick eyed and read--his back, and suffered her ideas to roam +into the far off regions of speculation. The light summer coat, the +straw hat, were nothing uncommon; but the silk umbrella was too good +for the coat--the gloves and boots altogether extravagant! + +"He ain't a bit like the Pattaquasset folks, Faith," she said, in a +whisper thrown over her shoulder to her daughter. + +"Mother--" + +Mrs. Derrick replied by an inarticulate sound of interrogation. + +"I wish you wouldn't stand just there. Do come away!" + +"La, child," said Mrs. Derrick, moving back about half an inch, "he's +looking off into space." + +"But he'll be in.--" + +"Not till somebody goes to the door," said Mrs. Derrick, "and there's +not a living soul in the house but us two." + +"Why didn't you say so before? Must I go, mother?" + +"He didn't seem in a hurry," said her mother,--"and I wasn't. Yes, you +can go if you like, child--and if you don't like, I'll go." + +With a somewhat slower step than usual, with a slight hesitating touch +of her hand to the smooth brown hair which lay over her temples, Miss +Faith moved through the hall to the front door, gently opened it, and +stood there, in the midst of the doorway, fronting the stranger. By no +means an uncomely picture for the frame; for the face was good, the +figure trim, and not only was the rich hair smooth, but a little white +ruffle gave a dainty setting to the throat and chin which rose above +it, both themselves rather on the dainty order. + +I say fronting the stranger,--yet to speak truth the stranger was not +fronting her. For having made one more loud appeal to the knocker, +having taken off his hat, the better to feel the soft river breeze, he +stood as before "looking off into space;" but with one hand resting +more decidedly upon the silk umbrella. + +Faith took a minute's view of decidedly pleasant outlines of shoulders +and head--or what she thought such--glanced at the hand which grasped +the umbrella handle,--and then lifting her own fingers to the knocker +of the door, caused it gently to rise and fall. + +A somewhat long breath escaped the stranger--as if the sound chimed in +with his thoughts--nothing more. + +Faith stood still and waited. + +Perhaps that last sound of the knocker had by degrees asserted its +claim to reality; perhaps impatience began to assert _its_ claim; +perhaps that long elm-tree shadow which was creeping softly on, even to +his very feet, broke in upon the muser's vision. Certainly he turned +with a very quick motion towards the door, and a gesture of the hand +which said that this time the knocker should speak out. The door +however stood open,--the knocker beyond his reach; and Miss Faith so +nearly within it, that he dropped his hand even quicker than he had +raised it. + +"I beg your pardon!" he said, with a grave inclination of the head. "I +believe I knocked." + +"Yes, sir--I thought you had forgotten," said Faith; not with perfect +demureness, which she would like to have achieved. "Will you please to +come in?" And somewhat regardless of consequences, leaving the hall +door where it stood, Faith preceded her guest along the hall and again +performed for him the office of door-opener at the parlour, ushering +him thus into the presence of her mother. + +Mrs. Derrick was seated in the rocking-chair, at the furthest corner +from the window, and perfectly engrossed with the last monthly +magazine. But she came out of them all with wonderful ease and +promptness, shook hands very cordially with the new comer, seated him +in her corner and chair before he could make much resistance, and would +also have plunged him into the magazine--but there he was firm. + +"If you would only make yourself comfortable while I see where your +baggage is?" said the good lady. + +"But I can tell you where it is, ma'am," said he looking up at +her,--"it is at the station, and will be here in half an hour." + +"Well when did you have dinner?" said Mrs. Derrick, resolved upon doing +something. + +"Yesterday," was his quiet reply. "To-day I have been in the cars." + +"O my! my!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"then of course we'll have tea at once. +Faith!" + +"I'm here, mother. I'll go and see to it, right away." + +But in some mysterious manner the stranger reached the doorway before +either of the ladies. + +"Mrs. Derrick--Miss Faith--I told you that I had had no dinner, and +that was true. It is also true that I am in not the least hurry for +tea. Please do not have it until your usual time." And he walked back +to his seat. + +But after the slightest possible pause of hesitancy, Faith had +disappeared. Her mother followed her. + +"Child," she said, "what on earth is his name?" + +"Mother! how should I know? I didn't ask him." + +"But the thing is," said Mrs. Derrick, "I _did_ know,--the Committee +told me all about it. And of course he thinks I know, and I don't--no +more than I do my great-grandmother's name, which I never did remember +yet." + +"Mother--shall I go and ask him?--or wait till after supper?" + +"O you sha'n't go," said her mother. "Wait till after supper and we'll +send Cindy. He won't care about his name till he gets his tea, I'll +warrant. But what made you so long getting the door open, child? Does +it stick?" + +"Why," said Faith, baring her arms and entering upon sundry quick +movements about the room, "it _was_ open and he didn't know it." + +"Didn't know it!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"my! I hope he ain't +short-sighted. Now Faith, I'm not going to have you burn your face for +all the school teachers in Connecticut. Keep away, child, I'll put on +the kettle myself. Cindy must have found her beau again--it's as +tiresome as tiresome can be." + +"It's just as well, mother; I'd rather do it myself. Now you go in and +find what his name is, and I'll have everything together directly. The +oven's hot now." + +"I'll go in presently," said Mrs. Derrick; "but as to asking him what +his name is--la, child, I'd just as soon ask him where he came from." +And in deep thought on the subject, Mrs. Derrick stepped briskly about +the kitchen. + +"Faith," she said, "where shall I ask him to sit?" + +"Will you pour out tea--or shall I, mother?" + +"What's that to do?" + +"Why I was thinking--but it don't matter where you put him. There's +four sides to the table." + +"Don't talk of my putting him anywhere, child--I'm as afraid of him as +can be." And Mrs. Derrick went back to see how time went with her guest. + +It went fast or slow, I suppose, after all, somewhat according to the +state of his appetite. One hour and ten minutes certainly had slipped +away--if he was hungry he knew that another ten minutes was following +in train--when at length the parlour door opened again and Faith stood +there, with a white apron on and cheeks a good deal heightened in +colour since the date of their last appearance. + +"Mother, tea's ready. Cindy hasn't got back." And having made this +gentle announcement, Faith disappeared again, leaving it to her mother +to shew the way to the supper-room. + +This was back of the parlour and communicated with the kitchen, from +which Faith came in as they entered, bearing a plate of white biscuits, +smoking hot, in her hand. The floor was painted with thick yellow +paint, smooth and shining; plenty of windows let in plenty of light and +the sweet evening air; the table stood covered with a clean brownish +table-cloth,--but what a supper covered that! Rosy slices of boiled +ham, snowy rounds of 'milk emptyings', bread, strawberries, +pot-cheeses, pickles, fried potatoes, and Faith's white cakes, with tea +and coffee! + +Now as Faith had laid the clean napkin for the stranger at the foot of +the table, opposite her mother, it cannot be thought presumption in him +that he at once took his seat there; thus relieving Mrs. Derrick's mind +of an immense responsibility. Yet something in his manner then made her +pause and look at him, though she did not expect to see him bow his +head and ask for a blessing on the meal before them. If that was +presumption, neither of his hearers felt it so,--the little flush on +the mother's cheek told rather of emotion, of some old memory now +quickened into life. Her voice even trembled a little as she said,-- + +"Will you have tea or coffee, sir?" + +And Faith offered her biscuit. + +"Or there's bread, if you like it better, sir." + +"The biscuits are best," said her mother,--"Faith's biscuits are always +good." + +And he took a biscuit, while a very slight unbending of the lines of +his face said that the excellence of Faith's handiwork was at least not +always so apparent. + +"Miss Faith, what shall I give you in return that is beyond your reach +and (comparatively) within mine?" + +Possibly--possibly, the slight grave opening of two rather dark eyes +confessed that in her apprehension the store thus designated, from +which he might give her, was very large indeed. But if that was so, her +lips came short of the truth, for she answered,-- + +"I don't want anything, thank you." + +"Not even butter?"--with his hand on the knife. + +Faith seemed inclined not to want butter, but finally submitted and +held out her plate. Whereupon, having helped her and himself, the +stranger diverged a little, with the rather startling question, + +"What sort of a Flora have you in this neighbourhood?" + +"There isn't any, mother?" said Faith, with a doubtful appeal towards +the tea-tray. + +A pleasant look fell upon her while her look went away--a look which +said he would like to tell her all about the matter, then and there; +but merely taking another of the white biscuits, he went on to ask +whether the roads were good and the views fine. + +"The roads are first-rate," said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't know much of +views myself, but Faith thinks they're wonderful." + +"I don't suppose they are _wonderful_," said Faith; "but it is pretty +up the Mong, and I am sure, mother, it's pretty down on the shore +towards the sunsetting." + +"And how is it towards the sunrising?" + +"I never saw it--we never go down there then," Faith said, with a very +frank smile. + +"Faith always stays by me," said Mrs. Derrick; "if I can t go, she +won't. And of course I never can at that time of day. It's quite a way +down to the shore." + +"What shore?" + +"It's the sea-shore--that is, not the real sea-shore--it's only the +Sound," said Faith; "but there is the salt-water, and it is as good as +the sea." + +"How far off?" said the stranger, bestowing upon Faith a saucer of +strawberries. + +Faith would have asked him to help himself, but taking notice mentally +that he was extremely likely to do so, she contented herself with +replying, "It's about two miles." + +"And what are some of the 'good' things there?" + +"Perhaps you wouldn't think it much," said Faith modestly;--"but the +water is pretty, and I like to see the ships and vessels on it going up +and down; and the points of the shore and the wet stones look such +beautiful colours when the sun is near set." + +"I like stones--whether wet or dry," said her questioner. + +"Most people here don't like them," said Faith. "But there are plenty +down by the sea-shore.--And plenty on the farm too," she added. + +"Ah, people like and dislike things for very different reasons, Miss +Faith," he answered; "so perhaps your neighbours and I are not so far +apart in our opinions as you may think. Only I believe, that while +there is 'a time to cast away stones,' there is also 'a time to gather +stones together'--and therein perhaps they would not agree with me." + +Faith looked up, and her lips parted--and if the thought had been +spoken which parted them, it would probably have been a confession that +she did not understand, or a request for more light. But if her face +did not say it for her she did not say it for herself. + +If anybody could have seen Mrs. Derrick's face while these little +sentences went back and forth, he would have acknowledged it was worth +the sight. Her awe and admiration of every word uttered by the +stranger--the intense interest with which she waited for every word +spoken by Faith--the slight look of anxiety changing to one of perfect +satisfaction,--was pretty to see. + +"Faith," she said when tea was over, and her guest had walked to the +front door to take another look at 'space,' "Faith, don't you think he +liked his supper?" + +"I should think he would--after having no dinner," said Faith. + +"But it was such a mercy, child, that you hadn't gone out to supper +anywhere--I can't think what I should have done. There's Cindy this +minute!--run and tell her to go right away and find out what his name +is--tell her I want to know,--you can put it in good words." + +"Mother!--I'd rather ask him myself." + +But that did not suit Mrs. Derrick's ideas of propriety. And stepping +out into the kitchen she despatched Cindy on her errand. Cindy +presently came back from the front door, and went into the dining-room, +but not finding Mrs. Derrick she handed a card to Faith. + +"It's easy done," said Cindy. "I just asked him if he'd any objections +towards tellin' his name--and he kinder opened his eyes at me and said +no. Then I said, says I, Mis' Derrick do know, and she'd like ter. +'Miss Derrick!' says he--and he took out his pencil and writ that. But +I'd like to know _what_ he cleans his pencil with," said Cindy in +conclusion, "for I'm free to confess I never see brass shine so in my +born days." + +Faith took the card and read,-- + + JOHN ENDECOTT LINDEN. + + +She looked a little curiously at the pencilling, at the formation of +the capitals and of the small letters; then laid it down and gave her +attention to the dishes of the supper-table. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + +The next day was Saturday. The morning opened with grey clouds, +covering the sky, but which were light and light-broken and promised to +roll away entirely as soon as the sun should reach a commanding +position in the heavens. The sun however was still quite distant from +such a position, in fact was not much more than an hour high, when +Lucinda, who was sweeping the front door steps, was hailed from the +front door by a person not one of the party of the preceding evening, +and very unlike either of them. It was a lady, not young, of somewhat +small figure, trim, and nicely dressed. Indeed she was rather +handsomely dressed and in somewhat French taste; she had showy gold +earrings in her ears, and a head much more in the mode than either Mrs. +Derrick's or her daughter's. The face of this lady was plain, +decidedly; but redeemed by a look of sense and shrewdness altogether +unmixed with ill nature. The voice spoke alert and pleasantly. + +"So Lucindy, you had company last night, didn't you?" + +"May be we did and may be we didn't," said Lucindy, brushing away with +great energy at an imaginary bit of lint at the end of the upper step. +"I do' know but we'd just as good call him one of the family." + +"So much at home already? I missed seeing him last night--I couldn't +get home. What's he like, Cindy? and what has he done?" + +"Done?" said Cindy--"well he's went out a'most afore I was up. And as +to like, Miss Dilly--just you look at him when he comes in. He looks +some like folks, and yet he don't, neither." + +"He's out, is he?" + +"Yes," said Cindy, reducing a large family of spiders to temporary +starvation and despair,--"he's out--if he ain't gone in nowheres. Miss +Dilly, if you'll stand just inside the door I can wash the steps just +as well. + +"What's the gentleman out so early for? Maybe he's missed some of his +luggage, Cindy." + +"Hope he ha'n't got no more--without its lighter," said Cindy. +"However, he carried it upstairs himself, I'm free to confess. I guess +'twarn't for luggage he went out, 'cause he asked about breakfast time, +special." + +"If he means to be out till then he'll have a good walk of it." + +It wanted five minutes of breakfast time, and Mrs. Derrick--what with +stepping into the kitchen to oversee Cindy, and stepping to the front +window to oversee the street--was warm enough for a cooler morning. + +"Faith," she said, referring as usual to her daughter, "Faith--what +shall we do if he don't come?" + +"I guess he'll come, mother;--he knows the time. The things won't hurt +much by waiting a little." + +As she spoke, the little front gate swung softly to, and the person in +question came leisurely up the steps and into the hall. Then having +just glanced into the parlour, he at once--with a promptitude which +bespoke him too punctual himself to doubt the punctuality of +others--advanced to the dining-room door and walked in. + +Mrs. Derrick's face shewed gratification mingled with her good nature. +Faith smiled; and Miss Dilly was duly introduced as Miss Delia +Danforth, Mrs. Derrick's aunt, then on a visit at Pattaquasset. + +"You've taken an early stroll this morning, sir," said this last lady. +"View the country?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden, "I have been viewing the town." + +"Ah! Well I call that viewing the country. Town and country, all's one +here; and it makes a very pleasant sort of place. But what do you call +the _town_, sir?--Do you drink coffee?" + +"The town," said Mr. Linden, in answer to the first question--receiving +his coffee-cup from Mrs. Derrick by way of answer to the +second,--"means in this instance, Miss Danforth, that spot of country +which is most thickly settled. Yes, ma'am--I drink coffee." + +"Very bad for you, sir; don't you know it?" + +"Bad for me as one of the human race? or as an individual specially +marked out not to drink it?" + +"Dear me!" said Miss Danforth sipping her own tea--"I don't know what +you are 'marked out' for. I think it's a mistake for everybody to think +he is 'marked' for something special--they set the mark themselves, and +generally it don't fit." + +"But the fact that a man often gets the wrong mark, by no means proves +that there is no right one which belongs to him," said Mr. Linden, +looking gravely at Faith as if he meant she should smile. + +Faith seemed to look at the question however rather seriously, for +dropping her knife and fork she asked, + +"How shall a man know his mark?" + +"By earnest consideration and prayer," he answered, really grave this +time. "I know of no other way, Miss Faith." + +What a remark that was! it silenced the whole table. Knives and forks +and spoons had it alone, with only words of necessity; till Faith asked +Mr. Linden if he would not have another cup of coffee. + +"Certainly!" he said handing her his cup. "There is so much to be said +on both sides of that little bit of china--I must not be partial in my +attention." + +"But you can't study both sides of a subject at once," said the +coffee-hater. + +"Then take them alternately--and (figuratively) walk round your +coffee-cup, surveying its fair proportions from different points of +view. If the coffee is strong and you are nervous--that's one thing. +Again, if the coffee be weak and you be phlegmatic--that's another." + +"The coffee's not strong to-day," said Mrs. Derrick with a regretful +shake of the head. + +"Nor am I phlegmatic,"--with the slightest possible indication of a +smile. + +"Do you think," said Miss Danforth, "a man is better able to decide +questions of common judgment for having studied a great deal?--learned +a great many things, I mean." + +"That depends very much upon what effect his studies have had upon his +judgment. Mrs. Derrick--are you trying to break me off from coffee by +degrees? this cup has no sugar in it." + +"O my!" said Mrs. Derrick, colouring up in the greatest confusion. "I +do beg your pardon, sir! Faith, take the sugar-bowl, child, and pick +out some large lumps." + +"You will get more praise from Miss Danforth than blame from me, +ma'am," said Mr. Linden, submitting his cup to Faith's amendment and +watching the operation. + +"_I_ don't know," said Miss Danforth goodhumouredly. "Maybe he can +stand it.--If he takes two cups I should say he can. How do you like +the profession of teaching, sir?" + +Now to say truth, Mr. Linden did not know--not by actual practice, but +it was also a truth which he did not feel bound to disclose. He +therefore stirred his coffee with a good deal of deliberation, and even +tasted it, before he replied, + +"What would you say to me, Miss Danforth, if I professed to be fond of +teaching some people some things? Miss Faith, that last lump of sugar +was potent." + +"What sort of people, and what sort of things, for instance?" said the +lady. + +"The things I know best, and the people who think they know least--for +instance," he replied. + +"I should say you know definitions," was Miss Danforth's again +goodhumoured rejoinder. + +"What did you say was the matter with the sugar, sir?" said Faith. + +"I said it was potent, Miss Faith,--or I might have said, powerful. But +indeed it was not the sugar's fault--the difficulty was, there was not +enough coffee to counterbalance it." + +"I put in too much!" said Faith, making a regretful translation of this +polite speech. + +"Yes"--said Mr. Linden with great solemnity as he set down the empty +cup,--"but too much sugar is at least not a common misfortune. With +what appreciation I shall look back to this, some day when I have not +enough! What did you think of the sunrise this morning?" + +"Do you mean, because the sky was covered with clouds?" said Faith. +"But there was enough--the sun looked through; and the colours were +beautiful. Did you see them?" + +"I wonder when you did, child?" said Miss Danforth;--"up to your elbows +in butter!" + +"Yes, I saw them. Then you are true to your name, Miss Faith, and find +'enough' in a cloudy sky?--Pray, Miss Danforth, what depth of butter +does a churning yield in this region?" + +"I guess," said Miss Danforth laughing, "you never saw much of farmer's +work--did you?" + +"Is butter-making farmer's work?" said Mr. Linden with a face of grave +inquiry. + +"Here's the trustys"--said Cindy opening the door; "at least that's +what they said they be, but I'm free to confess 'tain't nobody but +Squire Deacon and Parson Somers." + +"Do they want me?" said Mr. Linden looking round. + +"I guess likely"--said Cindy. "The Squire does come here to see Miss +Faith, but I guess 'tain't her he wants this time." + +And Cindy vanished. + +"What do the trustees want?" said Miss Danforth. + +"Upon the testimony of Cinderella, they want me," said Mr. Linden. +"Miss Faith, may I have a glass of water?--What they want to do with +me, Miss Danforth, is a little uncertain." + +"Well," said Miss Danforth, "I think you'll be able to prevent them!" + +He rose to take the glass from Faith's hand, and then merely inquiring +whether the ladies were coming to second him, left the room. + +Parson Somers was a young-looking, good-looking, affable gentleman, who +pressed the ladies' hands very cordially and was very happy to see +them. Squire Deacon was younger, and likewise good looking, but +affability he had never been charged with. Over the handsome cut of +face, the strong well-built figure, he wore a manner as rough as a +bear's great-coat; only at some times and for some people the roughness +was brushed down. It never would stay, any more than the various +elegant phrases with which Deacon sometimes seasoned his speech, would +take root there and spread. + +"Quite an agreeable variation," said Mr. Somers,--"ha--in such a place +as Pattaquasset--to have a new arrival among us. Mr. Linden--I hope you +will like our little town. You have a pleasant experience of us to +begin with." + +"Yes but, Parson, don't make him think we're all like some," said +Squire Deacon,--and as he turned towards Faith the beaming of his face +seemed almost reflected in his brass buttons. "Dreadful gloomy morning, +Miss Faith!" + +"Mr. Linden has probably seen too much of the world," said Mr. +Somers,--"not to know that--ha!--too great a preponderance of good is +not to be looked for." + +"May as well look for as much as you can find," said Miss Danforth. "A +good deal's lost by not looking for it." + +"Ah," said the Squire, with another glance at Faith, "it's not so hard +to find things, neither, Miss Danforth. You remember Sinbad the sailor +lookin' down into the vale of diamonds?" + +"Don't remember him a bit. What did he see there?" + +"Nothin' _but_ diamond jewellery," said Squire Deacon in a sentimental +tone. "Miss Faith, you doubtless recollect the tale?" + +"I hope," said Mr. Somers,--"ha!--friend Deacon--you don't mean that +Mr. Linden should look for a valley of diamonds in Pattaquasset?" + +"Whereabouts does the valley lie, sir?" said Mr. Linden. + +But the Squire, as if a new idea had struck him, replied somewhat +brusquely, + +"It don't lie nowheres, sir, nowheres but in fancy's field." + +"I suppose," said Mr. Somers smiling blandly, "Mr. Linden's peculiar +course of business don't lead him much into that field." + +"You can strike into it 'most anywhere," said Miss Danforth. "Mr. +Linden's an early man--he'll find the valley of diamonds, if it's in +the town." + +"Miss Faith told me there were stones enough here," he said, "but she +did not hint that any of them were precious." + +"We shall expect," said Mr. Somers, "to see some of our stones--I mean, +some of our hard heads and thick heads--grow precious, +or--a--improve!--under Mr. Linden's management." + +"Pray sir," said Squire Deacon, suddenly recollecting that he was a +'trusty,' "what do you consider the best plan for the instruction of +youth? what is your method?" + +Mr. Linden looked contemplatively out of the window. + +"I think sir, if the boys are very rough I should first teach them +manners. If they are smoother boys, I should teach them spelling,--if +they have already learned spelling, I should let them read." + +The Squire bowed. + +"Quite satisfactory, sir. Mr. Somers--I think perhaps Mr. Linden would +like to visit our little temple of litteratur." + +"I should be very gratified to accompany Mr. Linden in viewing so much +of Pattaquasset. I trust, Mr. Linden, that the highest--ha--the moral +and religious teaching, of the youth here, will not be quite overlooked +in your system." + +The reply that first rose to Mr. Linden's lips came not forth. He +checked himself--rather perhaps in deference to the subject than +anything else, and simply answered, + +"I trust not, sir." + +And with many low bows from the Squire, the two gentlemen went into the +hall, Mr. Linden following. But he came back the next moment to ask the +dinner hour. + +"We are as apt to have it at noon as any time," said Faith. "Will that +do, Mr. Linden? we could have it later." + +"That will do perfectly. Only if the 'temple of literature' opens and +swallows me up, Miss Faith, don't wait--that's all." + +And with a smile that was a strong contrast to the face he had bestowed +upon the trustees, he went after them. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + +Monday morning came, with its hands full of work. They were willing +hands that were outstretched to receive the load,--strong hands too, +and skilful; but it may be, better suited to other work. Certainly as +the days passed Endecott's gravity took a deeper tinge, and his words +became fewer. Still maintaining his morning walk, and a like tasting of +the air at night,--ever punctual at meals, and when there displaying an +unruffled equanimity and cheerfulness,--the even tones of his voice +shewed sometimes a little weariness, and his step grew more thoughtful. +And so the week rolled on, and the afternoon sun of Friday began to +near the horizon. + +It was a warm afternoon, soft and balmy; a little haze on the sky, the +least veil upon the Mong's further shore; the summer roses hanging +their heads, heavy with sleep and sweetness. The honeysuckles on the +porch grew sweeter and sweeter as the sun went down, and the +humming-birds dipped into those long flagons, or poised them selves in +mid-air for a survey. + +In the porch sat the three ladies. Each had been busy, and now each +laid down her work, obedient to unseen influences. The warm breeze was +softly rubbing Faith's cheek with its rouging fingers, and her mother +gazed--nor could give one look to humming-birds or roses. + +Her thoughts however, took greater range--or the low chiming of the +village clock sent them off; for she presently said, + +"Faith, my dear, what have we got for tea?"--that meal being under +Faith's special superintendence. + +"Very good blackberries, mother, and beautiful raspberries; and I cut +my cream-cheese; and Cindy is ready to bake the bannocks. Butter's as +sweet as it can be, this churning. Will that do?--Mr. Linden likes +raspberries and cream," she added a little lower. + +Mrs. Derrick gave a comprehensive "Yes, child," to both parts of +Faith's reply, and then stopped and looked away up the street. For down +the street at that moment came Mr. Linden, walking leisurely, his head +bent towards one of his older scholars who had both hands clasped round +his arm. The boy's upraised eager face shewed even at a distance how +earnestly he was talking. + +"There he comes!" said Miss Danforth. + +"Who is that with him?" said Faith. + +"Reuben Taylor, child," her mother answered. + +Then as they came near the gate, and stopped and shook hands, Reuben +cried out (in answer to words which they did not hear) + +"Let _me_ go! do, please, Mr. Linden!"--and went; while his teacher +opened the gate, picked one of the drooping roses, came up the steps +and taking off his hat bowed to the assembled ladies. + +"Well, Mr. Linden," said Miss Danforth, "how do you find the +Pattaquasset diamonds?" + +"I find, madam, that they shine--as is the custom of diamonds." + +"Are you going to let Reuben Taylor go?" + +"Whither?" said Mr. Linden. + +"Why, where he asked you. Is _he_ one of Mr. Somers' precious stones?" + +"He has gone," was the smiling reply. "Precious?--yes,--everybody is +precious in one sense." + +"You haven't been to college for nothing," said Miss Danforth, who +would talk about anything. "I should like you to find out in what sense +_I_ am precious. I've a good many friends--but there isn't one of 'em +that wouldn't eat and drink just as well with me out of the world as in +it." + +He smiled a little--though rather soberly, and stood watching the +changing colours of clouds and sky for a minute or two without +speaking. Then, half to himself as it were, low but very distinctly, he +repeated-- + +"'And they shall be mine, saith the Lord, in the day when I make up my +jewels.'" + +The answer to this was only in pantomime, but striking. Miss Danforth +did not speak, and instead thereof turned her head over her shoulder +and looked away steadily over the meadows which stretched north of the +house into the distance. Faith's eyes fell to the floor and the lids +drooped over them; and as plain a veil of shadow fell upon her face. +Mrs. Derrick's eyes went from one to the other with a look which was +not unwonted with her, and a little sigh which said she thought +everybody was good but herself. + +"Bain't ye never comin' in to supper?" said Cindy, framing herself in +the doorway. "I want to get out after supper, Miss Faith," she said +dropping her voice,--"I do, real bad." + +"Is all ready, Cindy?" + +"Yes marm," said Cindy. "I'm free to confess there's a pile o' cakes +baked." + +"Miss Faith, when do you mean to shew me the shore?" said Mr. Linden +turning round. + +"You have been so busy all the week," said Faith,--"and then you didn't +speak of it, Mr. Linden--I can go any time." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Derrick, "there comes Squire Deacon. Maybe he'll +stay to supper. I'll go and put on another cup." + +Mr. Linden gave one glance at the opening gate, and followed Mrs. +Derrick into the house. + +"Miss Faith," said the Squire, "do you think the night dews conducive +to--to your comfort?" + +"When they are falling," said Faith abstractedly. "Why not, Mr. Deacon?" + +"To be sure!" said the Squire gallantly,--"honeysuckles and such things +do. But what I mean is this. Cilly's goin' to get up a great shore +party to-morrow, and she says she couldn't touch a mouthful down there +if you didn't go. And like enough some other folks couldn't neither." + +"Mother's gone in to tea. Will you come in and ask her, Squire?" + +"Couldn't stay, Miss Faith--Cilly's lookin' out for me now. But you can +tell--your mother'll go if you do,--or you can go if she don't, you and +Miss Danforth. It's good for you now, Miss Faith,--the saline breezes +are so very--different," said the Squire. + +"When are you going, Mr. Deacon?" + +"Soon as we can tackle up after dinner, Cilly thought. But fix your own +time, Miss Faith--I'll call for you any hour of the twenty-six." + +Faith hesitated, and pulled a leaf or two from the honeysuckle; then +she spoke boldly. + +"But you forget we have a gentleman here, Squire;--we can't go without +Mr. Linden." + +"I don't want his help to drive my horse," said the Squire, with a +little change of tone,--"but whoever hinders his going, _I_ don't. The +shore's wide, Miss Faith,--it don't matter how many gets onto it. +There's no chance but he'll go if you ask him. Who wouldn't!" said the +Squire, relapsing into his former self. + +"We'll come down then some time in the course of the afternoon," said +Faith, "and see what you are doing." + +"Then I sha'n't drive you down, sha'n't I?" said Squire Deacon. "Never +mind--it's no matter,--come when you like, Miss Faith, we'll be glad to +see you, anyhow." And the Squire closed the little gate after him +energetically. + +"Cinderella is in despair, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden as Faith +entered the dining-room. "Miss Danforth--how could you keep Squire +Deacon so long, and then send him home to supper!" + +"It's all your fault, sir," said Miss Danforth cheerfully. "And I guess +the Squire has got his supper." + +"He must be a man of quick despatch," said Mr. Linden; while Faith +after a glance to see if her bannocks were right, made her announcement. + +"Mother, there's a shore party to-morrow." + +"Who's going, child?" + +"Squire Deacon and Cecilia--and I don't know who else--and he came to +ask us. Will you go and take tea with us at the shore, Mr. Linden?" + +"Does that mean that my tea is to be transported to the shore, and that +I am to go there to find it, Miss Faith?" + +"You have a very puzzling way of putting things," said Faith laughing, +though her look bore out her words. "I don't think it means that. +_Your_ tea won't be there before you are, Mr. Linden. Wouldn't you like +to go?" + +"The Squire says there is room enough on the shore," suggested Miss +Danforth. "I suppose he wants a good deal for himself, or he wouldn't +have thought of it." + +"Perhaps he thinks I want a good deal," said Mr. Linden. "Well--in +consideration of the width of the shore, I think I will go. Is not that +your advice, Miss Faith? What are the pros and cons,--if you were to +state them fairly?" + +"Well," said Faith, "you will have a pleasant ride, or walk, +down--whichever you like;--_I_ think it is very pleasant. You can go in +the water, if you like, which everybody does; there's a beautiful +shore; and I suppose that would be pleasant. You'll see all that is +pretty about the place while the people are digging clams and preparing +supper; and then you'll have supper; and then we shall come home; and I +think it is all pleasant, except that there will be too many people. I +like it best with just a few." + +"As if we were to go down there to-night in the moonlight.--Now Miss +Faith--what is the other side?" + +"Just that--the too many people. There isn't a chance to enjoy anything +quietly. I can enjoy the people too, sometimes, but not the other +things at the same time so well. Perhaps you can, Mr. Linden." + +"I can sometimes enjoy the other things at the same time--better." + +Faith again looked a little puzzled, but answered with a simple + +"Then I dare say you will like it." + +"What I am puzzled about," said he smiling, "is, how you are to shew me +the shore. Miss Danforth--why is that bread-plate so attractive to me, +while I am like the reverse end of the magnet to it?" + +"But my dear," said Mrs. Derrick, for the bread-plate was +suggestive,--"ain't you going along with the Squire's party?" + +"I said we would come after, mother." + +"The Squire only said there was room on the shore," added Miss Danforth. + +"Is the shore wide enough for us to drive down there? or must we walk?" +asked Mr. Linden. + +"But you'll eat supper with them, of course," said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Of course, mother. The wagon must go, Mr. Linden. There's room enough +for anything." + +Mr. Linden made no comment upon that, and finished his tea in +comparative silence. Then went forth, as was his custom, to the +post-office, and--as was not his custom--returned very soon. Mrs. +Derrick and Miss Danforth had gone out to see a neighbour, and Faith +sat alone in the twilight parlour. It was very twilight there, but he +walked in and stood waiting for his eyes to discover what there might +be. + +"There is nobody here but me, Mr. Linden," said a very soft and clear +voice. "Do you want anything?" + +"I wanted to see you--and am foiled by the darkness. Are you tired, +Miss Faith?" + +"Never. I wasn't sitting in the dark for that." + +"Would you object to coming into the light?" + +"Not at all," said Faith laughing. "Which way?" + +"There is to be a fine illumination to-night, which I should like to +have you see." + +"An illumination! Where is it? Shall I want my bonnet?" + +"You will be better illuminated without it,--but you may perhaps take +cold." + +"How do you make your scholars understand you?" said Faith. "I am sure +I must need illuminating.--So much, that I had better leave my bonnet, +Mr. Linden?" + +"I think you may--if you will take some light substitute. Why my +scholars _are_ my scholars, Miss Faith." + +"What then?" said Faith stopping short. + +"Why then I am their teacher." + +"I half wish I was a scholar too," said Faith with a tone which filled +up the other 'half'--"I don't know much, Mr. Linden." + +"About illuminations? I will promise you some light upon that point." + +With which encouragement, Faith fetched the scarf which was to do duty +for a bonnet if desired, and they set out. + +"Now Miss Faith," said her companion as he closed the gate, "if you +will shew me the road, I will shew you the shore.--Which will not at +all interfere with your shewing it to me to-morrow." + +"The shore!" said Faith. "To-night? Are you in earnest?" + +"Very much in earnest. You prefer some other road?" + +"No indeed--it's beautiful, and I like it very much. Cindy," she said +to that damsel whom they opportunely passed at the entrance of the +lane--"you tell my mother I am gone to take a walk." And so they passed +on. + +The way was down a lane breaking from the high road of the village, +just by Mrs. Derrick's house. It was a quiet country lane; passing +between fields of grass or grain, with few trees near at hand. Here and +there a house, small and unnotable like the trees. Over all the country +the moon, near full though not high, threw a gentle light; revealing to +the fancy a less picturesque landscape than the sun would have shewn; +for there were no strong lines or points to be made more striking by +her partial touches, and its greatest beauty lay in the details which +she could not light up. The soft and rich colours of grain and grass, +the waving tints of broken ground and hillside, were lost now; the +flowers in the hedges had shrunk into obscurity; the thrifty and +well-to-do order of every field and haystack, could hardly be noted +even by one who knew it was there. Only the white soft glimmer on a +wide pleasant land; the faint lighting of one side of trees and fences, +the broader salutation to a house-front, and the deeper shadow which +sometimes told of a piece of woodland or a slight hilly elevation. + +Then all that was passed; and the road descended a little steep to +where it crossed, by a wooden bridge, a small stream or bed of a creek. +Here the moon, now getting up in the sky, did greater execution; the +little winding piece of water glittered in silver patches, and its +sedgy borders were softly touched out; with the darker outlines of two +or three fishing-boats. + +And so on, towards the shore. Now the salt smell met and mingled with +the perfume of woods and flowers, and the road grew more and more +sandy. But still the fields waved with Indian-corn, were sweet with +hay, or furrowed with potatoes. Then the outlines of sundry frame +bathing-houses appeared in the distance, and near them the road came to +an end. + +The shore was improved by the moonlight,--its great rocks, slippery +with sea-weed, glittered with a wet sheen. The Sound wore its diamonds +royally, and each tiny wave broke in a jewelled light upon the sand. +Far in the distance the dim shore of Long Island lay like a black line +upon the water; and sloops and schooners sailed softly on their course, +or tacked across the rippling waves, a fleet of "Black spirits and +white." + +"What do you think of the illumination, Miss Faith?" said her +companion, when they had sat still for five minutes. + +"What do you think of it, I think I should say. Mr. Linden, I have +shewed you the shore!" + +"You!"-- + +"Who else? + +"Were you ever here before by moonlight?" + +"I don't know--No, I think not. Were you ever here before at all?" + +"Is it owing to you that I am here now?" + +"You couldn't have got here without me," said Faith, stooping to turn +over some of the glittering pebbles at her feet;--"and I couldn't have +got here without you. I am willing to allow that we are square, Mr. +Linden. I must!--for you will turn a corner faster than I can catch +you." + +"If you really suppose that first proposition to be true," said Mr. +Linden raising his eyebrows, "why of course there is no more to be +said. Miss Faith, how would you like to be sailing about in one of +those phantom ships?" + +"I should like it very well," said Faith, "in a good time. I went to +Pequot in one once. It was very pleasant. Why do you call them +phantoms?" + +"Look at that one standing off across the moonlight towards the other +shore,--gliding along so silently with her black sails all set,--does +she look real?--You cannot even hear the creaking of a rope." + +Faith looked, and drew an interrupted deep breath. She had lived in a +world of realities. Perhaps this was the first 'phantom' that had ever +suggested itself--or been suggested--to her imagination. Possibly +something of the same thought crossed her mind; for she drew her breath +again a little short as she spoke. + +"Yes!--it's beautiful!--But I live in such a different world, Mr. +Linden,--I never thought of such a thing before." + +He smiled--pleasantly and thoughtfully. "How came you to see the +sunrise colours the other day, Miss Faith?" + +"O I see them always. And that puts me in mind of something I have been +wanting to say to you every day all the week! and I could never find a +chance. You asked me that morning, Mr. Linden, if I was _true to my +name, finding enough in a cloudy sky_. What did you mean? What did you +mean by being true to my name'?" + +"I shall have to use your name a little freely, to tell you," he said. +"It is faith's privilege to be independent of circumstances. Faith +always finds something wherein to rejoice. If the sky be clear, + + 'Far into distant worlds she pries, + And brings eternal glories near.' + +If cloudy, faith uses her glass as a prism, and in one little ray of +light finds all the colours of the rainbow." + +"I don't know what a prism is," said Faith somewhat sadly. + +"A prism, in strictness, is a piece of glass cut in a particular way, +so that the colourless sunbeams which pass through it are divided into +their many-coloured members. But other things act as prisms,--the +rain-drops in a shower--the lustres upon your church chandelier. You +have seen the colours there?" + +"Well, how do they do that?" + +"I must take some other time to tell you,--it would be too long a +matter to-night. And I doubt whether you ought to sit here any longer." + +"But _this_ Faith don't do as you say," she said, as she slowly and +rather unwillingly rose from her seat. "And I don't understand how any +faith can." + +"This Faith must study the Bible then, and do what _that_ says." The +tone was encouraging though the voice was grave. + +He was not answered; and the homeward walk was begun. But Faith stopped +and turned again to look before she had gone three paces. + +"I am in no hurry," Mr. Linden said,--"take your own time--only do not +take cold." + +Faith turned away silently again, and began trudging along the sandy +road which led back to the lane. The moonlight shewed the way better +now. Passing on, as they neared home one house after another shewed its +glimmer of light and gave forth its cheerful sound of voices. From one, +however, the sound was _not_ cheerful. It was Squire Deacon's. + +"Well, you'll see to-morrow, Cilly--if the sky don't fall,--you'll see. +Folks thinks the water down to the shore's mighty deep--'way over their +heads--till they've made its acquaintance; and then they find out they +can wade round in it 'most anywheres."-- + +"What's the matter with the Squire?" said Faith with a slight laugh, as +these strange statements reached her ears. + +"I should think--to use his own phraseology--he must be 'over his head' +somewhere," replied Mr. Linden. + +Whereat Faith's laugh deepened, but the low sweet tone of it only +sounded an instant. + +"My dear!" said Mrs. Derrick, running out as they entered the gate, +"ain't you very imprudent? Wasn't she very imprudent, Mr. Linden?" + +"Very prudent, ma'am, for she wore a shawl." + +"And didn't want that, mother," said Faith. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + +The illumination lasted through the night--until + + "Night's candles were burnt out, and jocund day + Stood tip-toe on the misty mountain tops." + + +Very jocund she looked, with her light pink veils wreathing about the +horizon, and the dancing white clouds which hurried up as the sun rose, +driven by a fresh wind. Mr. Linden declared, when he came in to +breakfast, that the day promised to equal the preceding night. + +"And whoever wants more," he added, "must wait; for I think it will not +surpass it." + +With which, Mr. Linden stirred his coffee, and told Miss Danforth with +a little look of defiance, "it was particularly good--she had better +try a cup." + +Miss Danforth instituted a fierce inquiry as to the direction of the +preceding evening's walk; to which Faith gave an unsatisfactory answer. + +"Did you ever look at coffee in connexion with the fatigues of life?" +pursued Mr. Linden. + +"I shall, probably, in future," said Miss Danforth. "Now Mr. Linden, I +ask you; you're a nice man to give a straight answer;--where did you +and Faith go?" + +"I am glad I am a nice man," said Mr. Linden, "but I can scarce give a +straight answer to that question." + +"Why not, for pity's sake?" + +"It must needs travel a crooked road." + +"Did you?" + +"It has left a meandering sort of recollection in my mind." + +"Where did it lead to?" + +"It led to another." + +"What I want to know is," said Miss Danforth, "where did you find +yourselves when you were furthest from home." + +"Let me shew you," said he. "Suppose your plate to be a rock, and this +tumbler of radishes a tree, and the table-cloth grass,--the moon over +your head, crickets under your feet. Miss Faith walks round the rock, I +follow her,--and we both follow the road. On the way, the still night +air is enlivened with owls, grasshoppers, family secrets. Our attention +is thus divided between the moon and sublunary affairs. Miss +Faith--what shall I give you?" + +Miss Danforth's curiosity seemed for once willing to be satisfied with +fun; and Faith's hunger was in the same predicament. + +"But child," said Mrs. Derrick, who had bent her attention upon the +diagram at the other end of the table, "I don't recollect any such +place!" + +"Mother!" said Faith,--and her gravity gave way hopelessly. + +"Squire Deacon sends his best compliments of the season," said Cindy +opening the door a while later, "and he says they'll be to take supper +precisely at four. I'm free to confess he don't look much sweeter than +common," added Cindy. + +"Pray Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden as they left the table, "what is the +precise depth of water down at the shore?" + +Faith had very near broke down again, for she laughed and blushed, a +good deal more than her wont; and at last replied that "it depended on +how far people went in--she never went very far herself." + +"I was naturally curious," said he. + +After a dinner somewhat more hasty than usual, Mr. Linden and two of +the ladies set off for the shore. The blackberry jam, or some other +hindering cause, kept Mrs. Derrick at home. + +The country by daylight looked rich and smooth. At not a very great +distance a slight hilly elevation bounded the horizon line, which +nearer seen would have been found bristling with stern grey rock, +itself a ridge of rock, one of the ribs of the rigid soil. But where +the lane led down to the water, fair fields and crops extended on every +side, spotted very picturesquely with clumps of woodland. All looked +genial in the summer light. If the distant rocks spoke a stubborn soil, +the fine growth between said that man had overcome it; and the fine +order everywhere apparent said too that the victory had been effectual +for man's comfort and prosperity. The stone walls, in some places thin +and open, told of times when they had been hurriedly put up; moss on +the rail fences said the rails had been long doing duty; within them no +fields failed of their crops, and no crops wanted hoeing or weeding. No +straw lay scattered about the ricks; no barrack roofs were tumbling +down; no gate-posts stood sideways; no barnyards shewed rickety +outhouses or desolate mangers. No cattle were poor, and seemingly, no +people. It was a pretty ride the party had, in the little wagon, behind +an old horse that knew every inch of the way and trotted on as if he +were a part of it. + +"How do you like Pattaquasset, Mr. Linden?" said Faith, leaning forward +to reach him where he sat alone on the front seat. + +"I like it--well," he answered a little musingly. + +They came to the bridge and stream; and now they could see that Awasee +River did not fill its sometime channel, but flowed in a bottom of +alluvial soil, rich in bright-coloured marsh grass, which stretched up +the country between two of those clumps of woodland they had seen from +a distance. A little further on, just where the sandy road branched off +to the shore, there stood a farm house, with a conglomerate of barns +and outhouses, all painted to match, in bright yellow picked out with +red. + +"Do you see that settlement of farm-houses?" said Faith, leaning +forward again,--"of all sizes, in uniform?" + +"Is it the fashion here to put 'earmarks' on buildings?" he answered +with a smile. + +"Mr. Linden! You should ask Mr. Simlins that. I see his wagon +there--he'll be down at the shore very likely. He's a character. He +lives a mile and a half further on, just where the road turns off to +Mrs. Somers'." + +"Simlins!" was the only reply. + +"He's a good sort of man, but he's funny." + +"What is a good sort of man, Miss Faith?" + +The old horse was walking quietly along the sandy road, and the smell +of the salt water was becoming pleasantly perceptible. + +"I suppose I mean by it," said Faith thoughtfully, "a man who is not +_very good_, but who is on the good side of things." + +"I don't call that a good sort," said Mr. Linden,--then looking round +with a little smile he said, "You ought to say 'sort o' good.'" + +Faith looked serious and as if she felt half rebuked. + +"But," she said, "you would not call that a _bad_ sort?" + +"Then you mean that he is in the same road with what you call the +_best_ people, only not so far advanced?" + +"No," said Faith doubtfully, "I don't mean so much as that.--I don't +think Mr. Simlins is in the same road with you." + +"How many best roads are there to the same place? As for instance--does +it matter which of these two I take to the shore?" + +"Only one leads to the shore," said Faith. + +"Yet they seem to lie near together at the outset. The same is true of +the 'other shore.'" + +Faith sat back in her place with a face exceedingly unlike a young lady +who was going to a merry-making. + +But they were near the shore now; not only the salt smell proclaimed +it, but they could see the various bathing and other houses collected +at the place, and the flag which floated high from the flag-staff, +telling all who were not concerned that it was a gala day. A piece of +ground immediately surrounding these buildings was fenced in; as they +neared the gate, it was opened for them, and a tall farmer-looking man, +whose straw hat shaded a sensible face, nodded as they passed. + +"That is Mr. Simlins!" said Faith. + +Mr. Simlins seemed for the present to be king of the castle. Horses +there were, and wagons, standing here and there, and one or two oldish +faces looked out from the windows of one long shanty; but the rest of +the birds had flown--into the water! It was the time of low tide, and +the long strips of rippling water which lay one beyond the other, were +separated by sand banks nearly as long. In these little tide lakes were +the bathers,--the more timid near shore, taking almost a sand bath; the +more adventurous going further and further out, till the last party +bathed beyond the last sand bank. Not dressed in the latest Cape May +fashion, nor the latest fashion of any kind; for each had brought some +dress too old to be hurt with salt water. Calico frocks, of every hue +and pattern,--caps, hand kerchiefs, sun-bonnets,--gave additional force +to the cries and shouts and screams which were wafted inshore. + +But when they began to come in!--and when the bathing dresses were hung +on the fence to dry!--and when mermaid visions appeared at the +windows!--who shall describe the scene then? Over all, a blue smoke now +began to curl and float, rising from the stove-pipe of the eating-house. + +Mr. Linden had driven up to one of the fence posts, and fastening his +horse stood a while watching the show, till the bathers began to draw +in from the water. Then helped the ladies out. + +"Which of these baskets contains my tea, Miss Faith?" he said. "I feel +a particular interest in that basket." + +"Perhaps your tea is in some other basket," said Faith; "but both of +these must come into the eating-house. O, thank you, Mr. Linden!" + +The eating-house was a long shanty, built for the express purpose of +feasting picnic and other parties. At one end of it, within the house, +was a well of excellent water; at the other end a door opened into a +cooking-house, which held a stove; and through the length of the +apartment a narrow table of boards was erected, ready to be covered +with any description and any succession of table-cloths. In this room +Mr. Linden with Faith's help deposited her baskets; while Miss Danforth +looked on. At the door of the shanty coming out they met Mr. Simlins. +Faith made the introductions. + +"Happy to have your acquaintance," said Mr. Simlins. "This is a piece +of Pattaquasset, sir, that we all of us rather cord'ally like. You +haven't seen it before?" + +"Yes, I don't wonder you like it," said Mr. Linden. "The sea-shore is +no novelty to me, sir--such a shore party is." + +"I hope you'll enjoy it, as the rest of us do. We all do as we like, +Mr. Linden--I hope you'll use the grounds as your own. We have the flag +flying, sir, and it ratifies liberty to all who amuse themselves under +it." + +Mr. Linden looked up at the stars and stripes, with an acknowledging +smile for the benefits thereby conferred. + +"Faith! Faith Derrick!" called out half a dozen mermaids from the +bathing house; and Faith was obliged to go,--while her companions +walked up the green slope, and entered into a deep discussion of the +crops and the weather. + +A while after, when Faith was busy about the supper table--twenty young +voices chiming around her, another voice that she did not know spoke +close at her elbow. + +"Miss Faith--I am Reuben Taylor. Mr. Linden told me to come to you and +make myself useful. Is there any thing I can do?--would you like some +round clams?--Father's out there in the boat." + +The earnest eyes said how gladly he would do 'any thing.' + +"Who is your father?" said Faith, a little surprised. + +"My father's a fisherman." + +"The very thing!" said Faith--"if you'll help me roast 'em, Reuben. I +guess nobody else'll want to do it, but I'd just as lieve. Can you have +'em here quickly? and I'll see and have the stove ready." + +"O I'll fetch 'em--and roast 'em too, Miss Faith. I'm used to it," he +added, with a half bashful half admiring glance at her face. + +Faith had the fire ready by the time Reuben returned with the clams. +The kettle was on to boil, and nothing else was wanted of the fire, as +it happened, by anybody; least of all to roast clams, that necessarily +making a kitchen prisoner of the roaster; so Faith and her new +coadjutor had the field--i.e. the cooking house--all to themselves. +Miss Danforth was to leave Pattaquasset in a day or two, and was busy +talking to everybody. Readily the clams opened their shells on the hot +stove-top; savourily the odour of steaming clam juice spread itself +abroad; but Faith and Reuben were 'in' for it, and nobody else cared to +be in. + +So when Miss Cecilia Deacon had finished her toilet, which was somewhat +of the longest, as it had been one of the latest, she found nobody but +her brother to apply to on the score of her hostess duties. + +"Sam!" said the young lady pinching her brother's arm,--"I haven't been +introduced to Mr. Linden." + +"He'll keep," was the encouraging reply. + +"Yes, but supper won't. See, Sam!--I haven't been introduced to him, +and I _must_." + +The Squire nodded his head politely, and began to whistle. + +"Come!--you Sam--you've got to, and in a hurry. I can't find Faith, or +I'd make her." + +"Well--I can't find him," said the Squire pettishly. "I haven't got +neither of 'em in my pocket--nor the crown of my hat," he added, taking +off that useful article of dress for the express purpose of looking +into it. "My deliberate judgment is to have supper." + +"Don't be a goose, Sam! What's the use of asking him, if you didn't +mean to conduct yourself?" + +"Didn't ask him." + +"Who did?" + +"_I_ didn't hear anybody," was the Squire's reply. + +"_Don't_ you mean to introduce me, Sam Deacon?" said his sister in a +tone which was rather over the verge of patience. + +"Jem Williams!" said the Squire, calling up a spruce embodiment of blue +cloth, brass buttons, and pink cravat,--"I say! here's Cilly off the +hooks to get hold of the new teacher. Whereabouts do you s'pose he is?" + +"Really Squire!" said Jem Williams, with a silly little laugh, "I +couldn't testify! Reckon he knows Miss Cilly 'd keep hold on him _ef_ +she got a chance!" + +"Sha'n't speak to you in a month, Jem!" said the lady with a toss of +her head and some heightening of the really pretty colour in her +cheeks. "You may fix it as you've a mind to, among you, and let anybody +that likes bring him in to supper! _I'm_ going in, out of the way, +myself." + +Whither she went, on the spur, as good as her word; nor shewed her +pretty face again outside. + +Meanwhile Reuben and Faith had worked on through their basket of clams, +and now the last were sputtering on the stove. The work had been done +almost in silence, for though the excitement now and then made Reuben +break into a low whistle of some tune or other, he always checked +himself the next moment with a very apologetic look. For the rest, if +he had not done all the work himself, it certainly was not his fault. +Now, watching quietly the opening shells of that last dozen of clams, +Reuben remarked, + +"I _hope_ Mr. Linden won't forget about supper!" + +"Why what about it?" said Faith. "Why should he forget? or what if he +does?" + +The last sentence seemed to puzzle Reuben. + +"I don't know, ma'am," he said,--"it's better before everybody eats it +up." + +"Who's going to eat it up?" said Faith. "Where is he?" + +"He went down on the sands with me," said Reuben, "but he didn't come +up again. Maybe he has now. He liked it down there, real well." + +Faith went to the shutter window and flung it open, and looked to see +whether or no the missing gentleman had returned to the shore. It was a +fair view that lay spread before her. The low beams of the sun gave a +cool afternoon look to everything; the sloop sails shone and gleamed in +the distance; down by the muscle rocks one little boat lay rocking on +the advancing tide, which was fast covering the sand banks and +connecting the strips of water; and the freshening breeze curled the +little waves as they came dancing in, and brought a low sweet murmur to +the shore. One or two gulls sailed floatingly about, and a brown +mink--perceiving that the company had retreated to higher ground--came +out and aired himself on one of the rocks. + +But Faith saw none of these things,--for in swinging open her shutter +(which the wind caught and clapped up against the house) she so nearly +swung it against Mr. Linden that her first look was a startled one. + +"Miss Faith!" he said, turning round, "what can you possibly be about!" + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Linden!"--said Faith. + +"Is that all you are about?" + +"You were anxious about your supper, Mr. Linden--Are you ready for it?" + +"Much more ready than anxious, Miss Faith." + +"How do you like the shore to-day?" said Faith, dropping her voice, and +giving a glance of her eye to the fair, cool sunlight colours on the +water and shore and shipping--fresh as the very sea-breeze itself, and +glittering as the water's thousand mirrors could make them. + +He turned and looked again, drawing in the breeze with a deep breath +that more than answered her question. + +"How do you like this?" he said, handing her through the window a +little miniature tree of red sea-weed. Then, while she examined it, he +repeated,-- + + "'When descends on the Atlantic + The gigantic + Storm-wind of the equinox, + Landward in his wrath he scourges + The toiling surges, + Laden with sea-weed from the rocks; + + "'From Bermuda's reefs; from edges + Of sunken ledges, + In some far-off, bright Azore; + From Bahama, and the dashing, + Silver-flashing + Surges of San Salvador; + + "'From the tumbling surf that buries + The Orkneyan skerries, + Answering the hoarse Hebrides; + And from wrecks of ships, and drifting + Spars, uplifting + On the desolate, rainy seas;-- + + "'Ever drifting, drifting, drifting + On the shifting + Currents of the restless main; + Till in shelter d coves, and reaches + Of sandy beaches, + All have found repose again.'" + + +Faith's eye was upon the sprig of sea-weed while these verses were +repeating,--then she looked up at the speaker with an intenseness in +which oddly mingled some strong feeling of sorrow or regret. + +"It's beautiful!"--she said,--"beautiful!--both the one and the other. +But there are a great many things there I don't understand,"--she added +once more with a smile. "If there was time--but there isn't.--Mr. +Linden, Reuben and I have been roasting clams." + +"Yes, Miss Faith," he said answering the smile and stepping nearer the +window. "So one of my senses informed me. Do you know what that is in +your hand?" + +"It's sea-weed, isn't it?" + +"Yes. And moreover--Miss Faith, that is part of your marine Flora. Now +what about the clams?" + +"My _what?_" said Faith. "First tell me, please, what you said." + +"Your marine Flora." + +"What is that?" + +"The particular department of life in the sea, of which this is a +specimen." + +Faith looked puzzled, and amused. + +"You don't mean to enlighten me more than you can help," she said. "But +why do you call it Flora? you used that word before. And oh Mr. +Linden--You can't tell me now, for supper's all ready." + +His eyes looked amused too, and laying a clover head on the window, he +said, + +"That is part of your land Flora,"--then pushed the shutter to rather +quick, but softly; and Faith heard the reason thereof as follows. + +"Wal sir--ef this be you, I've looked all over for you." + +"How was it that you overlooked me then, sir?" was Mr. Linden's reply. + +"Don't jes know," laughed Jem Williams,--"but Miss Cilly Deacon wants +you the worst kind." + +"And where shall I go to receive her commands?" said Mr. Linden. + +Faith heard their retreating steps, and turning to take off her apron +saw the dish of hot clams still on the stove, and that Reuben had +removed himself outside the door, quite beyond the conversation but not +beyond call. He stood looking thoughtfully out towards the muscle rocks. + +"Oh Reuben! there you are. Come!" said Faith; "you're going in with me. +_You_'re going to have some supper to-night, whoever else does. You +open the door, and I'll take in this dish. You keep by me, Reuben." + +"Please let me take the dish, then, Miss Faith,--I can open the door +first." + +But Faith had her own way, and followed by Reuben carried the clams +into the supper room, where some of the company were already seated, +and others stood waiting. Squire Deacon had not only given the desired +introduction, but had (self-denyingly) placed Mr. Linden next Miss +Cilly at the table,--where he stood. + +"Here's a contribution," said Faith,--"if somebody 'll make a place for +it. Thank you, Mr. Deacon. Now Reuben,--come here." + +And refusing more than one offer of a place at the table, Faith made +her way down to the 'well end' where there was room for two--at a +remote distance from the tea and coffee. + +What else was there not, upon that table! + +"Won't you take a seat, Mr. Linden?" said Miss Cecilia. "I hope you've +got room there. Jerushy, can't you shove down a little? I hope my +coffee-pot's not disagreeable." + +"I hope not!" said Mr. Linden, surveying the coffee-pot. "How long does +it take to declare itself, Miss Deacon?" + +"O it won't do anything, but spout coffee," said the young lady,--"if +you don't mind that. Won't you be helped to what you like, Mr. Linden? +I hope you have enjoyed our shore party this afternoon." + +"Thank you"--said Mr. Linden, feeling perhaps that it was not _their_ +party he had enjoyed,--"there has been a combination of pleasant +things. As far as I could judge the bathers enjoyed their particular +expedition." + +"O yes, it was delightful--invigorating. Mr. Simlins, I think Mr. +Linden will like a piece of that cherry-pie with his clams. Do you take +cheese, Mr. Linden? Is your coffee agreeable? There is the cold tongue +by you, Jerushy.--I hope you like Pattaquasset." + +"Ask Mr Linden whether Pattaquasset ain't a good place for handsome +gals," said Mr. Simlins, as he handed over the piece of cherry-pie. "He +knows by this time. I say there's a con-catenation of beauty now here +this afternoon. If you look from the top to the bottom of the table, +now, ain't it true, sir?" + +Mr. Linden certainly looked from the top to the bottom of the table, +and then setting the plate of cherry-pie as far from his clams as he +could, he said, + +"Miss Deacon--let me help you,--tell me where these cups belong, and I +will convey them to their destination." + +"I thought they'd shove down somehow," said the young lady. "Jerushy, +_do_ pass the coffee! They're for anybody down there who'll take +coffee. Tea'll be along presently," added Miss Cecilia, raising her +voice a little to give the information. "Don't you trouble yourself, +Mr. Linden." + +But Mr. Linden secured one, and carrying it down to Faith, requested +her to stir it and taste it, and not give him the trouble of coming +back with the sugar-bowl. + +"What will you have?" he said while she obeyed his directions. "Here +are all the pies that can be thought of except the musical one recorded +in history." + +"And so," said Faith with a laughing flash of her usually soft eye, +"you immediately give me a desire for the one not here! It's like you, +Mr. Linden. No, thank you--I'll have none of these. I believe Reuben +has a desire for some of the clams he and I have roasted." + +"I'm afraid I cannot get them away from Squire Deacon!" he said, "but +I'll try." + +The Squire however held fast to the dish, and rising from his place +midway at the table, insisted upon taking it to Faith himself. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "you have ruined my supper by sitting down here. +My appetite has quite forsaken me," (whereupon Jem Williams observed, +"that warn't strange.")--"and the worst is," added the Squire, "I can't +maintain the constant supervision of your plate which my feelings +prompt. I am too far off"--he concluded in a melancholy tone. + +"I say, Squire!" said Jem Williams, "you bain't _mor_'n as far agin as +_he_"--with a nod towards the upper end of the table. + +Squire Deacon lowered, but for the present his feelings were restrained. + +"Mr. Simlins," said Endecott, when he had resumed his seat, "I ask +you--as one who knows the country--whereabouts does the concatenation +you spoke of reach a climax?" + +"The star you look at is always the brightest," said the farmer. +"However, I think the clams is the best thing at table--or _near_ the +best," with a slight glance towards Squire Deacon and the dish at the +'well end.'"I've a legendary attachment to beauty, sir; my father +married the three prettiest wives in the country." + +"I say, Squire," said Jem Williams, "Mr. Simlins says you'r' hot." + +"Hot?" said Squire Deacon, flushing up very much, and setting down the +clams,--"that dish is. _I_'m as cool as all these cucumbers accumulated +into a heap." + +"Hope you'll stay where you are, then," said Mr. Simlins. "I'm cool +too. Don't come near me, or we shall be in a state of concentration." + +Mr. Linden remarked that that was an excellent point when reached. + +"What point?" said Squire Deacon, who had returned to his seat with the +strong impression that everybody was laughing at him, under the special +guidance of the new teacher. "You know mighty little of the points +round here, I tell _you_." + +"The point of concentration is found in various places, sir," said Mr. +Linden: "though I grant you it is rare." + +"What do you know about Pattaquasset points?" repeated the Squire,--"or +Pattaquasset people--or Pattaquasset water either, for that matter? +Just you go down here when the tide's in--and afore you know where you +are you'll find yourself wading round over your head." + +"No sir--never," said Mr. Linden with great assurance. + +"Why not? how're you goin' to help it?" said Squire Deacon. + +"When I reach _that_ point," said Mr. Linden, "I shall swim." + +And Faith heard Reuben Taylor's smothered laugh of great gratification. + +"Hope you haven't spoiled your own supper, Squire," said Mr. Simlins, +"by your complacency in carrying about them hot clams. Have somethin' +this way?" + +While this question was getting its answer, Faith sat back in her chair +and looked up and down the length of the table. It presented a +distinguished 'after-supper' view, but the demands of the company had +not yet ceased. Mr. Simlins was still discussing cheese and politics; +Jem Williams was deep in cherry pie; plum cake was not out of favour +with the ladies. The Squire was hard at work at _his_ supper, which had +been diversely and wickedly interrupted. He was making up for lost time +now; while his sister, much disengaged, was bending her questions and +smiles on Mr. Linden. Faith tried to see Mr. Linden, but she couldn't; +he was leaning back from the table; and her eyes went out of doors. It +was too fair and sweet there to be cooped up from it. The sun had just +set. Faith could not see the water; the windows of the eating house +looked landward; but the air which came in at them said where it had +come from, and breathed the salt freshness of the sea into her face. + +But presently every chair was pushed back. And now there was no more +silence nor quiet The busy swarm poured out of the supper room; the men +to lounge or tackle their horses, the women to gather up the bathing +dresses from the fence, to look round, laugh, and go in again to pack +up the dishes. It would seem that this last might be a work of time, +each had to find her own through such a maze of confusion. There was a +spoon of Miss Cecilia's providing, in a cup of Mrs. Derrick's, beside a +plate of Mrs. David's, and before a half-eaten cherry pie which had +been compounded in the distant home and by the fair fingers of Miss +Jerusha Fax. However, most people know their own at least; and as on +the present occasion nobody had any particular desire to meddle with +what was not her own, the difficulty was got through with. The baskets +and hampers were packed again and stowed in their respective wagons; +and everybody was bidding good bye to everybody. Noisy thanks and +praises fell liberally to the share of Miss Cecilia and her brother, +and the afternoon was declared to have been "splendid." + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + +For some weeks the little town of Pattaquasset held on its peaceful way +as usual. Early summer passed into harvest, and harvest gave way to the +first blush of autumn, and still the Mong flowed quietly along, and the +kildeers sang fearlessly. For even tenor and happy spirits, the new +teacher and his scholars were not unlike the smooth river and its +feathered visiters. Whatever the boys were taught, they certainly +learned to be happy; and Mr. Linden's popularity knew no bounds in his +own domain. Neither did it end there: those fair members of the +Pattaquasset society who thought early walks good for their health, +felt their sleepy eyes well paid for keeping open when they met Mr. +Linden. Those who were fond of evening expeditions, declared that his +figure in the twilight was 'quite a picture,' and made them feel 'so +safe,'--a great slander, by the way, on Pattaquasset. Mr. Simlins was +his firm friend, and many another--known and unknown. Squire Deacon, I +regret to say, was an exception. + +Squire Deacon declared (confidentially) that he never _had_ thought the +new teacher fit for his business, _no_ how. As far as he could hear, +Mr. Linden had never taught school before, and in that case what could +you expect? "Moreover," said the Squire, "I am creditably informed, +that the first day he kep' school _here_, he begun by asking the boys +who made them!--as if _that_ had anything to do with geography. Of +course it's nat'ral for a man to ask what he knows he can answer if the +boys don't," added Squire Deacon in the way of kind explanation. + +Whereupon, Jonathan Fax, the Squire's right hand man, requested to be +informed, "_why_ ef a man was poor didn't he dress as though he felt +so,--and _why_ ef he warn't rich did he act as though he war?" And thus +by degrees, there was quite an opposition party in Pattaquasset--if +that could be opposition which the object of it never opposed. By +degrees too, the murmurs became more audible. + +"Faith, child," said Mrs. Derrick in a cautions whisper, coining out +where Faith sat on the porch, bathed in the late September light: +"Faith, child, where's our Linden tree?" (Mrs. Derrick thought she had +concealed her meaning _now_, if anybody did overhear.) + +Faith started, more than so gentle a question seemed to call for. + +"He's gone down to the post-office, mother." + +Her mother stood still and thought. + +"Child," she said, "I never thought we had any fools in our town +before." + +"I didn't know there were so many," said Faith. "What new, mother?" + +"Child," she said, "you know more than I about some things--what do you +s'pose fools _can_ do? Isn't he a whole tree of knowledge?" + +"There is no fear of him, mother!" Faith said with a smile, which if +the subject of it valued any faith in the world but his own it would +have gratified him to see. "They can't touch him. They may vex him." + +Mrs. Derrick shook her head, softly, behind Faith's chair, then turned +and went back into the house; not caring, as it seemed, to spread the +vexation. Then after a little interval of bird music, the gate opened +to admit Reuben Taylor. He held a bunch of water lilies--drooping their +fair heads from his hand; his own head drooped a little too. Then he +raised it and came firmly on. + +"Is Mr. Linden home, Miss Faith?" + +"No, Reuben--He will be directly, I guess. Do you want to see him?" + +"No"--said Reuben, "I don' know as I do, more than usual. I _have_ seen +him all day. He wanted some pond lilies, Miss Faith--at least he told +me to bring 'em. Maybe it was you wanted 'em." + +"I'll give them to him, Reuben. What's the matter with _you?_" + +But Reuben stood silent--perhaps from the difficulty of speaking, + +"Miss Faith," he said at last, "is Squire Deacon all the trustees of +our school, besides Mr. Somers?" + +"No. Why? What about it?" + +"_He_'s doin' all the mischief he can," said Reuben concisely. + +"What mischief has he done, Reuben?" said Faith, waiting upon the boy's +answer with an anxious face. + +"Well"--said Reuben, as if he could not put it in plain words,--"he's +tryin' to turn folks heads--and some heads is easy turned." + +"How did you know this?--and whose head has he turned, Reuben? Not +yours?" + +"They'd have to turn my _heart_, Miss Faith," was Reuben's subdued +answer. Then he looked up and listened--hearing a step he well knew. +Nor that alone, for a few low notes of a sweet hymn tune, seemed to say +there were pleasant thoughts within reach of at least one person. Then +Reuben broke forth. + +"They can't keep him out of heaven, anyway!--nor me, neither," he added +softly. But he ran down the steps and out of the gate, passing his +teacher with only a bow; and once beyond the fence, Reuben's head +dropped in his hands. + +"Reuben! I want you!"--said Mr. Linden. But Reuben was out of sight. +Faith stood between the house and the gate. + +"Where is he? can't you make him hear? I want that boy!" she said. + +"I can run after him---- with doubtful success." + +"The foolish fellow brought these for you, Mr. Linden," said Faith, +giving the lilies where they belonged. + +"Complimentary, Miss Faith!" said Mr. Linden, taking the lilies and +smelling them gravely. + +"_He_ is," said Faith, "and you speak as if _I_ wasn't." + +"Will it redeem my character--or Reuben's--if I bestow the lilies upon +you, Miss Faith? I think that was their destination." + +Faith took the lilies back again, with a slight smile and flash, and +stood attentively turning them over for a while. Then suddenly said +"Thank you." + +"What did you want of Reuben Taylor?" said Mr. Linden. "Cannot I do as +well?" + +"I should be sorry to think you wanted, Mr. Linden, what I wanted to +give him." + +"That sounds terrific! But Reuben is under my jurisdiction--I don't +allow anybody to scold him but myself. So deliver it to me, Miss Faith, +and I will give it to him--duly pointed and sharpened up." + +"No," said Faith smiling, "you couldn't do it so well as I. I wanted to +say two words to him to put nonsense out of his head." + +"Nonsense!" said Mr. Linden, looking grave,--"I am as anxious on that +point as you can be. What nonsense has he got in his head?" + +Faith hesitated, flushed and paled a little, and looked at her lilies. + +"I don't know whether I ought to speak of it," she began, with much +less than her usual composure of speech. "Perhaps it is not my +business. Please forgive me if I speak wrong. But I half think you +ought to know it."-- + +"I'll try to bear the knowledge," he said smiling--"if you will promise +to speak the cabalistic two words that were to have such effect upon +Reuben. So you want to put nonsense into my head, Miss Faith?" + +"Perhaps you know it already?" said Faith. "At any rate I think I +should feel better satisfied if you did know it. Mr. Linden," she said +speaking low--"do you know that Squire Deacon has been trying to do you +mischief?" + +"Just suppose for a moment that you are one of my scholars, and give me +a definition of mischief." + +To judge by the unbent lines of Faith's brow, there was nothing very +disagreeable to her in the supposition. Yet she had a look of care for +the 'definition,' too. + +"When a man is meaning to do harm, isn't he doing mischief?" + +"Only to himself." + +"But do you mean that one _can't_ do harm to others in this world?" + +"You said 'when a man is _meaning_ to do harm.'" + +"Ah," said Faith laughing, "I should want a great deal of teaching +before I could give a definition that would suit you! Well then, isn't +_harm_ mischief?" + +"I'm afraid I must yield that point." + +"Then," said Faith simply, but very modestly,--"we come back to where +we started from?" + +"What shall we do there?" said he smiling. + +"Nothing, perhaps," said Faith with the same simplicity. "I only +thought it right to put you there, Mr. Linden." + +"Thank you, Miss Faith. Now will you please pronounce over me the two +words intended for Reuben?" + +Faith laughed a little, but then said gravely, "Mr. Linden, I should be +very sorry to think you needed them." + +"It's impossible always to avoid being very sorry: I _want_ them, at +all events. Haven't you just been putting nonsense into my head?" + +"Have I?" said Faith. + +"Do you suppose there was any there before?" + +"I--don't--think," said Faith, surveying his face,--"there is much +there now. I guess you don't need the two words, Mr. Linden. I was +going to tell Reuben he was a goose for thinking that that man could +hurt you." + +His face changed a little. + +"Poor Reuben!" he said--then with the former look--"On the whole, +perhaps it was well he did not come back. If you put those in water +they will open their eyes to-morrow. Fresh water--not salt," he added +as he followed her into the house,--"they are not part of the marine +Flora." + +Tea was ready, with its usual cheer of eatables and pleasant faces; not +quite with its usual flow of talk. Mrs. Derrick certainly had something +bewildering on her mind, for she even looked at her guest two or three +times when he was looking at her. The pond lilies were alone in the +twilight parlour. + +That was probably the reason why Lucinda introduced Parson Somers into +the tea-room, the parson happening to call at this identical time. + +Parson Somers was always in a genial state of mind;--always, at least, +whenever he came into Mrs. Derrick's parlour; by the testimony of +numbers it was the same in many other parlours. He came in so now; gave +a smile all round; and took an empty chair and place at the table like +one who found it pleasant. + +"Well, I declare, Mrs. Derrick," said Mr. Somers when he was +seated,--"I don't think there's--a--a more cheerful room in +Pattaquasset than this one; why, you always have everything agreeable +here. A cup of tea, now--I didn't expect it" + +"Why we always _do_ have tea, Mr. Somers," said Mrs. Derrick, "but it +don't seem strong to-night. Lucindy--take the teapot and make some +fresh." + +"These baked apples are strong--in numbers at least," said Mr. Linden, +as he bestowed one upon Mr. Somers. + +"Thank you!--it's all strong enough, Mrs. Derrick--thank you!--very +good. And Mr. Linden--how are you--a--getting along with your juvenile +charge? Confining work, sir,--isn't it?" + +"Rather, sir--to the body." + +"Not to the mind, eh? Well--I should have thought that to a gentleman +like you it would prove--a--_more_ deleterious to the mental faculties. +But I suppose you find yourself rewarded by your pupils' improvement +and--regard!" + +"Yes sir--their regard is very precious to me," was the quiet reply. + +"I should think so! Why there's that boy Reuben Taylor--strange father +that boy has--fisherman;--I met that boy this evening, in the street, +and he was crying,--down a little below here--he was going home. I +asked him--ha--if Mr. Linden had been dealing hardly with him?--and I +declare!--I didn't know but Reuben would have attacked me on the spot." + +"Has Mr. Linden a character in the village for cruelty?" said Faith. + +"I--I declare--not that I know of, Miss Faith. I should think it could +not be deserved. That boy's attachment is certainly--ha--very warm. My +dear Mrs. Derrick, how well Miss Faith is looking! She always looks +well; but to-night--ha--the colour of her cheeks is--to be remarked." + +"You will get a character for cruelty, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, +"if you ask about my character before my face." + +Faith looked up as if she would willingly have asked a question; but +that being in present circumstances impossible, she merely uttered a +quiet little 'no,' and went on with her tea and with a colour still +further improved, A quiet little 'yes,' of about equal prominence, did +not divert the attention of Mr. Somers from his own remarks. + +"It's delightful to see--really," said that gentleman. "But Mr. +Linden--ha--I am sorry to find that you haven't the good will of our +neighbour, Squire Deacon. The Squire's a valuable man--very!--the +Squire's a valuable man in the town. I am sorry. Do you know, Mr. +Linden--ha--how it has happened?" + +"Have you asked the Squire himself, sir?" said Mr. Linden. + +"Why--no, sir, I haven't. I--ha--wanted to get at the truth of it, that +I might, if possible, do something to heal the breach. Now you are +doing a valuable work in Pattaquasset, sir--I should be sorry to see it +interrupted--very--and I thought the best way would be to try to find +out what the matter was, in order if possible to its being removed. And +to get at the truth it is often best to hear both sides." + +"But I have no side to tell, sir," said Mr. Linden--smiling in spite of +himself. "I cannot deny that Squire Deacon seems to withhold his good +will--I think it is for him to tell his reasons." + +"Then you really have no idea what it can be about? and I may tell him +so? Because that would be a great point." + +"No sir, you may not tell him that." + +"Then you _have_ an idea what the matter is?" said Mr. Somers eagerly. +"Then, sir, if you will be so good as to let me know what it is--I have +no doubt--I entertain no doubt--we shall be able to smooth it all away, +and have peace." + +"You cannot prove one man's ideas by another man's," said Mr. Linden. + +"Then you can give me no help?" said Mr. Somers regretfully. "But Mr. +Linden--ha--it strikes me that it would be useful for me to know your +view of the cause of offence--whatever it is--before I know his. One +may correct the other." + +"There has been no offence given sir," said Mr. Linden. "That the +Squire has taken offence we both know,--why he has taken it--_if_ I +know--I have no right to tell you, Squire Deacon might justly complain +of me if I did. It is from no disrespect to you, believe me." + +"I say!" said Cindy coming into the room with a basket,--"here's Sam +Stoutenburgh been and fetched some Stoutenburgh Sweetenings--for his +teacher, he says. I'm free to confess," added Cindy as she set down the +basket by Mr. Linden, "he said if he _would_ like to do anythin' better +with 'em, it would just be to shy 'em at Squire Deacon's head--so I +guess they aint over and above ripe." + +"Ha!--Very pleasant, certainly!--very gratifying," said Mr. Somers +rising. "Mr. Linden--I have no more to say. You are a gentleman, sir, +and understand these matters. I will see what I can do. Mrs. Derrick--I +thank you for your tea, ma'am--I am sorry there should be anything +disagreeable,--but I have no doubt it will all be set right--The Squire +is a good-feeling man--I have no doubt of it. Miss Faith--ha!--why Mrs. +Derrick this colour is too deep, it isn't natural. It looks feverish!" + +"Do the Pattaquasset ladies use any rouge but their own sea breezes?" +asked Mr. Linden. + +"Ha! we _do_ get the sea breezes here--pleasantly," answered Mr. +Somers. "Good evening!"-- + +Mr. Linden accompanied the visiter to the little gate, and returning +paced up and down the moonlit porch, followed only by his shadow. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + +While Mr. Somers was enjoying his cup of unexpected tea at Mrs. +Derrick's, Squire Deacon and Miss Cilly had a sociable tête-à-tête over +theirs; for Joe Deacon, who was in the full enjoyment of some fourteen +years of boyhood, scarcely made a third in the conversation until his +appetite was satisfied. + +Conversation indeed hardly existed during the first portion of the +meal. Miss Cilly poured out her tea and broke her biscuit with a +certain prim sort of elegance which belonged to that young lady--as at +least she believed. But sipping tea and nibbling biscuit went on in +company with thoughts. + +"Sam, what are you bothering yourself about Mr. Linden for?" + +"How long since you was made a trustee?" said the Squire, beginning his +sentence with an untranslatable sort of grunt, and ending it in his +teacup. + +"Give us the sugar bowl down this way, Cilly," said Joe,--"this apple +sarce is as sour as sixty." + +"I've been your trustee ever since you was up to anything," said his +sister. "Come Sam--don't you begin now. What's made you so crusty?" + +"It aint the worst thing to be crusty," said the Squire, while Joe +started up and seized the sugar bowl. "Shews a man's more'n half baked, +any how." + +Miss Cilly vouchsafed a rather sour smile to these manifestations of +disposition on the part of both her brothers. + +"Well, what has he done?" + +"Sure enough," said the Squire, (he kept his small stock of big words +for company) "what _has_ he done? That's just what I can't find out." + +"What do you want to find out for? What ails him?" + +"Suppose he hasn't done nothing"--said the Squire,--"is that the sort +o' man to teach litteratur in Pattaquasset?" + +"Lit--_what?_" said his sister with an arch of her head. + +"Anything you've a mind to," said the Squire sulkily. + +"I wouldn't say anything against Mr. Linden's literature, if I was you; +because it's my belief, Sam, it'll stand any pecking you make at it. +What's given you such a spite at him? You're a goodnatured fellow +enough in general." + +"The whole temperature of Pattaquasset's come about since _he_ come," +replied the Squire comprehensively. + +"He's a gentleman!" said Miss Cilly bridling again. "He won't hurt +anybody's manners--not the best--if they was to copy him." + +"He didn't hurt mine," said Joe patronizingly. "To be sure I didn't go +to him long." + +"Do the boys like him, Joe?" + +"Well I daresay they wouldn't if they could help it," said Joe, "if +_that's_ any comfort. Some other folks likes him too,--besides Sam." + +"Aint he a good teacher?" + +"Firstrate--" said Joe, "taught me all _I_ ever learned. I didn't go +but four weeks, and Sam thought 'twarn't no use for me to hold on any +longer. My! Cilly--he'd make you roll up your eyes in arithmetic!" + +"Now Sam Deacon, what do you expect to do by all this fuss you're +making?" said his sister judicially. + +"What's the use of cross-examining a man at that rate?" said the Squire +restlessly. "When I do anything, you'll know it." + +"You'll make yourself a fool, one of these fine mornings; that's what I +count upon," said Miss Cecilia. "He's a match for you, I have a +presentiment, Sam." + +"He won't be for you," said the Squire with some heat. + +"There's Mr. Simlins goin' along," said Joe, who having finished his +supper was gazing out of the window. "O my! if he was cut up into real +simlinses, what a many there'd be!" + +"You hush, Joe!" said his sister wrathfully. "He's comin' in." + +And Mr. Simlins' tall figure did indeed come through the gate and up +the walk, from which a very few more steps and minutes brought him to +the tea table. + +"Well, Mr. Simlins!" said Miss Cecilia as she gave him his +cup,--"you've got back. I heard you were returned." + +"Yes!" said the farmer deliberately stirring his tea,--"I've got back! +And I'm glad, for one. I've been visiting my relations in New Jersey; +and I've made up _my_ mind that the Simlinses made a good move when +they come to Connecticut." + +"You found them all well?" said Miss Cecilia politely. + +"Well, no, I didn't," said Mr. Simlins. "How's a man to find five +hundred and fifty people all well? 'Taint nature. How's things with +you, Squire?" + +"Wheat's done well--corn middlin'," replied the Squire, while Joe got +behind his sister's chair and whispered, + +"There's another name in the diction'ry _sounds_ like your'n, though +they aint spelled just alike." + +"Goin' to school, Joe?" growled Mr. Simlins. + +"No _sir_," said Joe. "Mr. Linden teached me all he knowed in a +jiffy,--and all I know, too." + +"Well--are the other boys learnin' yet?" said Mr. Simlins, as he spread +a slice of bread pretty thick with butter. + +"S'pose so"--said Joe,--"all they kin." + +"It's hard work!" said Mr. Simlins. "I feel it now! Never ploughin' +made my back ache like learnin'. I wonder whatever they made me school +trustee for, seein' I hate it like pison. But s'pose we mustn't quarrel +with onerous duties," said the farmer, carrying on sighing and bread +and butter and tea very harmoniously together. "I shouldn't mind takin' +a look at your last copy-book, Joe, if it would be agreeable." + +"O Mr. Linden kep' that," said Joe unblushingly, "'cause it was so good +lookin'." + +"He was so fond of you?" said Mr. Simlins. "How come he to let you go?" + +"I staid away," said Joe, drumming on the back of Miss Cecilia's chair. +"Cilly's got the rest of the copy-books--she likes the writin' too." + +"Joe, behave yourself!" said his sister. "Mr. Simlins knows better than +to believe you." + +"Did you ever get flogged, Joe, for bad writin'?" said the farmer. + +"Worse'n that!" said Joe, shaking his head,--"I've had to do it over!" + +"Now you've got to do it over for me," said Mr. Simlins. "You write +your name for me there--the best you kin--and 'Pattaquasset, +Connecticut'--I want to see what the new school's up to." + +"No"--said Joe--"I aint agoin' to do it. You ask one of the other boys. +It wouldn't tell you nothin' if I did, 'cause I learned writin' +afore,--and I didn't go to him but four weeks, besides." And Joe at +once absented himself. + +"Is it workin' as straight with all the rest of 'em as it is with him?" +said Mr. Simlins. "You and me's got to see to it, you know, +Squire--seein' we're honorary individuals." + +"Yes," said Squire Deacon, rousing up now Joe was gone--he had a +wholesome fear of Joe's tongue--"Yes, Mr. Simlins,--and it's my belief +it _wants_ seein' to--and he too." + +"Joe,"--said Mr. Simlins. "Ne-ver fear--he'll see to himself." + +"Here's some of _his_ writin'," said Joe, returning with a spelling +book. "All the boys gets him to write in their books." And laying it +down by Mr. Simlins, Joe took his final departure. + +"What do the boys want him to write in their books for?" growled Mr. +Simlins, surveying the signature. + +"I believe," said Miss Cecilia, "he is very popular in the school." + +"Well, Squire," pursued Mr. Simlins, "can Joe clinch this?" + +"He aint with me--if that's what you mean," said Squire Deacon. "A +man's writing don't prove much." + +"Don't go no furder," said Mr. Simlins assentingly. "Well Squire--if +_you_'ll go furder I shall be wiser." + +And freed from the fear of contradiction, the Squire had not the least +objection to going further. + +"He's not the man to have here," said Squire Deacon,--"I saw that the +first day I saw him. I tried him,--and he didn't toe the mark." + +"How did you try him?" growled Mr. Simlins. "I'd like to know how much +he's up to. _I_ haint found it out yet." + +"I tried him, sir," said the Squire, "I tried him with a classical +story. Now Miss Faith gave in at once, and said _she_ didn't know what +it was; but t'other one made believe as though he knew all about it. +And if a man aint classical, Mr. Simlins, what is he?" + +"I aint classical," growled Mr. Simlins again, "but then I don't set up +for to be. I s'pose that makes a difference, Squire; don't it?" + +"Some people's more than they set out to be, and some people's less," +replied the Squire. + +"Well,--does _he_ set up for to be classical in school? What does he +teach 'em?" + +"I reckon he sets up for 'most everything he ever heard spoke of, Mr. +Simlins. Teach 'em? why he teaches 'em out of all sorts o' superflus +books!" + +"Does!" said Mr. Simlins with a surprised look. "Our boys don't want +none o' your superficies. They've got their bread to make. Give us an +invoice o' them books, Squire." + +"Just you look at 'em for yourself, Mr. Simlins--then you'll know. Step +down there some day in school time and look over the boys. Now I can +understand figurs with any man, but _what's_ the use o' crosses and +straight lines and Vs turned wrong side up?" + +Mr. Simlins pushed back his chair and rubbed his chin. + +"Well Squire--you and me are trustees--what in your judgment and +opinion had we ought to do, in these precedents?" + +"Get rid on him--_I_ say," replied the Squire promptly. "Then here he +is, leadin' all the girls round town, and for all any one of 'em knows +he's a married man." + +"Humph I think so?--What do the folks say of him?" said Mr. Simlins. +"There's Mrs. Derrick--what does _she_ say of him--he's in her house, +she ought to have an idee. And Faith--now I'd take that gal's judgment +on a most anything--What do _they_ think about him, Squire?" + +"Never asked 'em a word," said the Squire stoutly--"nor heard 'em say +one, neither. But he gets fur'n letters all the time, Widow Stamp +says--and female writin' too. Who knows but he's got a wife in some +fur'n country?--or two"--added the Squire, without specifying where the +plural belonged. "I'm a justice of peace, Mr. Simlins, and this +shouldn't be let go on." + +Mr. Simlins looked up from under his brows with a queer look at his +host. + +"If he has _two_, he must want the school--bad!"--said he. "Well +Squire, I'll go along and see what can be done. If I was you, mean +time, I'd not say much to no one. There's Judge Harrison, you know;--we +can't act without him. Good night t'ye! Squire, I guess he haint +_two?_--Anyhow, I wouldn't let fly no warrants till I saw my bird +sitting somewhere. It's bad to have 'em hit in a wrong place." + +And it was well it was darkish and nobody to look at him; for Mr. +Simlins went grinning pretty much all the way between Squire Deacon's +house and the house of Mrs. Derrick, where Mr. Linden was entertaining +his shadow in the moonlit porch. + +"Good even to you!" growled Mr. Simlins as he came up. The grin was +gone, and the farmer stood with his wonted solemnity of face and +manner. "Where's the rest o' your folks?" + +"The rest of _my_ folks are a good way off, Mr. Simlins," said the +person addressed, giving the questioner his hand; while his shadow +exchanged civilities with the shadow of Mr. Simlins. "When did you come +back? I am glad to see you?" + +"I'm glad to see myself," said Mr. Simlins. "There's no State like +Connecticut, sir. Where's _your_ bringin' up place? + +"No one place has had that honour, Mr. Simlins,--I have been brought up +from one to another." + +"Not Connecticut, eh?" + +"Not altogether--I am here just now, as you see,--getting a part of my +education. I am one of the Say and Seal people in a way. Won't you come +in, Mr. Simlins?" + +"Well--I'd as lief see Faith and Mrs. Derrick as a'most any other two +folks in Pattaquasset,--but they're a long ways off, you say?" + +"No further than the parlour, I believe." + +Mr. Simlins was willing to go as far as the parlour, and so the party +on the porch adjourned thither. A bright lamp lit the room, by which +Faith was mending stockings; while Mrs. Derrick sat in an easy chair a +little further off, rocking and knitting. + + +"Well," said Mr. Simlins, "when the sun goes down _I_ think it is time +to knock off work; but womenkind don't seem to think so." + +"I guess when the sun goes down your work's knocked off, Mr. Simlins," +said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Fact, Mrs. Derrick, when I'm to home; but when a man's visiting he has +to work night _and_ day. Moonlight's moonlight now. I declare, in +Jersey I thought it was broad sunshine.--You haven't been down to my +place yet, Mr. Linden?" + +"No sir, not within the gate." + +"The Simlins' have held that place, sir, off and on, for nigh three +hundred years. We're a good many Simlins'--and we're a good set, I'll +say it! a pretty good set. Not thin-skinned, you know,--we can take a +scratch without bein' killed--but we never would stand bein' trampled +on. We're soft-hearted too; plenty o' what I may call _tendrils_, ready +to take hold of anything; and when we take hold we _do_ take hold. We +cover a good deal of ground in the country, here and elsewhere--in the +various branches. My mother was a Mush, and my grandmother was a +Citron; a good families those, sir; can't do better than take a wife +from one of them, Mr. Linden, if you are so disposed;--you haven't got +one already, have you?" + +"_What_, sir?" said Mr. Linden, with more sharpness than he often +shewed, and which made Mrs. Derrick drop her knitting and look up. + +"I thought you wasn't a married man--are you?" said Mr. Simlins, the +grin just shewing itself again on his face. + +"Is that one of the charges brought against me?" said Mr. Linden, a +little too roused himself to pay much heed to Mr. Simlins' questions. + +"Well I didn't know as you'd think it a 'charge,'" said Mr. Simlins +with an unchanged tone. "I guess you mean to make it true some day, +don't you?" + +The question fell unheeded--the charge did not; it touched him deeply; +touched the proud sense of character; though no words gave evidence of +the fact. + +"Faith, child," said Mrs. Derrick in that moment of silence, her +whisper as low as she thought would reach across the table, "ought we +to be here?" + +But a very emphatic, "Yes!" from the window, prevented the need of +Faith's answer. + +"I was only recommending," said Mr. Simlins, "in case you wanted help +to make up your mind. The Citrons are all gone to New Jersey--there's a +few of the Mushes ramblin' round Connecticut yet. Well Mr. Linden--I +hope you and your boys get on commodiously together?" + +"Just look into that basket on the table, and see what one of em +brought him to-night," said Mrs. Derrick. "Those are Stoutenburgh +Sweetings, Mr. Simlins." + +Mr. Simlins looked at the Sweetings and then looked towards the window. + +"I'd like to hear you speak a little on that point," he said. "Fact is, +there's been some winds blowin' about Pattaquasset that aint come off +beds o' roses; and I'd like to find where the pison is and clap a +stopper on it for the future. It's easy done." + +Mr. Linden looked up with his usual expression, only the smile was +grave and a little moved, and answered, + +"I could say a good deal on that point, Mr. Simlins. Yet I had rather +you should ask the boys than me." + +"Don't want to ask the boys nothin', bless you!" said Mr. Simlins. +"What I want to say is this;--what's the matter between you and the +Squire? I've been askin' _him_, and he says you learn the boys to make +a V wrong side upward--I can't make nothin' of that," said Mr. Simlins, +with again the approach to a grin;--"'taint over easy to tell whether +_his_ Vs are one side up or 'tother. Now I'd like to know from you +where the hitch is. The Squire aint likely to set the Mong in a +configuration just yet--but if he's swingin' a torch round, I'd jest as +lief put it out afore the sharks fly." + +"But Mr. Simlins, don't you think it is rather hard measure to ask me +why people dislike me?" + +"Well--I don't see as I do," said Mr. Simlins placidly;--"'cause I know +pretty well it's some chymistry idee of his own; and if I could get +hold of it, you see, I should have a better handle. I guess the school +never went on better than it's goin'; _he_ don't know beans." + +"How do you know that I do?" said Mr. Linden smiling. "Why don't you +ask him? I think at least half his ill will arises from a mistake." + +"Have asked _him_," said Mr. Simlins--"just come from there;--but he's +pretty much like them V's we were speakin' about; don't spell nothin'. +What's his mistake about then? if I knowed that, I could bring things +to a concert." + +"Why," said Mr. Linden with grave deliberation, "suppose he wants to +buy your house? and takes a walk up that way to set forth his terms." + +"Well--suppose he does"--said Mr. Simlins attentively. + +"He finds you and Judge Harrison in the porch, you talk about the crops +and the weather, and he tells you he wants your house. What do you say +to him?" + +"I tell him I don't sell it to no one but a Simlins--nor that neither +till I can't live in it no longer myself." + +"Is that your fault--or Judge Harrison's?" said Mr. Linden, setting the +basket of Stoutenburgh Sweetings on the little table in the full light +of the lamp. "Miss Faith, if those are 'sweetenings,' they may as well +do their office." + +The farmer sat with his elbows on his knees, touching the tips of his +fingers together in thoughtful fashion, and softly blowing the breath +through his lips in a way that might have reached the dignity of a +whistle if it had had a trifle more of musicalness. + +"Is them the sort of lessons you give in school?" he said at length +without stirring. + +"Why?" said Mr. Linden with a little bit of a smile. + +"Ingen-uous," said Mr. Simlins. "It's as good as a book, Mrs. Derrick," +added he glancing up at the rocking chair, "is Squire Deacon wantin' to +buy your house?" + +"My!" said Mrs. Derrick, again laying down her knitting, "can't he be +content with his own? I hope he don't want ours," she added, some fear +mingling with her surprise. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "do you think if I gave you an apple you +would give me a knife?" + +"I hope he don't," growled Mr. Simlins as he rose up. "I never heerd +that he did. Miss Faith--them Stoutenburgh Sweetings is good eatin'." +Faith after setting a pile of plates and knives on the table, had taken +up her stocking again. + +"Yes Mr. Simlins--I know they are." + +"Then why don't you eat one?" + +"I don't want it just now, Mr. Simlins--I'd rather finish my work." + +"Work!" said the farmer taking an apple. "Well--good evening! I'll go +and look after my work. I guess we'll fix it. There's a sight o' work +in the world!" + +With which moral reflection Mr. Simlins departed. + +"There'll be more work than sight, at this rate," said Mr. Linden when +he came back from the front door. "Mrs. Derrick, how many stockings +does Miss Faith absolutely require for one day?" + +"Why I don't know sir--and I don't believe I ever did know since she +was big enough to run about," said Mrs. Derrick, her mind still +dwelling upon the house. + +"Miss Faith, my question stands transferred to you." + +"Why you know," said Faith, intent upon the motions of her needle,--"I +might require to _mend_ in one day what would last me to wear a good +many--and I do." + +"But, + + 'The day is done--and the darkness + Falls from the wing of night.'" + +"I never mend stockings till then," said Faith smiling over her work. +"Are Sam's apples good?" + +"By reputation." + +"I thought you were trying them! Why you asked me for a knife, Mr. +Linden--and I brought it." + +"I'm sure I gave you an apple. Perhaps you thought it was a ball of +darning cotton." + +"No, I didn't," said Faith laughing. "But what use is my apple to your +knife, Mr. Linden?" + +"Not much--it has served the purposes of trade." + +"But what is the purpose of trade, Mr. Linden, if the articles aren't +wanted?" + +"I see you are dissatisfied with your bargain," he said. "Well, I will +be generous--you shall have the knife too;" and Mr. Linden walked away +from the table and went upstairs. + +The parlour was very still after that. Faith's needle, indeed, worked +with more zeal than ever, but Mrs. Derrick rolled up her knitting and +put it in her basket, sighing a little as she did so: then sat and +thought. + +"Faith, child," she said after a long pause, "do you think the Squire +would ever take our house?" + +Faith hesitated, and the answer when it came was not satisfactory. + +"I don't know, mother." + +Mrs. Derrick sighed again, and leaned back in her chair, and rocked; +the rockers creaking in rather doleful sympathy with her thoughts. Then +an owl on a tree before the door hooted at the world generally, though +Mrs. Derrick evidently thought his remarks personal. + +"I can't think why he should do that to-night, of all nights in the +year!" she said, sitting straight up in her chair. "It never did mean +good. Faith--what should we do if he did?"--this time she meant the +Squire, not the owl. + +"Mother!"--said Faith, and then she spoke in her usual tone.--"We'd +find a way." + +"Well!--" said Mrs. Derrick, rocking back and forth. Then she started +up. "We've got to have biscuits for breakfast, whether or no! It's good +I remembered 'em!" And she hurried out of the room, coming back to kiss +Faith and say, + +"Don't fret, pretty child, whatever happens. Go to bed and to +sleep,--I'll make the biscuit." And alert and busy she left the parlour. + +Faith's sleep was quiet, but not unbroken. For at that time when all +well-disposed people, young or old, are generally asleep (in such a +well-ordered community as Pattaquasset) it pleased the younger portion +of said community to be awake. Yet they were well-disposed--and also +ill! For repairing in a body to Mrs. Derrick's house they gave her nine +cheers for her lodger,--thence departing to Squire Deacon's, they gave +him as many groans as he could reasonably want for himself. After which +the younger part of the community retired in triumph. + +It was said, by one adventurous boy, that falling in with Mr. Simlins +they impressed him--that his voice helped on the cheers, but not the +groans: and indeed the whole story needs confirmation. + +Faith heard the groans but faintly, owing to the distance, but the +cheers were tremendous. + +It is painful to add that Joe Deacon was vociferous in both parties. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + +"I hope your rest was disturbed last night," said Faith rather gaily, +as she came in to the breakfast-table with a plate of biscuits and set +them down before Mr. Linden. + +"Thank you! you have reason to be quite satisfied in that respect." + +"But did you hear them after they left our house?" + +"I heard them--really or in imagination--all night, thank you again, +Miss Faith--and am as sleepy this morning as you can desire." + +"It wasn't I," said Faith. "Now what notice, Mr. Linden, will you think +it proper to take of such a proceeding?" + +"That was one thing which kept me awake." + +"But as you are sleepy now, I suppose the point is decided?" + +"You are as quick at conclusions as Johnny Fax," said Mr. Linden +smiling, "who always supposes that when I am not using my pen myself I +am quite ready to let him have it." + +"Does he get it?" + +"What should you advise?" + +"O Mr. Linden!" said Faith,--"I should advise you to do--just what you +do!" + +"Unsound!" he said,--"I thought you were a better adviser. But about +this matter of the boys--I shall probably read them a lecture, wherein +I shall set forth the risk they run of getting sick by such exposure to +the night air; also the danger I am in of being sent away from my +present quarters, because ladies prefer sleep to disturbance. Having +thus wrought up their feelings to the highest pitch, I shall give them +a holiday and come home to dinner." + +Faith laughed her little low laugh of pleasure; at least it always +sounded so. It might be pleasure at one thing or at another; but it was +as round and sweet a tone of merry or happy acknowledgment, as is ever +heard in this world of discordances. + +"But are you really sleepy, sir?" said Mrs. Derrick. "I'm so sorry! I +thought they were doing nothing but good. I never once thought of their +waking you up." + +Mr. Linden laughed too, a little. + +"I shall get waked up"--he said,--"in the course of the day. Unless +somebody has drugged my coffee." + +"Judge Harrison was here this morning, Mr. Linden, with a message for +you," said Faith. "Mother, will you tell Mr. Linden what Judge Harrison +said?" + +"I'd rather hear you, child, by half," said her mother, with a smile +whereon the house cast a little shadow. "Tell him yourself, Faith." And +Mrs. Derrick sighed, and took her napkin and rubbed off a spot on the +coffeepot. + +"Judge Harrison came--" said Faith, and paused. + +"And went away"--said Mr. Linden. + +"Yes," said Faith. "He stopped on his way somewhere, and came into the +kitchen to talk to us. He said he would like, if you would like it, he +would like to have a great exhibition of the boys--he knows about the +school, he says, and there hasn't been such a school in Pattaquasset +since he has been here himself; and he would like to shew it up to the +whole town. So if Mr. Linden approved of it, Judge Harrison said, he +would have a gathering of all the countryside in some nice place--the +Judge has plenty of ground and can get anybody else's besides; and the +boys should have a great examination, and after that there should be an +entertainment under the trees, for boys and all. And he wanted mother +to speak to Mr. Linden, and see whether he would like it. And mother +wouldn't," said Faith as she finished. + +Mr. Linden raised his eyebrows slightly--then let them fall and +likewise his eyes. Then sent his cup to be replenished, gravely +remarking to Faith that if she had any drugs, she might put them in now! + +"What kind of drugs would you like, Mr. Linden?" said Faith. + +"Any that are deeply sedative." + +"Sedative?" said Faith, with that look which he often drew from +her,--very earnest, half wistful, half sorrowful,--"I don't know what +it means, Mr. Linden." + +"It means," said he, his face relaxing a little, "'such as diminish the +physical energy, without destroying life,'--such in short, as might +qualify a man for the situation of a tame monkey on a pole." + +Faith's look changed to a sort of indignant little glance, and her lips +parted; but they closed again and her eyes went down to her plate. + +"What were you going to remark, Miss Faith?" + +Faith blushed a good deal, however the answer came steadily. "I don't +think any drugs would do that for you." + +"I am in a bad way, then," said Mr. Linden with unmoved gravity. +"Because if I survive this trial of what I can bear, I intend to +advertise for the afore-named situation. Have you heard of any vacant +pole, Miss Faith?" + +Faith looked at him with a grave, considering wonder, which gradually +broke into a sense of fun; and then she laughed, as she did not often +laugh. + +Apparently Mr. Linden was well enough pleased with such answer to his +words, for he not only made no attempt to stop her, but even remarked +that it was good to be of a sympathizing disposition. + +The day passed as usual; only of late it had got to be Faith's habit to +spend a good deal of time shut up in her room. It had never been her +habit before. But now, after going through her early household duties, +of which Faith had plenty, she used to be out of sight often for an +hour before dinner; unless when the dinner required just that hour of +her attention. Nothing was left behind her to call her down. Her dairy, +her bread and cake, her pies and cream-cheeses, her dinner +preparations--whatever the things might be--were all ready for the +day's wants; and then Faith was gone. After dinner it was still more +surely the same. Yet though all this was true, it was so quietly and +unobtrusively true that Mrs. Derrick had hardly observed it. + +It happened this afternoon that Faith lingered upstairs,--not until +teatime, but until she heard her mother call. Reuben Taylor wanted to +see her. He was at the gate. + +"I didn't want to disturb you, Miss Faith. I told Mrs. Derrick so. It's +only some clams,--which I thought maybe you'd like," said Reuben +modestly. "I left 'em in the kitchen." + +"Thank you, Reuben--I like them very much. Do you feel better than you +did yesterday?" + +"Yes, ma'am--" said Reuben rather slowly,--"I felt a great deal better +last night." + +"And to-day--don't you?" + +"Yes, ma'am," Reuben answered as before. + +"But not so well as last night? What's the matter, Reuben?" + +"Didn't you hear what they did last night, ma'am?" + +"To be sure I did, but what has made you feel worse to-day?" + +"Why you know, ma'am," said Reuben, "last night I forgot all about +everybody but Mr. Linden. But oh Miss Faith! I just wish you could have +been in school to-day for one minute!--when Mr. Linden came in! You +see," said Reuben, excitement conquering reserve, "the boys were all +there--there wasn't one of 'em late, and every one had a sprig of +basswood in his hat and in his buttonhole. And we all kept our hats on +till he got in, and stood up to meet him (though _that_ we do always) +and then we took off our hats together and gave him such a shout!--You +know, Miss Faith," added Reuben with a smile both expressive and sweet, +"basswood's a kind of linden." + +"And what did Mr. Linden do?" said Faith with a smile of her own that +very well reflected Reuben's. + +"He didn't say much," said Reuben,--"he _looked_ a good deal." + +"Well, you foolish boy," said Faith gently, "don't you feel well now, +after all that? What's the matter?" + +A heavy, shoe-leathery step came down the street--it was Squire Deacon. +Reuben knew who it was before the Squire came near, for he flushed up, +and for a moment stood with his back resolutely turned towards the +gate; then with an air as resolute, but different, he turned round and +bowed as courteously as he knew how--far more so than the Squire did to +him; for the combination of Faith and Reuben did not seem to fall +pleasantly upon Squire Deacon's organs of vision; nor indeed could he +have quite forgotten last night. + +"Reuben, come in," said Faith touching his shoulder and smiling,--"I +want to speak to you. But first answer my question--why don't you feel +quite well now? You ought, Reuben." + +"Yes, Miss Faith--I know I ought,--at least I oughtn't to feel just as +I do," Reuben answered. "Mr. Linden told me so to-day." + +"Then why do you feel so?" Faith asked with increased earnestness. + +Reuben coloured and hesitated. + +"Folks vex me--" he said in a low voice. "And--and Mr. Linden says I +love him too well if I'm not willing to let him go when God pleases. +And I know it's true--but--" and Reuben followed Faith into the house +without another word. + +"What do you mean about Mr. Linden's going?" + +"Just that, ma'am," said Reuben simply. "Because we can't make +ourselves feel well by thinking things are going just as we want 'em +to--he says that's not strong enough ground to rest on." + +"But does he talk of going away, Reuben?" + +"O no! Miss Faith I never heard him,--he only talked so to me because +of what other folks said." + +"Well," said Faith with a change of tone, "you're a foolish boy. You +come and see me whenever you get feeling bad again. Folks can't hurt +Mr. Linden. Now look here--Wait a minute, will you!"-- + +Faith ran upstairs; speedily came down again with a little blue-covered +book in her hand. + +"Is this the arithmetic you study?" she said softly, coming close to +him. + +Reuben took the book with some surprise in his face. + +"Yes, ma'am, this is the one." And he looked up at her as if to ask, +what next. + +"How far have you gone?" + +"I am through this now," said Reuben, "but some of the others are +here--and here." + +"Then you can tell me," said Faith. She turned over to a certain page, +far on in the book too, and putting it into Reuben's hands, said +quietly, + +"I am studying it, and I cannot make anything of this. Do you remember +how it was explained?" + +"The book's wrong," said Reuben, after a glance at it,--"I remember, +Miss Faith. See--it ought to be so--and so--" Reuben went on +explaining. "All the books we could get here were just like it, and Mr. +Linden said if he found any more mistakes he would send to Quilipeak +and get good ones. He shewed us how this ought to be." + +"That's it!" said Faith. "Thank you, Reuben. And you needn't tell +anybody I asked you about it." + +Reuben looked a little surprised again, but he said "No, ma'am," and +made his bow. + +It was Faith's turn to be surprised then, for stepping into the +tea-room to look at the clock, she found not only the clock but Mr. +Linden,--the former ticking sundry minutes past teatime, the latter +enjoying the sunset clouds and his own reflections, and (possibly) his +book. Mrs. Derrick, favouring the atmosphere of the little wood fire, +which had burnt itself out to coals and ashes, sat at one corner of the +hearth, taking up the stiches round the heel of her stocking; which +precarious operation engrossed her completely. Mr. Linden however +looked up, and took in the whole of the little picture before him. +Apparently the picture was pleasant, for he smiled. + +Faith's look was startled. + +"I am late!" she said with a compunctious glance at the clock. And as +soon as it could be made the tea came in smoking. As Faith took her +seat at the table she put her question. + +"When did you come in, Mr. Linden?" + +"About a quarter of an hour before you did." + +"By which way?" + +"Why!--by the door. It is simpler than the window." + +The next few seconds seemed to be employed by Faith in buttering bread +and eating it, but in reality they were used for carrying on a somewhat +hurried calculation of minutes and distances which brought the colour +in her cheeks to a hue of pretty richness. + +"Did I run over anybody in my way?" asked Mr. Linden. "What gives the +question its interest?" + +"I had thought you were out," said Faith quietly. + +"I know a shorter way to the store than you do," said Mr. Linden with +equal quietness. + +"To the store!" said Faith, eye and lip quite putting quietness out of +the question. + +"Yes, I found your footprints there the other day, and I have been +wanting to tell you ever since that it is not anything like so far up +to my room. Let me recommend that way to you for the future." + +Faith's colour was no matter of degrees now, for it rushed over temples +and cheek in a flood. And seemed inclined to be a permanency. + +"There you may take what you like," he went on, with a smile that was +both amused and encouraging, "and I shall be none the wiser--unless you +tell me yourself. If you do tell me, I shall be very glad. Now Miss +Faith--what shall we do about Judge Harrison?" + +Faith hesitated, and struggled perhaps, for it did not seem very easy +to speak with that deep flush on her brow; and then she said rather low, + +"I am not ungrateful, Mr. Linden." + +"Neither am I--but this proposal of his gives me some trouble. I think +if he would have all the fun, without any of the shewing off, it would +answer every good purpose and avoid all the bad ones. And if you will +intimate as much to your mother, Miss Faith, and persuade her to convey +the information to Judge Harrison, it will perhaps be the best way of +reply. Of course as trustee he has still the right of doing as he +likes." + +"Mother, do you hear?" said Faith, "or do you want me to repeat it?" + +"No, child,"--said her mother abstractedly; "I didn't hear, to be +sure,--how should I? Faith--what do you suppose makes Cindy break the +noses off all our milk pitchers?" + +This was an irresistible question. Faith's own face came back, and +during the rest of supper-time she was like herself, only with a shade +more than was usual upon her brow and manner. + +The short September day had little twilight to lengthen it out. The +cool western horizon still outshone the setting stars with its clear +light, but in the east and overhead others came out, 'silently, one by +one.' Mr. Linden went to take his evening walk, Faith to light the lamp +in the parlour, watched and gazed at by her mother the while. + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick, "what makes you stay upstairs so? I never +thought of it till I went to call you to see Reuben--but seems to me +you are up there a great deal." + +Faith smiled a little and also looked grave, as she was putting on the +shade of the lamp. + +"Yes, mother"--she said,--"I am." + +"What for, pretty child?" said her mother fondly. + +Faith was pretty, in the look with which she answered this appeal. Her +smile dropped its gravity, and only love came in to make the confession. + +"Mother, I am trying to learn. I want to be wiser." + +"Learn!" said Mrs. Derrick in utter astonishment, and rousing out of +her resting position. "Trying to _learn_, child?" + +"Yes, mother--what about it? I don't know anything; and I want to +know--a great deal!" + +"Why you know everything now!" said Mrs. Derrick. "What don't you know, +Faith?--_I_ should like to!" + +Faith smiled. + +"Mother, I don't know anything!"--and then she added more brightly, +"I've begun with arithmetic, for one thing." + +"Arithmetic!" said Mrs. Derrick; and she paused, and leaned back in her +chair, rocking gently to and fro, with a shade of soberness stealing +over her face. + +"You never did have much chance,"--she said at length, "because I +couldn't give it to you then. My heart was broke, Faith, and I couldn't +bear to have you out of my sight for a minute. But somehow I thought +you knew everything." And she sat still once more, looking at Faith as +if trying to reinstate herself in her old opinion. Nor altogether +without success; for with a little smile coming over her face, Mrs. +Derrick added, + +"You won't be any sweeter--learn as much as you will, child,--you +needn't think it;" and the rockers would have certainly come into play +again if Cindy had not opened the door and claimed attention. + +"I s'pose likely you don't want to go down to Widder Stamp's?" she +said. "'Cause she wants you to come. I'm free to confess she's got the +high-strikes wonderful." + +"Mother," said Faith, giving her one or two kisses as Mrs. Derrick rose +to prove the contrary of Cindy's supposition, "I shall be a great deal +_happier;_--and I am getting along nicely." + +Which sent Mrs. Derrick off in triumph. But when she was gone, Faith +did not take her basket of stockings, nor yet her arithmetic; but sat +down by the table with her head in her hands and sat very still. Still, +until Mr. Linden came in, laid one paper on the table at her side, and +sat down to read another. Faith's darning-needle came into play then, +and worked quick and silently. Mr. Linden glanced towards it as he laid +down his paper. + +"I see you evaded my question last night," he said,--"there could not +be such a _constant_ supply, if there were not also a constant demand." + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith, her colour a little raised and her voice +changing somewhat,--"I want to ask you something--if you are not busy +about anything." + +"I am not but you might ask just as freely if I were." + +"I couldn't," said Faith. She drew her hand out of her stocking and put +her thimble on the table. + +"Mr. Linden," she said without looking at him,--"a while ago, when you +were speaking of faith and a cloudy day, and I told you I wasn't like +that,--you said I must read the Bible then, and do what that said. I +have been trying to do it."-- + +Shading his eyes with his hand, he looked at her--as if waiting to hear +more. + +"And I don't understand it," she said.--"I don't know how to get on." + +"Do you mean, with the Bible? Is it _that_ you do not understand?" + +"I don't understand some things--I don't know exactly what I ought to +do." + +"In what respect?--where is the difficulty? Some things in the Bible +you never will understand, perhaps, in this world, and others you must +learn by degrees." + +"I don't understand exactly what makes a Christian--and I want to be +one." + +It was spoken low, and timidly; but Faith was in earnest. Mr. Linden +sat silent a minute, without changing his position. + +"A Christian is one, who trusting in Christ as his only Saviour, +thenceforth obeys him as his only King." + +Faith hesitated and thought. "I don't understand," she said folding her +hands, "--about the trusting." + +"Suppose there was something you wanted done too hard for your strength +but not for mine,--would you know how to trust it in my hands?" + +She bowed her head and said, "Yes!" + +"Suppose I consented to do it only upon condition that for the rest of +your life my will and pleasure should be your only rule of +action,--would the great work still be yours or mine?" + +"Why, yours," she said, still looking at him. + +"Cannot you see Christ--standing between God and man, offering his own +blood where justice demands ours, and with his perfect righteousness +covering our imperfect obedience? So 'that God may be just, and yet the +justifier of him that believeth in Jesus.' Can you apply any words? Can +you see that Christ only is 'mighty to save'?--Are you willing to trust +yourself in his hands?" + +Faith dropped her eyes for a minute or two, but the lines of her face +were changing. + +"I know what you mean now," she said slowly. "I couldn't see it +before." Then with a little smile she went on--"Yes, Mr. Linden, I am +willing. But what must I do?" + +"'Only believe--'" he answered. "Do what you say you are willing to do." + +"But," said Faith, looking at him with a face which certainly spoke her +near the 'little child' character which Christians do bear,--"there +must be something else. I must not be like what I have been. I want to +know what I ought to _do_." + +"Christ's own words tell you better than I can,--'My sheep hear my +voice, and I know them, and they follow me'--that is the description of +a Christian on earth. And then it follows--'I give unto them eternal +life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out +of my hand.'" + +There was silence; and then Faith said, + +"But how am I to follow him?" + +"How did the people do to whom he said those words when he was on +earth?" + +"I don't know!" + +"'They arose, and left all, and followed him.'" + +"Well, Mr. Linden?"-- + +"It is just such a following that we are called to now--only that it +must be in heart and life instead of actual footsteps. Just so must we +rise up from doing our own will and pleasure, fix our eyes upon Christ, +and follow him!" + +"But how are we to know--how am _I_ to know," said Faith, "what _I_ +ought to do?" + +"Study Christ's summing up of the ten commandments,--does not that +cover the whole ground? And then--do every little duty as it comes to +hand. If we are truly ready to do God's will, he will send us work,--or +if not-- + + 'They also serve, who only stand and wait.'" + + +Faith looked an earnest, wistful, sorrowful look at him. + +"But then," she said,--"I don't do anything well--how can I know that I +am right? You know what you said--of the two roads only one led to the +shore. I keep thinking of that--ever since." + +"A traveller in the right road," said Mr. Linden, "may walk with very +weak and unsteady pace,--yet he knows which way his face is set. Which +way is yours?" + +Faith's face was in her hands. But Mrs. Derrick's step just then +sounding at the front door, she sprang away before it could reach the +parlour. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + +The decision of Mr. Linden on the school question was duly communicated +to Judge Harrison; and the time fixed was Thursday, the fifth of +October. The place chosen, after much care, was the Judge's own house +and grounds adjoining, which were spacious enough, and afforded good +opportunity for setting tables and also for spreading them. So all that +was fixed; and all Pattaquasset was a tip-toe; and Mr. Linden submitted +to what he could not help, with as good a grace as he might. And +September was sliding off into October with the gentlest, sunniest, +softliest grace. + +With much the same sort of grace Faith Derrick walked up and down in +her mother's household; from the dairy where she made her butter, to +Mr. Linden's room which it was her care to keep in order; and where she +might if she chose amuse herself with Mr. Linden's books. If she did, +it was unknown to their owner; he surely found every volume lying where +he left it. There was chance enough for Faith, in his long absences +from the house; and the books offered temptations. There were a good +many of them, stowed in old-fashioned corner and window cupboards; good +editions, in good bindings, and an excellent very choice selection of +subjects and authors. There were books in various languages of which +Faith could make nothing--but sighs; in her own mother tongue there +were varieties of learning and literature enough to distract her. All +however that the owner could know of other hands about his books, was +that there was no dust upon them. + +Perhaps he had a mind to know more--or that there should be more to be +known; for about this time two remarkable things happened. One was, +that Faith found a little French book ensconced among the stockings in +her basket,--and the very next morning as Mr. Linden was setting off +for school, he stopped at the threshold and inquired-- + +"Miss Faith--whereabouts are you in Prescott?" + +That same colour flushed in Faith's face; it did not rise to her +temples this time, but glowed richly in her cheeks. She looked down and +up, and down; words seemed confounded in their utterance. + +"You do not mean that you have finished it already?" he said with an +excellent look of astonishment. + +"I have almost,"--said Faith. "Mr. Linden, how could you tell?--I don't +know what makes me do so!" she said putting both hands to her +cheeks,--"there's no shame in it." + +"I didn't suppose there was," he said smiling, and closed the door. + +Very oddly, in spite of morning duties, Faith's next move was to go to +her basket, pull out that little French book and examine it all over +inside and out. Not one word of it could she read, not one sign of it +did she know; what was the meaning of its place in her basket? Faith +pondered that question probably while her cheeks were coming back to +their usual tint; then the book was slipped back again and she hurried +away to help her mother with the dishes. + +"You needn't come, child," said Mrs. Derrick,--"what do you think I'll +make of such a handful of things as that? To be sure Cindy's cleaning +up to-day, but I'm pretty smart, yet. Go off and study arithmetic if +you want to. Have you got through that yet?" + +"Almost through, mother," Faith answered smiling. + +"Well why don't you go and finish?" said her mother. + +"Mayn't I finish these first?" said Faith, through whose fingers and +the towel the cups and saucers slipped with a dexterity that was, to +say the least of it, pretty. "Why mother, you were not so keen after +arithmetic the other day." + +"Keen after it!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"la, child, I don't pretend to be +keen. But I never could bear to see a thing half done,--I'd rather do +it twice over." + +There was something else running in Faith's mind; for after +abstractedly setting down one after another several saucers, polished +from the hot water and huckaback, she dropped her towel and flung both +arms round her mother's neck. + +"Mother!--there is one thing I want you to do--I want you to be a +Christian!" + +There was persuasion in the soft head that nestled against her, if +Faith's words lacked it. + +To the words her mother gave no answer, but she returned the caress +with interest; wrapping Faith in her arms, and drawing her down to the +next chair, as if--literally--she could not stand that. + +"Pretty child!" she said--and more than one tear fell upon Faith's +bright hair,--"you're the best child that ever was!--and always were!" + +"No, mother," said Faith kissing her.--"But will you?" + +"I don't know!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"that's what your father used to +say, Faith,--and I used to think I'd like to, to please him,--but +somehow I never did." + +"Never wished it for your own sake, dear mother?" + +"Yes--sometimes--when I saw him die--" said Mrs. Derrick. "Hush +child--don't say another word to me now, for I can't bear it." And +giving Faith an embrace which took off all thought of roughness from +her words, Mrs. Derrick rose up and went about her dishes again. + +And Faith tried to do as much; but the dropping tears were too fast for +her towel; her hand sought in vain to forbid their coming; she laid +down her work and went away. + +Truth however is always at one with itself, and so is right feeling, +and so is duty. Faith as well as her mother had plenty of business on +hand that morning; and it was not long before she was as hard at work +in the kitchen as if there were no other interests in the world. There +was bread to make. That was done. There was an elaborate chicken pie to +concoct for dinner, which Faith would not leave to her mother to-day. +There was a certain kind of muffins which Mrs. Derrick suggested Mr. +Linden would be apt to like, and which they had never had since he was +in Pattaquasset. To hear was to obey, and Faith compounded the muffins. +Then fresh yeast must be made, and Faith always did that. Let it not be +thought that Mrs. Derrick was idle while thus indicating floury fields +of exertion to her daughter. Very far from it. There was all the house +and all the rest of the dinner to see to; besides Cindy, who was one +woman's work. The butcher was to be met, and farm questions settled +with the farmer; and Mrs. Derrick was still deep in vegetables when +Faith quitted the kitchen. How much time she had left for study before +dinner it doesn't appear. + +After dinner, this day, there was small study chance--or at least small +chance to get books; for it was Wednesday,--and Wednesday was in every +Pattaquasset school a half holiday. Indeed that arrangement of things +extended beyond the schools; and on this particular Wednesday, Mrs. +Derrick devoted the holiday time to a far-off neighbour--declaring that +she "felt like a good long walk." And after her departure the +dreaminess of a warm fall afternoon settled down upon the house and its +inhabitants. Faith sat sewing by the parlour window, or +reading--stealthily; for Mr. Linden with his book sat in the porch not +three feet from her; but it is not too much to say that neither made +great progress. Who could read or work--or think--vigilantly, in that +hazy sunshine?--the very bees took a siesta on the wing, and rocked to +and fro in the soft air. + +About the middle of the afternoon a small white-headed boy was seen +revolving down the main street of Pattaquasset. I say revolving--for +the slight suggestion of a small stone in the road--or a spot of +particular dustiness--was enough to make the boy break the monotony of +his walk with a somerset; by which style of progress he at last arrived +at Mrs. Derrick's door, entered the gate and came up the steps. There +he paused and gazed at Mr. Linden. + +"What is your name?" inquired that gentleman, with the benevolent idea +of setting the boy's thoughts in motion in a straight line. + +"Charles twelf'" replied the boy promptly. + +"Charles twelfth!" said Mr. Linden. "Are there eleven more of you?" + +The boy put his finger in his mouth but brought forth no answer. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "are you the planet which has attracted +this small star out of its usual orbit?" + +Faith came to the door. + +"Who are you, little fellow?" said she, eying the dusty white head. + +"Who be you?" said the boy. + +"The centre of your solar system at present," said Mr. Linden. "Is that +the way satellites generally ask questions?" + +"What a queer man!" said the boy looking at Mr. Linden. + +"What a queer boy--" said that gentleman gravely. + +"What do you want?" said Faith, biting her lips and laughing at both of +them. + +The boy gazed at her, but he also gazed at the scraper!--and the +attraction of that was irresistible. Down went his white head, and over +went his dusty feet, and then Charles twelfth was himself again. + +"My ma' kep' your 'ma to supper," he said. "And she says you may come +too, if you want ter--and bring _him_. We've got lots o' pies." And +stimulated by this recollection, the boy turned without delay and began +his revolutions homeward. Faith ran down the two or three porch steps +and laid hold of the little invader. + +"Here! You Charles twelfth!--who are you, and where does your ma' live?" + +"She lives down to our house." + +"Where's that?" + +"Down the woody road--" said the boy,--"next after you come to Capting +Samp's blackberry field. There's sunflowers in front." + +"Then you are Mrs. Seacomb's boy? Very well," said Faith, letting him +go. "Mr. Linden, there is an invitation for you." + +"Is there a carriage road into Sweden? or do we walk?" he replied. + +"Sweden?"--said Faith,--"it is in the woods, two or three miles from +here. A woman lives there--the widow of a man that used to sail with my +father. My father was captain of a ship, Mr. Linden. Mr. Seacomb was +one of his mates, and very fond of him; and we go to see Mrs. Seacomb +once in a while. I don't think, perhaps, you would like it. It's a +pretty ride." + +"That is a kind of ride I do like." + +"But I don't know whether you would like it all. If you say so, I will +have up the wagon." + +"Thank you--_that_ I should not like. I prefer to have it up myself, +Miss Faith--if you will have up your bonnet." + +Faith's face gave way at that, and the bonnet and the wagon were up +accordingly. + +The way led first down the high road, bordered with gardens and farms +and the houses of the village--if village it were called, where the +neighbours looked at each other's distant windows across wide tracts of +meadow, orchards and grain fields. The road was reasonably dusty, in +the warm droughts of September; nevertheless the hedgerows that grew +thick in many places shewed gay tufts of autumn flowering; and the +mellow light lay on every wayside object and sober distance like the +reflection from a butterfly's wing. Except the light, all changed when +they got into the woody road. + +It was woody indeed!--except where it was grassy; and woods and grass +played hide and seek with each other. The grass-grown road, its thicker +grass borders--where bright fall flowers raised their proud little +heads; the old fence, broken down in places, where bushes burst through +and half filled the gap; bright hips on the wild rosebushes, tufts of +yellow fern leaves, brilliant handfuls of red and yellow which here a +maple and there a pepperidge held out over the road; the bushy, +bosquey, look which the uncut undergrowth gave the wood on either hand; +the gleams of soft green light, the bands of shadow, the deeper +thickets where the eye looked twice and came back unsatisfied,--over +all the blue sky, with forest leaves for a border. Such was the woody +road that afternoon. Flocks of little birds of passage flitted and +twittered about their night's lodging, or came down to feast on +wintergreen or cedar berries; and Mrs. Derrick's old horse walked +softly on, as if he knew no one was in a hurry. + +"'With what a glory comes and goes the year'!" Mr. Linden said. + +"And stays all the while, don't it?" said Faith rather timidly and +after an instant's hesitation. + +"Yes, in a sort--though to my fancy the other seasons have rather +beauty and splendour, while autumn keeps the glory for itself." + +"I think it is glorious all the year round," said Faith;--"though to be +sure," she added with a sudden check, "perhaps I don't use the word +right." + +"Yes, it is glorious,--but I think 'glorious' and 'glory' have drifted +a little apart upon the tide of human speech. Glory, always seems to my +mind a warm, glowing, effulgent thing,--but ice-peaks may be glorious. +The old painters encircled the heads of their saints with a 'glory' and +you could not imagine that a cold light." + +Faith listened, with the eyes of one first seeing into the world of +wonder and beauty hidden from common vision. She did not answer, till +her thoughts came back to the road they were travelling, and catching +her breath a little she said, + +"_This_ isn't a cold light." + +"No, truly. And just so far as the saints on earth walk in a cold +light, so far, I think, their light is less glorious." + +"I don't see how they can,"--said Faith timidly. + +"They do--sometimes,--standing aloof like those ice-peaks. You can see +the white garments, but no glory transfigures them. Such a face as +Stephen's, Miss Faith, is worth a journey to see." + +Faith thought so; wondered how many such faces he had seen. Her +meditations plunged her too deep for words. + +"What are you musing about?--if I may ask," Mr. Linden said presently. + +She coloured but answered, "I was thinking what one must be, to have a +face like Stephen's." + +"That is the promise, you know--from 'glory to glory.' 'From grace to +glory' must come first. 'What one must _be_'--yes, that is it. But it +is good to measure the promises now and then." + +Faith laid that last remark up in her heart, enshrining it in gold, as +it were. But she said nothing. + +"How is it with you?" he said turning his eyes full upon her,--"you +have not told me lately. Are the clouds all gone?" + +Her look met his, wistful, and simple as her answer. + +"I see the light through."-- + +"'Unto the perfect-day'!" Mr. Linden said, his smile--slight as it +was--bringing a sort of illumination with it. After a few minutes he +turned to her again. + +"Miss Faith, one whom Christ has called into his army should wear his +uniform." + +"What, sir?"--she said, the colour starting readily. + +"With the private vows of allegiance, there should be also a public +profession." + +"Yes,"--she said, "I suppose so.--I am willing--I am ready." + +Timid, modest, even shrinking as she was, more in view of the subject +than of her adviser, her face was as frank as the day. His hand quitted +the reins a moment, taking hers and giving it a sort of +'right-hand-of-fellowship' clasp, glad and warm and earnest, as was his +look. + +"I am not going to ask you anymore questions," he said,--"you will tell +me if there are any you wish answered." + +Her "Thank you" was a little breathless. + +For a while the old horse jogged on in his easy way, through the woods +and the fall flowers and the sunny glow; and the eyes of the two +travellers seemed to be busy therewith. Then Faith said with a little +timid touch upon her voice, + +"Mr. Linden--I suppose it was you that put a little green book in my +basket last night?" + +"Jumping at conclusions again!" he said. "What sort of a little green +book was it?" + +"I don't know! I suppose you can tell me." + +"Do you suppose I will?" + +"Why not? What did you expect me to do with it, Mr. Linden?" + +"Find out what sort of a book it is." + +"You know I can't read a word of it," said Faith rather low. + +"Look at that old house," said Mr. Linden. + +They were passing a cleared field or two, one of which seemed yet under +cultivation and shewed corn stalks and pumpkin vines, but the other was +in that poverty-stricken state described by the proverb as 'I once +had.' The house was a mere skeleton. Clapboards, indeed, there were +still, and shingles; but doors and windows had long since been +removed--by man or Time,--and through the open spaces you could see +here a cupboard door, and there a stairway, and there a bit of +partition wall with its faded high-coloured paper. No remnant of +furniture--no rag of old clothes or calico; but in the dooryard a few +garden flowers still struggled to keep their place, among daisies, +thistles and burdocks. The little field was bordered with woodland, and +human voice or face there was none. The sunbeams which shone so bright +on the tinted trees seemed powerless here; the single warm ray that +shot through one of the empty window frames fell mournfully on the cold +hearthstone. + +"Yes," said Faith.--"I don't know who ever lived there. It has stood so +a good while." + +The road grew more solitary still after that, passing on where the +trees came close upon either hand, and arched their branches overhead, +casting a deep and lonely shadow. The flowers dwindled, the briars and +rank grass increased. + +"As to 'Le Philosophe sous les toits,' Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, +touching the horse with his whip, "there are just two things to be +said. In the first place--with the help of another book or two which +are not beyond reach--you may make his acquaintance quite comfortably +by yourself. In the second--no, I shall not tell you the second,--that +you may find out by yourself too. There is Charles twelfth--and all his +subjects one might judge." + +For on Captain Samp's blackberry hill--albeit blackberries were bygone +things--a troop, a flock of children were scattered up and down, +picking flowers. Golden rod and asters and 'moonshine,' filled the +little not-too-clean hands, and briars and wild roses combed the +'unkempt' hair somewhat roughly. Whiteheaded youngsters all of them, +looking (but for small patterns of blue calico and nankeen) not unlike +a drove of little pigs. Next appeared an imposing array of sunflowers, +below which prince's feather waved in crimson splendour, and the little +brown capital of 'Sweden' stood revealed. Or I should say, partially; +for the house stood in the deepest corner of the shade, just where the +road took a sharp turn towards the sunlight; and Mr. Linden alighted +and tied his horse to a tree, with little fear that anything would +happen to him unless the darkness put him to sleep. + +"Charles twelfth has the best of it just now, Miss Faith," he said as +he opened the gate for her. "Why do people build houses where they +cannot see the sun!" + +They were met at the door by Mrs. Seacomb. + +"Do tell!" she said--"why if this aint you! But what made you come so +late? and how slow your horse did come when he was about it. I've been +watchin' you this age. Well Faith--I declare--you're as pretty as a +posie! And this is the teacher I s'pose--Guess likely you haint been +down this way afore, sir,--it's a good ways, and the road's lonesome, +but it's a fine place when you're here--so retired and shady." + +All Mr. Linden's command of countenance only enabled him to answer the +last remark with a strong affirmative. + +"Yes sir," said Mrs. Seacomb, "it is; and there's a good many of the +trees is evergreens, so the shade never goes off. I do s'pose, if I +could keep the children more to home they wouldn't get nigh so brown as +they do; but if I was to run out in the lot and whip 'em home every +half hour they'd be back again afore I could count one. Now +Genevievy--she does stay round under the trees a good deal, but then +she's fond of flowers. She'll be real glad to see you Faith, and so'll +your mother"--and Mrs. Seacomb at last got her visiters into the +parlour. + +The parlour was as brown as the rest of the house. The visiters had not +time to remark more particularly; for their attention was claimed by a +tall girl of about Faith's age, with a loosely built, strong jointed +frame, in as marked contrast as possible to the clean outline and soft +angles of the other. She shook hands very cordially with Faith, but +made a reverence to the 'teacher.' + +"Won't you take a chair, sir," she said, setting one for the gentleman. +"Aint it an age since we've looked at you, Faith! Your mother's been +here a long spell. Ma' was proud to see her come it. You haint been +here, seems to me, ever before!" + +"How do you do, Genevieve?" + +"I'm respectable well. Can't do nothin' uncommon, you know, down in +this 'eclusion. I guess it's as good to see company as blackberries. We +don't get it though.--I hope you don't mind a lonely sitiwation, sir?" +The last words with deep gravity and a bending head. + +"It agrees well with a contemplative mind," replied the gentleman, +resolving that the young lady should not talk 'high english' alone. + +"It does!" said Genevieve admiringly, taking him all in with her eyes. +"There is always something to look at to make you contemplate.--Then +you don't think it an objection, sir, to live so far away from society +as this?" + +"I have lived further away from society than this," said Mr. Linden. "I +have seen regions of country, Miss Seacomb, where you could not even +hear of anybody but yourself." + +"I declare!--And war' n't it awful still, sir?" + +"It was beautiful, still," said Mr. Linden. + +"I reckon it was!" + +At this juncture Charles twelfth made his appearance, and Mr. Linden at +once turned to him-- + +"Well sir--how are the Turks?" + +To which Charles twelfth, being taken much by surprise, replied, + +"They're pretty well." + +"Genevievy," said her mother, "if you'll make yourself agreeable, I'll +go hurry tea afore the rest of the children comes. They _will_ all come +to table, and there's so many." And Mrs. Derrick as in duty bound, +followed her to help. + +"I'll go tell 'em!" said Charles twelfth as Mrs. Seacomb went out. + +"No you will not"--said Mr. Linden,--"you will not go out of the house +again till I give you leave. Why don't you come to Sunday school and +learn to behave yourself?" + +"What else?"--said Charles twelfth. + +"What else!" said Mr. Linden,--"that will take you some time. +Afterwards you will learn all the lessons your teacher gives you." + +"Who'll he be?" said Charles twelfth coming a little nearer. "You?" + +"No indeed," said Mr. Linden, "I have quite enough to do now. I dare +say this lady will take you into her class--if you ask her politely." + +It was worth while to see Faith's face now, for the little stir and the +flush and the sweet gravity that was in it. Not so much as a glance +went to Mr. Linden, but leaning forward towards the young enemy of +Peter the Great, she said in her sweet tones, + +"Will you come?" + +Charles twelfth looked up at her rather earnestly, though his finger +was in his mouth the while; and then having ended his scrutiny gave a +grave little nod of assent, and moved round and stood at her side. + +"Look here," said Faith,--"don't you want to shew me how the sunflowers +grow in your garden?" + +"They bain't mine--" said Charles twelfth.--"I'll shew you my house--if +he'll let me go." + +That difficulty being got over, Charles twelfth trotted out of the +front door, and on through the long grass, to a remarkable edifice of +clam shells, broken earthenware, moss and corn cobs, which was situated +close by the fence. Faith commented and asked questions, till she had +made herself slightly familiar to the young woodsman's mind; and then +it was agreed that he should come Sunday morning bright and early to +Mrs. Derrick's and he and Faith would go to Sunday school together. By +the time this arrangement was thoroughly entered into, the summons came +to tea. + +"Now do just set down and make yourselves at home," said Mrs. Seacomb, +"and eat as if you were home too. Faith," she added in a good sized +whisper--"I did like to forgot all about it!--and your mother could +have telled me, too, but you'll do just as well,--does he always take +cold pork and potatoes to his supper?" + +Faith's eyes involuntarily opened; then as the meaning of this appeal +broke upon her she answered with a very decided "No, ma'am." + +"'Cause we've got some handy," Mrs. Seacomb said. "Now Mr. Simpson, he +staid with us a spell, and he couldn't do without it--if I had pound +cake and plum cake and mince pie for supper, it made no differ--and if +there warn't but one cold potato in the house it made none either; he +wanted that just the same. To be sure he was easy suited. And I didn't +know but all school teachers was the same way. I never had much +experience of 'em. Genevievy--just lock the front door and then the +children can't get in,--the back door is locked. I do take to peace and +quiet!" + +"Is Charles twelfth much like his brothers and sisters, ma'am?" said +Mr. Linden. + +"Well no--" said Mrs. Seacomb, dealing out blackberry jam,--"he always +was an uncommon child. The rest's all real 'sponsible, but there's none +of 'em alike but Americus Vespucus.--It's fresh, Faith--the children +picked the blackberries in Captain Samp's lot.--Charles twelfth does +act sometimes as if he was helped. I thought he took a turn awhile ago, +to behave like the rest--but he's reacted." And having emptied the dish +of jam Mrs. Seacomb began upon the cheese. + +"Which is Americus?" said Faith. "Is he older or younger than Charles +twelfth Mrs. Seacomb?" + +"Well he's older," said Mrs. Seacomb;--"_that's_ him," she added, as a +loud rattling of the back door was followed in an incredibly short +space of time by a similar rattling at the front, after which came the +clatter of various sticks and clods at the window. + +"I guess you won't care about seein' him nearer," said Mrs. Seacomb, +stirring her tea composedly. "Only don't nobody open the door--I do +love peace and quiet. They won't break the window, 'cause they know +they'd catch it if they did." + +"Children _is_ a plague, I do s'pose," remarked Genevieve. "Is your tea +agreeable, sir?" + +Which question Mr. Linden waived by asking another, and the meal +proceeded with a peace and quietness which suited no ideas but Mrs. +Seacomb's. At last tea was over; the ladies put on their bonnets again, +and the old horse being roused from his meditations, the party set +forward on their pleasant way home. + +Doubly pleasant now, for the sun was just setting; the air was fresher, +and the glow of the sunset colours put a new 'glory' upon all the +colours of earth. And light and shadow made witching work of the woody +road as long as the glow lasted. Then the colours faded, the shadows +spread; grey gathered where orange and brown had been; that glory was +gone; and then it began to be shewn, little by little, as the blue also +changed for grey, that there is "another glory of the stars." And then +presently, above the trees that shaded Mrs. Seacomb's retreat, the moon +rose full and bright and laid her strips of silver under the horse's +feet. + +Were they all exhausted with their afternoon's work? or was this +shifting scene of colour and glory enough to busy their minds? Mr. +Linden found his way along the road silently, and the two ladies, +behind him seemed each to be wrapped in her own thoughts; and moonlight +and star light favoured that, and so on they jogged between the shadowy +walls of trees tipped and shimmering with light, and over those strips +of silver on the road. Out of the woods at last, on the broad, full-lit +highway; past one farm and house after another, lights twinkling at +them from the windows; and then their own door with its moon-lit porch. + +The old horse would stand, no fear; the reins were thrown over his +back, and the three went in together. As Mrs. Derrick passed on first +and the others were left behind in the doorway, Faith turned and held +out her hand. + +"Thank you, Mr. Linden!"--she said softly. + +He took the hand, and inquired gravely, "whether she was taking leave +of him for the rest of his natural life?" + +Faith's mood had probably not been precisely a merry one when she +began; but her low laugh rung through the hall at that, and she ran in. + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + +Mr. Simlins stood on his doorstep and surveyed such portion of his fair +inheritance as his eye could reach from that point. Barns and outhouses +already in good order, Mr. Simlins favoured with a mental coat of +paint; fences were put up and gate-posts renewed, likewise in +imagination. Imagination went further, and passed from the stores of +yellow grain concealed by those yellow clapboards, to the yellow +stubble-fields whence they had come; so that on the whole Mr. Simlins +took rather a glowing view of things, considering that it was not yet +sunrise. The cloudless October sky above his head suggested only that +it would be a good day for digging potatoes,--the white frost upon the +ground made Mr. Simlins 'guess it was about time to be lookin' after +chestnuts.' The twitter of the robins brought to mind the cherries they +had stolen,--the exquisite careering of a hawk in the high blue ether, +spoke mournfully of a slaughtered chicken: the rising stir of the +morning wind said plainly as a wind could (in its elegant language) +that 'if it was goin' to blow at that rate, it would be plaguey rough +goin' after round clams.' With which reflection, Mr. Simlins turned +about and went in to his early breakfast of pork and potatoes,--only, +as he was not a 'teacher,' they were hot and not cold. + +Thus pleasantly engaged--discussing his breakfast,--Mr. Simlins was +informed by one of his 'help,' that a boy wanted to see him. Which was +no uncommon occurrence, for all the boys about Pattaquasset liked Mr. +Simlins. + +"Just as lieves see him as not," said Mr. Simlins--"if he don't want my +breakfast. Come in, there, you!"-- + +And Dromy Tuck presented himself. + +"'Early bird catches the worm,'" said Mr. Simlins. "Don't want my +breakfast, Dromy, do you?" + +"Had mine afore I started," replied Dromy. "But the thing's here. Mr. +Linden says as how we wants your nuts off o' them trees over to +Neanticut--and he says if you don't want 'em, why it'll fit, he says. +And if you do, why you may keep 'em that's all." + +"What's Mr. Linden goin' to do with the nuts, s'pos'n he gets 'em?" + +"_He_ aint agoin' to get 'em," said Droiny--"it's us;--us and him. You +see we did somethin' to please him, and so now he said as how he'd like +to do somethin' to please us, if he only knowed what it was. And there +wa'n't a boy of the hull on 'em as didn't say he'd rather go after nuts +than any other livin' thing whatsomedever." + +"And now I s'pose you're askin' for them particular nuts to please me. +It's a round game we're on," said Mr. Simlins. "How're you goin' to get +to Neanticut? same way Jack went up his bean?--won't pay." + +"He didn't tell--" said Dromy. "He don't say everything to oncet, +commonly." + +"When 'you goin'?" + +"Don' know, sir. Mr. Linden said as how we'd better go afore the nuts +did. And Saturday aint fur off." + +"Saturday--well! You tell Mr. Linden, if he'll send Reuben Taylor here +Saturday morning, he can take the big wagon; it'll hold the hull on ye, +and I guess I'll do without the team; and if he wants to go into the +old house and make a fire in case you want something to eat afore you +get home, there's not a soul in it and no wood nother--but you can pick +it up; and I'll give Reuben the key. Now don't you splice the two ends +o' that together by the way." + +Great was the stir in a certain stratum of Pattaquasset that day! Many +and startling were the demands for pies, cheese, and gingerbread, to be +answered on the ensuing Saturday. Those good housewives who had no boys +at school or elsewhere, thought it must be 'real good fun' to help them +get ready for such a frolic,--those who _had_ boys--wished they had +none! As to the rest, the disturbance spread a little (as disturbances +are wont) from its proper sphere of action. Two boys even invaded Mrs. +Derrick's peaceful dwelling, and called down Faith from conquering +Peru. These were Reuben Taylor and Joe Deacon; for Joe with a slight +variation of the popular adage, considered that 'once a scholar, always +a scholar.' Reuben seemed inclined on his part to leave the present +business in Joe's hands, but a sharp nudge from that young gentleman's +elbow admonished him not only to speak but to speak quickly. Reuben +modestly preferred his modest request, guiltless of any but the most +innocent arrangement of his words. + +"We boys are all going over to Neanticut nutting, next Saturday, Miss +Faith," he said, "and we thought as Mr. Linden was going, maybe you'd +like to go too--and we'd all enjoy it a great deal more." + +"There ain't room in the wagon," put in Joe--"but I s'pose you kin fix +that." + +"Joe!" said Reuben flushing up. "There's plenty of room, Miss +Faith--there isn't one of us that wouldn't find it, somehow. I could +walk easy enough, I know that." + +Faith flushed up too on her part a little, unconsciously; and asked who +else was going. + +"Sam _aint_"--said Joe, as if that was all he cared about. + +"Only the boys, Miss Faith," said Reuben with another glance at his +comrade. "But it's a pretty place over there,--and so's the ride. +There's room for Mrs. Derrick too if she'd like it," Reuben added,--"I +suppose we shall be gone all day." + +"It's very good of you to come and ask me, both of you," said Faith, +evidently in perplexity;--"and I should like to go dearly if I can, +Reuben--but I am afraid I can't. I am glad if the wagon's big enough to +hold you all without me. You'll have a great time." + +"You may say that!" said Joe--while Reuben looked down, disappointed. + +"We didn't know whether you would," he said--"but Mr. Linden said you +wouldn't be displeased at our asking. We asked him first, Miss +Faith--or we shouldn't have made so free. And you shall have some of +the nuts, anyway!" + +A little cheered with which view of the subject, Reuben made his bow, +and Joe Deacon whistled after him out of the gate. + +Faith looked after them, disappointed too. There was a grave set of the +lines of her mouth, and it was with rather a thoughtful face that she +looked down the road for a minute. Then remembering the volume of +Prescott in her hand, which her finger still kept open, she went up +stairs again and set herself down to finish her treasure. Faith's +reading-place, it must be known, was no other than a deep window-seat +in Mr. Linden's room. That was a large, old-fashioned room, as has been +said, with brown wainscottings and corner and window cupboards; and +having on two sides a pleasant exposure, the light generally made it a +winsome place to look at. Now, in this October weather, it came in +mellow and golden from a softened sun and changing foliage; the brown +wood and white walls and dark old furniture and rich bindings of books, +all mingled in the sunlight to make a rich sunny picture. + +There were pictures outside too and pleasant ones. From the south +window, straight down the street, the houses and trees and the brown +spire of the Methodist church stretched away--roofs and gable ends and +the enormous tufty heads of the elm trees that half hung over them. At +the back of these houses, the eye went uninterruptedly over meadows and +fields to the belt of woods which skirted at a little distance the line +of the shore from the Lighthouse to Barley Point--here and there a +break through which a schooner might be seen standing up or down the +Sound; elsewhere only its topsails might be discerned above the woods. +The western window took in the break where Barley Point lay; and +further on in the southwest a distant glimpse of the Sound, with the +little brown line of Monongatesak Point. The lane leading to the shore +ran off due west, with houses, gardens, orchards, bordering it and +spotting the country generally. A fair country--level and rich--all the +range west and northwest was uninterrupted smooth fields; the eye had +full sweep to the wide horizon; the dotting of trees, barns and houses, +only enriched it, giving the sweet air of peaceful and happy occupation. + +Faith's place was the deep low sill, or seat, of that western window. +There often Faith's book rested, while on the floor before it the +reader sat. This time the book was near finished, and a few more leaves +turned over changed the 'near' into 'quite.' Faith stood then +considering the books. The name of Prescott on another volume had +tempted her, for she had taken it down and considered the title page; +before settling to it, Faith laid her hand on one of another set not +yet much examined; a set of particular outside beauty. But what was the +inside? For Faith stood by the cupboard door, not looking here and +there, but leaf by leaf walking into the middle of the book. Faith +rested the volume on the shelf and turned over more leaves; and at last +dropped down by her window seat, laid the book there, put her cheek on +her hand as usual, a cheek already flushed, and lost herself in the +very beams of the afternoon sun. + +It might have been a dream, it might have been a vision (only that +_vision_ it was not)--it might have been reality; wrapped up in her +book, what should Faith know? Yet when some crisis was turned over with +the leaf, and the real world began to supplant the unreal, Faith +started up and looked round. Had she heard a step? a rustling of paper +on the table? The door was firmly shut, the shadowy corner near by had +lost the sunbeams, but was else unchanged; the table looked just as +before--unless--Had there been a letter lying there when she came +in?--Faith never could tell. + +The door opened now, however, and Mrs. Derrick entered--peering in +somewhat anxiously. + +"Why here you are, pretty child!" she said, "I began to think you were +lost! Mrs. Somers has been here, and so's Miss Harrison, and they +wanted to see you ever so much. I don't think that's a good cheese we +cut last night, Faith,--I guess I'll cut another." + +Faith was an image of innocent guilt; and without daring to ask if it +was tea-time, she ran down stairs. Her mother followed and stood by, +not with any thought of overseeing but for the pleasure thereof. + +"Well child," she said, "are you learning all the world up? What's in +the oven now?" + +"Don't you think that is good?"-- + +The question had reference to the freshly cut cheese, of which Faith +presented her mother with a small morsel. Mrs. Derrick +tasted--critically, but the first topic was the most interesting. + +"What's made your cheeks burn?" she said laying her hand softly against +the rose-colour. "If you're going to study yourself into a fever, +Faith, _I_'m not going to stand by and see it." + +"No fear, mother. I forgot myself. Is Mr. Linden come in?" + +"He must be--he always is by this time. Miss Harrison says the Doctor's +got back, Faith." + +Faith took up her cheese and walked in with it. The tea-table stood +alone. But the tea hour being come, and Mr. Linden known to be surely +there within five minutes of the tea hour, the tea was made--and not a +minute too soon. + +Faith was not on this occasion talkative, nor anybody else. The meal +proceeded rather silently. Spoons spoke in low tones, knives made +themselves busy; and Cindy put her head in at the door and withdrew it +with the mental ejaculation, + +"My! if they baint settin' there yet!" + +At this point Mr. Linden spoke. "And so, Miss Faith, you have no fancy +for nuts to crack?" + +Faith flushed a little and hesitated. + +"I didn't say so, Mr. Linden." + +"Have you any dislike to Neanticut?" + +"Not the least," she said laughing. + +"I dare not go further, and inquire as to the company. Don't you know +how to drive, Miss Faith?" + +"And what if I do?" said Faith. + +"Is there any insuperable objection to your driving Mrs. Derrick over +to Neanticut Saturday morning? It would be so comfortable to know there +were people there--and fires--in case it was a cold morning," said Mr. +Linden demurely. "I could send Reuben with you, and the key." + +"O that's good!" cried Faith clapping her hands. "Mother, will you go?" + +"Why don't I always, just where you want me to, child?" said her +mother. "I should like to go to Neanticut, besides. I haven't been +there this long while. But I guess you and I can open the house, Faith, +without Reuben Taylor." + +"After all, Mr. Linden," said Faith, "there is a great objection to my +driving mother over there,--because she'll drive me." + +"There is a great objection to your opening the house--for Reuben has +the key--or will have it; and keys you know, are matters of trust, and +not transferable. I don't know but Mr. Simlins would make an exception +in your favour,--but I shall not ask him." + +"I am glad to have Reuben along," said Faith. "And I suppose we must +take our dinner with us, Mr. Linden?" + +"I have no doubt there will be dinner enough from other quarters," he +answered, "but how much of it will be like Mrs. Seacomb's tea I cannot +say. I think it would be safe to take a very little basket--such as +would suffice for two ladies." + +"O with Reuben we can manage nicely," said Faith joyously. He looked at +her--pleased with her pleasure. + +"Don't make any grand preparation for me," he said,--"you know I must +eat in commons--for the same reason that I cannot offer to drive you +over." + +"Does that mean that you will have to take a piece out of everybody's +basket?" + +"As near as possible!" + +Faith shook her head, but made no further remark. + +Early Saturday morning, before any other steps had brushed the dew from +the grassy roadside, Reuben Taylor was on his way from the rocky coast +point where he lived to the smooth well-ordered abode of Mr. Simlins. +Receiving from that gentleman the key of the old house at Neanticut, +and having harnessed the horses to the big wagon under his special +directions, Reuben drove down to the village, put horses and wagon in +safe keeping, and reported himself at Mrs. Derrick's. All things there +being in readiness, that small turn-out was soon on its way; leaving +Mr. Linden to look after his own much larger consignment. And despite +the presence of Reuben Mrs. Derrick chose to drive; because, as she +said, "when she had the reins in her own hands, she knew which way the +horse was going." + +The road for awhile went on towards Mrs. Seacomb's, but passing the +turn into the woods kept on its uneven way to the ferry. The natural +hedges--all glittering with dew--shewed little colour but in the +leaves. The fair clethra and the sweet clematis had ended their short +reign and were gone, and high-coloured sumachs flamed out in +insurrection. Now the country became more hilly, and where the eastern +portion of Pattaquasset lay close upon the Mong, the road went down by +a succession of steep pitches to its shore Then the road ran on through +a sort of half drained marsh--varied in its course by holes and logs +and a little bridge, and then they were at the ferry. + +Now the ferry between Pattaquasset and Neanticut was--and is, as I +trust it will always be--propelled by wind power. No plodding horses to +distract one's eyes from the surrounding peace,--no puffing steam to +break with its discord the sweet rush of the water,--but a large, +flat-bottomed boat, a white sail, and a Yankee steersman. The only evil +attendant upon these advantages is, that the establishment cannot be +upon both sides at once--and that the steersman, like other mortals, +must take his dinner. This time it happened to be breakfast; for having +been much interrupted and called for at the hour when he should have +taken that refreshment, long Tim declared "he would have it now, and no +mistake!" The little fact that two ladies were waiting for him on the +other side, did not in the least affect his appetite or his +deliberation. + +"Faith," said her mother when they had waited about a quarter of an +hour, "if 'tother wagon should catch up we shouldn't get there first!" + +Faith laughed and said, "Well, mother!" + +"Well, child," said her mother cheerfully, while Reuben waved fresh +signals to the obdurate ferryman, "I'm sure I don't mind, if you don't." + +"He's coming out now!" said Reuben,--"or his wife is--and that's just +as good." + +And so it appeared; for a short vision of a red petticoat and blue +jacket on the other bank, was followed by the ferryman himself,--the +white sail rose up above the little boat, and she floated smoothly +over. Then Mrs. Derrick drove carefully across the boat bridge, and +long Tim pushed off into the stream. How pretty it was! the winding +river above, with its woody banks, and villages, and spires; and its +broader bends below, towards the Sound. They were about midway in the +stream when Reuben suddenly cried out-- + +"Look, Miss Faith!"-- + +And there came the great wagon, at not the slowest possible rate, over +the long marsh road. + +The first sight of the ferryboat and her freight was the signal for a +simultaneous shout from the whole wagon load--which long Tim took for a +summons to himself. + +"'Taint no sort o' use hollerin' like _that_," he said, with a little +turn of his steering oar; "'cause I aint a goin' back till I get +somewheres to go back _from_--nor then neither mabbe. I kin count +dollars whar they kint count cents, neow." + +And 'neow' the little wagon was beyond pursuit,--up the hill from the +ferry, on over the farm road, drove Mrs. Derrick--somewhat at the +quickest; until the old untenanted house rose just before them, and +Reuben sprang down to take the reins and help the ladies out. + +It was a pleasant old farmhouse that, in spite of its deserted +condition. They went to the kitchen, bright with windows looking out to +grass fields and trees. Mrs. Derrick stood at open door and window, +recalling scenes and people she remembered there, or watching for the +big wagon to make its appearance; while Reuben and Faith went to the +outhouses, and finally by dint of perseverance found a supply of wood +in an old rotten tumbled-down fence. Mrs. Derrick proclaimed that the +wagon was coming, as the foragers returned; but there was a splendid +blaze going up chimney before the aforesaid conveyance drew up at the +door, and the whole first party turned out to see it unload. + +The wagon was unloaded in the twinkling of an eye; then came rummaging +for baskets; then so many boys and so many baskets hopped and hummed +round, like a little bevy of wasps--with nothing at least of the bee +business-character about them. + +"Mr. Linden, be we going to stop here?"-- + +"Is here where the trees be, Mr. Linden?"-- + +"Mr. Linden, Joe Deacon aint behaving nohow!" + +"Mr. Linden, will we leave our baskets and come back to the house? or +will they be to go along?"--inquired a more sober tongue. + +While others were giving their opinion in little asides that it was +'prime'--and 'fust-rate'--and arguing the comparative promise of +chestnut and hickory trees. And one of the bigger boys of the party, +_not_ distinguished for his general good qualities, sidling up to +Reuben, accosted him under breath with a sly, + +"So you druv Mr. Linden's sweetheart. Aint you spry!" + +If Reuben had been in that line, he would probably have sent the +offender head first down the bank,--as it was, he said quietly, + +"I wouldn't let Mr. Linden hear me say that, Phil, if I was you." + +"Don't mean ter. Aint you great! But I say,--Joe Deacon says you did." + +"Joe Deacon's made a mistake for once in his life," said Reuben rather +contemptuously--"and it isn't the first, by several." + +"Reuben," said Mr. Linden approaching the group, "you may all go and +find where the best trees are, and then come back and report to me. I +put you in charge. Understand"--he added, raising his voice a little, +"Reuben Taylor is leader of the search--whoever does not obey his +orders, does not obey mine."--And in a minute the courtyard was clear. +Then Mr. Linden turned and walked up to the house. + +"Now what are you ladies going to do with yourselves?" he said. "Will +you come out and sit under the trees and look on--taking the chance of +being hit by a stray nut now and then?" + +"We can't go wrong to-day," said Faith, with whom the spirit of +enjoyment was well at play. "When mother feels in the mood of it we'll +come. We can find you--we know where to look. Weren't you obliged to us +for doing the waiting at the ferry?" + +"And for looking so picturesque in the distance,--it was quite a thing +to be grateful for. I think you will have no difficulty in finding +where we are--there will be noise enough to guide you. I hope you have +not brought a book along, Miss Faith." + +"Why, Mr. Linden?" + +"The 'running' brooks are good letter-press," he said--"and the grey +stones, and that white oak in the meadow. And is not that woodpecker a +pretty illustration?" + +"I have looked at them often," said Faith. "I don't know how to _read_ +them as you do. There isn't any brook here, though, that I know of, but +Kildeer river. You'll like Neanticut, Mr. Linden. I'm so glad you let +us come. I'll read everything--that I can." + +"I don't know how long everything'll last you, child--at the rate +you've gone on lately," said Mrs. Derrick who stood in the doorway. + +Faith smiled again, and shook her head a little at the same time as her +eye went from the woodpecker to the green leaves above his head, then +to the bright red of some pepperidge trees further off, to the lush +grass of the meadow, and on to the soft brownish, reddish, golden hues +of distant woodland. Her eye came back as from a book it would take +long to read thoroughly. + +"I am so glad it is such a day!" she repeated. + +"I see my boys are coming back," Mr. Linden said, with a smile which +hardly belonged to them,--"I must go and get their report. Au revoir, +Miss Faith." And he went forward into the midst of the little swarm--so +manageable in his hands, so sure to sting anybody else. + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick, looking over Faith's head from her more +elevated position of the door-sill (looking _at_ it too); "Child, why +don't you get--" and there, for the first and last time in her life, +Mrs. Derrick stopped short in the middle of a sentence. + +"What, mother?" + +But Mrs. Derrick replied not. + +"What do you want me to get, mother?" + +"I don't know as I want you to get anything,--child you've got enough +now for me. Not that he wouldn't like it, either," said Mrs. Derrick +musingly--"because if he wouldn't, _I_ wouldn't give much for him. But +I guess it's just as well not." And Mrs Derrick stroked her hand fondly +over Faith's head, and told her that if she stood out there without a +bonnet she would get sunburnt. + +"But mother!" said Faith at this enigmatical speech, "what do you mean? +_Who_ wouldn't like _what?_" + +"What does it signify, child?--since I didn't say it?" + +"But mother," persisted Faith gently, "what had I better get that I +haven't?" + +"I don't know as you _had_ better get it, child--and I never said he +wouldn't like it, I'm sure," said Mrs. Derrick with a little +self-vindication. + +"Who, mother?" + +"Why--nobody," said Mrs. Derrick,--"who's talking of anybody?" + +"Dear mother," said Faith, "don't you mean to tell me what you mean?" + +"I guess it's just as well not," her mother repeated. "The fact that +he'd like it don't prove anything." + +Faith looked at her, coloured a little, laughed a little, and gave up +the point. + +The morning passed on its pleasant way in quietness; at least with the +old farmhouse and its two occupants. Mrs. Derrick was not without her +knitting, and having come from the door sat comfortably click-clacking +her needles together--and her thoughts too perhaps--before the cheerful +blaze of the fence sticks. Faith _had_ a book with her--a little +one--with which she sat in the kitchen doorway, which looked towards +the direction the nut party had taken; and apparently divided her +attention between that volume and the one Mr. Linden had recommended. +For she looked down at the one and looked off at the other by turns, in +a sort of peaceful musing and note-taking, altogether suited to the +October stillness and beauty. Now and then she got up to replenish the +fire. And then the beauty and her musing got the better of the reading, +and Faith sat with her book in her hand, looking out into the +dream-provoking atmosphere. No sound came from the far-off nut trees; +the crickets and grasshoppers and katydids alone broke the stillness of +the unused farm. Only they moved, and the wind-stirred leaves, and the +slow-creeping shadows. + +When these last were but an hour's length from the tree stems, Faith +proposed an adjournment to the nut trees before the party should come +back to lunch. The fire was mended, the pot of coffee put on to warm; +and they locked the door and set out. + +It was not hot that day, even under the meridian sun. They crossed an +orchard, and one or two farm fields, on the skirts of which grew single +trees of great beauty. White oaks that had seen hundreds of years, yet +stood in as fresh and hale green youth as the upstart of twenty; +sometimes a hemlock or a white pine stretching its lithe branches far +and wide and generously allowed to do so in despite of pasture and +crops. Then came broken ground, and beyond this a strip of fallow at +the further border of which stood a continuous wall of woodland, being +in fact the crest of the bank of the little river Faith had referred to. + +And now, and truly for one or two fields before, the shouts and cries +of the nut-hunters rang through the air. For just edging, and edging +into, the border of trees last spoken of, were the great chestnuts and +hickories; and underneath and among them many little dark spots were +flying about; which spots, as Mrs. Derrick and Faith came up, enlarged +into the familiar outlines of boys' caps, jackets, and trowsers, and +ran about on two legs apiece. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +The two ladies paused at a safe distance,--there seemed to be nothing +but boys astir--boys and nuts; and these last not dropping from the +tree, but thrown from hand to hand (hand to head would be more correct) +of the busy throng. Some picking up, some throwing stones to bring +down, others at some flat stone 'shucking,' others still filling their +baskets. And four boys out of five, cracking and eating--whatever else +they were about. The grass, trodden down by the many feet, lay in +prostrate shadow at the foot of the great tree; and the shadows of +other trees fell and met in soft wavy outline. From the side of one old +tree a family of grey squirrels looked out, to see the besiegers lay +waste the surrounding country; in the top of another--a tall hickory, +full clad with golden leaves, Mr. Linden sat--to view the same country +himself; well knowing that he had given the boys full occupation for at +least fifteen minutes. He was not very visible from below, so thickly +did the gold leaves close him in; but Faith heard one of the boys call +out, + +"You Johnny Fax! if you throw stones in _that_ tree, you'll hit Mr. +Linden." + +"Trust Johnny Fax for not never throwin' so high as _he_ is," said Joe +Deacon. + +"I don't _want_ to--" said Johnny Fax--"I don't want to fetch _him_ +down." + +Whereupon there was a general shout, and "Guess you'd better not, +Johnny!"--"He might come, if you didn't just hit him," vociferated from +various quarters. + +"My!" Mrs. Derrick said, surveying the golden hickory, "how on earth +did he ever get up?--And how _do_ you s'pose, Faith, he'll ever get +down!" + +Faith's low laugh was her only answer; but it would have told, to +anybody who could thoroughly have translated it, Faith's mind on both +points. + +Apparently he was in no haste to come down--certainly meant to send the +nuts first; for a sudden shower of hickory nuts and leaves swept away +every boy from the tree near which Faith and her mother stood, and +threw them all into its vortex. Drop, drop, the nuts came down, with +their sweet patter upon the grass; while the golden leaves fell singly +or in sprays, or floated off upon the calm air. + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick, "how pretty it is! I haven't seen such a +sight since--since a long while ago," she added with a sobering face. + +"I want to be there under the tree," said Faith looking on enviously. +"No mother--and I haven't seen it before in a long time, either. It's +as pretty as it can be!" + +"Run along then, child," said her mother,--"only take care of your +eyes. Why shouldn't you? I don't want to pick up nuts myself, but I'll +go down and pick you up." + +Faith however kept away from the crowd under the hickory tree; and went +peering about under some others where the ground was beaten and the +branches had been, and soon found enough spoil to be hammering away +with a stone on a rock like the rest. But she couldn't escape the boys +so, for little runners came to her constantly. One brought a handful of +nuts, another a better stone--while a third told her of 'lots' under +the other tree; and Reuben Taylor was ready to crack or climb as she +chose to direct. + +"If you'll come down the other side, Miss. Faith," said Reuben, "down +by the bank, you could see it all a great deal better." + +Faith seized two or three nuts and jumped up, and Reuben led the way +through the leaf-strewn grass to the other side of the mob. But mobs +are uncertain things! No sooner was Faith seen approaching the hickory, +though yet full three feet from the utmost bound of its shadow, than a +sudden pause in the great business of the day was followed by such a +tumultuous shout of "Three cheers for Miss Faith Derrick!--the +prettiest girl in Pattaquasset!"--that she was well nigh deafened. And +promptly upon that, Joe Deacon stepped up to Reuben and whispered, + +"_That_'ll fetch him down!" + +Faith did not hear the words--she only heard Reuben's indignant, + +"Joe Deacon! behave yourself. What makes you always leave your manners +home? that big basket of yours would have held 'em all, easy." + +"I didn't know but Sam might want 'em," replied the unabashed Joe, +dashing back into the midst of his compardons, while Reuben at last +reached the pretty look-out at the edge of the woods where Faith could +see the whole meadow and its scattered trees. And having placed her +there ran off again. Standing half hidden by the oaks and chestnuts, +she could see the whole group clustering about the climber now, for he +had come down from his high post. + +"Boys," he said, "I am going back to the house to dinner. Any boy who +prefers nuts to dinner may stay and pick them up." + +A sudden recollection came over Faith that her fire was probably well +down and coffee not in a state presentable. Taking a survey of the +ground, and calculating that so large a company would want a little +time to get under weigh, she slipped round to where her mother sat, and +giving her a word, set off fleetly and skilfully under cover of some +outstanding chestnuts across the fallow. If she had known it, Faith +need not have shunned to shew her running, for prettier running could +not be. She was soon hidden in the further woodland. + +The rest of the party took it more leisurely, so their outrunner easily +gained her point; and having put the fire in order stood at the door to +watch the progress of the coming invasion. It looked enough like that. +For though excellent order of march had been kept for most of the way, +the main body of the troops maintaining a proper position in the rear +of their captain who was quietly escorting Mrs. Derrick over the +meadows, no sooner did the whole band come in sight of the distant +place of lunch baskets, than it became manifest for the hundred +thousandth lime that liberty too long enjoyed leads to license. +Scattering a little from the direct line of march, the better to cover +their purpose or evade any check thereto, as if by concert, first one +and then another set off on a run,--sprang the orchard fence,--and by +the time the mid-orchard was reached all of Mr. Linden's force with the +exception of one or two of the very steadiest, were ahead of him and +straining in full run, if not in full cry, for the now near-at-hand +farmhouse quarry. Beyond all call or hindrance. Standing at the kitchen +door, Faith watched their coming; but discerning beyond the runners the +one or two figures that did not indeed 'bring up the rear' but that +covered it, and supposing that the invaders' object was to storm the +wagon in which the lunch baskets were hid, she stood her ground; till +she perceived that the foremost of the band were making straight for +the kitchen door, and all the rest in their order. Faith gave back a +little and the whole horde poured in. The fire was in a brisk blaze; +the table had nice white cups and naperies on it; the nose of the +coffee-pot was steaming. It looked altogether an inviting place. Down +went hats and caps on the floor, from some of the party, and the whole +of them with flushed faces and open mouths took the survey. + +"Ain't it jolly here!" + +"I wonder if he'll let us take our dinner in here. There's lots o' +room." + +"It's good shady." + +"It's a long sight better under the trees." + +"Coffee!--I'm blessed!"--said a fifth speaker bending over the +fireplace; while a sixth began slyly to inspect what lay under Faith's +napkins on the table. + +"Charley," said Mr. Linden's quiet voice from the doorway, "did Miss +Derrick desire you to uncover her dishes?" + +The hand slipped from what it touched, as stealthily the boy's eye went +to the face of the speaker, in the one place if not in the other 'to +see what there might be.' + +"I will bear witness that you have 'carried' the house," Mr. Linden +went on,--"now I should like to see you carry the wagon. It will be a +more useful enterprise than this. Only remember that one of the first +duties of a surprise party is to go forth softly." + +"Where will we carry the wagon to, sir?" inquired one of the party. + +"As far from the house as you can," said Mr. Linden, with a little +glance at Faith. "Come! be off!--great enterprises are never finished +till they are begun." + +"I'd like to begin dinner, anyhow," said one, catching up his cap and +leading off. + +As quick and more quick than it had been filled, the room was cleared; +and laughing Faith watched the busy swarm as they poured towards their +magazine. Then remembered her own and came back to offer it. + +"You may as well rest, Mr. Linden," said Faith as she offered him a cup +of coffee. "I'm sure _they_ are all comfortable. Besides, you +particularly desired a fire and somebody in the house, you know." + +"Miss Faith," he said, (taking the cup however) "I'm afraid your +notions of duty are very slack! What sort of a captain would you make +to a beleaguered city? I shall make you read the story of Catherine +Douglass." + +"Will you?" said Faith looking very pleased. "And what is +'beleaguered,' Mr. Linden? in the meantime." + +"'Beleaguered' means, to be beset with a swarm of invaders who want to +come in and ought to be kept out." + +"I didn't know I ought to keep them out," said Faith laughing, "or I'd +have done it." + +Mr. Linden shook his head doubtfully. "I saw you give way!" he +said,--"I doubt whether there was even a show of resistance. Now +Catherine Douglass--But I must go. No, don't tempt me with apple +pie--you have no idea of the pies in that wagon. Perhaps if I get +successfully through them, I'll come back and dispose of yours. What +are you reading to-day?--'Le Philosophe'?" + +A little soberness came over Faith's smile as she shook her head and +said no. + +"I can't stay to ask a question upon that--but I'll ask you two by and +by to pay for it." + +And he went out to that little cluster of life that hung about the +great wagon, making himself at once the centre of pleasure and interest +and even fun, as Faith's eye and ear now and then informed her. It was +pretty, the way they closed in about him--wild and untutored as they +were,--pretty to see him meet them so easily on their own ground, yet +always enticing them towards something better. Mrs Derrick thought so +too, for she stood in the doorway and smiled very pleasantly. + +"He's a real nice man, Faith," she said. "I don't wonder the boys like +him." + +Faith did not wonder at it, but she did not answer, though she too +stood looking. + +The ladies had finished their lunch, and Mr. Linden had perhaps _not_ +finished his, for he came in again to take another cup of coffee while +the boys were disposing of that very ragged piece of time which the end +of a boys' feast invariably is. So much peace and quietness he gave +himself, if he did not give himself a sandwich--of which I am not +certain. + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith, "I want to ask something--will you tell me if +you don't like it?" + +"Don't like to have you ask me, do you mean? I do like it." + +"Then," said Faith half laughing, "will you tell me it you don't quite +like what I mean?" + +"I'll see--" Mr. Linden replied with a smile. "It's not safe for +teachers to commit themselves." + +"But I must commit myself," said Faith. "I want to go and pick up nuts +with the boys under the trees--may I?" + +She looked for her answer with an eye that thought _he_ might possibly +find an objection where she saw none. + +He paused a little before he replied, + +"I think you may--if I could be among them and answer for their good +behaviour I should not need to think about it; but you know a man loses +power when he is too far above the heads of his audience. Yet I think I +may trust them--and you," he added with a little smile. "Especially as +the first tree touched this afternoon is yours." + +"What does that mean?" said Faith, her doubt all gone. + +"Do you think I shall so far forget my office as to let them pick up +nuts for nobody but themselves? Therefore the first tree this afternoon +is for you--or if you please for your mother; the second for Mr. +Simlins. If that will take away your desire for the 'fun,' why I cannot +help it." + +"I have no objection to pick up nuts for mother, not even for Mr. +Simlins," said Faith smiling. "And I am not afraid of the boys--I know +half of them, you know. Thank you, Mr. Linden!" + +"You might, if I could take you up into the tree-top. There is fine +reading on those upper shelves." + +Her eye shewed instantly that she liked that 'higher' fun best--not the +tree-top, verily, but the reading, that she could not get at. Yet for +Faith there were charms plenty below the tree-tops, in both kinds; and +she looked very happy. + +"Well"--Mr. Linden said, "as the successful meeting of one emergency +always helps us in the next, and as it is quite impossible to tell +_what_ you may meet under those nut trees,--let me give you a little +abstract of Catherine Douglass, before you read it and before I go. The +said lady wishing to keep the door against sundry lords and gentle men +who came with murderous intent against her sovereign; and finding no +bar to aid her loyal endeavours,--did boldly thrust her own arm through +the stanchions of the door. To be sure--'the brave lady's arm was soon +broken,'--but after all, what did that signify?" + +And with a laughing gesture of farewell, he once more left the house. +With which cessation of murmuring voices, Mrs. Derrick awoke from her +after dinner nap in the rocking chair. Faith was standing in the middle +of the floor, smiling and looking in a puzzle. + +"Mother, will you go over to the nutting again?" + +"I'm a great deal more likely to go to sleep again," said Mrs. Derrick +rubbing her eyes. "It's the sleepiest place I ever saw in my life--or +else it's having nothing to do. I don't doubt you're half asleep too, +Faith, only you won't own it." + +The decision was, that Mrs. Derrick preferred to sit quiet in the +house; she said she would maybe run down by and by and see what they +were at. So Faith took her sunbonnet, kissed her mother; and went forth +with light step over the meadow and through the orchard. + +The nutting party she found a little further on in the same edge of +woodland. It seemed that they had pitched upon a great chestnut for her +tree; and Faith was half concerned to see what a quantity of work they +had given themselves on her account. However, the proverb of 'many +hands' was verified here; the ground under the chestnut tree was like a +colony of ants, while in the capacious head of the tree their captain, +established quite at his ease, was whipping off the burrs with a long +pole. + +Faith took a general view as she came up, and then fell upon the +chestnut burrs like the rest of them; and no boy there worked more +readily or joyously. There seemed little justification of Mr. Linden's +doubts of the boys or fears for her. Faith was everywhere among them, +and making Reuben's prophecy true, that 'they would all enjoy +themselves a great deal better' for her being there; throwing nuts into +the baskets of the little boys and pleasant words at the heads of the +big ones, that hit softly and did gentle execution; giving sly handfuls +to Reuben, and then hammering out for some little fellow the burrs that +her hands were yet more unfit to deal with than his; and doing it all +with a will that the very spirit of enjoyment seemed to have moved. +_She_ in any danger of rude treatment from those boys! Nothing further +from the truth. And so her happy face informed Mr. Linden, when he at +last descended to terra firma out of the stripped chestnut tree. + +He did not say anything, but leaning up against the great brown trunk +of the chestnut took a pleased survey of the whole--then went to work +with the rest. + +"Boys!" he said--"aren't there enough of you to open these burrs as +fast as Miss Derrick can pick out the nuts? You should never let a lady +prick her fingers when you can prick yours in her place." + +There was a general shout and rush at this, which made Faith give way +before it. The burrs disappeared fast; the brown nuts gathered into an +immense heap. That tree was done. + +"Hurrah! for Mr. Simlins!" shouted all the boys, throwing up their caps +into the air,--then turning somersets, and wrestling, and rolling over +by way of further relief to their feelings. + +"The chestnut beyond that red maple for him," said Mr. Linden, flinging +a little stone in the right direction; at which with another shout the +little tornado swept away. + +"Will you follow, Miss Faith? or are you tired?" + +"No, I'm not tired yet. I must do something for Mr. Simlins." + +"Well don't handle those burrs--" he said. "They're worse than darning +needles." + +"Have you seen Kildeer river yet, Mr. Linden?" + +"I have had a bird's eye view." + +Faith looked a little wistfully, but only said, + +"We must look at it after the nutting is done. That's a bit of reading +hereabout you ought not to pass over." + +"I mean to read 'everything I can,' too," he said with a smile as they +reached the tree. + +"Now Mr. Linden," said Joe Deacon, "_this_ tree's a whapper! How long +you suppose it'll take you to go up?" + +"About as long as it would you to come down--every-one knows how long +_that_ would be. Stand out of my way, boys--catch all the burrs on your +own heads and don't let one fall on Miss Derrick." And amidst the +general laugh Mr. Linden swung himself up into the branches in a way +that made his words good; while Joe Deacon whistled and danced 'Yankee +Doodle' round the great trunk. + +Half at least of Mr. Linden's directions the boys obeyed;--they caught +all the burrs they well could, on their own heads. Faith was too busy +among them to avoid catching some on her own bright hair whenever her +sunbonnet declined to stay on, which happened frequently. The new +object lent this tree a new interest of its own, and boys being an +untiring species of animals the sport went on with no perceptible +flagging. But when this tree too was about half cleared, Faith withdrew +a little from the busy rush and bustle, left the chestnuts and chestnut +burrs, and sat down on the bank to rest and look. Her eye wandered to +the further woodland, softest of all in hazy veils; to the nearer +brilliant vegetation; the open fallow; the wood behind her, where the +trees closed in upon each other; oftenest of all, at the 'whapper' of a +tree in which Mr. Linden still kept his place, and at the happy busy +sight and sound of all under that tree. + +And so it happened, that when in time Mr. Linden came down out of Mr. +Simlins' chestnut, besides the boys he found nobody there but Mr. +Simlins himself. + +"Well!"--said that gentleman after a cordial grasp of the hand,--"I +reckon, in the matter of nuts you're going to reduce me to +penur'ousness! How you like Neanticut?" + +"It's a fine place," said Mr. Linden.--"And for the matter of nuts, you +need not take the benefit of the bankrupt act yet, Mr. Simlins." + +"Over here to see a man on business," Mr. Simlins went on in +explanation,--"and thought I'd look at you by the way. Don't you want +to take this farm of me?" + +"I might want to do it--and yet not be able," was the smiling reply; +while one of the smallest boys, pulling the tail of the grey coat which +Mr. Simlins wore 'on business,' and pointing to the heap of nuts, said +succinctly, + +"Them's yourn!" + +"Mine!" said Mr. Simlins. "Well where's yourn? What have you done with +Miss Faith Derrick?" + +"Why we hain't done nothin' to her," said the boy--"she's done a heap +to us." + +"What has she done to you, you green hickory?" + +"Why--she's run round, firstrate," said little Rob,--"and she's helped +me shuck." + +"So some o' you's thanked her. 'Twan't _you_. Here, you sir," said Mr. +Simlins, addressing this time Joe Deacon,--"what have you been doing +with Miss Faith Derrick?" + +"I bain't Sam," was Joe's rather cool rejoinder, with a slight +relapsing into Yankee Doodle. + +"Hollo!" said Mr. Simlins--"I thought you'd learned all school could +teach you, and give up to come?" + +"Only the last part is true, Mr. Simlins," said Mr. Linden, who while +Joe spoke had been himself speaking to one of the other boys. + +Mr. Simlins grunted. "School ain't all 'nuts to him,'" he said with a +grim smile. "Well which of you was it?--'twas a fellow about as big as +you here, you sir!"--addressing in a more assured tone another boy who +was swaggering near,--"_you!_ what have you been doing to Miss Faith? +It was you." + +"'Twan't me, nother!" said the boy surlily; "nor I hain't done nothin'! +but minded my own business." + +In a tone which implied that Mr. Simlins was not acting on the same +laudable principle. + +"What has been done?" said Mr. Linden. And certainly _his_ tone implied +that he was minding his own business. + +"Well," said Mr. Simlins, "I don't know as they've done much of +anything; but I guessed they'd been givin' her some sass or vexin' her +somehow; and as she's a kind o' favour_ite_ o' mine it riled me. I was +too fur to hear what 'twas." + +"Where was she? + +"She was round yonder--not fur--There had been some sort of a +scrimmage, I guess, between two of 'em, a little one and this fellow; +and she parted 'em. She had hold o' this one when I see 'em +first--_you_ couldn't have done it better," said Mr. Simlins with a sly +cast of his eye;--"you can set her to be your 'vice' when you want one. +I was comin' up from the river, you see, and came up behind 'em, and I +couldn't hear what they said; but when she let him go, I see her give a +kind o' sheer look round this way, and then she put up her hand to her +cheek and cleared for home like--a gazetteer!"--said Mr. Simlins, who +had given this information in an undertone. "Made straight tracks for +the house, I tell ye!" + +"A little one and _which_ one?" was the next inquiry. + +Mr. Simlins went peering about among the crowd and finally laid hold on +the identical shoulder of little Johnny Fax. + +"Ain't it you?" said Mr. Simlins. "Ain't that red basket yourn?" + +Johnny nodded. + +"I knowed the basket," said Mr. Simlins returning. "That's about all +that makes the difference between one boy and another! what sort of a +basket he carries. The other fellow is the one I was speakin' to +first--I can swear to _him_--the big one." + +Mr. Linden took out his watch. + +"Thank you, Mr. Simlins," he said. "Boys--it is half past four,--get +your nuts and baskets and bring them up to the house. Reuben Taylor--do +you see that it is done." With which words Mr. Linden also 'made +tracks' for the house--and 'straight' ones, but with not too much +notice-taking of the golden leaves under his feet. + +The truth about Faith was this. While sitting on the grass, taking the +pleasure of the place and time, the peace was at length broken by +discordant sounds in her neighbourhood; sounds of harsh voices, and +scuffling. Looking round for the cause and meaning of all this, she +found that the voices came from behind a thicket of sumach and laurel +at her back, and belonged to some of the boys. Faith went round the +thicket. There were a big boy and a little boy tugging at a casket, +both tugging; the little fellow holding to it with all his might, while +the big boy, almost getting it from him with one hand, was laying the +other very freely about his ears and shoulders. Faith heard the little +one say, "I'll tell--" + +And the other, a boy whose name Faith had learned only that morning, +shouted in answer, + +"You tell! You tell if you dare! You tell and I'll kill you!--Leave +hold!"-- + +A round blow was given with the words, which told, but the little boy +still held on to his basket. + +"For shame, Phil Davids! you a big boy!"--said Faith. + +There was a stay of proceedings while they looked at her, both parties +keeping fast hold however, and both tongues at once combating for +hearing and belief. The little boy, Johnny Fax himself, said the nuts +were his; which the elder denied. + +"Let him have his nuts, Phil," said Faith gently. "He must have +them--they belong to him." + +"He aint a goin' ter, though," said Davids,--"and _you_ can't do +nothin', if you air Mr. Linden's sweetheart. You air--Joe Deacon says +you be. Leave hold, you!"-- + +Thinking Faith quelled perhaps, Phil began the struggle again fiercely, +with grappling and blows. But Faith laid hold suddenly on the arm that +was rising the second time, and bade the boy sternly behave himself and +let the basket go. It was not immediately done. He had strength much +more than hers, but something withheld him from exerting it. Nothing +withheld his tongue. + +"Aint you Mr. Linden's sweetheart?" he said insolently. "Joe Deacon +says you be." + +"No sir!" said Faith; "and you are a bad boy." + +"Joe Deacon says you be!" + +But Faith did not relax her hold, and spoke with a steady voice and for +that time at least with a steady eye of command which was obeyed. + +"Let him go!--Johnny, run off with your basket and be quiet; that's a +good boy. Davids, you'll be quiet the rest of the day for your own +sake." + +The boys parted sullenly, Johnny to run off as she had bidden him; and +Faith turned from the green bank, the nut trees, and the frolic, and +laying one hand upon the cheek that faced that way, as if to hide its +burning from eyes too far off to see it, she went into the house. + +She put the brands together which had burnt out, and built the fire up +on the strictest principles, though no fire was wanted at present; the +day had mellowed into warmth. Perhaps Faith recollected that after she +had got through, for she left the fire to take care of itself and sat +down again on the doorstep looking towards the nut-tree field. For a +good while her cheek wore its troubled flush, her hand went up to it +once or twice as if to cool it off, and her brow bespoke her using +other and more effectual measures. It cooled at last, into complete +quietness and sweetness; and Faith's face was just like itself when the +first of the party came back from the nut field. + +That first one, as we have seen, was Mr. Linden. He found both the +ladies in the farmhouse kitchen; Mrs. Derrick very comfortably at her +knitting. Faith was doing nothing; but she looked up, when she looked +up, with just her own face; not certainly in the happy glow he had seen +under the nut tree, nor with the sparkle of busy pleasure it had worn +in the morning; but as it was every day at home. + +Mr. Linden arranged the fire and then stood considering it--or +something--for a minute in silence; until Mrs. Derrick inquired "if he +had found as much as he expected?"--but upon his replying somewhat +dryly, "Rather more"--the conversation dropped again. + +"You ought to be tired now, Mr. Linden," Faith said gently. + +"I am afraid you are." + +"No," she said,--"I am not at all." + +"Well then--why shouldn't we have our look at Kildeer river? You said +we must." + +"O, if you like it!" said Faith, a bright little tinge of pleasure +coming into her cheek, and her sunbonnet was in hand immediately. "But +aren't you tired?" she added doubtfully as they were passing out of the +door. "You've been hard at work." + +"You will have to pay for saying you are not, Miss Faith,--I mean to +make you run all the way down to the bank." + +And holding out his hand to her, Mr. Linden half made his threat good; +for though his own pace was not much more than a quick walk, by means +of skilful short cuts and long steps, Faith had a gentle little run a +good part of the way. Not down through the crowd of boys and baskets, +but skirting the meadow--passing from the shelter of one great tree to +another, till they reached the bank and saw the blue waters of Kildeer +river at their feet. There she was permitted to sit down and rest. A +little laughing and a little flushed, her happy look was almost brought +back again. But she sat and gazed down at the pretty stream and its +picturesque banks without saying anything; letting Mr. Linden take his +own view of them. His own view was a peculiar one--to judge by his +words. + +"Miss Faith, I suppose you are not much acquainted with law forms,--yet +you perhaps know that an important witness in an important case, is +sometimes put in prison until his evidence is obtained." + +Faith looked up at him in pure astonishment, the corners of her mouth +indicating that she expected another _puzzle_, or rather was already +engaged in one. The look made his gravity give way a little. + +"I thought you might like to know your position at present," he said. + +"I don't know it yet, Mr. Linden." + +"It is that of the unfortunate prisoner to whom I referred." + +"A prisoner!--" said Faith looking up at him very much amused. "Well, +Mr. Linden?" + +He looked amused too, yet with a difference. + +"Well, Miss Faith--You are a prisoner, for political purposes. There is +no practicable way for you to get back to the house save through the +witness-box." + +"Where is the witness-box?" said Faith. + +"Are you in a hurry to be in it?" + +"No," said Faith with a very unshadowed smile, "I am not in a hurry for +anything." + +"Then tell me what you have been reading to-day," he said, throwing +himself down on the grass beside her. + +She looked at him, hesitated, then said with a lowered tone, + +"I have been reading what you told me to read--and my testament." + +Mr. Linden lifted his hat a little, replaced it--rather more down over +his brows than before, looking steadily down at Kildeer river the while. + +"Why did you look grave when I asked you if you had brought 'Le +Philosophe'?" + +"I didn't know I did!" said Faith simply. "I had brought only my +testament." + +"Only--" Mr. Linden repeated. "Well, from 'only' a testament and only +such a scene--a skilful reader may get much." Then turning and looking +her full in the face, he said, "Miss Faith--what have those boys done +to vex you?" + +A sudden, painful, startled flush answered him. She did not look now; +she said earnestly, + +"Please Mr. Linden, don't speak of it!" + +"I must know--" was his only answer. + +"No," she said gently but troubled,--"you mustn't know, and there is no +need you should. There is no need," she repeated eagerly. + +"There is another true little witness I can call upon--but I would +rather have your account." + +"How did you know?--how did you know anything about it?" said Faith, +facing round upon him in her turn. + +"Gentlemen of what Miss Danforth is pleased to call 'my profession' +must know things occasionally," said Mr. Linden. + +"_What_ do you think you know, Mr. Linden?" she said a little timidly. + +His answer was gentle though resolute. + +"I don't _think_ I know anything. What I know, I know----what I do not, +I will." + +Faith's head half drooped for an instant, and the flush which had faded +came back painfully. Then she looked at him again, and though the flush +was there she spoke as usual. + +"You won't try, Mr. Linden--because I am going to ask you not. It is +nothing you need take up--it was nothing but--what perhaps I was +foolish to mind. I don't mind it now--much--" + +But there was a grave falling off in the tone of that much. She felt it +herself, for she rallied and said with her own quiet frank smile, + +"I shall not mind it at all to-morrow." + +Mr. Linden looked at her while she spoke, gravely and intently enough; +but then he looked away at the river again, and probably read problems +in its soft rippling waters, for he spoke not. Overhead a hawk sailed +noiselessly to and fro, on spread wings,--in the trees close at hand a +squirrel chattered and barked with his mouth full. The afternoon light +left Kildeer river step by step, and the shadows crept after. + +Now the one white speck of cloud reflected in that peaceful stream was +no break in its beauty,--it marred nothing, nay, even brought a little +glow of its own to replace the sunbeams. Yet at that speck did Mr. +Linden take aim--sending his pebble so surely, so powerfully, that the +mirror itself was shattered to the remotest shore! Then he stood up and +announced that it was time to go. + +Faith stood up, but stood still, and waited somewhat anxiously upon the +answer to her question. + +"Then, Mr. Linden, you will not speak of it any more?" + +"The witness is discharged," he answered lightly, and walking on. + +She sprang after and placed herself directly in his way. + +"Mr. Linden--please give me your promise!" + +He looked down at her with eyes that were a little moved. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "please give me yours!" + +"For what?" said Faith. + +"That you will trust me--and not ask what I do." + +"Yes,"--said Faith,--"but--You must trust _me_, Mr. Linden," she said +smiling at him,--"and believe me that this is nothing for you to take +up--mere nonsense;--nothing at all to-morrow,--it is nothing to me now. +I want your word." + +She wanted it very much, it was easy to see; but beyond that, her face +did not belie her words. + +"I don't suppose Mrs. Derrick ever called you 'naughty child'"--said +Mr. Linden,--"but if ever she did she might to-night. Look where the +sun is--and where I am,--and guess where those boys are! Come--" and it +was not easy to resist the hand that again took hold of hers, nor the +quick pace at which he went forward. + +And for some fields' length Faith yielded and went as fast as he +pleased. Then as he stopped to put up a bar-place she said again, very +gently but firmly too, standing before him, + +"Mr. Linden, I think I have a _right_ to ask this. I know what I ask, +but you do not." + +"I never questioned your right, Miss Faith." + +"Then you'll not deny it to me?" + +"What is your idea of trust?" said Mr. Linden, replacing the last bar. + +"That it is something I ought to have just now," said Faith, smiling a +little. + +He stood leaning on the bars and looking at her--a kind look, that she +might well trust. + +"Child," he said, "you don't know what you are talking about--and I do. +And if you will not trust me any further than you can see me, you don't +deserve to be called Miss Faith any longer! Now don't you think I have +a right to get home and attend to my duties?" + +She yielded utterly at that, but with a set of her lip which he had +never seen before; it was trembling. She was turning to go on, when as +if to make amends for that--or to ask forgiveness generally--or to give +assurance of the trust he had claimed,--she stretched out her hand to +him and went by his help again until the orchard was reached and other +eyes might be expected to be on the look-out for them. + +"Do you like to read letters written from other countries by people you +have never seen?" Mr. Linden said when they reached that point. + +Faith's eyes opened slightly as was their way when suddenly astonished, +and a little colour started too, of surprise or pleasure. + +"I never did read any," she said,--"I _should_ like it." + +"Well, Miss Faith, I think Mrs. Derrick and Reuben can manage that +brown horse--especially as he has had no oats to-day--and I want you to +take possession of the whole of the back seat, put yourself in a +comfortable position, and spend the rest of the daylight in Italy with +my sister. When it gets dark you may go to sleep. And here is the +talismanic paper by whose help you must make the journey." + +What a colour thanked him! what a rosy flush of pleasure and gratitude! +To _say_ 'thank you' Faith nearly forgot. But it was said. + +There was no more delay of any kind after that. Wagons were ready, and +baskets, and boys; also Mrs. Derrick; and Faith was ready first of all. +So the two parties, now getting under weigh, went fairly homewards, by +an evening sky and a night full of stars. Only one incident need be +recorded. + +The ferry was passed, and four of the six miles between that and the +central town of Pattaquasset, when Mr. Linden suddenly checked his +horses. Turning half round, and laying a pretty imperative hand on the +collar of Phil Davids, he dropped him outside the wagon--like a walnut +from its husk--remarking that he had seen enough of him for one day, +and did not wish to hear of him again till next morning. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +Little Charles twelfth did not come to meet his Sunday school teacher, +as had been arranged, the Sunday preceding the Neanticut expedition. +Faith waited for him in the morning--waited and hoped,--but was not +greatly surprised to find that she had waited in vain. Charles the +twelfth, whether or not he was to follow during life the erratic and +wilful course of his namesake, was that day at least not to be led by +her. So Faith went to church, meditating a sometime descent upon Mrs. +Seacomb's shady domain, there to meet and recapture the heart of her +little charge. For so he seemed to her now. But on her return from the +morning service, she found Charles the twelfth, crest-fallen and +repentant, in his turn waiting for her. The matter was, his brother +Americus Vespucius had shut him up, so that he couldn't come; and as +soon as he was set free Charles the twelfth had used his freedom and +his legs in 'making tracks,' to use Mr. Simlins' expression, for Mrs. +Derrick's abode; and on this occasion he had made many fewer 'tracks' +than the afternoon of his previously recorded invasion; as being +somewhat burdened in spirit he had stopped for no somersets, and had +been lured aside by no tempting invitations of a dusty place or a +mudpuddle. + +Faith heard his story gravely and sympathizingly; comforted him up; +encouraged him to hope that the discoverer of America would not prove +so adverse to _his_ making discoveries another Sunday; gave him a +little talk and a good dinner, and sent him home cheerful and +determined. The very mood for success; accordingly the next morning +after the return from Neanticut, being Sunday, Charles the twelfth +presented himself at the house in brave good time; and Faith and her +little charge, for the first time in their lives both of them, went to +Sunday school. The child very important and expectant; the teacher very +gentle and very grave indeed. + +Faith had made her arrangements the Sunday before; so she and Charles +twelfth proceeded at once to the place assigned her. At the opening +services the king of Sweden stared mightily. Faith looked at nothing. +She had a feeling that other children and other teachers were nearer to +her than she wished they were; and she was a little uncertain how best +to take hold of the odd little piece of humanity intrusted to her care. +However, when the reading and the singing were over Faith began a long +low talk to him about some Bible story, diverging as she went on to an +account of the other world, and the two ways that lead to it, and the +two sorts of people that travel them. And becoming exceedingly +interested herself, she fastened the eyes of Charles the twelfth in a +way that shewed his thoughts were cleaving to hers. Faith's own +thoughts were cleaving elsewhere. The things she said were simply said; +her words were the plainest; her illustrations just at his hand; but +the voice in which they were given would alone have won the ear of a +child; and whatever other impression her words made upon his mind, the +fixed conclusion in which he was left at the ending was, that whatever +way _she_ was travelling was the right one! + +It was a beautiful fair first of October; still and sunny; but if it +had not, it would probably have been a fair day to Faith after that +beginning of it. She looked as if it was, in the church, and on the way +home, and at the quiet dinner table; her face was a transcript of the +day; still and sunny. It seemed to be true, her promise that the +annoyance of yesterday would be nothing to her to-day. There was no +shadow of it in sight. If there was a shadow anywhere at the table, it +was upon Mrs. Derrick,--a half jealous fear that her child would be +less hers by becoming a Christian--a half uneasy feeling of the new +state of things, did cloud her heart a little, though almost unknown to +her self She would not have confessed to any such cloud--and +practically it was not there: no straw of hindrance did she put in +Faith's way; indeed she seemed rather fearful of touching the matter in +any wise. It was rather from curiosity than anything else, that she +said--as they were both getting ready for afternoon church, + +"Well child, how did you like going to Sunday school?" + +Faith's answer was subdued, but earnest. "I liked it very much, mother." + +"How many's in your class?" said Mrs. Derrick, tying her bonnet. + +"Only one yet--but that was enough for me to begin with.--I hope I +shall get some more soon." + +"Only one!" said Mrs. Derrick--"besides you, do you mean, child?" + +"Mother!"--said Faith. Then smiling she added, "Yes, mother--only one +besides me. That one is little Charley Seacomb--and I am trying to +teach him." + +"Why I thought you were in Mr. Linden's class!" said Mrs. Derrick, +facing round. + +But Faith's face flushed, and what was very uncommon with her, the +tears came too. + +"So I am, mother," she said;--"but I am one that he teaches at home. I +have learned all I know from him," she said, covering her eyes with +both hands. + +"Why child, hush!" said her mother softly--"I didn't mean to say +anything,--how should I know? So you're teaching Charley Seacomb, +hey?--well I'm sure he wants it bad enough. I guess I'd better go too, +next Sabbath,--it was real lonesome with you all gone. And that makes +me think, child--I wonder if you could go a little way for me after +meeting?" + +"Go to Sunday school, mother!" said Faith shewing her bright wet eyes. +"Will you teach some children, mother?" + +Written letters don't give the intonation of these words. + +"I guess they could teach me, some of 'em," said her mother. "But I +thought maybe, Faith, you'd take Sally Loundes some medicine--she sent +word for it, and I don't know as I can get so far to-day. Mr. Linden +does have a class, don't he?" + +"I can go just as well as not, and like it very much, mother. O yes--he +has a class of course--a class of some of the biggest boys--a large +class." + +"I wonder what _he_ does with himself after meeting," said Mrs. +Derrick. "Folks do say he goes strolling round, but I don't believe it." + +"Mother! Folks say everything, I believe. He knows what he does." + +"Maybe _you_ wouldn't like to be seen out on Sabbath?" said Mrs. +Derrick, with sudden thought. "Because if you wouldn't, Faith, I'll go +myself to Sally's--can or no can." + +"No, mother--" she said brightly,--"I would like to go. If I know I am +doing right, I don't mind about being seen. I wish people had as good +reason for telling tales about me, as they have for some others." + +"I guess your class 'll fill up,--" said her mother, with her fond, +wistful look at the only thing she had in the world. + +It was the fairest, still, sweet afternoon, when after church Faith got +the medicine for Sally Loundes and set out to take it to her. So fair +and lovely, that Faith hardly considered much the features of the road +she travelled; in that light any piece of ground was beautiful. The +road was very lonely after a little part of the village had been gone +through. It left the main street, then bid farewell to a few scattering +distant houses and approached what was called Barley Point;--a barren +piece of ground from which a beautiful view of the Sound and the ocean +line, and perhaps porpoises, could be had. But at the foot of this +field the road turned, round the end of that belt of woods spoken of; +and getting on the other side of it ran back eastward towards the +Lighthouse point. Between the woods and the sea, on this side, was a +narrow down that the farmers could make little of; and here the road, +if desolate, had a beauty of its own. On Faith's right was this strip +of tolling downs, grown with nothing but short grass and low blackberry +vines; and close at hand, just beyond its undulating line, the waves of +the sea beating in. Very little waves to-day, everything was so quiet. + +At the Lighthouse point, a mile or more on, was a little settlement of +fishermen and others; but only one house stood on the way, and that +hardly disturbed the monotony or the solitude; it was so little, so +brown, and looked so of a piece with the barren country. That was Sally +Loundes' house. Faith met nobody till she got there. + +When Faith came out of the house, the sun's place warned her she would +have no time to spare to get home. She set off with quicker pace, +though nowise concerned about it. There was no danger of anything in +Pattaquasset. But she had gone only a little part of her wild homeward +way when she met Mr. Simlins. Now Mr. Simlins was accustomed to take an +afternoon Sunday stroll and sometimes a long one; so it was no matter +of surprise to meet him, nor even to meet him there, for Mr. Simlins +was as independent in his choice of a walk as in everything else. But +_he_ was surprised. + +"Hullo! my passenger pigeon," he exclaimed. "Why are you here all +alone, in this unfrequent place?" + +"It's a very nice place," said Faith. "And it's not disagreeable to be +alone--though I am willing to meet you, Mr. Simlins." + +"Haven't been quarrelling with anybody, have you?" + +"No," said Faith, giving an amused look to this view of the subject. +"Do I look quarrelsome, Mr. Simlins?" + +"I don't know how you look!" said the farmer. "I aint anything of an +exposition. You'll have to ask somebody else. There's some words too +hard for me to spell and pro-nounce. Where have you been?" + +"Just to carry Sally Loundes some medicine mother had for her." + +"Where are you goin' now?" + +"Home." + +"Goin' alone?" + +"Why, yes. Why not?" + +"Don' know," said Mr. Simlins,--"only I'm going part way, and I'll see +nothin' happens to you as long as _I_'m in your consort." + +It was a wild place enough to make company pleasant. Dark clumps of +forest-trees on one hand grew near together, and the spaces between, +though cleared, looked hardly less wild; for vines and sumach and ferns +had taken possession. The sun's rays yet lay warm on the rolling downs, +the sere grass and the purplish blackberry vines, and sparkled on the +waves beyond; but when Mr. Simlins and Faith struck into the woods for +a 'short cut,' the shadowy solitude closed them in on all sides. Softly +their steps moved over the fallen pine leaves, or rustled through the +shreds of autumn finery that lay beneath oak and maple, and nothing +else but birds and squirrels broke the stillness till they were near +the further edge of the wood. There they heard a soft murmur of voices. + +"Who lives here?" said Mr. Simlins. + +But Faith held her breath. + +"There's mortality here, where I thought there was nothing but animals +and vegetation," said Mr. Simlins stepping softly and cautiously +forward. "Let's see--don't make no noise more'n the leaves 'll let you. +I shouldn't think anything would come to a meetin' here but a +wood-chuck--and they're skeered if they see a shadow." + +On that side the trees ceased abruptly, and the open sunshine of a +little clearing replaced them; and there were the speakers. + +Tallest among the group sat Mr. Linden, and around him--in various +attitudes of rest or attention--a dozen boys basked in the sunshine. +Most of them were a size or two smaller than his morning class at the +Sunday school, though several of those were stretched on the grass at +the outskirts of the circle, as honorary members. Little Johnny Fax, +established in Mr. Linden's lap, divided his attention pretty evenly +between the lesson and the teacher; though indeed to his mind the +separate interests did not clash. + +The little glade was very green still, but sprinkled with the autumn +leaves which came floating down at every breath; and the bordering +trees stood some in deep green hemlock and some in paler pine, and +thrust out here and there a glowing arm into the sunlight. The +boys--listening and looking,--some playing the part of young +Nebuchadnezzars, some picking and breaking up the asters and golden rod +within their reach,--giving little side nods of assent to each other, +or bending a more earnest gaze on Mr. Linden; pushing back their +caps--or pulling them down with a quick brush across the eyes;--the +hand with which Johnny Fax stroked back from Mr. Linden's forehead any +stray lock of hair which the wind displaced, or laid on his shoulder +when there was nothing else to do;--made altogether a picture the like +of which Mr. Simlins had not seen before--nor even Faith. The sun might +leave the clearing and betake itself to the tree-tops, and thence to +the clouds,--there was light there which came from a higher source. + +Not Faith's silent attention was more silent and motionless than that +of her companion; he did not move or stir. But her deep, deep, rapt +gravity formed part of the subject of his contemplations, for one or +two keen sidelong glances fell upon it. Else, his eyes were busy +uninterruptedly with the scene and took in the whole effect of it; hers +hardly wavered from one point. + +A little stir among the boys roused both the lookers-on from their +muse; but they stood still again at the first notes of a hymn--as Mr. +Linden's deep voice began, and the young choir with its varied treble +chimed in. + + "I want to be an angel, + And with the angels stand, + A crown upon my forehead, + A harp within my hand; + There, right before my Saviour, + So glorious and so bright, + I'd wake the sweetest music, + And praise him day and night. + + "I never should be weary, + Nor ever shed a tear, + Nor ever know a sorrow, + Nor ever feel a fear; + But blessed, pure, and holy, + I'd dwell in Jesus' sight, + And with ten thousand thousand + Praise him both day and night. + + "I know I'm weak and sinful, + But Jesus will forgive, + For many little children, + Have gone to heaven to live. + Dear Saviour, when I languish, + And lay me down to die, + Oh send a shining angel + To bear me to the sky! + + "Oh there I'll be an angel, + And with the angels stand! + A crown upon my forehead, + A harp within my hand. + And there before my Saviour, + So glorious and so bright, + I'll wake the sweetest music, + And praise him day and night!" + + +The two listeners stood still while the hymn was singing, still as the +air; but Mr. Simlins got no more sight of Faith's face. They stood +still when the hymn was finished, as if they lingered where the last +vibrations had been. But as a general stir among the hymn party +proclaimed that they would soon be on the move, the two who had watched +them, as if by consent, turned short about and silently picked their +way back through the darkening wood to the nearest point of road they +could reach. It was far from home, and even out of the wood the light +was failing; they walked with quick steps. Mr. Simlins could get +glances now at Faith's face, but though it was quiet enough, he seemed +for some reason or other in a disagreeable state of mind. It made +itself manifest at length in a grunt of considerable power. + +"Ugh!--this is a complexious sort of a world to live in!"--was his not +very clear remark. The contrast of the tone of the next words was +striking. + +"Dear Mr. Simlins, there is something better." + +"What do you call me 'dear' for?" growled he. "You never did before." + +"I don't know," said Faith. "Because I want you to be as happy as I am." + +"Be you so happy?" said the farmer inquisitively. + +Faith said yes. It was a calm and clear yes; a confident yes; one that +felt its foundations strong and deep; yet Faith's mother or dearest +friend, if gifted with quick apprehensions, would hardly have been +satisfied with it. Was Mr. Simlins so gifted? + +"Not so happy you couldn't be happier?" he said in a tone that assumed +it. + +"No," said Faith, looking at him with a sunshiny smile;--"I want to be +better, Mr. Simlins." + +"Better!"--growled Mr. Simlins. "You go hang yourself!--I wish you +_was_ better. If you aint happy--I wish the Simlins' may be--an extant +race!" + +The extraordinary combination of wishes in this speech took away +Faith's breath for an answer. She waited for something more. + +"What was that fellow doing there?" growled the farmer after a while. + +"I suppose he was teaching Sunday school," Faith said after a little +hesitation. + +"Why, is one to be forever teaching Sunday school?" said the farmer in +a discontented tone. + +"Why not?" said Faith,--"as long as there are people to be taught?" + +"Don't you want to take hold and teach me now?" said Mr. Simlins. + +Faith did not know at all what to make of this question; and before she +had found an answer that would do, she was saved making any. For Mr. +Linden, with even brisker steps than theirs, came up behind them; and +after a bright "Good evening, Mr. Simlins," uttered a somewhat +surprised "Miss Faith!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Simlins, "here she is; and I'm goin' along to see that +nothing happens to her. She goes to take care o' somebody else,--and I +come after to take care o' her; so we go. We all give each other a deal +o' trouble in this world!" + +"Am I expected to take care of you, Mr. Simlins, by the same rule?--I +came after." + +"Well!--I don't know," said the farmer "I guess there'll be nobody to +take care of me. I'm past taking care of." + +"What does that mean?" said Mr. Linden. + +"How would you like the job?" said Mr. Simlins. "Think it 'ud be easy?" + +"Why I should like to know a little more about the job before I express +any opinion." + +"I have an opinion," said Mr. Simlins, "that you don't know much o' +farming. Guess it's correct, aint it?" + +"What kind of farming?" inquired Mr. Linden again. + +"I don't know more'n one kind. Tillin' the earth, to bring out the +produce of it." + +"I have seen something of another kind," said Mr. Linden; "it is +this:--'Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy; break up +your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the Lord, till he return and +rain righteousness upon you.'" + +Mr. Simlins wasn't quick to answer that, and there was silence for a +minute or two, only broken by their footsteps. + +"Well--" he said slowly at length,--"suppos 'n a piece o' ground bears +as good a crop as it has soil for, hadn't you ought to be contented +with it?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Linden; "but I never saw such a piece of ground, yet." + +Mr. Simlins paused. + +"Do you believe some folks can be better than they air already?" he +asked. + +"I believe all folks can." + +"You believe in cameras, then. How're you goin' to work?" + +"To make people better?--set them to work for them selves, if I can." + +"What sort o' ploughs and harrows would you want 'em to take hold of?" + +"They'll find out, when they set to work in earnest to make the ground +yield the right sort of fruit," said Mr. Linden. + +"What do you call the right sort?" said the farmer, now thoroughly +engaged. "Aint as good as a man can do, the right sort?" + +"Why yes," said Mr. Linden again, "but I tell you I never saw that sort +of fruit ripe--and I'm not sure that I ever shall in this world. For +the best fruit that the ground can yield, includes not only the best +seed and cultivation, but the perfect keeping down of every weed, and +the unchecked receiving of all sweet heavenly influences." + +"That's a camera!" said Mr. Simlins something shortly. "You can't have +all that in this world." + +"The fact that people cannot be perfect in this world, does not hinder +their being better than they are." + +"Well, I say, how're you goin' to work to make it, when they're doin' +the best they can do, already?" + +"Who is?" + +"I am inclined to be of the opinion you air," said Mr Simlins slowly. +"I won't say I be--but I don't know how to do no better." + +"Thank you, Mr. Simlins--" was the somewhat sorrowful reply,--"you may +see what I do, but you do not see what I know. And for you, my +friend--pray to know!--there can be no mistakes in the advice that +comes from heaven." + +There was a minute's silence, till they came to a turning. + +"I'd be glad to see you," said Mr. Simlins in a somewhat lowered +tone,--"ary one of you--down to my house, any time. _You_ can take care +of her the rest of the way. Good night!"-- + +He turned off abruptly down a road that led his way. + +They had been walking with slackened steps during this conversation, +and the lingering memory of it still checked the pace of the two now +left together: + + "Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, + They to their grassy couch, these to their nests," + +had all retreated. And when Mr. Linden spoke, it was not in his own +words. + + + "'I thank thee, uncreated Sun, + That thy bright beams on me have shined! + I thank thee, who hast overthrown + My foes, and healed my wounded mind! + I thank thee, whose enlivening voice + Bids my freed heart in thee rejoice! + + "'Thee will I love, my joy, my crown! + Thee will I love, my Lord, my God! + Thee will I love--beneath thy frown + Or smile, thy sceptre or thy rod! + What though my flesh and heart decay, + Thee shall I love in endless day!'" + + +The silence of the evening fell again unbroken. Unless a breath caught +somewhat interruptedly--so gentle a break--might be said to break it. +Faith said nothing, except by that caught breath. Mr. Linden's step was +the only one heard. Silently then he gave her his arm, and they went on +at a quicker pace. + +After a while Faith broke the silence. She spoke in a very quiet voice; +as if choosing her words; and hesitated a little sometimes as if +timidity checked her. + +"Mr. Linden, I want to ask you about something that troubles me--I +don't know what is right. I know I know very little--I know I cannot +say much or can't say it well--but I feel sometimes as if I must speak +to everybody I can reach, and tell them what I do know, and beg them to +be safe and happy. And then something tells me that if I do so, people +will think me crazy, or be offended,--that it is not my business and I +can't do it well and that I had better not try to do it at all.--Is +that 'something' right or wrong?" + +"'Let him that heareth, say Come,'" Mr. Linden replied. "It is part of +the sailing orders of every Christian to speak every other vessel that +he can,--which does not mean that he should go out of his own proper +course to meet them, nor that he should run them down when met." + +"Nor, I suppose," said Faith, "that he should trouble himself about his +voice being very low or very hoarse. I thought so. Thank you, Mr. +Linden." + +"The voice of true loving interest is generally sweet--and rarely gives +offence," he said. "If people never spoke of religious things but from +the love of them, there would be an end to cant and bad taste in such +matters." + +She said no more. + +"How does Charles twelfth behave?" said Mr. Linden as they neared home. +"Has he 'reacted' again--or does he give you both hands full?" + +"He behaved nicely!" said Faith. "As to filling my hands, I suppose +they wouldn't hold a great deal to-day; but I hope to have them fuller +before long." + +"Then I may send you another scholar?" + +"O yes!" said Faith. "Have you one for me?" + +"Perhaps two, if circumstances make my hands too full." + +"Do I know them?" + +"I am not sure how well, nor whether you know them at all by name; but +you will like to teach them for different reasons. At least I have." + +"I don't know"--said Faith. "If you have taught them, Mr. Linden, they +will be very sorry to come to me!" + +"Then you may have the pleasure of making them glad." + +She laughed a little, but soberly; and they reached their own gate. + +It was past the usual Sunday tea time; and soon the little party were +gathered at that pleasantest, quietest of tea-tables--that which is +spread at the close of a happy Sunday. It had been such to two at least +of the family sitting there, albeit Faith's brow was unusually grave; +and it had not been _un_happy to Mrs. Derrick. She entered, by hope and +sympathy, too earnestly and thoroughly into everything that concerned +Faith--rested too much of her everyday life upon her, to be unhappy +when _she_ smiled. + +After tea, as he often did, Mr. Linden went out again; and the two were +left alone. Mrs. Derrick occupied herself with reading in the old +family Bible, where she turned over leaf after leaf; but Faith, on a +low seat, sat looking into the remains of the little fire which had +been kindled in the supper room. Looking at the glowing coals and grey +flickering ashes, with a very grave, meditative, thoughtful gaze. + +"Mother--" she said at length, turning her face towards Mrs. Derrick's +Bible. + +"Well child?" said her mother a little abstractedly. + +"I wish, mother, you would ask Mr. Linden to read and pray at +night--and let Cindy and Mr. Skip come in?" + +"Why Faith!" said Mrs. Derrick, now fully roused,--"how you talk, +child! Wish I'd do this, and wish I'd let 'tother--don't I let you and +Mr. Linden do pretty much what you've a mind to?" + +It was incomprehensible to Faith that her mother's permission should +have to do with any of Mr. Linden's actions; but she merely repeated, + +"I wish you'd ask him, mother." + +"I guess I will!" said Mrs. Derrick--"when I do you'll know it, and he +too. Ask him yourself, pretty child," she added, looking at Faith with +a very unbent brow. + +"But mother," said Faith with a little tinge in her cheeks,--"it would +be much better that you should ask him. You are the person to do it." + +"I should like to see you make that out," said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't +think I'm such a person at all." + +"Only because you are the head of the family, mother," Faith said with +a little fainter voice. + +"Well, if I'm the head of the family I'll do as I like, for once," said +Mrs. Derrick. "I'd like to hear him, I'm sure,--child it would seem +like old times,--but I wouldn't ask him, for a kingdom!" + +Faith looked at her, half laughing and grave too--but gave up the +point, seeing she must. + +"And while you're about it, Faith, you can just ask him to make his +boys behave. Sam Stoutenburgh did nothing all meeting time but look at +you. So I guess the sermon didn't do _him_ much good." + +Faith went back to the contemplation of the fire. However, she +apparently had not made up her mind that _she_ was 'the person,' or +else was not ready to act upon it; for when Mr. Linden was heard +opening the front door Faith ran away, and came down no more that night. + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + +"It occurs to me, Parson Somers," said that gentleman's lady wife, as +she salted and sugared his morning bowl of porridge; "it occurs to me, +that Pattaquasset is getting stirred up with a long pole." + +"Ah, my dear?" said Mr. Somers--"'Stirred up! Well--what makes you +think so?" + +"Why--" said Mrs. Somers tasting the porridge--"Jenny! fetch some more +milk. How do you suppose Mr. Somers is going to eat such thick stuff as +that?--and when do you suppose he is going to get his breakfast, at +this rate? If you let your head run upon Jem Waters in this style, +Jenny, I shall forbid him the house. I always notice that the day after +he's been here Mr. Somers' porridge is too thick." + +"Well, my dear," said the parson,--"ha--the porridge will do very well. +I thought you were speaking of Pattaquasset when you spoke of something +being 'stirred up.'" + +"So I was," said the lady, while Jenny blushing beyond her ordinary +peonic hue, ran about in the greatest confusion, catching up first the +water pitcher and then the molasses cup. "'Do very well?'--no, indeed +it won't!--but men never know anything about housekeeping." + +"Well, my dear, but about Pattaquasset?--I know something about +Pattaquasset. Is there any trouble in the village? It's a very +peaceable place," continued Mr. Somers, looking at his distant +breakfast dish,--"always was--ha--I wish you'd let me have my porridge. +Is there any trouble, my dear?" + +"I can't tell,--" said Mrs. Somers, adding critical drops of +milk,--"see for yourself, Mr. Somers. If there isn't, there may +be.--One set of things is at sixes, and another at sevens. +There--that's better, though it's about as far from perfection as I am." + +"We're none of us perfect, and so--ha--my dear, we can't blame the +porridge," said Mr. Somers with slight jocularity which pleased at +least himself. "But Pattaquasset is about as near the impossible state +as most places, that _I_ know. What have you heard of, Mrs. Somers? You +deal in rather--a--enigmatical construction, this morning." + +"Who said I had heard anything?" said the lady,--"I only said, use your +eyes, Mr. Somers,--open your study window and let the light in. Just +see what a rumpus we've had about the school, to begin." + +"Ha! my dear," said Mr. Somers, "if opening the window of my study is +going to let trouble come in, I'd rather--ha--keep it shut! Judge +Harrison thinks the teacher is a very fine man--and I've no doubt he +is!--and the Judge is going to give him a great celebration. I have no +doubt we shall all enjoy it. I think the disturbance that has been made +will not give Mr. Linden any more trouble." + +"Why who cares about his trouble?" said Mrs. Somers rather briskly,--"I +dare say he's very good, Mr. Somers, but I sha'n't fret over _him_. I'm +not sure but he's a little _too_ good for my liking--I'm not sure that +it's quite natural. Jenny! fetch some more biscuit!--how long do you +suppose Mr. Somers and I can live upon one?" + +Parson Somers eat porridge and studied the philosophy of Mrs Somers' +statements. + +"My dear," said he at length,--"I am not sure that you are correct in +your view--indeed it seems to me--a--rather contradictory. I don't know +what the stir is about; and I don't think there is any occasion, my +dear, for you--a--to fret, about anything. Not about Mr. Linden, +certainly. The disaffection to the new school was--a--confined to very +few! I don't think it has taken root in the public mind generally. You +will be better able to form a judgment on Thursday." + +"Bless your heart! Mr. Somers," said his wife, "what's Thursday to do? +If you think I've said all I _could_ say--why there's no help for it. +Now there's Sam Deacon--don't come to meeting half the time +lately,--and to match that, Faith Derrick walks into Sunday school with +one of those Seacomb children tagging after her." + +"Well," said Mr. Somers looking exceedingly mystified,--"what's the +harm in that? If Miss Faith chooses to do it, it shews, I am sure, a--a +charitable disposition,--praiseworthy!" + +"Mr. Somers!"--said the lady. "Is it possible you can think for one +moment that I mean what you mean? If she came to Society too, I should +know what to make of it, but when people work alongside of some folks, +and not alongside of others, why it's as long as it's broad. Then Maria +Davids says she drove those boys over to Neanticut 'tother day--or +helped drive 'em. What do you think of that, Mr. Somers?" + +Mr. Somers looked as if his wife was too fast for him. + +"My dear," said he however, plucking up,--"I think I would trust Faith +Derrick as soon as Maria Davids, or--any other young lady in +Pattaquasset! If she did go to Neanticut I presume it was all as it +should be. Squire Deacon never was--a--very remarkable for being a +religious man or anything like that; and you can't help folks working +alongside of each other--they will do it," said Mr. Somers relapsing +into his jocular mood. "I am a man of peace, my dear, and you should be +a woman of peace." + +"Why you don't suppose I believed what Maria Davids said?" replied Mrs. +Somers. "Her words are not worth their weight in gold--and she isn't a +bit too good to be jealous. But the thing is, if Faith didn't do that, +what _did_ she do? Jenny! fetch in the tub of hot water, and be spry!" + +With Jenny and the hot water walked in a somewhat rough-looking boy, +who declared without much ceremony, beyond doffing his cap, that "'ma +sent him to find out where the sewin' meetin' was to be this week." + +"Who are you?" said Mrs. Somers, dipping a cup in the hot water and +wiping it with a 'spryness' that was quite imposing. "Is your name Bill +Wright?" + +"No 'taint," said the boy. "Guess again." + +"You'll never pay anybody for much trouble that way," said Mrs. Somers +dipping in the corresponding saucer. "Jenny--did you ever hear of +anybody's getting along in a dish-tub without a mop?" + +"Who is it wants to know, sir?" said Mr. Somers politely. "Who is your +father?" + +"He's farmer Davids." + +"Oh! and are you Phil?" + +"Yes! What be I goin' to tell her?"--This interrogatory being sent in +the direction of the dish-tub. + +"Why you can tell her two things," said Mrs. Somers, eying Phil from +head to foot. "In the first place, the Society'll meet down at Miss +Bezac's; and in the second, as soon as your mother'll teach her +children how to behave themselves I shall be very glad to see them." + +"The Society'll meet down to Miss Purcell's?" + +"Miss Bezac's"--said Mrs. Somers, preserving a cheerful and brisk +equanimity in the midst of her sharp words that was quite delightful. +"Pay more attention to your lessons, Phil Davids, and you'll be a +better boy, if you look sharp." + +"What lessons?" said the boy blackly. + +"All you get--at home and abroad. You go to school I fancy," replied +Mrs. Somers. + +The boy glanced towards the clock and began to move off, answering by +actions rather than words. + +"You were over at Neanticut, I suppose, Saturday," said Mr. Somers +affably. To which the answer was a choked and unwilling 'yes.' + +"Well who drove you over?" + +"He druv," said Phil. "I'm going--" + +"And the ladies--weren't there ladies along?" + +"Yes--They druv too." + +"Did you have a fine time?" said Mrs. Somers. + +"Yes! _I_ did," said Phil very gloomily. + +"Why what did you do more than the rest?" + +"I didn't do nothing!" said Phil, blurting out,--"and he went and took +all my nuts away. He's the devil!" + +The boy looked at the minute as if he was a young one. + +"Hush, hush!" said Mr. Somers. "You--you oughtn't to speak that +way--don't you know? it's not proper." + +"I hope he boxed your ears first," said Mrs. Somers--"I'm certain you +deserved it. What made him take your nuts away?" + +"He wanted 'em to make a present to you"--said the boy; and with +another glance at the hands of the clock, he darted out of the house +and down the road towards the schoolhouse, as if truly he had expected +to meet there the character he had mentioned. + +"My dear--" said Mr. Somers--"do you think it is quite--a--politic, to +tell Mrs. Davids she don't bring up her children right? Mrs. Davids is +a very respectable woman--and so is Farmer Davids--none more so." + +"I don't know what you call respectable women--" said Mrs. Somers--"I +should be sorry to think _he_ was. But I just wish, Mr. Somers, that +you would preach a sermon to the people about cutting off their +children's tongues if they can't keep them in order. I declare! I could +hardly keep hands off that boy." + +And with this suggested and suggestive text, Mr. Somers retired to his +study. + +It had been a busy day with more than Mr. Somers, when towards the +close of the afternoon Faith came out upon the porch of her mother's +house. She had not read more than one delicious bit of her letter on +the ride home from Neanticut; the light failed too soon. After getting +home there was no more chance. Saturday night, that Saturday, had a +crowd of affairs. And Monday had been a day full of business. Faith had +got through with it all at last; and now, as fresh as if the kitchen +had been a bygone institution--though that was as true of Faith in the +kitchen as out of it--she sat down in the afternoon glow to read the +letter. The porch was nice to match; she took a low seat on the step, +and laying the letter in her lap rested her elbow on the yellow floor +of the porch to take it at full ease. + +It was not just such a letter as is most often found in +biographies,--yet such as may be found--'out of print.' A bright medley +of description and fancy--mountains and legends and scraps of song +forming a mosaic of no set pattern. And well-read as the writer was in +other respects, it was plain that she was also learned in both the +books Faith had had at Neanticut. The quick flow of the letter was only +checked now and then by a little word-gesture of affection,--if that +could be called a check, which gave to the written pictures a better +glow than lit up the originals. + +It was something to see Faith read that letter--or would have been, if +anybody had been there to look. She leaned over it in a sort of +breathless abstraction, catching her breath a little sometimes in a way +that told of the interest at work. The interest was not merely what +would have belonged to the letter for any reader,--it was not merely +the interest that attached to the writer of it, nor to the person for +whom it was written; it was not only the interest deep and great which +Faith felt in the subjects and objects spoken of in the letter. All +these wrought with their full power; but all these were not enough to +account for the intent and intense feeling with which Faith bent over +that letter, with eyes that never wavered, and a cheek in which the +blood mounted to a bright flush. And when it was done, even then she +sat still leaning over the paper, looking not at it but through it. + +A little shower of fringed gentian and white Ladies' tresses came +patting down upon the letter, hiding its delicate black marks with +their own dainty faces. + +"These are your means of transport back to Pattaquasset," said Mr. +Linden. Faith looked up, and rose up. + +"I had come back," she said, drawing one of those half long breaths as +she folded up and gave him the letter. "I can't thank you, Mr. Linden." + +"I thought you were not reading, or I should not have ventured such an +interruption. But I am in no hurry for the letter, Miss Faith. How do +you like Italy?" + +"I like it--" said Faith doubtfully,--"I don't know it. Mr. Linden," +she went on with some difficulty and flushing yet more,--"some time, +will you tell me in what books I can find out about those +things?--those things the letter speaks of." + +"Those which concern Italy, do you mean! I can arrange an Italy shelf +for you up stairs--but I am afraid I have not very much here to put on +it." + +"No indeed!" said Faith looking half startled,--"I didn't mean to give +you trouble--only some time, if you would tell me what books--perhaps--" + +"Perhaps what?" he said smiling,--"perhaps I wouldn't?" + +"No," she said, "I mean, perhaps you _would;_ and perhaps I could get +them and read them. I feel I don't know anything." + +That Faith felt it was very plain. She had that rare beauty--a soft +eye. I do not mean the grace of insipidity, nor the quality of mere +form and colour; but the full lustrous softness that speaks a character +strong in the foundations of peace and sweetness. Many an eye can be +soft by turns and upon occasion; it is rarely that you see one where +sweetness and strength have met together to make that the abiding +characteristic. The gentleness of such an eye has always strength to +back it. Weakness could never be so steadfast; poverty could not be so +rich. And Faith's eye shewed both its qualities now. + +Mr. Linden merely repeated, "I will arrange it for you--and you can +take the books in what order you like. Perhaps I can send you another +journey when they are exhausted," he added, turning the letter softly +about, as if the touch were pleasant to him. She stood looking at it. + +"I don't know how to thank you for letting me read that," she said. "It +would be foolish in me to tell you how beautiful I thought it." + +"_She_ is--" her brother said, with a tender, half smiling half grave +expression. And for a minute or two he was silent--then spoke abruptly. + +"Miss Faith, what have you done with your 'Philosophe'? You know, +though the rooms in the great Temple of Knowledge be so many that no +one can possibly explore them all, yet the more keys we have in hand +the better. For some locks yield best to an English key, some to a +French; and it is often pleasant to take a look where one cannot go in +and dwell." + +She flushed a good deal, with eyes downcast as she stood before him; +then answered, with that odd little change of her voice which told of +some mental check. + +"I haven't done anything with it, Mr. Linden." + +"That requires explanation." + +"It isn't so hard as one of your puzzles," she said smiling. "I mean to +do something with it, Mr. Linden, if I can; and I thought I would try +the other day; but I found I didn't know enough to begin--to learn that +yet." + +"What other key are you forging?" + +"What _other_ key?" said Faith. + +"I mean," he answered with a tone that shewed a little fear of going +too far, "what do you want to learn before that?" + +"I don't know," said Faith humbly.--"I suppose, English. It was a +grammar of yours, Mr. Linden, a French grammar, that I was looking at; +and I found I couldn't understand what it was about, anywhere. So I +thought I must learn something else first." + +"Never was philosopher so put in a corner!" said Mr. Linden. "Suppose +you take up him and the dictionary and let me be the grammar--do you +think you could understand what I was about?" + +The blood leapt to her cheek; part of her answer Faith had no need to +put in words, even if he had not seen her eyes, which he did. The words +were not in any hurry to come. + +"When you have been teaching all day already"--she said in a tone +between regretful and self-reproving. "It wouldn't be right." + +"Mayn't I occasionally do wrong?--just for variety's sake!" + +"_You_ may--and I don't doubt you would. I was thinking of my own part." + +"I am glad you don't say you have no doubt I _do_," said Mr. Linden. "I +suppose you mean that I would if sufficient temptation came up, which +of course it never has." + +Faith looked an instant, and then her gravity broke up. "Ah, but you +know what I mean," she said. + +"You will have to furnish _me_ with a dictionary next," he said +smiling. "Look at my watch--Miss Faith, how can you have tea so late, +when I have been teaching all day?--it isn't right,--and cuts off one's +time for philosophizing besides." + +Faith ran into the house, to tell the truth, with a very pleased face; +and tea was on the table in less time than Cindy could ever understand. +But during tea-time Faith looked, furtively, to see if any signs were +to be found that little Johnny Fax had been made to yield up his +testimony. Whether he had or no, she could see none; which however, as +she justly concluded with herself, proved nothing. + +The new grammar was far easier understood than the old. Although Mr. +Linden unfolded his newspaper, and informed Faith that he intended to +read 'uninterruptedly'--so that she 'need feel no scruple about +interrupting him'--yet he probably had the power of reading two things +at once; for his assistance was generally given before it was asked. +His explanations too, whether Faith knew it or not, covered more ground +than the _French_ exigency absolutely required,--he was not picking +this lock for her, but giving her the grammar key. + +But Faith knew it and felt it; and tasted the help thus given, with an +appreciation which only it needed to do all its work; the keen delight +of one seeking knowledge, who has never been helped and who has for the +first time the right kind of help. Indeed, with the selfishness +incident to human nature, she forgot all about Mr. Linden's intention +to read uninterruptedly, and took without scruple or question, all the +time he bestowed upon her. And it was not till some minutes after she +had closed her books, that her low, grateful "You are very good, Mr. +Linden!" reached his ear. + +Now the fact was, that Faith had been much observed that +afternoon,--her reading-dream on the steps had been so pretty a thing +to see, that when Squire Deacon had seen it once he came back to see it +again; and what number of views he would have taken cannot be told, had +he not been surprised by Mr. Linden. Naturally the Squire +withdrew,--naturally his enlarged mind became contracted as he thought +of the cause thereof; and not unnaturally he walked down that way after +tea, still further to use his eyes. The house was in a tantalizing +state. For though the light curtain was down, it revealed not only the +bright glow of the lamp, but one or two shadowy heads; and the window +being open (for the evening was warm) low voices, that he loved and +that he did not love, came to his ear. Once a puff of wind floated the +curtain in--more tantalizing than ever! Squire Deacon could see Mr. +Linden bending aside to look at something, but _what_ the Squire could +not see; for there came the edge of the curtain. In a warm state of +mind he turned his face homewards, proclaiming to himself that he +didn't care what they did!--the result of which was, that in ten +minutes more he was knocking at Mrs. Derrick's door, and being promptly +admitted by Cindy entered the parlour just as Faith had shut up her +book and uttered her soft word of thanks. + +It was something of a transition! But after a moment's shadow of +surprise on her face, Faith came forward and gave the Squire her hand. +She would have let him then explain his own errand; but as he did not +seem very ready to do that, or to say anything, Faith stepped into the +breach. + +"How is Cecilia, Mr. Deacon? I have not seen her in a long time." + +"She's firstrate," said the Squire, colouring up; for Mr. Linden's "how +do you do _again_, Squire Deacon?" not only implied that they had +lately met, but that the occasion was not forgotten. + +"It's a sort of suffocating evening," added the Squire, wiping his +forehead. "I don't recollect so warm an October for a year or two. +Cilly's been out of town, Miss Faith, and since she come back she's +been complainin' of _you_." + +Faith was near saying that she hoped the warm weather would last till +Thursday; but she remembered that would not do, and changed her ground. + +"I am sorry anybody should complain of me. Is that because I didn't go +to see her when she was away?" + +"I'm sure the rest of us could have stood it, if you _had_ come when +she was gone, Miss Faith," said the Squire gallantly. "Seems to me we +haven't seen you down to our house for an age of Sundays." + +"I will try to come of a week day," said Faith. "I think you never saw +me there Sunday, Mr. Deacon." + +"I suppose an age of Sundays must be seven times as long as any other +age," said Mr. Linden. "Isn't that the origin of the phrase, Squire +Deacon?" + +"Very like," said the Squire--who didn't care to be interrupted. "I +don't know much about originals,--when a man has a position to fill, +sir, he can't study knick-knacks. What a handsome book, Miss Faith! +such a becoming colour." + +"Don't you like the inside of books too, Mr. Deacon?" said Faith. + +"I daresay I should that one," said the Squire,--"the outside's like a +picture--or a view, as some people call it. Looks just like a grain +field in spring. What's the name of it, Miss Faith?" + +Half prudently, half wickedly, Faith without answering took the book +from the table and put it in Mr. Deacon's hand. + +The Squire's face looked like anything but a grain field in spring +then--it was more like a stubble in November; for opening the book +midway and finding no help there, he turned to the title page and found +the only English words in the book, in very legible black ink. + +"So!" he said--"it's his'n, is it!" + +"Yes, it is mine," said Mr. Linden,--"almost any man may have so much +of a library as that." + +The Squire glanced suspiciously at Faith, as if he still believed she +had something to do with it; but he did not dare press the matter. + +"Miss Faith," he said, calling up a smile that was meant to do +retrospective work, "have you heard tell of the queer things they've +found down to Mattabeeset?" + +"What things, Mr. Deacon?" + +"Some sort o' bird's been makin' tracks down there," said the Squire +leaning back in his chair, with the look of one who has now got the +game in his own hands; "makin' tracks criss-cross round; and they do +say the size on 'em might have come out of the ark, for wonder." + +"How large are they, Mr. Deacon? and what sort of bird is it?" + +"Well if I was a descendant of Noah, I s'pose I could tell you," said +the Squire with increased satisfaction,--"I'm sorry I can't, as it is. +But if you're curious, Miss Faith (and ladies always is in my +experience) I'll drive you down there any day or any time of day. I +want to see 'em myself, that's a fact, and so does Cilly. Now Miss +Faith, name the day!" + +The shortest possible smile on Mr. Linden's face at this sudden and +earnest request, did not help Faith to an answer; but the Squire was +happily forgetful for the moment that there were more than two people +in the room, and leaning towards Faith he repeated, + +"The sooner the quicker, always, in such cases! because folks can never +tell what may happen." + +"No," said Faith, "they cannot--especially about weather; and I have +got some particular work to attend to at home, Mr. Deacon, before the +weather changes. I wish you and Cecilia would go down and bring us a +report. I should like that. But for the present Mr. Skip and I have +something to do." + +"It's good you want Mr. Skip, for I don't," said the Squire, stiffening +a little. "Is that one of the new-fashioned ways of saying you won't +go, Miss Faith?" + +"What's your objection to Mr. Skip?" said Faith pleasantly. "I am glad +nobody else wants him, for _we_ do." + +"Well, I say I'm glad you've got him," said the Squire, relenting under +the power of Faith's voice. "But what ails _you_ Miss Faith, to go +tackin' round like one o' them schooners against the wind? Aint it a +straight question as to whether you'll take an excursion to +Mattabeeset?" + +"Very straight," said Faith smiling and speaking gently. "And I thought +I gave a straight answer." + +"Blessed if I can see which road it took!" said Squire Deacon,--"save +and except it didn't seem to be the right one. 'No' 's about as ugly a +road as a man can foller. Guess I spoke too late, after all," said the +Squire meditatively. "How's your furr'n news, Mr. Linden? Get it +regular?" + +"Yes--" said Mr. Linden,--"making due allowance for the irregularity of +the steamers." + +Faith looked up in no little astonishment, and took the eye as well as +the ear effect of this question and answer; then said quietly, + +"Have you any business in the post-office, Mr. Deacon?" + +"Not a great deal, Miss Faith," said the Squire, with a blandness on +one side of his face which but poorly set off the other. "I go down for +the paper once a week, and 'lection times maybe oftener, but I don't do +much in the letter line. Correspondence never was my powder magazine. I +shouldn't know where to put two or three femin_ine_ letters a week--if +I got 'em." + +If he had got what somebody wanted to give him at that moment!--Squire +Deacon little knew what risk he ran, nor how much nearer he was to a +powder magazine than he ever had been in his life. + +"A sure sign that nobody will ever trouble you in that way," Faith said +somewhat severely But the Squire was obtuse. + +"Well I guess likely," he said, "and it's just as good they don't. I +shouldn't care about living so fur from any body I was much tied up +in--or tied up _to_, neither. I can't guess, for one, how you make out +to be contented here, Mr. Linden." + +"How do you know that I do, sir?" + +There was a little pause at that--it was a puzzling question to answer; +not to speak of a slight warning which the Squire received from his +instinct. But the pause was pleasantly ended. + +"Faith!" said a gentle voice in the passage--"open the door, +child--I've got both hands full." + +Which call Mr. Linden appropriated to himself, and not only opened the +door but brought in the great dish of smoking chestnuts. Faith ran away +to get plates for the party, with one of which in defiance of etiquette +she served first Mr. Linden; then handed another to the Squire. + +"I hope they are boiled right, Mr. Linden. Have you seen any chestnuts +yet this year, Mr. Deacon?" + +"I've seen some--but they warn't good for nothing," said the Squire +rather sourly. "Thank you, Miss Faith, for your plate, but I guess I'll +go." + +"Why stay and eat some chestnuts, Squire Deacon!" said Mrs. Derrick. +"Those are Neanticut chestnuts--firstrate too." + +"I don't like Neanticut chestnuts--" said Squire Deacon rising--"never +did,--they're sure to be wormy. Good night, Miss Faith--good night, Mr. +Linden. Mrs. Derrick, this room's hot enough to roast eggs." + +"Why the windows are open!" said Mrs. Derrick--"and we might have had +the curtains drawn back, too, but I always feel as if some one was +looking in." + +Which remark did not delay the Squire's departure, and Mrs. Derrick +followed him to the door, talking all the way. + +During which little 'passage' Faith's behaviour again transcended all +rules. For she stood before the dish of chestnuts, fingering one or +two, with a somewhat unsteady motion of the corners of her mouth; and +then put both her hands to her face and laughed, her low but very +merriment-speaking laugh. + +"Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said, "I think Job was an extraordinary +man!--and the chestnuts are not so bad as they are reported, after all." + +Faith became grave, and endeavoured to make trial of the chestnuts, +without making any answer. + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick returning, "I don't think the Squire felt +just comfortable--I wonder if he's well?" + +Which remark brought down the house. + +"By the way--" said Mr. Linden looking up,--"did you lose a bow of +ribband from your sunbonnet, the other day at Neanticut?" + +Faith owned to having lost it somewhere. + +"I found it somewhere--" said Mr. Linden with a rather peculiar look, +as he took out the bow of ribband. + +"Where did you find it, Mr. Linden?" + +"I found it here--in Pattaquasset." + +"Where?" + +But he shook his head at the question. + +"I think I will not tell you--you may lose it again." + +And all Faith's efforts could get no more from him. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + +The Thursday of the great school celebration arrived; and according to +Faith's unexpressed wish, the weather had continued warm. It was the +very luxury of October. A day for all the senses to disport themselves +and revel in luxurious beauty. But the mind of Pattaquasset was upon +the evening's revel, and upon the beauty of white cambric and blue +ribbands. The mind of Faith Derrick was on somewhat else. + +"Mother," she said, "do you know there must be a fire up in Mr. +Linden's room as soon as the weather gets cold?" + +"Of course, child." + +"Well there is nothing in the world up there to put wood in." + +"It used to lie on the floor--" said Mrs. Derrick, as if the past might +possibly help the future. "That does make a muss." + +"It's not going to lie on the floor now," said Faith. "I am going to +get Mr. Skip to make me a box, a large box, with a top--and I will +cover it with some carpet or dark stuff, if you'll give me some, +mother. It must be dark, because the wood of the room is. I am going to +stuff the top for a seat, and it will look very nice." + +"Anything does that you take hold of," said her mother. "Yes, child, +I'll give you all I've got,--you can look for yourself and take what +you like best." + +The immediate work of the day was to 'clear ship'--in other words, to +do all the day's work in the former part thereof, so as to leave time +for the unwonted business of the afternoon. Mrs. Derrick even proposed +that Faith should get dressed. But Faith said there was time enough +after dinner; and that meal was gone through with as usual. + +With this slight variation in the table talk. Mr. Linden suggested to +Faith the propriety of philosophizing a little, as a preparative for +the dissipation of the evening; and declared that for the purpose, he +would promise to bring his toilette within as narrow bounds as she did +hers. + +Faith's face gave answer, in the sort of sparkling of eye and colour +which generally met such a proposition, and which to-day was +particularly bright with the pleasure of surprise. + +"But," she said warningly, "I can dress in _very_ few minutes!" + +So she did, and yet--and yet, she was dressed from head to foot and to +the very point of the little white ruffle round her throat. Hair, +bright as her hair was, and in the last degree of nice condition and +arrangement, the same perfect presentation of hands and feet and white +ruffles as aforesaid;--that was the most of Faith's dressing; the rest +was a plain white cambric frock, which had its only setting off in her +face and figure. The one touch of colour which it wanted, Faith found +when she went down stairs; for upon the basket where 'Le Philosophe' +commonly reposed, lay a dainty breast-knot of autumn tints,--fringed +gentian with its delicate blue, and oak leaves of the deepest red, and +a late rose or two. + +It is a pity there was nobody to see Faith's face; for its tints copied +the roses. Surprise and doubt and pleasure made a pretty confusion. She +held in her hand the dainty bouquet and looked at it, as if the red +leaves could have told her what other hand they were in last; which was +what Faith wanted to know. + +A step on the porch--a slight knock at the front door, naturally drew +her thoughts and feet thither, but whatever Faith expected she did not +expect to see Sam Stoutenburgh. One might almost go further and say he +did not expect to see her, for he gazed at her as if she had been an +apparition--only that his face was red instead of white. + +"How do you do, Sam," said Faith, coming back a little to everyday +life. "Do you want to see Mr. Linden?" + +"O no, Miss Faith!" said Sam--as if it were the last thing in the world +he wanted to see. + +"Well Sam--what then?" + +But Sam was slow to say what then--or indeed to say anything; and what +would have been his success is to this day unknown, for at that moment +Mr. Linden came down stairs. + +"Do you want me, Sam?" he said, approaching the front door. + +"No, sir," said Sam (playing both parts of an unwilling witness)--"I--I +thought you were out, Mr. Linden." + +"O--" Mr. Linden said. "I beg your pardon!" And he not only went into +the parlour but shut the door after him. + +To no purpose! With him went the remnant of Sam Stoutenburgh's courage, +if he had had any to begin with, and after one more glance at Faith he +fairly turned his back and fled--without striking his colours. Faith +went back to the parlour. + +"What is the matter with the boy?" she said, "I couldn't get anything +out of him, Mr. Linden." + +A somewhat peculiar smile came with the words, + +"Couldn't you?" + +Faith noticed it, but her thought was elsewhere. She came back to the +table, took up the flowers, and said a little timidly, + +"Do you know who put these here, Mr. Linden?" + +The look changed. "I think I do," he said. + +Her look did not change, except to a softened reflection of the one +with which she had first viewed them. She viewed them still, bending +over them doubtfully; then glancing up at him she shook her head and +said, + +"You are dressed before me, after all, Mr. Linden!" + +And ran away. She was back again in three minutes, with the flowers +upon her breast; and if there had been but one adornment in the world +that would have fitted her just then, the giver of the flowers had +found it. Faith had altered nothing, she had only put them in the right +place; and the effect was curious in its beauty. That effect of her +flowers was probably the only one unknown to Faith herself, though it +was with a face blushing with pleasure that she came in and sat gravely +down to be a philosopher. + +She gave her teacher little trouble, and promised to give him less. She +had excellent capacity, that was plain; with the eager desire for +learning which makes the most of it; both the power and the will were +there to appropriate and use every word of Mr. Linden's somewhat +lawless but curiously skilful manner of instructing her. And the +simplicity of her attention was perfect. She did not forget her +flowers, probably, during this particular page of philosophizing, for a +little tinge on her cheek never ceased to speak of pleasure all through +the time; but that was the sole sign of distraction, if distraction +there were. Less grave, but more intent, than Mr. Linden himself, the +information that Mr. Skip had driven the little wagon round before the +door, came to her ears all too soon. + +The drive to the Judge's was not very long; it might have been three +quarters of a mile; so even at the old horse's rate of travelling they +were soon there. + +Judge Harrison's house was large and old-fashioned, yet had much more +style about it than any other house in Pattaquasset pretended to; and +the same was true of its arrangements and furniture. It was comfortable +and ample; so was everything in it; with besides that touch of ease and +fitness and adaptation which shews always--or generally--that people +have lived where there is a freedom from fixed standards. It was so +here; for Judge Harrison's family during the life-time of his wife had +always spent their winters and often part of their summers away from +Pattaquasset--in one of the great cities, New York generally, or at +some watering-place. There was also however an amount of good sense and +kind temper in the family which made no difference, of intention, +between them and the rest of Pattaquasset when they were there; so that +they were extremely popular. + +Mr. Skip and old Crab were in very good time; there were not more than +half assembled of all the good company asked and expected this +afternoon. These were all over, in the house and out of the house; +observing and speculating. The house was surrounded with pleasant +grounds, spreading on two sides in open smooth lawns of considerable +extent, and behind the house and the lawns stretching back in a half +open shrubbery. On one of the lawns long tables already shewed their +note of preparation; on the other there was a somewhat ominous array of +benches and chairs; and among them all, round and about everything, +scattered the people. + +Mrs. Derrick and Faith went upstairs to the unrobing room, where the +latter was immediately taken into consultation by Miss Harrison on some +matters which promised to keep them both busy for some time. Mr. Linden +meanwhile received a very cordial welcome from Judge Harrison, who was +cordiality itself. + +"Well, Mr. Linden! we've got a good day! Good for the boys and good for +us. We've ventured to depart a little from your--instructions! but--I +hope--in such a way as not to compromise you. My son and daughter have +managed it. I'll introduce him to you"--said the old gentleman looking +about,--"but he's somewhere just now." + +"I should like to know first, Judge Harrison, what my instructions +were," said Mr. Linden, as his eyes likewise made search for the +missing doctor. + +"O," said the Judge, "all right! I understood your feelings exactly. I +used that word because the right one didn't come. I have to do that +often. I've heard of the 'pen of a ready writer'--I'm sure I'd rather +have the tongue of a ready speaker; but it don't matter for me now. My +friends take me as they find me, and so will you, I have little fear. +Julius!--Here's my son, Dr. Harrison, Mr. Linden." + +Dr. Harrison must have a word of introduction to the reader, though he +was one of those who need very little in actual life. He was a handsome +man, young but not very young, and came up at his father's call and +honoured the introduction to his father's guest, with that easy grace +and address which besides being more or less born with a man, tell that +much attrition with the world has been at work to take away all his +outward roughnesses of nature. He was handsomely dressed too, though +not at all in a way to challenge observation. His coat would have +startled nobody in Pattaquasset, though it might have told another that +its wearer had probably seen France, had probably seen England, and had +in short lived much in that kind of society which recognizes the fact +of many kinds of coats in the world. His greeting of Mr. Linden was +both simple and graceful. + +"I am very happy to see you," he said as he shook hands. "I should +certainly have come to see you before, but I am more a stranger in +Pattaquasset than anybody. I have hardly been at home since I returned; +business has drawn me to other quarters--and I am only fortunate enough +to be in time for this occasion. It's a good time for me," said he +looking round,--"I can renew my old acquaintance with everybody at +once--I think all Pattaquasset is here." + +"Not grown out of your remembrance, has it?" said Mr. Linden. "How long +have you been away?" + +"Well--it's had time to grow out of everything! especially out of my +memory. I have not been here for five years--and then only for a few +days--and before that at College; so I may say I have hardly been here +since my boyhood. I don't know anybody but the old ones. I shall apply +to you, if you will allow me," said he, drawing himself and Mr. Linden +a little more apart from the centre of reception. "Who, for instance, +is that very--well-dressed--young lady just entering the +hall?--good-looking too." + +The doctor's face was very quiet--so were his words; but his eye was +upon Miss Cecilia Deacon, who in a low-necked blue silk, with an amber +necklace and jet bracelets, was paying her respects to the Judge and +his daughter. With equal quietness Mr. Linden made answer. + +"By the way," said the doctor suddenly, "I believe we owe this pleasant +occasion--very pleasant I think it is going to be--to you." + +"Accidentally and innocently, I assure you." + +"Yes--of course,"--said Dr. Harrison, with the air of one who needed no +information as to Mr. Linden's view of the subject, nor explanation as +to its grounds. "But," said he speaking somewhat low,--"my father has +the interests of the school--and indeed of all Pattaquasset--truly at +heart, and my sister has entered into all his feelings. I am a kind of +alien. I hope not to be so.--But, as I was saying, my father and sister +putting their heads together, have thought it would have a good effect +upon the boys and upon certain interests of the community through them +and their parents too, to give some little honours to the best students +among them--or to the cleverest boys--which, as you and I know, are not +precisely synonymous terms. Would you think well of such an expedient? +My father is very anxious to do nothing which shall not quite meet your +judgment and wish in the matter." + +"I shall leave it in Judge Harrison's hands," said Mr. Linden after a +moment's silence: "I should be very sorry to gainsay his wishes in any +respect. And some of the boys deserve any honours that can be given +them." + +"Do they?" said the doctor. "Can you indicate them to me?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden smiling. "I shall leave you to find out." + +"Leave _me_"--said the other. "How did you know what office they had +charged upon me? Well--I am making as long a speech as if I were a +member of Congress. By the way, Mr. Linden, can you imagine what could +induce a man to be that particular member of the body politic? it +occupies the place of the feet, I think; such members do little but run +to and fro--though I remember I just seemed to give them the place of +the tongue--unjustly. They don't do the real talk of the world." + +"The real _talk?_" said Mr. Linden. "Indeed I think they do their +share." + +"Of talk?" said the doctor with an acute look at his neighbour. +"Well--as I was saying--my sister has provided I believe some red and +blue, or red and something, favours of ribband--to be given to the boys +who shall merit them. Now to find out that, which you won't tell me, I +am to do, under your pleasure, some more talking--to them in public--to +see in short how well they can talk to me. Do you like that?" + +"Better than they will, perhaps--as merit is sometimes modest." + +"I assure you I would happily yield the duty into your hands--who would +do it so much better--but I suppose you would say as somebody +else--'Let my friend tell my tale.'--Who is that?" said the doctor +slowly and softly,--"like the riding pole of a fence--as little to +spare--and as rigid--isn't he?--and as long! Don't I remember him?" + +"You ought--that is Mr. Simlins." + +"Yes"--said the doctor musingly--"I remember him! I incurred his +displeasure once, in some boyish way, and if I recollect he is a man +that pays his debts. And that unfortunate--next--looks like the +perspective of a woman." + +But this lady Mr. Linden did not know. She was little, in form and +feature, and had besides a certain _pinched-in_ look of +diminutiveness--that seemed to belong to mind as well as body, temper, +and life--and had procured her the doctor's peculiar term of +description. + +"The next thing is," said Dr. Harrison, as his eye slowly roved over +the assembled and assembling people--"who is to give the favours? My +sister of course does not wish to be forward in the business and _I_ +don't--and you don't. _I _say, the prettiest girl here." + +"I think the hands that prepared the favours should dispense them," +said Mr. Linden. + +"But she won't do it--and ladies have sometimes the power of saying +no--they're generally persuadable!--Who's that?" said the doctor with a +change of tone, touching Mr. Linden's arm,--"the one in white with a +red bouquet de corsage--she's charming! She's the one!" + +"That is Miss Derrick." + +"She'll do,"--said the doctor softly to his companion, as Faith paused +for a quick greeting of the Judge and then passed on out of +sight;--"she's charming--Do you suppose she knew what she was about +when she put those red leaves and roses together? I didn't know there +was that kind of thing in Pattaquasset." + +"Yes, they look very well," said Mr. Linden coolly. + +"Julius!" said Mrs. Somers, laying hold of the elbow of the suggestive +coat, "what do you mean by keeping Mr. Linden and yourself back here. +That's the way with you young men--stand off and gaze at a safe +distance, and then make believe you're fire proof." + +"Don't make believe anything, aunt Ellen," said the young man lightly. +"Prove me. You can take me up to the cannon's mouth--or any other!--and +see if I am afraid of it." + +"I shall prove you before I take you anywhere," said Mrs. Somers. "You +needn't talk to me in that style. But it's a little hard upon the boys +to keep Mr. Linden here out of sight,--half of them don't know whether +they're on their head or their heels till they see him, I can tell from +their faces." + +"Mr. Linden," said the doctor with a gesture of invitation to his +companion,--"shall we go? Does it depend upon your face which of the +positions mentioned is to be assumed?" + +The two gentlemen accordingly threaded their way to the scene of +action; passing, among others, Squire Deacon and Mr. Simlins whom Mr. +Linden greeted together. Mr. Simlins' answer was a mighty grasp of the +hand. Squire Deacon's deserved little attention, and got it. + +The party were now on the lawn, at one side of which the boys had +clustered and were standing in expectation. + +"I think, Mr. Linden," said the doctor, "if you will explain to the +boys what is to become of them in the next hour, I will go and see +about the fair distributor of the favours--and then I suppose we shall +be ready." + +It was well Dr. Harrison chose such a messenger,--no one else could +have brought quietness out of those few dismayed minutes when the boys +first learned what was 'to become of them'; and the Judge would have +felt remorseful about his secret, had he seen the swift wings on which +Pleasure took her departure from the little group. It took all Mr. +Linden's skill, not to enforce submission, but to bring pleasure back; +perhaps nothing less than his half laughing half serious face and +words, could have kept some of the boys from running away altogether. +And while some tried to beg off, and some made manful efforts not to +feel afraid, others made desperate efforts to remember; and some of the +little ones could be reassured by nothing but the actual holding of Mr. +Linden's hand in theirs. So they stood, grouped in and out the trees at +the further edge of the lawn, till their teacher disengaged himself and +came back to the house, leaving the parting directions--to say what +they knew, and not try to say what they knew not. + +Meanwhile Dr. Harrison had found his sister, and after a little +consulting the two had pressed their father into the service; and then +the three sought Faith. She was discovered at last on the other lawn, +by one of the tables, Miss Harrison having dismayfully recollected that +she had asked Faith to help her dress them, and then had left her all +alone to do it. But Faith was not all alone; for Mr Simlins stood there +like a good-natured ogre, watching her handling and disposing of the +green leaves and late flowers with which she was surrounded, and now +and then giving a most extraordinary suggestion as to the same. + +"Faith," said Miss Harrison after she had introduced her brother,--"I +want you to give these favours to the boys. Somebody must do it, and I +can't--and you must!" + +"You see, my dear," said Judge Harrison, "Sophy and Julius want their +fête to go off as prettily as possible; and so they want you to do this +for them because you're the prettiest girl here." + +"Then I can't do it, sir," said Faith. She blushed very prettily, to be +sure, but she spoke very quietly. + +"Faith! you will do it for me?" said Miss Harrison. + +"I can't, Sophy." + +"Nobody would do it so well as you--half!" + +"But I can't do it at all." And Faith went on leafing her dishes. + +"I dare put in no petition of my own," said the doctor then; "but I +will venture to ask on the part of Mr. Linden, that you will do him and +the school such a service." + +Faith's dark eyes opened slightly. "Did he ask you, sir?" + +"I cannot answer that," said the doctor, a little taken aback. "I have +presumed on what I am sure are his wishes." + +He did not know what to make of her smile, nor of the simplicity with +which Faith answered, in spite of her varying colour, + +"You have been mistaken, sir." + +The doctor gave it up and said he was very sorry. + +"Then who _shall_ do it?" said Miss Harrison. "Miss Essie de Staff?" + +"She'll do," said the Judge. And the doctor, raising his eyebrows a +little, and dropping his concern, offered his arm to Faith to go to the +scene of action. So it happened that as Mr. Linden entered the hall +from one side door, he met the whole party coming in from the other, +the doctor carrying the basket of blue and red favours which he had +taken to present to Faith. But he stood still to let them pass, taking +the full effect of the favours, the doctor, the red leaves and their +white-robed wearer; and then followed in his turn. + +All the inhabitants of the house and grounds were now fast gathering on +the other lawn. Miss Sophy and her father separated different ways, the +former taking the basket to commit it to Miss de Staff; and the doctor +being obliged to go to his place in the performance, left his charge +where he might. But nobody minded his neighbour now; Faith did not; the +boys were drawn up in a large semicircle, and the doctor taking his +place in front of them, all in full view of the assembled townsmen of +Pattaquasset, proceeded to his duty of examiner. + +He did it well. He was evidently, to those who could see it, thoroughly +at home himself in all the subjects upon which he touched and made the +boys touch; so thoroughly, that he knew skilfully _where_ to touch, and +what to expect of them. He shewed himself a generous examiner too; he +keenly enough caught the weak and strong points in the various minds he +was dealing with, and gracefully enough brought the good to light, and +only shewed the other so much as was needful for his purposes. He did +not catch, nor entrap, nor press hardly; the boys had fair play but +they had favour too. + +The boys, on their part, were not slow to discover his good qualities; +and it was certainly a comfort to them to know that they were acquitted +or condemned on right grounds. Beyond that, there were curious traits +of character brought to light, for those who had eyes to read them. + +The two head boys--Reuben Taylor and Sam Stoutenburgh, though but +little apart in their scholarship were widely different in the +manifestation thereof. Sam Stoutenburgh's rather off-hand, dashing +replies, generally hit the mark; but the steady, quiet clearheadedness +of Reuben not only placed him in advance, but gave indications which no +one could read who had not the key to his character. He coloured +sometimes, but it was from modesty; while part of Sam Stoutenburgh's +blushes came from his curls. Little Johnny Fax, by dint of fixing his +eyes upon Mr. Linden's far-off form (he had been petitioned to stand in +sight) went bravely through his short part of the performance; and +proved that he knew what he knew, if he didn't know much; and of the +rest there need nothing be said. + +Among the lookers-on there were also indications. To those who did not +know him, Mr. Linden's face looked as unmoved as the pillar against +which he leaned,--yet the varying play of light and shade upon the one +was well repeated in the other. Squire Stoutenburgh nodded and smiled, +to himself and his neighbours, and made little aside +observations--"_That_ told, sir!"--"Always was a good +boy!--studious."--"Yes--Reuben Taylor does well--very well, considering +who his father is." + +That father the while, stood alone--even beyond the outskirts of the +gay party. With Miss Cilly's blue dress he had nothing in common--as +little with Faith's spotless white. Dark, weatherbeaten, dressed for +his boat and the clam banks, he stood there on the green turf as if in +a trance. Unable to follow one question or answer, his eager eye caught +every word of Reuben's voice; his intent gaze read first the assurance +that it would be right, then the assurance that it was. The whole world +might have swept by him in a pageant--and he would scarcely have turned +to look! + +There was one other listener perhaps, whose interest was as rapt as +his; that was Faith. But her interest was of more manifold character. +There was the natural feeling for and with the boys; and there was +sympathy for their instructor and concern for his honour, which latter +grew presently to be a very gratified concern. Then also Dr. Harrison's +examination was a matter of curious novelty; and back of all that, lay +in Faith's mind a deep, searching, pressing interest in the subject +matters of it. What of all that, _she_ knew,--how little,--and how much +the boys;--how vastly much Dr. Harrison; what far-reaching fields of +knowledge there were in some people's minds. Where was Faith's mind +going? Yet she was almost as outwardly quiet as Mr. Linden himself. All +her shew of feeling was in the intent eye, the grave face, and a little +deepening and deepening tinge in her cheeks. + +The questioning and answering was over--the boys were all in their +ranks--there was a little hush and stir of expectancy,--and Dr. +Harrison gave his hand to a very bright lady with a basket and led her +to a position by his side, filling the eye of the whole assembly. Faith +looked over to her with a tiny giving way of the lips which meant a +great self-gratulation that she was not in the lady's place. There she +stood, very much at home apparently,--Miss Essie de Staff, as fifty +mouths said at once. She was rather a little lady, not very young, nor +old; dressed in a gay-coloured plaid silk, with a jaunty little black +apron with pockets, black hair in curls behind her ears, and a glitter +of jewelry. It was not false jewelry, nor ill put on, and this was Miss +Essie de Staff. She belonged to the second great family of +Pattaquasset; she too had been abroad and had seen life like the +Harrisons; but somehow she had seen it in a different way; and while +the de Staffs had the shew, the Harrisons always had the reality of +precedence in the town. + +And Dr. Harrison, raising slightly again his voice, which was a +melodious one, said, + +"The ladies of Pattaquasset intend to honour with a blue ribband the +five elder boys who have spoken best; and with a favour of red ribband +the five little boys who have done the same on their part. Miss Essie +de Staff will do us the honour to bestow them.--Reuben Taylor, will you +come forward--here, if you please." + +The 'favours' made a little stir among the group; and Reuben, who had +been too much absorbed in the examination for its own sake to think +much of the question of precedence, came forward at first with +hesitation--then steadily and firmly. + +Miss Essie stepped a little forward to meet him, gave her basket to +Doctor Harrison, and taking a blue favour from it she smilingly +attached the same securely to the left breast of Reuben's coat. + +"Don't leave your place," said the doctor to him in a low tone;--"I +mean," he added smiling,--"go back to it and stay there.--Sam +Stoutenburgh!"-- + +The doctor spoke like a man a little amused at himself for the part he +was playing, but he did it well, nevertheless. And Reuben, who would +fain have put himself and his blue ribband out of sight behind the +rest, went back to his place, while Sam stepped briskly forward and +received the decoration in turn. Very different his air from +Reuben's,--very different Reuben's grave and grateful bend of the head +from the way in which Sam's hand covered at once his heart and the blue +ribband. The four boys next in degree to Reuben were severally invested +with their blue stars. + +"Johnny Fax!"--said Dr. Harrison. "Miss Essie, you are laying us under +nameless obligations.--Johnny, come and get your ribband." + +Johnny came--looking first at Dr. Harrison and then at Miss Essie, as +if a little uncertain what they were going to do with him; but +apparently the fluttering red favour pleased his fancy, for he smiled a +little, and then looked quite away over Miss Essie's shoulder as she +bent towards him. For which neglect of the lady's face his youth and +inexperience must account. But when the favour was on, Johnny's eyes +came back, and he said simply, + +"Thank you, ma'am. Shall I keep it always?" + +"By all means!" said Miss Essie. "Never part with it." + +The five little fellows were made splendid; and then there was a pause. +Miss Essie stepped back and was lost. Doctor Harrison made a sign with +his hand, and two servants came on the lawn bringing between them a +table covered with a red cloth. It was set down before Dr. Harrison and +his sister came beside him. + +"My dear friends," said the doctor raising his voice again, and giving +his sister at the same time the benefit of a slight play of face which +others were not so situated they could see,--"You have all done +yourselves and somebody else, a great deal of credit. I hope you will +thank him;--as we wish to shew our pleasure to you. It was not to be +expected that everybody would be first this time--though on the next +occasion I have no doubt that will prove to be the case; but as we +could not of course in consequence give stars to all, we will do the +best we can. Reuben Taylor--" + +Again Reuben came forward; the doctor had pulled off the red cloth, and +a tempting pile of books, large and small and nicely bound, rose up to +view upon the table. And Miss Harrison as Reuben came near, chose out +one of the best and handed it to him, saying softly, "You have done +very well." + +Now Miss Sophy Harrison was, as everyone knew and said, thoroughly good +and kind, like her father. She had chosen the books. And the one she +had given Reuben was a very nice copy of the Pilgrim's Progress. She +might have felt herself repaid by the one earnest look his eyes gave +her,--then he bowed silently and retired. + +The list would be too long to go through. Every one was pleased this +time; the Harrisons had done the thing well; and it may only be noted +in passing that Johnny Fax's delight and red ribband were crowned and +finished oil with an excellent Robinson Crusoe. Then broke up and +melted off the assembled throng, like--I want a simile,--like the +scattering of a vapoury cloud in the sky. It was everywhere and nowhere +directly--that which before had been a distinct mass. + +"Faith," said Miss Cecilia, almost before this process or dispersion +commenced,--"where _did_ you get such a pretty nosegay this time of +year?" + +"They grew--" said Faith smiling. + +"Did they come out of your own garden." + +"We don't keep oak trees in our garden." + +"I declare! it's elegant. Faith, give me just one of those red leaves, +won't you? I want it." + +"No indeed!" said Faith, starting back and shielding the oak leaves +with her hand, as that of Miss Deacon approached them. "What are you +thinking of?" + +"Thinking of!" said Cecilia colouring. "So, Faith, I hear you've set up +for a school teacher?" + +"I've one little scholar," said Faith quietly. "That isn't much +'setting up,' Cecilia." + +"One scholar!" said Cecilia contemptuously. "Didn't you go over with +all the boys to Neanticut the other day?" + +"Yes," said Faith laughing, "indeed I did; but I assure you I didn't go +to teach school." + +"Miss Derrick," said Dr. Harrison, offering his arm to Faith,--"my +sister begs the favour of your assistance--instantly and urgently--you +know I presume for what?" + +"Yes, I know, Dr. Harrison," said Faith smiling--"I left it +unfinished"-- + +And the two walked away together. + +"Seems to me, Mr. Simlins," said Squire Deacon, watching Faith and her +convoy with a certain saturnine satisfaction; "I say it seems to me, +that the Judge aint making the thing right side upwards. The boys get +all the prizes--without Dr. Harrison thinks _he_ has, and the teacher +don't seem to be much count. Now what a handsomer thing it would have +been to make the boys get _him_ something with their own hard cash,--a +pleasure boat--" added the Squire, "or a Bible--or anything of that +sort. I thought all this philustration was to set _him_ up." + +Mr. Simlins gave a kind of grunt. + +"It haint pulled him _down_ much," he said,--"as I see. And I suppose +Judge Harrison thinks that drivin' wedges under a church steeple is a +surrogate work--without he saw it was topplin'." + +Without getting any too clear a notion of the meaning of these +words--it took a lively imagination to follow Mr. Simlins in some of +his flights, the Squire yet perceived enough to stay his own words a +little; and he passed away the tedium of the next few minutes by +peering round the corner of the house and getting far-off glimpses of +Faith. + +"She looks 'most like a spectral illusion," he said admiringly. "The +tablecloths aint bleached a bit whiter 'n her dress." + +"She aint no more like a spectre than I'm like a ghost," said Mr. +Simlins. "Washin' and ironin' 'll make a white frock for any woman." + +Then stalking up to Mr. Linden accosted him grimly, after his fashion. +"Well Mr. Linden--what d' you think of that farm at Neanticut? don't +you want to take it of me?" + +"There are too many fences between me and it," was the smiling reply. + +"It's good land," Mr. Simlins went on; "you can't do better than settle +down there. I'd like to have you for a tenant--give you the land easy." + +"Let me pay you in nuts?" said Mr. Linden. + +But then came up other farmers and heads of families to claim Mr. +Linden's attention; men whose boys were at the school; and who now in +various states of gratification, but all gratified, came one after +another to grasp his hand and thank him for the good he had done and +was doing them. + +"You're the first man, sir," said one, a broad-shouldered, tall, strong +man, with a stern reserved face,--"you're the first man that has been +able to make that boy of mine--Phil--attend to anything, or go to +school regular. He talks hard sometimes,--but you do what you like with +him, Mr. Linden! I give you my leave. He's smart, and he aint a bad +boy, at heart; but he's wild, and he has his own way and it aint always +a good one. His mother never had any government of him," said the +father, looking towards the identical person whom Dr. Harrison had +characterized as 'the perspective of a woman,' and who certainly had +the air of one whose mind--what she had--was shut up and shut off into +the further extremities of possibility. + +Then came up Judge Harrison. + +"Well, Mr. Linden, I hope you have been gratified. I have. I declare I +have!--very much. You are doing a great thing for us here, sir; and I +don't doubt it is a gratification to you to know it. I haven't made up +my mind what we shall do to thank _you_--we've been thanking the +boys--but that's, you know,--that's a political expedient. My heart's +in the other thing." + +"Squire Deacon was givin' me about the same perspective of the case," +said Mr. Simlins,--"only he thought he warnt the one to do the +thaukin'." + +Mr. Linden's face, through all these various gratulations, had been a +study. One part of his nature answered, eye to eye and hand to hand, +the thanks and pleasure so variously expressed. But back of that lay +something else,--a something which gave even his smile a tinge,--it was +the face of one who + + "Patiently, and still expectant, + Looked out through the wooden bars." + + +Sometimes grave, at others a queer sense of his own position seemed to +touch him; and his manner might then remind one of a swift-winged +bird--who walking about on the grass for business purposes, is +complimented by a company of crickets on his superior powers of +locomotion. And it was with almost a start that he answered Judge +Harrison-- + +"Thank _me_, sir? I don't think I deserve any thanks." + +"I am sure we owe them," said the Judge,--"but that's another view of +the case, I know. Well--it's a good kind of debt to owe--and to pay!--" + +And he was lost again among some other of his guests. In the gradual +shifting and melting away of groups, it happened that Mr. Linden found +himself for a moment alone, when the doctor again approached him. + +"Did I do your office well?" he said gently, and half putting his arm +through Mr. Linden's as if to lead him to the house. + +The answer was laughingly given-- + + "'What poet would not mourn to see + His brother write as well as he?'" + + +"Well," said the doctor, answering the tone, "did I hit your boys?--the +right ones?" + +"My boys in point of scholarship?--yes, almost as carefully as I +should." + +"I am glad you were satisfied," said the doctor;--"and I'm glad it's +over!--What sort of a life do you lead here in Pattaquasset? I don't +know it. How can one get along here?" + +He spoke in a careless sort of confidential manner, as perfectly aware +that his companion was able to answer him. They were very slowly +sauntering up to the house. + +"One can get along here in various ways--" said Mr. Linden,--"as in +other places. One can (_if_ one can) subside to the general level, or +one can (with the like qualification) rise above it. The paths through +Pattaquasset are in no wise peculiar, yet by no means alike." + +"No," said the doctor, with another side look at him--"I suppose as +much. I see you're a philosopher. Do you carry a spirit-level about +with you?" + +"Define--" said Mr. Linden, with a smile which certainly belonged to +the last philosopher he had been in company with. + +"I see you do," said the doctor. "What's your opinion of philosophy? +that it adds to the happiness of the world in general?" + +"You ask broad questions, Dr. Harrison--considering the many kinds of +philosophy, and the unphilosophical state of the world in general." + +The doctor laughed a little. "I don't know," said he,--"I sometimes +think the terms have changed sides, and that 'the world in general' has +really the best of it. But do you know what particular path in +Pattaquasset we are treading at this minute?" + +"A path where philosophy and happiness are supposed to part company, I +imagine," said Mr. Linden. + +"Pre-cisely--" said the doctor. "By the way, if anything in my father's +house or library can be of the least convenience to you while you are +travelling the somewhat unfurnished ways of Pattaquasset, I hope you +will use both as your own.--Yes, I am taking you to the supper +table--or indeed they are plural to-night--Sophy, I have brought Mr. +Linden to you, and I leave you to do what you will with him!" + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + +With a slight congee the doctor left thorn and went back again; and +then came the full rush of all the guests, small and great. Miss +Harrison claimed Mr. Linden's assistance to marshal and arrange the +boys at their table--one being given specially to them; and then +established him as well as circumstances permitted at another--between +Miss Cecilia Deacon and Miss Essie de Staff. Miss Harrison herself did +not sit down. The guests were many, the servants far too few; and Miss +Harrison and her brother with one or two helpers, of whom Faith was +one, went round from table to table; attending to everybody's wants. +The supply of all eatables and drinkables was ample and perfect enough; +but without the quick and skilful eyes and hands of these educated +waiters, the company could not have been entirely put in possession of +them. So Faith's red oak leaves did after all adorn the entertainment, +and publicly, though most unconsciously on her part. + +"Reuben," she whispered at his shoulder, "there are no roast clams +here--shall I give you some jelly? I see you have got substantials." + +"No thank you, Miss Faith," said Reuben--adding with some hesitation, +"I believe it's ungrateful in me, but I don't want to eat." + +"Are you eating your book all the while? I am so glad, Reuben! Where is +your father?" + +"I think he's home, Miss Faith--he must be by this time." + +"Home! I'm sorry. I've been looking for him. Sam--what can I get you? +coffee?" + +"Miss Faith!" said Sam standing up in his place, "I'd rather have one +of those leaves you've been wearing all day than all the coffee that +ever was burnt!" + +"Leaves! you foolish boy," said Faith, her own colour in an instant +emulating them, and as before her hand went up to shield them. "I can't +give you one of these, Sam--I'll bring you some coffee." + +Away she ran, coming back presently with a cup and a piece of jelly +cake, bestowing a fellow piece upon Reuben, + +"You can get plenty of oak leaves anywhere, Sam," she said laughing a +little. + +"But you haven't worn 'em, Miss Faith--and I can't keep this!" said Sam +surveying the cake with a very serio-comic face. + +"Well, who wants to?" said Joe Deacon. "Hand us over the other cake, +that's got nothing between. If you're settin' up to get round anybody, +Sam Stoutenburgh, you'll find there's two or three in a bunch--I tell +you." Which remark Faith was happily too far off to hear. + +"Faith," said Mrs. Somers, leaning back and stopping her as she passed; +"do you know why I let Sophy keep you running about so?" + +"I like to do it, Mrs. Somers." + +"Well that's not the reason. You ought to sit up at the head of the +table for your skill in arranging flowers. I didn't know it was in you, +child." + +And Mrs. Somers bent closer to Faith to take the breath of the roses, +but softly for she loved flowers herself. + +Faith bore it jealously, for she was afraid of another invading hand; +and blushing at the praise she could not disclaim ran away as soon as +she was free. But as the tide of supper-time began to ebb, the doctor +arrested Faith in her running about and saying that his sister had had +no supper yet and wanted company, led her to the place his aunt had +spoken of, a clear space at one end of the table, where the doctor also +discovered _he_ had taken no supper. The rest of the party sat at ease, +or began to scatter again about the grounds. A new attraction was +appearing there, in the shape of Chinese lanterns, which the servants +and others were attaching in great numbers to the trees and shrubbery. +The sun went down, the shades of evening were fast gathering. At last +Miss Harrison rose. + +"When the lamps are lit, Miss Derrick," said the doctor as they +followed her example, "there is a particular effect which I will have +the pleasure of shewing you--if you will allow me." + +"Dr. Harrison, how do _you_ do!" said a voice that sounded +like--perhaps as much like the bark of a red squirrel as anything; and +a little figure, with everything faded but her ribbands, and everything +full but her cheeks, looked up with a pair of good, kind, honest eyes +into the doctor's face. "It makes a body feel young--or old--I don't +know which, to see you again," she said. "Though indeed I know just how +old you are, without looking into the Bible. Not but that's a good +place to look, for various things. And there's a great variety of +things there,--if a body had time to read 'em all, which I haven't. I +used to read like a scribe when I was young--till my eyes got bad; but +a body can't do much without eyes, especially when they have to sew all +the time, as I do. I always did think it was one indemnification for +being a man, that a body wouldn't have to sew. Nor do much of anything +else--for 'man works from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never +done.' And I always think the work after sundown comes hardest--it does +to me, because my eyes are so bad.--Well, Miss Cilly! don't your dress +fit!"--It may be proper to mention that this last sentence was a little +undertone. + +"You have given me, Miss Bezac," said the doctor, "what I have wanted +all my life until now--an indemnification for being a man!" + +"Is that the way they talk over in France?" said Miss Bezac--"well, it +don't make a body want to go there, there's that about it. And there +always is something about everything. And I've something to say to you, +Faith, so don't you run away. You've done running enough for one day, +besides." + +Faith was in no danger of running away. For while Miss Bezac was +running off her sentences, a little low voice at Faith's side said +"Ma'am!"--by way of modestly drawing her attention to Johnny Fax and +his red ribband. + +Faith stooped down to be nearer the level of the red ribband. + +"You did bravely, Johnny. And you got a book too. I guess Mr. Linden +was pleased with you to-night," she added softly. + +"O he's always pleased with me," said Johnny simply. "But I wasn't +brave, ma'am,--I was frightened." Then in a lower tone, as if he were +telling a great secret, Johnny added, + +"I'm coming to you next Sunday if it's cold weather"--and looked up in +her face to see the effect of this mysterious announcement. + +"You, Johnny!" said Faith, with a flash of remembrance of the time she +had last seen him, which made her almost sorrowful. "Well, dear--we'll +do the best we can," she added in a tone which was sweet at least as +tenderness could make it. The child looked at her a little wistfully. + +"Mr. Linden says he don't think I'm big enough to keep warm out of +doors any more," he said with childish inexplicitness. + +"I don't think you are," said Faith. "Well, Johnny--you come to me next +Sunday, and we'll try!"--And she gave him, what Sam Stoutenburgh would +probably have mortgaged his life for,--a soft touch of her lips upon +his cheek. And Sam Stoutenburgh was not far off. + +"Miss Faith!" he said as she rose to her former position,--"stand out +of the way, Johnny, there's a good boy!--mayn't I see you home +to-night? Please don't refuse me everything!" + +"There isn't room in the wagon, Sam," said Faith. + +"Are you going to ride?" said Sam. "But I may go with you to the wagon?" + +"Yes if you like," said Faith looking a little puzzled and amused. "I +suppose you may." + +"Are there any more to come?" said Miss Bezac, whose patience had +outlasted that of Dr. Harrison,--"because if there are, I'd rather +wait--I don't like to be stopped when once I begin. And if I was you, +Faith--(how pretty you look!)--I'd keep still and not let my head be +turned; the old direction's the best; and after all directions are more +than dresses. For what's the odds between an embroidered vest and a +plain one? Not that it's much to embroider it--I used to fiddle faddle +many a one, till I lost my eyes; and I'll teach you to do it in a +minute, if you like." With which kind and lucid proposal, Miss Bezac +put her hand softly on Faith's waist and smoothed out an imaginary +wrinkle in the white dress. + +"Dear Miss Bezac," said Faith, not losing her amused look,--"I don't +want to embroider waistcoats. What are you talking of?" + +"I know--" said Miss Bezac, "and I suppose that's enough. If folks +don't know what you mean they can't say anything against it. But you +don't know what you want, child,--any more than I did. And do you know, +sometimes I wish I'd never found out? But whenever you do know, you can +come to me; and I'll fix you off so you won't know yourself. It's a +pleasant way to lose a body's identity, I can tell you. Now give me a +kiss and I'll go, for I live 'tother side of creation--where you never +come; and why you don't come, and bring him, I don't see--but I've seen +him, in spite of you. Here he comes, too"--said Miss Bezac, "so I'll be +off." + +There was such a variety of confusions in this speech that Faith was +hopeless of setting them right. She stood looking at the speaker, and +did not try. However, everybody was accustomed to Miss Bezac's +confusions. + +"Are you pledged to stand still on this particular spot?" Mr. Linden +said at her side. + +"No indeed," said Faith with ready smile,--"but people have been +talking to me--" + +"Yes, and there is no telling how many I shall interfere with if I take +you away now." + +"I don't care--" said Faith. "Only Dr. Harrison said he wanted to shew +me something when the lamps were lit." + +"When they are lighting? or when they are lit?" + +"When they are lit, he said." + +"Well they are not lit yet," said Mr. Linden, "and before they are I +want you to get a view of people and things in twilight perspective. +For which purpose, Miss Faith, I must take you to the extreme verge of +society and the lawn--if you will let me." + +"I would like to go anywhere you please, Mr. Linden." And Faith's face +gave modest token that she would like it very much. + +He gave her his arm, and then by skilful navigation kept clear of the +groups most likely to interrupt their progress; passing rather towards +the boy quarter, making Sam Stoutenburgh sigh and Joe Deacon whistle, +with the most frigid disregard of their feelings. The shrubbery at the +foot of the lawn was in more than twilight now, and its deeper shadow +was good to look out from; giving full effect to the dying light on +earth and sky. The faint rosecoloured clouds hung over a kaleidoscope +of dresses, which was ever shifting and making new combinations, +passing into black spots in the shadow of the trees, or forming a broad +spread of patchwork on the open lawn. The twilight perspective was far +more witching than the sunlight full view. + +"How pretty that is!" said Faith delightedly. "Thank you, Mr. Linden. I +don't believe Dr. Harrison will shew me any effect so good as this. How +pretty and odd it is!" + +"Don't you know," he said, "that you never should thank me for doing +pleasant things?" + +"Why, Mr. Linden?" she said in a tone a little checked. + +"Why?--because I like to do them." + +"Well," she said laughing slightly, "that makes me want to thank you +more." + +"It don't make me deserve the thanks, however. Do you perceive the +distant blue of Miss Cecilia's dress? does it make you think of the +blue ether over your head?" + +"Not the least!" said Faith much amused. "What makes you ask me that, +Mr. Linden?" + +"I should like to hear why it does not?" + +"The two things are so very, very far apart," Faith said, after a +moment's consideration. "I don't see what could make me think of them +together. The only thing is that both are blue, but I should have to +think to remember that." + +"You haven't answered me yet," he said smiling. "Why are they far +apart?--your blue gentians there, are as far below the sky in number of +miles--yet from them to the sky the transition is easy." + +"Yes--" said Faith looking down at her blue gentian. "Why is it, Mr. +Linden? But this is God's work too," she added softly. + +"I suppose that is the deep root of the matter. The ruined harp of +man's nature yet answers to a breath from heaven as to no other touch. +Then blue has been so long the emblem of truth, that separated from +truth one can scarce, as you say, realize what colour it is." + +"Then Mr. Linden," said Faith after a moment's silence, with the tone +and the look of quick pleasure,--"is _this_ what you mean by 'reading' +things?" + +"Yes--" he said with a smile, + + "'To rightly spell + Of every star that heaven doth shew, + And every herb that sips the dew.'" + + +"But how far can you read?" said Faith. "And I never thought of such +reading till--till a little while ago! How far can you read, Mr. +Linden?" + +"I don't know," he said,--"because I don't know how far I _cannot_ +read! Yet if 'the invisible things of God' may be known 'by the things +which are seen,' there is at least room for ample study. To some +people, Miss Faith, the world is always (with the change of one +adjective) an incomprehensible little green book; while others read a +few pages now, and look forward to knowing the whole hereafter." + +There was a pause, a little longer than usual. + +"And you say I must not thank you?"--Faith said very low. + +"I say I think you have no cause." + +She was silent. + +"Has the day been pleasant?" Mr. Linden asked, as they walked up and +down. + +"Yes, very pleasant. I liked what you didn't like, Mr. Linden--all that +examination business. And I was very glad for Reuben and little Johnny." + +"How do you know I didn't like it?" + +"I don't 'know'--I thought you didn't," she said looking at him. + +"You don't like to say why?" + +"Yes! I thought you didn't like it, Mr. Linden, when Judge Harrison +first proposed it. You wished he would give us the pleasure without the +shewing off." + +"Well, did you also know," he said with a peculiar little smile, "that +one of my best scholars was not examined?" + +"No--who do you mean?" she said earnestly. + +He laughed, and answered, + +"One who would perhaps prefer a private examination at home--and to +whom I have thought of proposing it." + +"An examination?" said Faith, wondering and with considerable +heightening of colour, either at the proposal or at the rank among +scholars assigned her. + +"You need not be frightened," Mr. Linden said gravely--"if anybody +should be, it is I, at my own boldness. I am a little afraid to go on +now--though it is something I have long wanted to say to you." + +"What is it, Mr. Linden?" she said timidly. + +"I have thought--" he paused a moment, and then went quietly on. "You +have given me reason to think, that there are other desirable things +besides French of which you have no knowledge. I have wished very much +to ask you what they are, and that you would let me--so far as I +can--supply the deficiency." It was said with simple frankness, yet +with a manner that fully recognized the delicate ground he was on. + +The rush of blood to Faith's face he could see by the lamplight, but +she hesitated for an answer, and hesitated,--and her head was bent with +the weight of some feeling. + +"I should be too glad, Mr. Linden!" she said at last, very low, but +with unmistakeable emphasis. + +"Then if you will let me see to-morrow what you are doing with that +other little book, I will see what companions it should have." And +warned by the kindling lamps on every side, he led the way a little +more into the open lawn, that Faith might at least be found if sought. +That allowed him to see too, the look he had raised in her face; the +little smile on the lips, the flush of colour, the stir of deep +pleasure that kept her from speaking. Yet when they had taken a few +steps on the broad lawn and other people would soon be nearing them, +she suddenly said, softly, + +"What 'other' book do you mean, Mr. Linden?" + +"I don't know how many there may be, Miss Faith, but I _meant_ one +which I tried to get at the store one day, and found that the last copy +had passed into your hands." + +"The arithmetic!" said Faith. "That was how you knew it.--There is Dr. +Harrison looking for me!" she added, in a tone which gentle as it was +would have turned that gentleman to the right about if he had heard +it--which he did not--and if he had not been indifferent on the point +of all such tones,--which he was. + +"Stars shine by their own light!" said the doctor as he came up. "I +have no need to ask, 'Where is Miss Derrick?' Your Quercus rubra there +is brilliant at any distance, with a red gleam. You have Mars on your +breast, and Hesperus in your eye! It is heaven on earth!" + +Faith could not choose but laugh at the mixture of gallantry and fun +and flattery in the doctor's manner, though his meaning was, to her, +doubtful. Other answer she made none. + +"And so," said Mr. Linden, "you make the stars shine by their own +light, and Miss Derrick by the light of the stars!" + +"Advances constantly making in the sciences!" said the doctor with a +wave of his hand. "I dare say you are a better astronomer than I am;--I +haven't kept up with the latest discoveries. But Mr. Linden, may I +interfere with your heaven for a moment, and persuade these stars to +shine, for that length of time, upon less favoured regions? With +another revolution of the earth they will rise upon you again." + +"I shall not persuade the stars for you," said Mr. Linden. + +"I will endeavour so far," said the doctor turning to Faith. "I had the +honour to offer to shew Miss Derrick the peculiar effect of Chinese +lanterns in Pattaquasset--may I hope that she will allow me to fulfil +my promise?" + +He took possession of Faith, and with a graceful "Au revoir!"--to Mr. +Linden, led her away. + +The effect of the lanterns was very pretty, and to her eyes very +curious. So were the lanterns themselves, be fore one and another of +which Faith stopped and looked with charmed eyes, and the doctor +nothing loth gave her charming details. + +"After all, it is only child's play," he said as he turned away. "Why +should we want Pattaquasset to look like China?" + +"For one night?" said Faith. + +"Well, for one night," said the doctor. "But you haven't got little +feet on, have you?" said he looking down at the edge of Faith's white +dress in mock alarm;--"I shouldn't like the transformation to go too +far." + +Faith laughed. + +"Reassure me," said the doctor. "Nothing can be more unlike the Mongol +type than the pure Circassian I have before me,--yet let me see the +slipper. I want to be sure that all is right." + +He persisted, and to stop the absurdity of the thing, Faith shewed him, +not indeed her slipper, but the most un-Chinese, un-French, neat little +shoe thick enough for walking, in which she had come to Judge +Harrison's party. + +"Alarmingly near!" said the doctor peering at it--"but the proportions +are perfect. It is not Chinese. Thank you. I have seen so many odd +things in my life, Miss Derrick,--and people,--that I never know what +to expect; and _anything_ right from head to foot, is a marvel." + +They moved on again and sauntered round and round in the paths of the +shrubbery, Faith hardly knew whither. In truth the doctor's +conversation was amusing enough to leave her little care. Very few +indeed were the words he drew from her; but with all their simplicity +and modesty, he seemed to be convinced that there was something behind +them worth pleasing; at least he laid himself out to please. He easily +found that what she knew of life and the world was very little, and +that she was very ready to take any glimpses he would give her into the +vast unknown regions so well known to him. Always in his manner +carelessly graceful, Faith never dreamed of the real care with which he +brought up subjects, and discussed them, that he thought would interest +her. He told of distant countries and scenes--he detailed at length +foreign experiences--he described people--he gave her pictures of +manners and customs,--all new to her ears, strange and delightful; and +so easily yet so masterly given, that she took it all in an easy full +flow of pleasure. So it happened that Faith did not very well know how +they turned and wound in and out through the walks; she was in +Switzerland and at Paris and at Rome, all the while. + +She came back pretty suddenly to Pattaquasset. As they paused to watch +the glitter of one of the lamps on the shining leaves of a holly tree, +several of the boys, seeking their own pleasure, came sauntering by. +The last of these had time to observe her, and swaggering close up +under her face said, loud enough to be heard, + +"You aint, neither!--I know you aint. Reuben Taylor says you aint." + +The lamplight did not serve to reveal Faith's changes of face and +colour, neither did Dr. Harrison wait to observe them. + +"What do you mean, sir?" he said, catching hold of the boy's arm. "Why +do you speak so to a lady?--_what_ isn't she?" + +"Somebody's sweetheart," said the boy resolutely. "She aint. Reuben +Taylor says she aint." + +"_You_'ll never be, my fine fellow," said the doctor letting him +go,--"if you don't learn more discretion. I must tell Mr. Linden his +boys want a trifle of something besides Algebra. _That_ don't give all +the relative values of things." + +"Pray do not! don't speak of it, Dr. Harrison!" said Faith. + +He tried to see her face, but he could not. + +"Hardly worth while," he said lightly. "Boys will be boys--which is an +odd way of excusing them for not being civilized things. However if you +excuse him, I will." + +Faith said nothing. She was trying to get over the sudden jar of those +words. They had not told her anything she did not believe--she thought +no other; but they gave her nevertheless a keen stir of pain--a revival +of the pain she had quieted at Neanticut; and somehow this was worse +than that. Could Reuben Taylor talk about her so?--could Reuben Taylor +have any _authority_ for doing it? But that question would not stand +answering. Faith's red oak leaves were a little AEgis to her then, a +tangible precious representative of all the answer that question would +not wait for. No sting of pain could enter that way. But the pain was +bad enough; and under the favouring shadowy light of the lamps she +strove and strove to quiet it; while the doctor went on talking. + +"Indeed,"--said he--going on with the subject of Phil's speech,--"I am +obliged to him for his information--which was of course incorrect. But +I am very glad to hear it nevertheless. Other people's sweethearts, you +know, are 'tabooed'--sacred ground--not to be approached without danger +to all concerned. But now--if you will allow me, I think I shall claim +you for mine." + +Whatever _look_ the words may have, they did not sound rude. They were +said with a careless half-amused, half gentle manner, which might leave +his hearer in doubt whether the chief purpose of them were not to fall +pleasantly on her ear and drive away any disagreeable remainders of +Phil's insolence. But Faith scarce heard him. She was struggling with +that unbidden pain, and trying with all the simplicity and truth of her +nature and with the stronger help she had learned to seek, to fight it +down. She had never thought such an utterly vain thought as that +suggested in Phil's words; in her humility and modesty she chid herself +that it should have come into her head even when other people's words +had forced it there. Her humility was very humble now. And in it she +quietly took up with the good she had, of which her roses were even +then breathing sweet reminders in her face; putting from her all +thought of good that did not belong to her and she could not deserve. + +The uncertain light favoured her well, or Dr. Harrison would have seen +too much of her face-play. They had been going on and on, and the +doctor had been as usual talking, and she had managed now and then to +seem to give an answer--she never remembered to what; and her part in +the conversation all along had been so modestly small that the doctor +hardly knew when or whether she had ceased to comprehend him. But they +emerged at last upon the lawn, where Faith was taken possession of and +marched off by the old Judge, nothing loth. + +The doctor casting about for another fish to throw his line at, spied +Reuben Taylor, standing alone, and eying as Mr. Linden and Faith had +done the gay scene about the house, now gay with the many-coloured +lamps. + +"Well, my man," said the doctor easily accosting him as he stood there, +"you did very well this afternoon. How long have you been at the +school?" + +Reuben made answer with his usual respectful courtesy. + +"Are you a friend of Miss Derrick's?" + +"I think Miss Derrick is my friend, sir," said Reuben with a little +flush. + +"Is she?" said the doctor. "Well don't you think that comes to the same +thing?" + +"No sir." + +"No? What's the difference? I'm not examining you now--I am asking for +information." + +"I think you must know, sir," said Reuben, respectfully but firmly, +after a glance at his questioner. + +"Do you?" said the doctor laughing slightly. "Well, if you are not her +friend, it don't signify. I was going to remark to you, if you _were_, +that ladies don't generally care to have their private affairs talked +about, and however much you may know, it is not always worth while to +tell it." + +"I neither know nor have said anything, Dr. Harrison," said Reuben, +drawing himself up a little, and looking full in the doctor's face. + +"You're Reuben Taylor, aren't you?" + +"Yes sir--I'm not anybody else though." + +"No," said the doctor carelessly. "Well, it isn't necessary you should +be, for present purposes. I heard you quoted as authority just now, on +something which touched that lady's affairs, whose friend you say you +are not--and I think, _your_ friend though she may be, she was not +particularly gratified with your interference." + +"Miss Faith knew it was a wrong quotation," said Reuben quietly. + +"You are sure of that?" + +"Quite sure, sir--if it was anything about her which ought not to have +said." + +"Don't know that it was," said the doctor; "it's well enough sometimes +to set people right when they are wrong--what I say is, that ladies +don't always thank one for it." + +Reuben flushed a little. + +"You don't know me, Dr. Harrison," he said--"I can't expect you to take +my word; but I have nothing to add to it." + +"And I have nothing to add to mine," said the doctor lightly. "I heard +you quoted--that's all; I supposed you would know what for." + +"Who did you hear, sir?" + +"Don't know, really," said the doctor--"only he was a rude fellow--if +you can tell one by such a description among your mates, it was he." + +And the doctor strolled away. + +Reuben on his part seemed to recognize the description, for taking a +sort of intuitive bee-line through people and trees, he suddenly +brought up with the question, + +"Phil Davids, what have you been saying about me?" + +"I s'pose you think folks have nothing to do but talk about you now. +You're a long way out!"--was the careless answer. + +"What did you say I said?" said Reuben. + +"I never heard you say anything, as I know, that was worth tellin' +over. When I do, I'll let somebody know it, I tell _you_." + +"I suppose that means that you won't answer my question," said Reuben. +"What I want to know is, not what I said, but what you say I said." + +"About what?" + +"About Miss Faith Derrick." + +"I don't say you said nothing about her--I never heard you call her +name, as I know." + +"Like enough," said Reuben, with a sort of resolute patience; "but what +did you say I said that had to do with her in any way?" + +"Who do you think you air?" said Phil. + +"I tell you what, Phil Davids," said Sam Stoutenburgh, who had heard +the last question or two, "if you don't keep your tongue off Miss +Derrick, I'll pitch you up into a pine tree so far that you'll see +stars before you come down--or I'm not Stoutenburgh nor stout, +neither!" and Sam--who was a little of a young giant--backed Phil up +against the tree that was nearest in a sort of preparatory way that was +rather breathless. Phil however was as tough as shoe leather. + +"Suppos'n you keep eyes off her, then," said he struggling. "It's a +poor rule that don't work both ways." + +"What have you been about?" said Sam,--"come, own up for once--just to +try how it feels." + +"What have _you?_" said Phil. "I aint up to half as many shines as you, +Sam Stoutenburgh." + +"I should think not!" said Sam disdainfully. + +"O let him alone, Sam!" said Reuben--"what's the use?" + +"Little enough use--" said Sam, "or matter either,--everybody knows +Phil Davids. Pity he wouldn't make his own acquaintance!" And releasing +his prisoner Sam turned disdainfully and Reuben sorrowfully towards the +house. But Reuben did not go very near. A wistful look or two towards +the lighted front and the clustering guests, and he paused, leaving Sam +to go on alone. + +Sam's bashfulness was happily not of the uncompromising kind, therefore +he not only found Faith, but she found him--ready to claim her +promise--the very moment she was ready to go. + +"But I don't know whether the wagon is here, Sam," said Faith. Other +wagons were come, and driving off, and a little procession of colours +was setting forth on foot, up and down the street from Judge +Harrison's. The hall was full of people, getting hoods on and taking +leave. + +"Well, Miss Faith," said Sam, "we can walk to where it ought to be, and +if it isn't there maybe you'll let me go further." + +"But I can't go without seeing my mother, Sam, and I don't know where +she is." + +"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mr. Linden's voice, while the speaker laid +both hands on the boy's shoulders, "what are you about?" + +"Miss Faith said I might go as far as the wagon with her, sir," said +Sam looking down. + +"The wagon is not here," said Mr. Linden,--"Mr. Skip is probably +asleep." + +"Then I may see you home, Miss Faith?" was the joyous comment. + +"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mr. Linden again, preventing Faith's reply, +and giving Sam a gentle shake. "Isn't one favour a day enough for you?" +he added presently. + +"No sir!" said Sam boldly. + +"I suppose I must give way before a blue ribband," said Mr. Linden +smiling, yet as if he was much inclined to lift Sam out of the way. +"Miss Faith, the matter is in your hands." + +But Faith did not smile, and looked, or was it his fancy?--ever so +little careworn. + +"What matter, Mr. Linden?" she said simply. + +"Whether you will take charge of this boy as far as his father's gate. +I will try and take care of you, after that." + +"Will that do, Sam?" said Faith pleasantly, as she threw her scarf over +her head. + +"I'm glad to go any distance with you, Miss Faith," said Sam, but half +content--or a quarter! for that was the distance assigned him. + +"Well behave yourself then," said Mr. Linden, removing his hands. A +parting injunction Sam's dignity would have dispensed with. + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + +The evening was very still. A little too cool for insect voices, a +little too late in the season for night birds, the soft dropping of the +yellow leaves scarce stirred those already fallen. Few sounds came from +the houses; for all Pattaquasset had been out, and that portion which +had got home was tired and thinking of bed, while the few stragglers +yet abroad were far from the late scene of action, on their lonely +homeward roads. Squire Deacon, with Joe for a thorn in his side, was +opening his own door for Miss Cecilia, and Miss Bethia Bezac, at 'the +other side of creation,' mused over the possibility of again (without +eyes) embroidering waistcoats. Thus when the clock struck eight, the +earth seemed asleep and the stars at watch over it. + +At about that point of time, Sam Stoutenburgh and his fair companion +were near the parting gate; and Sam, not supposing himself within range +of other eyes, had bent down over Faith's glove in a very demonstrative +manner; and she would certainly have received an unwonted proof of his +devotion, if Mr. Linden--who had in truth been all the time not very +far off--had not just then been very near. + +"Take care, Sam--" he said,--"you are exceeding directions." A remark +which sent Sam through the gate with more haste than coolness, while +Mr. Linden stepped forward into his place. + +"Your mother rode home with Mrs. Somers, Miss Faith, and this little +shawl was requested to walk home with you," he said, wrapping it round +her; for which he received a quiet little "Thank you." He put her hand +on his arm, and once past the gate walked very slowly; moderating his +steps to hers, and taking the most leisurely pace; perhaps to give her +the full sedative effect of the night. Those faint breaths of air, that +soft hush of everything, that clear starry sky,--so high, so +still,--there was balm in them all. + +And for a while Mr. Linden let them do their work alone,--then he spoke. + +"One of my scholars is very tired to night. I'm afraid I have done +wrong in letting her walk home." + +"O no!" said Faith with a little start,--"I like to walk very much, Mr. +Linden; it's very pleasant.--And I am not tired," she added in a soft +quiet voice. + +"What is the difference between being tired, and being in want of rest?" + +She looked at him again, and her words did not come at once. + +"I suppose the difference is, that in one case you can get what you +want--and in the other, you have to wait for it." + +"Till when?" + +She laughed, somewhat uneasily, and asked him what he meant. + +"I hardly know how to make my question plainer, Miss Faith. I suppose I +am of an impatient disposition, but the idea of waiting an indefinite +time for rest is not pleasant to me." + +"But can you always get it as soon as you would like to have +it?"--Faith asked with a kind of timid doubt, as not knowing but his +power might extend so far. + +"Why not?--seeing rest is like some sweet wind, which cannot blow its +soft gale till there is a clear space for it, why should it linger when +the space is clear?--why not rest when we are weary?" + +"But can you always get the clear space for it?" Faith asked, looking +at him wonderingly. + +He smiled. + +"I am talking of what may be done, Miss Faith--not of what I do. But I +wish you would let me try my powers for you to-night. How comes there +to be a demand?--how comes there _not_ to be a supply?" + +"Of rest?" said Faith. "Oh there is! At least," she added +reluctantly,--"there will be. There is now, Mr. Linden." + +"Equal to the demand?" + +"Why do you ask me?" she said, a little troubled. + +"I believe I have a bad habit of asking questions," said Mr. +Linden--and his tone was apologetic in its very gentleness, "It is +partly my fault and partly Pet's." + +"Partly whose? Mr. Linden," said Faith. "_I_ don't think it's a bad +habit. _Whose_ fault, did you say?" + +"Pet's--my sister's--into whose company I hope to send you soon again." + +"Oh--I mustn't thank you!"--Faith said, beginning and stopping herself +somewhat comically. + +"I don't know whether you will thank me for taking you past your own +gate, which I was about to do," said Mr. Linden. "And I don't know +whether the social and astronomical days ought to agree--but Hesperus +set some time ago." + +"I don't understand, Mr. Linden--" said Faith pausing. + +"You must not expect to understand all astronomical things till you +have studied astronomy," he said with a smile. "The practical +application of my words is to sleep-- + + 'That knits up the ravelled sleeve of care; + Worn labour's bath; balm of hurt minds.'"-- + + +With which soporific potion he bade her goodnight; and Faith went to +her room marvelling _what_ could have put into Mr. Linden's head just +those particular words; and whether he had a quality of vision that +could see through flesh and blood; and a little in doubt whether or not +in the circumstances to find the words or the surmise 'balmy.' But if +she wanted rest that night, or seemed to have wanted it, she had found +it the next day, for she was all like herself. To speak with her own +scrupulosity, there was perhaps just a shade of quieter gravity on her +face and touching her smile, than there had been the day before. And +that shade she kept. + +It is a notable fact, that when Pleasure with her wand has roused into +lively motion the waters of some mortal lake, she straightway departs; +taking with her the sparkles, the dancing foam, and leaving the +disturbed waves to deposit at their leisure the sediment which she has +stirred up. Withered leaves flung upon the bank, a spot here and there +of discoloured froth,--these are what remain. Thus in the quiet nooks +and corners of Pattaquasset were trophies not too bright of the +celebration. Thus did Pattaquasset people behold some of the hidden +evil in their neighbours, and likewise in themselves. The boys indeed +maintained their serenity and kept Pleasure with them but in other +quarters there were some heartburnings--most of all at Squire Deacon's. +Relieved at first by the idea of a new rival--then by some intuitive +belief thrown off that ground of comfort; the Squire was much in the +condition of the man who wanted to commit an assault upon every small +boy he met--for boys were to him representatives. But deprived by law +of this manly way of expressing his feelings, the Squire sought some +other. For the boys, they laughed at him--and at pretty much everything +else; and having as I said managed to keep Pleasure with them, the +faces that greeted Mr. Linden on Friday morning were unusually bright. + +Yet there were one or two exceptions. Sam Stoutenburgh was a little +shamefaced in broad daylight--a little afraid of being laughed at; and +Reuben Taylor, the head of the blue ribbands, was under a very unwonted +cloud. It even seemed as if the day (no thanks to Pleasure) had done +some work for Mr. Linden: perhaps he was considering how long he should +be within reach of such ceremonies; or (perhaps) how soon he could be +willing to put himself out of reach. And when he came home in the +afternoon, it was with the slow, meditative step which reminded Faith +of his first week in Pattaquasset. + +"_You_ are tired now, Mr. Linden," she said with a smile, but the +burden of her remark in her eyes, as she met him in the porch. + +"Boys are an extraordinary commodity to deal with!" he said looking at +her, but answering the smile too. "I think you are bewitching all mine +by degrees. Why cannot you confine your conjurations to the black cats +of the neighbourhood?--like some of the real, respectable Puritan +witches?" + +Faith blushed very much at the beginning of this speech, and laughed at +the last. + +"What have I done, Mr. Linden? there are no black cats in the +neighbourhood." + +"Is that it?" said Mr. Linden--"I shall have to import a few. You give +me a great deal of trouble, Miss Faith." + +"I, Mr. Linden? I am very sorry! What have I done?" + +"I don't know!--or at least but partially. There is Sam Stoutenburgh, +making as much ado over his lessons as if his wits had forsaken +him--which perhaps they have. There is Reuben Taylor--I don't know what +is the matter with Reuben," he said, his tone changing, "but his last +words to me were a very earnest entreaty that I would persuade you to +see him for five minutes; and when I wanted to know why he did not +prefer his own request, all I could get was that he was not sure you +would let him. Which gave me very little clue to the sorrowful face he +has worn all day." + +Once more, and this time with the keen tinge of pain, the blood rushed +in a flood to Faith's cheek and brow; and for a second she put her +hands to her face as if she would hide it. But she put them down and +looked up frankly to Mr. Linden. + +"I am sure Reuben Taylor has done no wrong!" she said. "You may tell +him so, Mr. Linden." + +"Wrong!" he said--"to you?"--and the tone was one Faith did not know. +Then with a manner that was like enough to the flinging of the little +stone into Kildeer river, he added, "Yes, I will tell him. Miss Faith, +I shall be down again directly, and then will you let me see that +book?" And he passed on upstairs. + +The book was on the table in the parlour when he came down, but Faith +met him standing. With a little timid anxiousness, she said, + +"I have done wrong now. Mr. Linden, I said I was sure Reuben had _not_ +done any, and you will not speak to him as if he had? Please don't +speak to him at all--I will see him myself." + +The answering smile broke through some little cloud of feeling, in +spite of him. + +"You need not fear," he said,--"I know Reuben Taylor. But you have got +something else to think of just now." Then placing a chair for her at +the table, Mr. Linden took up the little book and began his work of +examination. And perhaps it is not too much to say that even Dr. +Harrison might have learned somewhat from the way it was carried on. A +skilful and kind way of finding out what she did not know, from what +she did; initiation and examining so carried on together that Faith +found herself knowing where she thought she was ignorant,--more still, +perhaps, a kind of separate decision what she _ought_ to learn, and +how; which saved her the trouble of acknowledging and confessing; and +all as gently done as if he had been dealing with some delicate winged +creature, whose downy plumage would come off with a touch,--such was +the threatened examination. She might flutter a little under his hand, +but the soft wings were unhurt. + +"Tell me first, Miss Faith," he said turning over the leaves, "what you +have been doing here by yourself." + +"I have been all through it," she said; 'fluttering' sure enough, yet +as much with pleasure as with timidity; not at all with fear. + +"Will you work these out for me--" and he gave her half a dozen +different tests on a bit of paper. + +She coloured, and he could see her hand tremble; but she was not long +doing them, and she did them well, and gave them back without a word +and without raising her eyes. + +"Well," said Mr. Linden, smiling a little as he looked at the paper, +"if it takes half an hour to hear Charles twelfth his lesson, and +Johnny gives you but one quarter the trouble, and Rob Waters about +twice as much as Johnny, how much time will you spend upon them all?" + +"It will be about an hour--wanting an eighth," she said without raising +her eyes, but with a bit of a smile too. + +"I hear you and Johnny have arranged preliminaries, Miss Faith." + +"Yes," said Faith looking up brightly, "he came to shew me his ribband +and to tell me last night. But I was almost sorry, Mr. Linden,--that +you should send _him_ away from you." + +"For Johnny's sake, or my own?" + +"For his sake--certainly." + +"You need not speak so assuredly--there were two parties to the +question--besides you. But I have him still, you know, in a way. What +has been in hand since this little book was finished?" + +"Nothing--except the Philosophe,--and--" + +"Well?--isn't that blank to be filled up?" + +"And Shakspeare," said Faith casting down her eyes. + +"I cannot let you confine yourself to the study of human nature," said +Mr. Linden,--"that will never do. Charles twelfth and Shakspeare want +ground to stand upon. Did you ever read anything of Physical Geography?" + +She shook her head. "I don't know what that is, Mr. Linden." + +"Then I will have the pleasure of introducing you. Ordinary geography +is but a shell without it. And if we accidentally go deeper down than +the stratum of geography, I will try and bring you back safe. But Miss +Faith, you have not done with this book yet--the subject-matter of it. +I want you to carry that further." + +"Well," she said smiling,--"I like it. I am ready. What comes next, Mr. +Linden?" + +"Did you pay any attention to the algebra part of the examination +yesterday?" + +"Yes, I believe so. I paid attention to it all--I didn't understand +what some of it was about, but I believe I know what you mean." + +"How should you like to work with letters and signs instead of figures? +By the way, Miss Faith, your sevens are too much like your nines, and +if you drew a check for $500 with that five, you might find yourself +paying out $800." + +She coloured again, but bowed her head in assent, quite ignoring in her +interest in the subject the extravagance of the supposition by which he +illustrated it. + +"You shall not say that again, Mr. Linden." + +"Don't pledge yourself for me," he said smiling,--"I am a lawless kind +of person, as perhaps you have found out. But if I were to spend one +minute well on the first day of the year, and each succeeding day add +to my well-spent minutes so many more as the year was days old--how +much of December would be well spent?" + +But Faith could not tell. + +"You see what is before you--" Mr. Linden said; "you must work that +out, Miss Faith, in more ways than one. Well tell me this--Which is +nearest to us now,--my sister Pet or the Khan of Tartary,--supposing +her in Rome and him in his own dominions?" + +Faith coloured again, a good deal, and with some sorrow. + +"I am glad you asked me," she said;--"I want you should know it,--but I +don't know anything about that, Mr. Linden. I know a _little_, of +course," she said correcting herself, "but I couldn't answer you." + +"But why can't you understand," he said looking at her, "that I am just +some old, torn, dog-eared book of questions that you are looking into +for the first time? I don't like to be made to feel like a bran new +schoolbook." + +Faith looked at him, and probably the words "old, torn, and dog-eared" +made a peculiar contrast, for her eye flashed and in spite of +everything she laughed, her musical little laugh. + +"That sounds reasonable," said Mr. Linden. "I like to be laughed at. +But Miss Faith--just suppose for a moment that there were tears in your +eyes,--what could keep them from falling?" + +Faith's eyes opened and she took a little time to consider this +proposition. + +"If I were very determined, I think I could do it," she said. + +"Suppose they got so far as the tip ends of your eye lashes?" he said, +with a little play of the lips. + +"They must come down, I am afraid," said Faith looking and wondering. + +"But why?" + +"Because my determination couldn't reach them there, I suppose," she +said in unmitigated wonder. "There would be nothing to keep them up." + +"Unphilosophic!" he said gravely,--"I shall have to teach you both why +your tears fall, and why they don't." + +She smiled, as very willing to be taught, but with a face that looked +as if it had had few to experiment upon either way. + +"I will try and not tire you out," Mr. Linden said, "but different +things go on pleasantly together. Some I should like to have you study +for me when I am away, some directly with me. And--" + +"And what, sir?" she said with the gentle intonation of one to whose +ear every word is pleasant. + +"How much time have you in the course of the day that can and ought to +be spent upon all these matters--without disturbing Shakspeare and his +companions?" + +"I will _make_ time, Mr. Linden, if I don't find it. I have a good +deal. You won't tire me." + +"You must not make time out of strength. Will you write me a French +exercise every day, among other things? Yes Cindy," he said--"I +understand,"--apparently quite aware that Faith did not. + +"I will try," said Faith, with a colour again that was not of _French_ +growth. + +"Well baint you comin'?" said Cindy, who stood still as if she liked +the prospect before her. + +"Yes, but I can find my own way," said Mr. Linden; at which gentle hint +Cindy vanished. And Faith sprang up. + +"Teaching all day," she said, "and no tea either!"--And she was about +to run off, then paused to say, + +"That is all, Mr. Linden?--do you want to say anything more?" + +"It was not tea, Miss Faith,--Reuben is at the door. Will you see him? +Shall I bring him here or will you go there?" + +"I will go there," said Faith hurriedly. But Mr. Linden followed her. + +"Reuben," he said, "Miss Faith will hear you--and I am ready to answer +for your word with my own;"--then he went back into the sitting room +and closed the door. + +But those words seemed to touch at least one sore spot in the boy's +heart--he had to struggle with himself a moment before he could speak. +Then it was low and humbly. + +"Miss Faith--I don't know just what Phil has said about me,--I can't +find out. But whatever it is there isn't one word of it true. I never +said one word about you, Miss Faith, that I wouldn't say to you, just +the same!" And Reuben looked as if he would have confronted the whole +world on that point. + +"I am quite sure of it, Reuben," Faith said very gently. "I didn't need +you to come and tell me so." + +He looked up at her with both gladness and thanks in his eyes. + +"I shouldn't have troubled you with my trouble at all, Miss Faith--only +he said you were displeased with me--and I was afraid it might be true." + +"Who said I was displeased with you?" + +An involuntary glance of Reuben's eye towards the closed door, seemed +to say he did not want his words to go far. + +"Dr. Harrison, Miss Faith. At least I thought he said so." + +"Did he speak to you?" + +"Yes ma'am--and just pushed my word out of the way when I gave +it,--said it might be well enough to tell people but he didn't think +you liked it. And so I got vexed. I'm so used to Mr. Linden," Reuben +said--as if in excuse. + +"Are you satisfied now, Reuben?" said Faith, giving him a good look of +her eyes. + +A little qualified his look was--perhaps because he had been too much +troubled to have the traces go off at once; but there was no want of +satisfaction in his, + +"O yes, Miss Faith--I can't tell you how thankful I am to you! +Goodnight, ma'am." + +Faith went back to the parlour. And then Mr. Linden, taking from his +pocket a piece of broad dark blue ribband, and laying it lightly round +Faith's shoulders, told her gravely, "that she was entitled to wear +that for the rest of the evening." + +Faith matched the blue with red, and stood eying the ribband which she +had caught as it was falling from her shoulders, seeming for a minute +as if she had as much as she could bear. Rallying, she looked up at Mr. +Linden to get a little more light as to what he expected of her, or +what he meant. But unless she could read a decided opinion that the two +'favours' looked better together than separate, his face gave her no +information. Then smiling he said, + +"I don't mean that you _must_ wear it--merely that you have the right." + +Faith gave another glance at his face, and then without more ado tied +the blue ribband round her waist, where as she still wore the white +dress of yesterday, it shewed to very good advantage. She said nothing +more; only as she was quitting the room now in earnest to get tea, gave +him an odd, pleasant, half grateful, half grave little smile. Too many +things however had been at work to admit of her coming down into +quietness immediately. The red left her no more than the blue for the +rest of that evening. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + + +Saturday was but a half holiday to Mrs. Derrick's little family--unless +indeed they called their work play, which some of them did. It was +spent thus. + +By Mrs. Derrick, in the kitchen, in the bed-rooms, all over the house +generally--with intervals at the oven door. + +By Mr. Linden in the sitting-room, where Faith came from time to time +as she got a chance, to begin some things with him and learn how to +begin others by herself. The morning glided by very fast on such smooth +wheels of action, and dinner came with the first Natural Philosophy +lesson yet unfinished. It was finished afterwards however, and then Mr. +Linden prepared himself to go forth on some expedition, of which he +only said that it was a long one. + +"I am going to petition to have tea half an hour later than usual +to-night, Miss Faith," he said. + +"_Just_ half an hour later, Mr. Linden?" she said smiling. "You shall +have it when you like." + +"I hope to be home by that time--if not don't wait for me. You will +find all the materials for your French exercise on my table." + +Which intimation quickened Faith's steps about the little she had +beforehand to do, and also quickened a trifle the beating of her heart. +It was not quiet--timidity and pleasure were throbbing together, and +throbbing fast, when she turned her back upon the rest of the house and +went to Mr. Linden's room. She would have a good uninterrupted time +this afternoon, at any rate. And the materials were there, as he had +said,--all the materials; from books, open and shut, to the delicate +white paper, and a pen which might be the very one Johnny Fax thought +could write of itself. Faith stood and looked at them, and then sat +down to work, if ever such a determination was taken by human mind. + +She had been a good while absorbed in her business when a knock came to +the front door, which Faith did not hear. Cindy however had ears to +spare, and presently informed Mrs. Derrick that a gentleman wished to +see her. And in the sitting-room Mrs. Derrick found Dr. Harrison. + +"You haven't _forgotten to remember_ me, I hope, Mrs. Derrick," he said +as he took her hand. He looked very handsome, and very pleasant, as he +stood there before her, and his winning ease of manner was enough to +propitiate people of harder temper than the one he was just now dealing +with. + +"No indeed!" said Mrs. Derrick; "I remember a great many things about +you,"--(as in truth she did.) "But I daresay you've changed a good deal +since then. You've been gone a great while, Dr. Harrison." + +"Do you _hope_ I have changed?--or are you afraid I have?" + +"Why I don't think I said I did either," said Mrs. Derrick smiling, for +she felt as if Dr. Harrison was an old acquaintance. "And I suppose it +makes more difference to you than to me, anyway." Which words were not +blunt in their intention, but according to the good lady's habit were a +somewhat unconscious rendering of her thoughts. "How's Miss Sophy, +after her holiday? I always think play's the hardest work that's done." + +"I am very sorry you found it so!" said the doctor. + +"You needn't be--" said Mrs. Derrick, rocking complacently and making +her knitting needles play in a style that certainly might be called +work,--"I've got over it now. To be sure I was tired to death, but I +like to be, once in a while." + +The doctor laughed, as if, in a way, he had found his match. + +"And how is Miss Derrick?" he asked. "If she was tired too, it was my +fault." + +"I guess that 'll never be one of your faults, Dr. Harrison," said Mrs. +Derrick,--"it would take any amount of folks to tire _her_ out. She's +just like a bird always. O she's well, of course, or I shouldn't be +sitting here." + +"And so like a bird that she lives in a region above mortal view, and +only descends now and then?" + +"Yes, she does stay upstairs a good deal," said Mrs. Derrick, knitting +away. "Whenever she's got nothing to do down here. She's been down all +the morning." + +"I can't shoot flying at this kind of game," said the doctor;--"I'll +endeavour to come when the bird is perched, next time. But in the +meanwhile, Miss Derrick seemed pleased the other night with these +Chinese illuminations--and Sophy took it into her head to make me the +bearer of one, that has never yet illuminated anything, hoping that it +will do that office for her heart with Miss Derrick. The heart will +bear inspection, I believe, with or without the help of the lantern." + +And the doctor laid a little parcel on the table. Mrs. Derrick looked +at the parcel, and at the doctor, and knit a round or two. + +"I'm sure she'll be very much obliged to Miss Harrison," she said. "But +I know I sha'n't remember all the message. I suppose _that_ won't +matter." + +"Not the least," said the doctor. "The lantern is expected to throw +light upon some things. May I venture to give Mrs. Derrick another word +to remember, which must depend upon her kindness alone for its +presentation and delivery?" + +Mrs. Derrick stopped knitting and looked all attention. + +"It isn't much to remember," said the doctor laughing gently. "Sophy +wishes very much to have Miss Derrick go with her to-morrow afternoon. +She is going to drive to Deep River, and wished me to do my best to +procure Miss Derrick's goodwill, and yours, for this pleasure of her +company. Shall I hope that her wish is granted?" + +Now Mrs. Derrick, though not quick like some other people, had yet her +own womanly instincts; and that more than one of them was at work now, +was plain enough. But either they confused or thwarted each other, for +laying down her work she said, + +"I know she won't go--but I'll let her come and give her own answer;" +and left the room. For another of her woman's wits made her never send +Cindy to call Faith from her studies. Therefore she went up, and softly +opening the door of the study room, walked in and shut it after her. + +"Pretty child," she said, stroking Faith's hair, "are you very busy?" + +"Very, mother!"--said Faith looking up with a burning cheek and happy +face, and pen pausing in her hand. "What then?"-- + +"Wasn't it the queerest thing what I said that day at Neanticut!" said +Mrs. Derrick, quite forgetting Dr. Harrison in the picture before her. + +"What, dear mother?" + +"Why when I asked why you didn't get Mr. Linden to help you. How you do +write, child!"--which remark was meant admiringly. + +"Mother!"--said Faith. "But it can be done"--she added with quiet +resolution. + +"I'm sure it never could by me, in that style," said Mrs. Derrick,--"my +fingers always think they are ironing or making piecrust. But child, +here's Dr. Harrison--come for nobody knows what, except that Sophy took +it into her head to send her heart by him--as near as I can make out. +And he wants you to go to Deep River to-morrow. I said you +wouldn't--and then I thought maybe you'd better speak yourself. But if +you don't like to, you sha'n't. I can deal with him." + +"I don't want to see Dr. Harrison, mother!--To-morrow?" said Faith. +"Yes--I will see him." + +She rose up, laid her pen delicately out of her fingers, went down +stairs and into the sitting-room, where she confronted the doctor. + +Faith was dressed as she had been at the party, with the single +exception of the blue ribband instead of the red oak leaves; and the +excitement of what she had been about was stirring both cheek and eye. +Perhaps some other stir was there too, for the flush was a little +deeper than it had been upstairs, but she met the doctor very quietly. +He thought to himself the lanterns had lent nothing with their +illumination the other night. + +"No, sir," she said as he offered her a chair,--"I have something to +do;--but mother said--" + +"Will the bird perch for no longer than this?" said the doctor, turning +with humourous appeal to Mrs. Derrick who had followed her. + +"My birds do pretty much as they like, Dr. Harrison," said Mrs. Derrick +"They always did, even when I had 'em in cages." + +"Then this bird is free now?" + +"I guess you'd better talk to her--" said Mrs. Derrick, taking her seat +and her knitting again. + +"Miss Derrick!" said the doctor obeying this direction with an +obeisance,--"you are free to command, and I can but obey. Will you go +with Sophy to-morrow to Deep River? I am not altogether uninterested, +as I hope to have the honour of driving you; but she sends her most, +earnest wish." + +"To-morrow is Sunday, Dr. Harrison." + +"Well--isn't Sunday a good day?" + +"It isn't mine," said Faith gently. + +"Not yours?" said the doctor. "You have promised it away, and we are so +unfortunate?" + +Her colour rose a little, but it was with an eye as steady as it was +soft that she answered him. + +"The day belongs to God, Dr. Harrison--and I have promised it, and +myself, away to him." + +The doctor looked astonished for a minute. And he gazed at her. + +"But, my dear Miss Derrick, do you think there is anything contrary to +the offices of religion in taking a pleasant drive, in a pleasant +country, in pleasant weather? that is all." + +Faith smiled a little, gravely; it was very sweet and very grave. + +"There are all the other days for that," she said. "God has given us +his work to be done on his day, Dr. Harrison; and there is so much of +it to do that I never find the day long enough." + +"You are right!" he said--"You are quite right. You are a great deal +better than I am. I am sorry I asked you,--and yet I am glad.--Then +Miss Derrick, will you forgive me? and will you some other day shew +that you forgive me and be so good as to go with us?" + +But Faith's interest in the subject was gone. + +"I am very busy, sir," she said. "I have work to do that I do not wish +to put off." + +"Cannot you go with us _at all?_ We will wait and make it any day?" + +"Do not wait," said Faith. "I _could_ go, but I could not go with +pleasure, Dr. Harrison. I have not the time to spare, for that, nor for +more now. Please excuse me." + +And she went. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said the doctor musingly, "this is a winged creature, I +believe--but it is not a bird!" + +At which Mrs. Derrick looked at him with a mingled satisfaction that he +had got his answer, and curiosity to know what he thought of it. For +the further she felt herself from her child's high stand, the more +presuming did she think it in any one to try to bring _her_ down from +it. + +"If I thought, as I came here, that I walked on a higher level than the +generality of mankind, as perhaps in the vanity of my heart I did,--I +feel well put down on the ground now," pursued the doctor. "But Mrs +Derrick, when may I hope to see this winged thing of yours again?" + +It must be confessed that Mrs. Derrick did not admire this speech,--'a +winged thing,' as she justly thought, was a somewhat indefinite term, +and might mean a flying grasshopper as well as a canary bird. Therefore +it was with some quickness that she replied, + +"What sort of a winged thing are you talking of, doctor?" + +"Nothing worse than a heavenly one, madam. But angel or cherub are such +worn-out terms that I avoided them." + +He was standing yet where Faith left him, looking down gravely, +speaking half lightly, to her mother. + +"I don't know who'll see her when she's an angel," said Mrs. Derrick, +with a little flush coming over her eyes. "But she wouldn't thank you +for calling her one now," she added presently, with her usual placid +manner. "Won't you sit down again, doctor?" + +"May I ask," said he eying her, somewhat intent upon the answer,--"why +she wouldn't thank me for calling her one now?--by which I understand +that it would incur her displeasure." + +"Why--why should she?" said Mrs. Derrick, who having dropped a stitch +was picking it up with intentness equal to the doctor's. + +"True!" said the doctor in his usual manner. "Angels don't thank +mortals for looking at them. But Mrs. Derrick, when may such a poor +mortal as I, stand a chance of seeing this particular one again?" + +Mrs. Derrick laid down her work. + +"Well you _have_ changed!" she said, "there's no doubt of that! I don't +recollect that you used to care so much about seeing her when you were +here before. If I don't forget, you set your dog on her cat. And as to +when you'll see her again, I'm sure I can't tell, doctor. She's a busy +child, and folks out of the house have to do without seeing her till +she finds time to see them." Whereat Mrs Derrick smiled upon Dr. +Harrison with the happy consciousness that she was one of the folks in +the house. + +The doctor stood smiling at her, with a half humourous, quite pleasant +expression of face. + +"Set my dog on her cat!" he exclaimed. "_That_ is why she would be +angry with me for calling her a cherub!-- + + 'Tantae ne animis celestibus irae!'" + + +The doctor sat down. + +"What shall I do!" he said. "Advise me, Mrs. Derrick." + +"I know what I should have done if I'd got hold of you," said Mrs. +Derrick. "I thought I never would speak to you again--but you see I've +got over it." + +"I'm not sure of it," said the doctor meditatively. "'Folks out of the +house'--well! It strikes me I've been 'in' to little purpose this +afternoon."--He rose again. "Where is Mr. Linden? is he 'out', or 'in', +this fine day?" + +"He's out this afternoon," said Mrs. Derrick. "I was thinking to ask +you if you wanted to see him, and then I knew it was no use." + +"Yes, I should like to see him," said the doctor; "but as he is a +mortal like myself, I suppose I can find him another time by the use of +proper precautions." + +And Dr. Harrison took his departure. + +Mrs. Derrick on her part went upstairs again, and opening the door +merely peeped in this time. + +"What is it, mother?" + +"Are you busy yet, child?" + +"Not quite through." + +"I thought," said Mrs. Derrick stepping softly into the room, "that +we'd go down to the shore this afternoon, and maybe dig some clams. I +don't know but it's too late for that--we might ride down and see. +You're tired, pretty child--and other people won't like that a bit more +than I do." + +"I'd like to go, mother--I'm almost done, and I'm not tired," Faith +said with happy eyes. "There is time, I guess, for Mr. Linden don't +want tea as early as usual. I'll come soon." + +Mrs. Derrick withdrew softly, and again Faith was entirely lost in her +business. But she had nearly done now; the work was presently finished, +the books put up in order, and the papers, with the exercise on top; +and Faith stood a moment looking down at it. Not satisfied, but too +humble to have any false shame, too resolute to doubt of being +satisfied and of satisfying somebody else, by and by. And the +intellectual part of her exercise she thought, and with modest reason, +would satisfy him now. Then she went down to her mother, quite ready +for the beach or for anything else. + +It was one of those very warm October days which unlearned people call +Indian summer,--the foreground landscape yellow with stubble fields and +sered forest, the distance blue with haze. So soft and still, that the +faint murmur of the wheels as they rolled along the sandy road sounded +as if at a distance, and the twittering birds alone set off the +silence. Now and then came a farm wagon loaded with glowing corn, then +the field where the bereaved pumpkins lay among the bundles of +cornstalks. Sportsmen passed with their guns, schoolboys with their +nut-bags, and many were the greetings Faith received; for since the day +at Neanticut every boy thought he had a right to take off his hat to +her. From the midst of his cornfield, Mr. Simlins gave them a wave of +his hand,--from the midst of its blue waters the Sound sent a fresh +welcome. + +"I declare, child," said Mrs. Derrick, as they neared the shore, "it's +real pleasant!" + +"The tide's out, mother," said Faith, who had the spirit of action upon +her to-day--"we can get some clams now, if we're quick." + +"I don't know but you're learning to be spry, among other things," said +her mother looking at her. "I thought you were as spry as you could be, +before. What haven't you done to-day, child!" + +Faith laughed a little, and then jumping out of the wagon and helping +her mother down, was certainly 'spry' in getting ready for the +clam-digging. Her white dress had been changed for a common one and +that was carefully pinned up, and a great kitchen apron was put on to +cover all but the edges of skirts as white as the white dress, and with +shoes and stockings off, basket and hoe in hand, she stood ready almost +before her mother had accomplished fastening up old Crab to her +satisfaction. Mrs. Derrick on her part prepared herself as carefully +for work (though not quite so evidently for play) and the two went down +to the flats. The tide was far out,--even the usual strips of water +were narrow and far apart. Wherever they could, the little shell-fish +scrambled about and fought their miniature battles in one-inch water; +but at the edge of the tall shore-grass there was no water at all, +unless in the mud, and the shell-fish waited, by hundreds, for the +tide. Here was the scene of action for the two ladies. Walking daintily +over the warm mud with their bare feet, which however white and +twinkling at first were soon obliged to yield to circumstances; +disturbing the little shell-fish--who in turn disturbed them, by very +titillating little attacks upon the aforesaid feet,--Mrs. Derrick and +Faith marched up to the edge of the grass and there sought for clam +holes. The war went on after this fashion. A clam hole being found, the +hoe was struck far down into the mud to _unearth_ the inhabitant; which +the clam resenting, spit up into the intruder's face. But the +intruder--proof against such small fire--repeated the strokes, and the +clam was soon brought to light and tumbled ignominiously into the +basket,--to be followed every second or two by another of his +companions; for the clam holes were many. The basket was soon full, but +not before the cool ripple of the tide had passed the muscle rocks and +was fast coming in-shore. + +"Well I do think play's hard work!" said Mrs. Derrick, bringing herself +once more to an erect position--"I told Dr. Harrison so this morning. +How you and Mr. Linden stand it, Faith, I don't know." + +"What, mother?" said Faith, making a descent upon another promising +clam shell. But Mrs. Derrick always preferred to go on with her remarks. + +"It's good he's doing it, for his own sake, I guess," she said,--"he's +done nothing but work ever since he came to Pattaquasset." + +"Doing what, mother?" said Faith. "What _are_ you talking of?" + +"Why I'm talking of you, child!" said her mother,--"you and Mr. Linden. +One of you played all the morning and the other's going to play all the +afternoon. But I think you've done enough, Faith--it won't do to get +sick so long as we've nobody but Dr. Harrison to depend on. I don't +believe _he_'s much of a doctor." + +"Played all the morning?" said Faith taking up her basket,--"it was +better than play to me. I wish I could do something for _him_, mother!" + +Very gravely, and even a little sorrowfully, the last words were said. + +"Why yes," said Mrs. Derrick stoutly. "Never tell me it's anything but +play to teach you, child--he didn't look as if it was, neither. I +thought he got his pay as he went along." + +Faith knew he had looked so; but that was not Faith--it was Mr. Linden, +in her account. + +"Dr. Harrison ought to be a good doctor, mother," she remarked, leaving +the subject. "He has had chance enough." + +"La, child," said Mrs. Derrick, untying her apron, "chance don't prove +anything. A man may have just as good a chance to kill as he has to +cure. By which I don't mean that _he_ has, for I don't know." + +"The tide is coming in, mother. We came just in the very point of the +time. How pretty it is!--" said Faith; standing in the blue mud, with +her bare feet, and with the basket of clams in her hand, but standing +still to look off at the flats and the dark water and the hazy opposite +shore, all with the sunny stillness and the soft enveloping haze of +October lying lovingly upon them. Faith thought of the 'glory' again, +and watched to see how water and shore and flats and sky were all +touched with it. One or two sails on the Sound could not get on; they +lay still in the haze like everything else; and the 'glory' was on them +too. She thought so. It seemed to touch everything. And another glory +touched everything,--the glory of truth Faith had only for a little +while come to know. She recognized it; there was 'light from heaven' in +more senses than one; the glow of joy and hope unknown a while before; +the softening veil of mind-peace over whatever might be harsh or sharp +in actual reality. She did not run out all the parallel, but she felt +it, and stood looking with full eyes. Not full of tears, but of +everything pleasant beside. + +Then came the drive home, with the air darkening every minute, but +notwithstanding this, Mrs. Derrick stopped by the way. + +"Faith," she said, "hold the reins, child--I won't be a second, but +I've got something to see to in here;" and Faith was once more left to +her meditations. + +Not for long; for as she sat gazing out over old Crab's ears, she was +'ware' of some one standing by the wagon: it was Squire Deacon. + +"I shall commence to think I'm a lucky man, after all!" said the +Squire. "I was coming down to see you, Miss Faith,--and couldn't just +resolve my mind to it, neither. I wanted to pay a parting visit." + +"Were you?--are you going away, Squire Deacon?" + +"Why yes," said the Squire, looking down at his gun--for he had been +shooting,--"I've had considerable thoughts of taking a turn down to +York. Cilly says she don't think it's worth my while--but I guess she +don't know much more 'n her own concerns. Pattaquasset's a good deal +come round this season," he added, without specifying which way. + +"Do you mean that you intend to forsake Pattaquasset entirely?" said +Faith, noticing the comfortable supply of ducks in the Squire's bag. + +"Well I can't just say--I'm not free to certify," said the Squire. "I +said I thought it was worth my while to go, and so I do. I should like +to know from your lips, Miss Faith, whether you'll make it worth my +while to come back." + +Faith was very glad it was so dark. + +"I don't see how I can touch the question either way, sir," she said +gently and with not a little difficulty.--"Wherever you are, I hope +you'll be very happy, and very good, Squire Deacon." + +"I should like something a little better grown than that, ma'am," said +the Squire, striking his gun on the ground. "I can't just tell whether +_that_'s wheat or oats. It's likely _my_ meaning's plain enough." + +Faith was dumb for a minute. + +"I believe I understood you, sir," she said in a low voice. "I meant to +answer you." + +"Well what's to hinder your doing it, then?" said Squire Deacon. + +"I thought I had done it," said Faith. "I have nothing to do with the +question of your coming or going anywhere, sir,--and can't +have,--except to wish you well, which I do heartily." + +"That's your ultimate, is it, Miss Faith?" + +"No, sir," said Faith, conquering the beating of her heart. "Squire +Deacon, I want to see you _in heaven_." + +And she stretched out to him her little hand frankly over the side of +the wagon. + +Squire Deacon took it for a moment--then dropped it as if it had burnt +his fingers. And then with a voice in which whether sorrow or anger +prevailed Faith could not tell, he said-- + +"Well--I don't blame _you_,--never did and never shall. Cunning's been +too much for me this time." And he took up his gun and strode off, just +as Mrs. Derrick opened the house door and came out to take her place in +the wagon again. + +"Dear mother!" said Faith,--"why didn't you come sooner!" + +"Why I couldn't, child!" said Mrs. Derrick. "That woman always will +tell one every pain and ache she's had since the year one. What's the +matter?--why didn't you tie Crab and come in, if you were lonesome." + +Faith was silent. + +"What's the matter?" repeated her mother,--"have you been getting sick +after all I said to you?" + +"Squire Deacon has been here talking to me," said Faith in a low tone. + +"Well then you had company, I'm sure. What did he talk about? Come, +Crab!--get on, sir!" + +"He says he is going away from Pattaquasset, and he lays it to me, +mother," she said after some hesitancy again. + +"What does he lay it to you, for?" said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't believe +he's going away, to begin with." + +"He wanted me to say something to bring him back again," said Faith +lower yet. + +"O is that all!" said Mrs. Derrick composedly. "I knew that gun was +loaded, long ago. Well what's the harm if he did?--it's not dangerous." + +"I'm sorry," said Faith. "But mother, do make Crab get on!--it's time." + +"It's not late," said Mrs. Derrick. "And don't you fret about Sam +Deacon, child,--he always was a little goose--till he got to be a big +one; but you needn't think he'll ever shoot himself for love of +you,--he loves himself better than that." + +And at this point, Crab--roused by the thought of his own supper--set +off at a good round trot which soon brought them home. There was nobody +there, however, not even Cindy; so the need of haste did not seem to +have been urgent. Faith soon had the kitchen fire in order, and her +clams in the pot, and was for the next half hour thoroughly busy with +them. Then she made herself ready for tea, and the mother and daughter +sat together by the lamp, the one with her knitting the other with her +book. But the extra half hour was already past. + +"Faith," said Mrs. Derrick at last, "why wouldn't Mr. Linden do the +other thing you asked him to?" + +Faith looked up suddenly from her book, as if not understanding the +question; then her head and her voice drooped together. + +"I haven't asked him yet, mother." + +"I didn't know but he'd some objection," said Mrs. Derrick. "Well I +wish he'd come--I want my supper. I'm as tired as tired can be, +paddling round there in the mud. How did you like your lantern, child?" +she said as the clock struck half past seven. + +Faith raised her head and listened first to the clock and for any sound +that might be stirring near the house; then answered, + +"I haven't looked at it, mother." + +"What do you think of having supper?" + +"Before Mr. Linden comes, mother?--well, if you like it, I'll get you +yours--the clams are ready." + +"I don't care," said her mother,--"I'm more sleepy than hungry. I'll +just lie down here on the sofa, Faith, and you can wake me up when you +hear him." And disregarding the cooked clams in the kitchen, Mrs. +Derrick went to sleep and dug them all over again. + +The clock ticked on,--softly, steadily, from the half hour to the hour, +and from the hour to the half. Out of doors there was nothing stirring, +unless the owl stirred between his unmusical notes, or Mr. Skip's dog +did something but howl. Hardly a wagon passed, hardly a breath moved +the leaves. Cindy, on her part, was lost in the fascination of some +neighbouring kitchen. + +And Faith at first had been lost in her study. But the sounding of +eight o'clock struck on more than the air, and she found, though she +tried, she could not shut herself up in her book any more. Mrs. Derrick +slept profoundly; her breathing only made the house seem more still. +Faith went to the window to look, and then for freer breath and vision +went to the door. It was not moonlight; only the light of the stars was +abroad, and that still further softened by the haze or a mistiness of +the air which made it thicker still. Faith could see little, and could +hear nothing, though eyes and ears tried well to penetrate the still +darkness of the road, up and down. It was too chill to stay at the +porch, now with this mist in the air; and reluctantly she came back to +the sitting-room, her mother sleeping on the sofa, her open study book +under the lamp, the Chinese lantern in its packing paper. Faith had no +wish to open it now. There was no reason to fear anything, that she +knew; neither was she afraid; but neither could she rest. Half past +eight struck. She went to the window again, and very gravely sat down +by it. + +She had sat there but few minutes when there came a rush of steps into +the porch, and Cindy burst into the little sitting-room, almost too out +of breath to speak. + +"Here's a proclamation!" she said--"Mr. Linden's been shot at dreadful, +and Jem Waters is down to fetch Dr. Harrison. I'm free to confess they +say he aint dead yet." + +With which pleasing announcement, Cindy rushed off again, out of the +room and out of the house, being seized with a sudden fear that Jem +Waters would forestall her in spreading the news. The noise had awaked +Mrs. Derrick, and she sat looking at Faith as if she was first in her +thoughts. Faith stood before her with a colourless face, but perfectly +quiet, though at first she looked at her mother without speaking. + +"Come here, pretty child," said her mother, "and sit down by me." + +"Mother," said Faith,--but she would not have known her own +voice,--"something has happened." + +But the way Mrs. Derrick's arms came round her, said that she too had +heard. + +"Where can he be, mother?" said Faith gently disengaging herself. + +"I don't know, child." + +Faith was already at the door. + +"Faith!" her mother said, following her with a quick step,--"stop, +child!" + +Faith put back a hand as if to stop _her_--she was listening. + +There was not a sound. Faith went down the steps and stood at the gate. +Not a sound still; and her mother said softly, "Faith, you must not go +out." + +She put one hand on her mother's arm, and clasping it stood without +stirring; her other hand on the gate. In mingled sorrow and fear her +mother stood, not knowing well what to do or what to say,--in that +emergency where woman can only endure--where she is powerless but to +suffer. Faith stood without moving head or hand. + +And so they remained, they knew not how long, until Cindy once more +presented herself and told her story more at length. + +"You see I was down to Mis' Somerses, and so was Dr. Harrison; and Jem +Waters come there for him. And Jem he makes, up to Mis' Somerses Jenny, +and to-night he wouldn't hardly speak to her--wouldn't no how tell what +he come for. So then Jenny got mad and she went and listened; and she +said Jem wanted to catch up Dr. Harrison and run off with him--and the +doctor he wanted his horse. I don' know how they settled it but I'm +free to confess I'm sleepy "--and Cindy once more disappeared, and the +stillness settled down over all. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + + +On that eventful evening, Mr. Simlins had a husking bee; and in his +barn were met a fair representation of the Pattaquasset men and +boys--especially boys. And with busy hands and tongues the work went +on, Mr. Simlins himself among the busiest. But in the midst of work and +merriment though the fair stillness of the night was unheeded, the +sudden interruption which came brought everyone to his feet; it was a +loud shriek from the house, a woman's shriek. + +"Hold on!" said Mr. Simlins--"you all go ahead and I'll go quiet the +distractions. I suppose Mrs. Hummins has seen another rat in the dairy. +No--thank'ee--I like to kill my own rats myself and then I know they +_air_ killed." + +So letting nobody follow him, Mr. Simlins left the barn and went over +to the house. In the kitchen he found the full array of female +servants, of his own house and the neighbours', one of whom hiding her +face was rocking back and forth with the most incoherent exclamations; +while all the rest, standing by in various attitudes, seemed to have +got an extra pair of eyes apiece for the express purpose of looking on. + +"Well!"--said Mr. Simlins--"where is it? I've got my stick ready. +Hain't bit anybody, has he?--Or has somebody got my silver spoons? +What's to pay?" + +Now silver spoons there were none in Mr. Simlins' economy, and this was +a proverbial expression well known in the household. + +"O Mr. Simlins! Mr. Simlins!" cried the hysterical one, with a shudder, +"there's a murdered man at the front door!--and I did shut it, but he +might come round this way!" + +"You be hanged! and shut up!"--was Mr. Simlins' remark in answer to +this statement; and flinging down his stick on the kitchen floor with a +rattle, he strode to the front door and opened it, having had the +precaution to take a candle with him. + +There was certainly a figure there, not standing, but sitting on the +bench in an attitude that spoke of faintness; and of all the men in +Pattaquasset, Mr. Simlins was perhaps most surprised to see that it was +Mr. Linden. A white handkerchief ineffectually bound round his arm, but +served to shew why he had tried to secure it there. + +Mr. Simlins surveyed it all with his candle in about three seconds, and +then said hoarsely, "What's this? Can you speak to me?" + +But the power for that was gone, though a little parting of the lips +spoke the intent. Mr. Simlins set down his candle and went back to the +kitchen. + +"Get some brandy, you fools!" said he. "Here's a friend o' mine got +faint for want of his supper--been too long out shootin'. Fetch a glass +of water here too! Jenny Lowndes, you go tell Jem Waters that 'ere +plaguey black heifer has got out of the yard. You send him to me, and +if you spile the frolic with your story I'll have nothing more to do +with you, I give you my word!" + +Mr. Simlins was obeyed. He himself went back with the water and the +brandy, which he tenderly applied to Mr. Linden's forehead and lips, +and seeing the handkerchief's ineffectual disposition had taken it off +and bound it on tight by the time Jem Waters, one of his farm hands, +had reached the porch. The two then taking the sufferer in their arms +carried him into the house and into Mr. Simlins' room, which was on the +first floor, where they laid him on the bed. Jem Waters was then +despatched for Dr. Harrison, with orders to hold his tongue and not say +what he was sent for. And Jem Waters, the swiftest runner in +Pattaquasset, set off and ran every step of the way, till the doctor +was found. + +The cold applications, the resting posture, seemed to do their work, +and Mr. Simlins was rewarded with a smile from both eyes and lips. He +did not speak again however till he had seen a spoonful of brandy enter +the lips; then with a grave concern that did not seem like Mr. Simlins, +he said, in a subdued tone, + +"How do you find yourself? Can you speak now?" + +"Not much--" Mr. Linden answered with some effort. "I find myself in +very kind hands." + +"Are you hurt anywhere else?" + +"Somewhat--the shot scattered, I think." + +There was a smothered execration, and then it was a very kind hand that +renewed the touch of cold water to his forehead, though a big, brown +and rough one. + +"I've sent for the doctor--and now I'll get you a nurse. You keep +quiet, till you can do something else." + +Mr. Simlins gently went forth; and in a minute after was in the midst +of his husking party in the barn. + +"Reuben Taylor!" said the farmer--"You don't mind takin' a run, do you? +Wouldn't you just as lieves help me catch that black heifer--afore she +gets to Pequot?" + +Reuben started up, and signified his ability to catch anything +whatever. He was not alone; for half a dozen others volunteered to be +equally ready. + +"You keep where you be!" said the farmer with a wave of his hand to the +half dozen. "I don't let everybody chase that 'ere heifer--you've got +to catch her by the head and not by the foot, I tell _you!_ Reuben, you +come along." + +And getting him well outside of the barn and half way towards the +house, Mr. Simlins said in a very low growl indeed, + +"Mr. Linden's here--he's been hurt, somehow, in his arm--and he's kind +'o faint; I want you to stay by him till the doctor comes, and then let +me know. If I don't keep in the barn they'll raise Plute--or they'll +come in--and I'd as lieves they'd do one as 'tother." + +By this time Mr. Simlins had reached the door of his room, and ushered +Reuben in. He heard--and long remembered--the smothered cry which +seemed to come no further than Reuben's lips as he stepped within the +door; but after that the boy might have been made of iron, for his +strength and steadiness. He walked up to the bedside and knelt down by +it, with a look which again Mr. Simlins could not soon forget; but his +face was quite calm, except in the first moment when Mr. Linden looked +at him. The farmer was a man of iron too, yet his voice was low and +changed from its usual wont when he spoke. + +"It's only loss of blood, I guess," he said. "He'll get along. You give +him brandy, and water, Reuben, if he wants it; and call me when Dr. +Harrison comes. Can I do anything else?" The last words were gently, +even tenderly, addressed to the sufferer. + +"No--" Mr. Linden said, with that same pleasant look of the eyes. "I +think there is not much the matter--except what you said." + +Mr. Simlins stalked off and was rather more grim than usual in the +barn. The huskers had returned to their merriment, and the slight sound +of wheels in the road from time to time of course attracted no +attention. After one of these signals, however, Jem Waters appeared at +the front door. + +"Mr. Simlins there's a gentleman wants to see yer. I'll take yer place." + +"Very few strides did Mr. Simlins make between the barn and the house, +and slight was his stay of greeting to Dr. Harrison. + +"He's in here--" said he leading the way. + +Reuben was just as Mr. Simlins had left him,--it seemed as if he had +not once taken his eyes from the calm face before him. For very calm it +was--reposeful; with not a line disturbed except where a slight +contraction of the brow told of some physical discomfort. But he was +not asleep, for he looked at them the moment they entered; and Reuben +rose then, and stood leaning against the bedpost. + +"I'm sorry to see you so," said the doctor. "What's the matter? and +where?" + +A little smile, a glance towards the bandaged arm, seemed to say there +was nothing very bad, but that what there was it would be easier for +him to have the doctor find out for himself. + +Nor further did the doctor ask, but proceeded to work. And it appeared +soon that Dr. Harrison at play, and Dr. Harrison at work, were two +people--yet the same! The doctor did not indeed play at his work; yet +the work was done with the same skilful ease that he brought to his +play; an ignorant eye could see as much; and Mr. Simlins jealously +looking on, felt very soon at ease as to the doctor's part in the scene +before him. Dr. Harrison knew his business, and knew it well. + +Mr. Linden's coat was removed, in the course of which operation a keen +glance of the doctor's eye over at Reuben shewed that he recognized +him; but then he attended to nothing but his patient. He found that a +number of duck shot had been lodged in Mr. Linden's side and arm, the +latter of which was somewhat lacerated, and this was the principal +wound. The others were slight, the shot having taken a slanting +direction and so rather grazed than penetrated. Dr. Harrison with care +and skill went on to extract the shot and dress the wounds, which he +did after the happy and simple regimen of modern discoveries; and +ordered certain restoratives which he judged his patient needed. He did +not speak except on business till he had seen these doing their work +and Mr. Linden able to reply to him. And then his first words were to +the farmer; who, not asking a question, had stood by as silent and +watchful as Reuben himself; nearly as grave. + +"There's nothing the matter with him, Mr. Simlins," he said. "He'll be +able to shoot you in a day or two--if he has a mind. What have you been +doing to him?" + +"_Me!_ I've been actin' the part of the good Syrian to him," growled +Mr. Simlins;--"only I always thought before, the oil and wine went on +the outside instead of the inside." + +"I dare say," said the doctor lightly, probably not understanding the +allusion. And then he seated himself on the side of the bed, looking +down at his patient very much in his usual manner. + +"You'll have made yourself the hero of Pattaquasset, Linden," he said. +"There won't another fellow stand a chance to be looked at for a month +to come--from here to Quilipeak. You ought to be indicted for breach of +the public peace." + +"Don't try it--" said Mr. Linden. "I should doubtless prevail with the +jury too." + +"Ha?--" said the doctor with another glance over at Reuben. "Now how +did this come about?" + +"Quite suddenly--as I was walking home." + +"Where were you?" + +"About a mile from here, in the open road." + +"Who was fool enough to be shooting ducks in the open road and mistake +you for a specimen?--You are not at all the sort of man I should ever +think of making game of." + +"I tried hard to find out who it was," said Mr. Linden,--"but he was a +better runner than I, or else my strength gave out." + +"Why how did the thing happen?" said the doctor. "Run!--you don't +suppose the fellow meant to hit you?" + +"He meant to run--" said Mr. Linden. + +The doctor looked at Mr. Simlins, with a serio-comical expression. + +"Worse and worse!" said he. "It is a full-grown, regular built +adventure; and this is a hero from head to foot." + +"Which way did the fellow run?" said Mr. Simlins, with a growl that was +ominous. + +"Straight ahead--till he got into the woods," said Mr. Linden, smiling +at his host. "But he probably turned there, Mr. Simlins." + +"I'll have him!" said Mr. Simlins--"I'll foller his tracks, if they +lead me to the two poles of the axletree! You tell me where you see +him, and I'll set runners on, that won't give out neither." + +"They'd be as likely to run against each other as any way, in this mist +to-night," said the doctor. "You'd better leave all that till the +morning. I'll see you again to-morrow," said he holding out his hand to +Mr. Linden. "I suppose they don't know what is become of you at Mrs. +Derrick's--I will stop there as I go home and make myself as famous as +I can. Though 'the first bearer of unwelcome news' does not recommend +himself to favour, yet if they have heard anything, on the whole they +will thank me. I'll take my risk." + +"I am a little inclined to ride down with you," said Mr. Linden. + +"Folly!" said the doctor. "Mr. Simlins is acting a good part by you, he +says,--which I presume is true, though I did not understand his terms; +but I have no doubt he'll prove himself good for a day or two's board +and lodging. I wish I had had the pleasure of finding you at my own +door, instead of his having it!" + +"The question is whether I shall be good for a day or two--I have no +doubt of Mr. Simlins." + +"Does that mean you are going to disobey me? You grudge me that little +bit of famousness?" + +"I shall hear the orders _before_ I disobey--" + +The doctor looked at him a minute. "Linden,"--said he,--"you're +alarmingly well! but you must remain in quarters for another night or +two. It would be dangerous to let you go. I can't allow it. Good +night!--" + +Either the stimulus of the doctor's presence had been strong, or the +effort to appear well had been fatiguing; and Dr. Harrison would have +pronounced another verdict had he seen his patient ten minutes later. +When Mr. Simlins came back into the room, Mr. Linden looked pale and +exhausted. He roused himself however, at once. + +"Mr. Simlins," he said, "will you drive me into Pattaquasset to-night." + +"You aint a goin' to do that?" said the farmer. + +"That was my intention. Why not?" + +"You aint fit for it, no ways! Can't you stop here one night and be +peaceable?" + +"Yes, both," said his guest smiling. "But if I do not go, I must send," +he added after a minute's silence, during which perhaps some feeling of +weakness came in aid of the doctor's orders.--"And I do not think it +would hurt me to go." + +"Send!" said Mr. Simlins--"there's lots to send. Here's Reuben, and Sam +Stoutenburgh--the boys aint gone yet--and here's me. Who do you want to +send to?" + +"I want to send _for_ two or three things out of my room. Reuben can +go--and Sam may sit here with me, if you will sleep any better for it, +Mr. Simlins. That is what _you_ must do," he said with a look of warm +interest and kindness. + +"Sleep!" growled Mr. Simlins. "It's about all I'm good for!" (Which was +not at all Mr. Simlins' abstract judgment concerning himself--purely +comparative, on the present occasion.) "Well--you tell Reuben what you +want him to do, and he can take the brown mare--Jem'll have her +ready--and I'll send Sam to you; and after I get rid of all creation, +I'll come myself. You'd think all creation was just made, and the chips +about!" + +After which setting forth of the state of his affairs Mr Simlins went +forth. + +"I guess, sir," said Jem Waters when he had done his task with the +mare, "I guess I'd as good sleep in the front porch to-night. 'Cause if +there'll be one here, there'll be forty." + +"What'll the forty do?" + +"Knock the house down, sir, if there's nobody there to stop 'em. Bless +you, sir, all Pattaquasset 'll come to hear how Mr. Linden is, afore +day. There won't one on 'em wait two minutes after he hears the tale. +It's all about by this time--I made one gal mad by not tellin' her, and +I guess likely she's made it up for herself and other folks by now." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + + +Dr. Harrison did not find anybody at Mrs. Derrick's gate. The two, +mother and daughter, had stood there, even after Cindy had come in with +her report; unconscious, or unregardful, of the chill thick mist which +enveloped everything and fell with steady heavy fall upon the bright +hair of one and the smooth cap of the other. They had not spoken to +each other all that while, unless an unfinished word or two of Mrs. +Derrick's reached ears that did not heed them. It was Faith herself who +first moved, perhaps reminded by the increasing dullness that her +mother was feeling it too. She took her hand from the gate, and passing +the other round Mrs. Derrick, led her into the house, and into the +sitting-room and to a chair; and then went for wood and kindling and +built up a fire. She went to the kitchen next. That fire was out too, +and that fire also Faith rebuilt, and coaxed till a blaze was going up +round the cold tea kettle. Cindy sat with her head on her arms on the +kitchen table, fast asleep. Faith did not wake her. In half an hour she +brought into the sitting-room a tray with tea made, and clams warmed, +and all things that should accompany the one teacup and saucer, and +mutely set it before her mother. She did not then ask her to eat, +except by this pantomime; and she herself immediately went again to +stand in the porch. But again her mother followed. + +"Child," she said, "you mustn't stand here. You'll be sick next. You +must come right in and drink some hot tea." + +Faith's quick answer was to put her hand upon her mother's lips. Her +mother went on, softly and steadily, in spite of that slight +obstruction. Yet not in spite of it, for her voice was very low. + +"I know who'd say you ought to--" and she paused a little, as if to let +her words have their full effect. Then with a carious sort of instinct +she herself hardly perceived, Mrs. Derrick added, + +"Dr. Harrison'll be sure to come--and you mustn't be standing here +then." + +For the first time Faith's head drooped, and she turned, but it was to +pass her mother and go upstairs; laying her hand for an instant as she +went, with a kind of caressing touch, on her mother's arm; then she was +gone. + +Mrs. Derrick stood where Faith left her, the still mist before her out +of doors, the still house behind her. And there she stood until her ear +caught the distant smooth roll of wheels. Softly it came, nearing her +every minute, till Mrs. Somers' little wagon stopped at the gate, and +Dr. Harrison jumped down and came towards her. Another had seen him, +for Mrs. Derrick knew that a light step had come swiftly down stairs, +but whither it went she knew not. The doctor spoke cheerily. + +"Nasty thick evening! My dear Mrs. Derrick, do you stand at the door to +shew your hospitality in welcoming your friends, all night?" + +"It _is_ late," said Mrs. Derrick. The doctor's words were too slippery +for her to get hold of; she waited for him to speak again. + +"If it is late, my dear madam, why are you here? I don't want you to +see me ever for anything but pleasure. Is it so late I mustn't come in?" + +Mrs. Derrick stepped back into the hall--then stopped and turned. + +"I was there to watch, Dr. Harrison. What have you got to tell me? One +story has come already." + +"Has it! Then I can tell you but half a one. I was thinking to make my +fortune. Mr. Linden is spending the night at a friend's house, my dear +Mrs. Derrick--that is all. He is as well as you are--though perhaps +just at this minute not quite so strong as I am. But I am afraid he can +boast more than that in another few days." + +That Mrs. Derrick felt at once relieved, doubtful, unsatisfied, was +clear. But the relief--slight as it was--brought back her hospitality; +she led the way into the parlour. + +"What has been the matter?" she said. "What _is_ the matter?" + +"_I_ don't know," said the doctor. "He fell in with somebody carrying a +gun--which was very likely to happen, seeing I have met a great many +myself; but I never fell _out_ with any of them yet--perhaps my time +will come.--This fellow however, let off his gun in the wrong place and +some of the shot hit Mr. Linden in the arm, and before he could get to +Mr. Simlins, where I found him, he was a little faint. So I commanded +him to stay where he was till morning. That's all. He's perfectly well, +I give you my word. I came now on purpose to relieve you from anxiety. +He wanted to come down with me, but I wouldn't let him." + +"Why didn't you let him?" said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Well, I came near letting him," said the doctor,--"for I didn't know +at one time that I could help it. It wouldn't have hurt him seriously. +But he'll see you with more pleasure to-morrow." + +"I can't think how you made out to hinder him at all!" said Mrs. +Derrick, looking a little puzzled. "But I'm much obliged to you, +doctor, for coming." + +"Is he such a difficult person to deal with?" said the doctor, glancing +at the different doors of the room. + +"I never tried," said Mrs. Derrick with very simple truth. + +"I must try, some time," said the doctor abstractedly:--"I like to deal +with difficult people.--But I remember you remarked it was late!--" And +he started up and was about to take his leave; when his purpose met +with an interruption. For the swift trot of a horse upon the road came +to as quick a pause at Mrs. Derrick's gate, and Reuben Taylor came up +the steps and in at the open front door before Dr. Harrison had +finished his compliments. + +"I see!" said the doctor,--"you don't keep open doors for nothing, Mrs. +Derrick. Here's another. You're not riding after me, my friend, are +you? You don't let the grass grow!" + +"No sir," said Reuben. "Good evening, Mrs. Derrick--may I go up to Mr. +Linden's room?" + +"How is he now, Reuben?" said Mrs. Derrick. "O yes, you can go up, of +course." + +"Thank you, ma'am--he said he was more comfortable when I came away." +And with an almost imperceptible glance round the room he was in, +Reuben turned and bounded lightly up the staircase. But all was dark +there and in Mr. Linden's room. Reuben could not execute his commission +so; and was turning to come down stairs again, when he encountered in +the dim entry-way a white figure. + +"How _is_ Mr. Linden, Reuben?" said a voice which he knew, though it +was in a very low key. + +"Miss Faith!" Reuben said with a little start--"O I am so glad to find +you!"--Then repeated gravely his former answer--"He said he was more +comfortable when I came away, ma'am." + +"Is he much hurt?" + +Reuben hesitated. + +"I don't rightly know, Miss Faith," he said, so low that she could +scarce catch the words. "He says he's not--and Dr. Harrison says +not,--I suppose I'm easy frightened." + +"What makes you frightened, then?" she said quickly. + +"I was frightened--" Reuben said, drawing a long breath, and with a +sort of awe-stricken voice, as if the fright was upon him yet;--"and it +takes a while to get over it. Maybe that's all. He wrote that, Miss +Faith--" and Reuben laid a tiny folded paper in her hand. "And may I +have a light, ma'am, to get some things from his room?" He spoke +eagerly now, as if he grudged the moments. + +Faith directed him to the kitchen, and when Reuben came up, followed +him into the room and stood waiting while he sought what he wanted. +Then suddenly remembered that her paper might contain a request for +something else, and bent over the candle to read it. It contained more +than one. + +"Miss Faith," it said, "if any of my scholars are anxious about me, +tell them, _from_ me, that there is no cause. Bid them take +rest--without 'waiting for it.'--I am sorry that exercise must +wait!--but I shall hope to see _two_ on Monday. J. E. L." + +Faith's head was bent a long while over the candle. + +"Have you got what you wanted, Reuben?" she asked at last. + +Reuben had heard her voice often, but he had never heard it like +that--nor any one else. What had passed through it, clearing it so? it +was like the chiming of silver bells. He came at her word, bag in hand; +and--with the freedom a mutual sorrow gives,--held out his other hand +to her. Then ran quick and softly down the stairs. + +"Hollo, sir!" said the doctor, as Reuben passed the open doorway. "A +word with you." Reuben paused, then came back a step. + +"So you are Mr. Linden's friend, are you?" said the doctor in a +careless manner. + +"Did you want anything of me, sir?" Reuben said. + +"Why yes--I commonly want an answer to a question." + +"I don't just know what you mean by a friend, Dr. Harrison," said +Reuben respectfully. "I might answer wrong." + +"So rather than do that--You like to be on the safe side. Suppose you +ask Mr. Linden to teach you definitions, among other things? And look +here--keep him quiet and don't let anybody talk him out of his sleep to +night. That's all." And the doctor followed Reuben immediately. + +With a feeling of satisfaction certainly, Mrs. Derrick at last locked +and bolted the front door, shutting out the driving mist and all that +might hide within it; and then went to look after the only treasure the +house contained. She wasn't far to seek, for as the locking and bolting +sounded through the house, Faith came down and went with her mother +into the sitting-room. + +"Have you had nothing to eat yet, mother!" she exclaimed as her eye +fell on the orderly tea-tray. + +"No child--nor sha'n't want it, till I see you have something." + +Faith smiled a little, came and put her arms round her and kissed her; +and then set about the whole work of getting tea over again. It was +with a very pale face yet; only the silver ring of her voice told the +change of the mental atmosphere. Her mother looked at her--but was +perhaps afraid to ask any questions to disturb the quiet. + +"Reuben's a good boy!" she said, feeling that remark to be perfectly +safe. + +"I'm glad he's there," Faith answered gravely. "I heard all Dr. +Harrison said, mother." + +"Yes child," said her mother--as if she knew that before,--"I thought +you'd see Reuben too." + +"Reuben said the same, mother. And Mr. Linden himself sent word there +was no cause to be anxious." + +Faith did not say he had written that word to her. Perhaps her own +consciousness might have made her shy of the subject--or perhaps what +she judged to be people's false reports had left a sore spot in her +heart and she was afraid of touching _that_. But she did not speak of +the little note which had come to her. She was preparing her mother's +tea with all speed, while Mrs. Derrick on her part peeped into the +sugar-bowl to see if it wanted filling, and began to cut the bread. + +"I'm glad to hear it, child," she said. "Dr. Harrison's too smart for +me--I can't get a bit of good out of _him_. My, Faith! I suppose Mr. +Linden can manage him, but if I had that man buzzing round _me_, I +shouldn't know whether I was sick or well. When is he coming back, +child?" + +"I don't know, mother."--Then with the invincible instinct of truth, +she added, "He wants my work to be ready for him Monday." + +"Reuben's got a great deal of gumption!" said Mrs. Derrick, her heart +quite expanding with the pleasure of hearing Faith talk once more. "Now +half the boys in town would have blurted that right out to me and Dr. +Harrison together,--and I wouldn't trust _him_ for not asking +questions. But I'm sure I'm glad, child--it seems as if he'd been gone +a month. Do you think he'll come to morrow? Maybe he meant you should +send your work down to him." + +"I sha'n't do that," said Faith, as she gave her mother at last a cup +of tea that was to be drunk. But she had poured out none for herself. +She sat before the tea-tray, still and pale. Her mother looked at her. + +"You must take some, child." + +"I don't want it, mother."--And she brought everything that was on the +table round her mother's plate. + +"You must--" Mrs Derrick repeated. "I sha'n't, if you don't,--or else +I'll get you a glass of wine. Why child," she said, with a half sober, +half smiling look, which Faith for once did not read,--"he's better. +You ought to eat and be thankful." + +"I am thankful,"--Faith said, her head sinking for a moment. + +Mrs Derrick deliberately got up, went to the pantry, and fetching +thence a tiny cup and plate set them before Faith. + +"Eat, pretty child!" she said. "You know I'm right. If you don't look +out, Mr. Linden 'll be worse scared when he comes home than he's been +to-day, I guess." + +Faith gave her a look, both grateful and appealing, and very innocent +of belief in her statement;--and did honour the little cup so far as to +fill it with tea which she swallowed. But the plate she left clean. + +"I can't to-night, mother," she said in answer to Mrs. Derrick's look. +"I'll eat breakfast." + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + + +It cannot be said that sleep came to Faith's eyes unbidden,--yet once +come, sleep rested there sweetly, even beyond her usual time; and the +first disturbing sound, in that misty Sunday morning, was the stopping +of a wagon at the front door. But if Faith ran to the window with any +special expectations, they were disappointed,--there was nothing at the +door but Crab, his companion the little wagon, and Mrs. Derrick +composedly getting out of the same. Which was at least surprising +enough. The good lady's next appearance was a very noiseless one in +Faith's room. + +"Dear mother! where have you been?" + +"Why I've been trying to get ahead of Dr. Harrison," said her mother +sitting down; "and I did it too. I should have been home before if I +hadn't been afraid of meeting him--so I had to take a cross road." Mrs. +Derrick seemed tired. + +"You needn't look at me so, child," she said, taking off her bonnet. +"It's enough to see one pale face in a morning. I did see him, Faith, +though I didn't speak to him." + +"How did he look, mother?" + +"I don't suppose he really looked bad--considering," said Mrs. Derrick, +with the tired look on her own face; "but I am not used to seeing him +pulled down. It sort of upset me to see him lie there and those two +boys keeping watch of him. I declare, Faith! I wouldn't like to be the +one to touch him with them sitting by!" + +"But how is he, mother? who did you see?" + +"I didn't see anybody but them--Mr. Simlins wasn't up. They said he +seemed better, dear--and that if I'd seen him last night I'd think he +had quite a colour now: so I suppose he is better. Only I haven't got +the heart of a kitten sometimes--" and a little motion of the lips +warned Faith that if her mother was sparing of details it was because +she could scarce give them. + +"But isn't he as well as the doctor said? He would look pale, you +know"-- + +"I shouldn't have known from what the doctor said, that he'd anything +more than a scratch on the tip end of his little finger!" said Mrs. +Derrick,--"so I believe I didn't expect even to see him look pale. And +all the while, the doctor was staring at the pantry doors--I didn't +know but he'd get up and open 'em and look in." + +"You said _two_ boys were there? who beside Reuben Taylor?" + +"O Sam Stoutenburgh was 'tother side," said Mrs. Derrick, "and wanted +to know how you were. I'd a great mind to tell him it was none of his +business. I suppose he thinks his heart is as large as he is, and can +hold everything at once." + +A shadow of something seemed to cross Faith at the mention of Sam's +name. She turned away and began dressing herself. + +"Don't stir again, mother," she said. "I'll come down and see about +breakfast." + +"It'll rest me to go with you, child,--I told Reuben I'd come again and +stay if Mr. Linden would let me, and Reuben will send me word. So I +want to see you in the mean time. But I don't think they'll send." + +The breakfast was a quiet meal, though Faith but poorly performed her +promise of eating. How Faith spent the hour after breakfast her mother +could but guess; then she came out with her bonnet on and kissed her +before setting off to Sunday school. The thick mist yet filled the air, +growing yellow now with the struggling sunbeams. She walked quick and +met nobody. + +Till she came to her place, and there she found not Charles twelfth +alone, but the two other little additions to her charge that had been +promised her. For though it was by no means 'cold weather'--the warm +sunny days lingering yet and this Sunday promising to be a good +specimen,--it happened that Johnny and his companion had received a +special injunction to come, as Faith found out, and were there +accordingly. + +And if Johnny regretted his old place in another class, it was not for +the reason his new teacher had feared. Faith's face was very +pale,--that of itself touched the children; and her words this day came +in a tone that won all the recesses of their hearts. She had forgot +about other teachers or children being in her neighbourhood; on those +three her stores of love and tenderness poured themselves out. She told +them with warm lips, of Christ and his love and his leading,--of the +safety and joy of his sheep,--of her wish that her little charge should +be lambs in that flock, and what sort of lambs they must be. Faith +spoke to her children very much as if she had been a child herself. +They knew instinctively, with very sure knowledge, that she belonged to +the fold of which she was joyously telling them. + +The children, on their part, met her variously. Johnny--with his clear +childish eyes, the flower-like unfolding of his little heart to that +warm sunshine--gave her more help than trouble,--she understood the +liking to teach him for her own sake. If his thoughts sometimes +wandered a little from her words, the downcast look, the slight quiver +of his childish lips, told Faith where they had gone; and she could +forgive him. But though at such times Robbie Waters always remembered +to look grave too, yet he displaced Faith's gravity once by whispering +to her (in the midst of her earnest admonitions to Charles twelfth) +that 'she knew she was pretty'; and was in general in an easy, docile +state of mind, and much interested and amazed at the 'deportment' of +his little neighbour, Charles twelfth. When Faith came out of the +school, she saw that all the seats of Mr. Linden's class were vacant; +and with that little reminding touch, went to her own place in the +church. + +It was between nine and ten o'clock, while Faith was yet lost in her +little charge, while Mrs. Derrick at home was thinking of her, and Mr. +Simlins was taking his late breakfast, that Dr. Harrison's curricle +reached the farmer's gate. All was quiet without the house, but when +Jenny Lowndes admitted the doctor into the hall, the array of hats and +caps upon the table might have startled a less professional man; might +have even suggested the idea that Mr. Simlins was giving a breakfast +party. + +"Let me see Mr. Linden," said the doctor. + +Jenny hesitated--then her fear of Dr. Harrison overcoming her scruples, +she walked softly to the door and opened it. But if the doctor wanted +to see his patient, he was obliged to wait a little; for the group of +boys--some standing, some kneeling--around the bed, hid everything +else. The room was very still, very _earnest;_ even Dr. Harrison could +feel that; the sound of words, very low-spoken, was all he could hear. +The closing door made itself heard, however,--several boys turned +round, and at once stepped aside; and the doctor saw his patient, not +dressed but lying as he had left him the night before. Mr. Linden +smiled--and saying some words to his class held out his hand towards +the doctor; but this was fastened upon at once by so many, that the +doctor again had to wait his turn; and it was not until everyone else +had touched that hand, some even with their lips, that he was left +alone with his patient. + +"What are you doing?" said he, in a sort of grave tone which did not +however mean gravity. "Holding a levee?--and do you receive your +courtiers at different hours according to their ages? in that case. I +have come at the wrong time." + +"No, you shall have the time all to yourself." + +"I see I have it! Are the juvenile members of society in Pattaquasset +accustomed to pay their respects to you at this hour in the morning?" + +"Not always. Once a week we meet to talk over pleasant things." + +"Have I interrupted the pleasant things now?" + +"No, I could not talk very long this morning. The boys were just going." + +"I wish I had come a little sooner," said Dr. Harrison. "I'm not a boy, +to be sure, but I don't know that they are privileged to monopolize all +pleasant things. If they are, I am against monopolies. However, if you +can't talk, you mustn't talk. How do you do?" + +"I do well--if a man can be doing well when he's doing nothing. I will +talk as long as you please--about pleasant things." + +The doctor however diverged to the state of his patient's health, nor +would talk of anything else till his investigations on that point were +made. The result of them seemed to be satisfactory. + +"Now Linden," he said, in atone that indicated they were free to ask +and answer,--"who was that fellow last night? have you any idea?" + +"It is difficult to identify a man when you are only within gunshot of +him--and after sundown," said Mr. Linden smiling. + +"Difficult--yes, it may be,--but you gathered something?" + +"I gathered a run." + +"That is," said the doctor looking at him, "you _have_ an opinion on +the subject and are not willing to risk it?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden, "I have had risk enough for one night." + +"You are mistaken, Linden. A hint might be quite enough to bring out +the certainty. My father is very eager about the matter, and is only +waiting for you to empower him to act." + +"I shall give you no hint," said Mr. Linden. "I might be willing to +risk my own opinion, but not another man's character." + +The doctor looked at him keenly and curiously. + +"What possible motive!"--he said. "For it is evident that the shot was +fired of intent, and evident that you yourself think so. It is +unheard-of!" + +"Were you bred to the bar, that you sum up evidence before it is +given?" said Mr. Linden, with a good-humoured raising of his brows at +the doctor. + +"But the man ran!" + +"So did I--he could hardly think I was much hurt." + +"I don't want to have such a fellow abroad in Pattaquasset," said the +doctor. "But suppose we go back to the pleasant things. You must start +the subject, Linden. Rousseau says a man can best describe the sweets +of liberty from the inside of a prison--so, I suppose, you being shot +at and laid on your back, can have no lack of theme." + +Mr. Linden smiled--the smile of a most unfettered spirit. + +"Liberty!" he said. "Yes, I have realized since I have lain here, that-- + + 'My soul is free, as ambient air,'-- + +My sense of liberty comes from the possession--not the want." + +"Prospective possession,"--said the doctor. "Unless indeed," he went on +with a humorous play of the lips--"you mean that my orders to you to +lie still, merely gave zest to your triumphant knowledge that you could +get up if you had a mind. A riotous degree of self-will that I believe +I do not possess. Was that what good Mrs. Derrick meant when she said +she wondered how I had hindered you?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden smiling--"she meant that she did not think you +had." + +"She didn't mean a thing of the kind! She spoke in pure wonder, and +made me begin to wonder in my turn." + +Which wonder Mr. Linden did not inquire into. + +"I am very sorry I wasn't a boy this morning!" said Dr. Harrison, after +standing and looking down at him a little. + +"Can't you sit down and say why?" + +"I should have heard so much!--which now I am not to hear. For if I had +been a boy, I should certainly not have been missing at your levee." + +"O you deceive yourself,--if you were a boy nothing short of my +authority would bring you, in the first place." + +"I have not the slightest doubt the power would have been found equal +to the resistance," said the doctor bowing. + +"Neither have I." + +"Well!--" said the doctor laughing a little peculiarly,--"in that case +I should have been here. Now I have a fancy to know what you call +pleasant things, Linden. You speak with a mouth full--as if there were +plenty of them." + +"Yes, there are plenty," Mr. Linden said, moving a little and resting +his face on his hand as if he felt tired; "but we were talking of only +two this morning,--heaven, and the way thither." + +Dr. Harrison looked at him steadily. + +"You are tired," he said gently. "You shall not talk any more to me +now, and I shall forbid your holding any more levees to-day. After +which," he added, the humourous expression coming back, "I shall expect +to hear a proclamation going through Pattaquasset, that, like the +knights of old, you are ready for all comers!--Well--I'll come and see +you to-morrow; and as long as you'll let me, as a friend; for the +pleasure of talking. You can have it all your own way, with a few more +days' strength. Will you have a levee to-morrow at the same hour?" + +A little play of the lips came with the answer-- + +"Will that suit you?--I'll send you word." Then looking up at the +doctor with a different expression, he added, "What do you think of my +pleasant things?" + +"Hardly in my line--" said the doctor with a carelessness which was +somewhat dubious in its character. "It is very well for those who find +the subject pleasant. I confess I have never studied it much." + +"Then you have but half learned your profession." But the words were so +spoken that they could not give offence. + +Neither did the doctor seem disposed to take offence. + +"I'll ask you what you mean by that to-morrow," he said very +pleasantly. "I thought I had learned my profession. Have you learned +yours?" The last words were with a keen eye to the answer. + +"Some people dignify my present business with that name," Mr. Linden +said. + +"Well, you shall discourse to me more at length to-morrow," said the +doctor. "Shall I come later?" + +"I don't expect to be in school to-morrow, so you may name your own +time," Mr. Linden said with a pleasant look. "But remember,--a +physician who has no skill to feel the pulse of the mind, no remedies +that can reach its fever or its chills,--is but half a physician. If I +had never studied the subject,--one word about heaven and the way +thither would be worth more to me than all the science of medicine ever +discovered! It is now--" he said in a low tone, as the flush passed +away. And then holding out his hand to Dr. Harrison, Mr. Linden added, +"I fully appreciate your skill and kindness--you need not doubt it." + +The hand was taken, and grasped, cordially but in silence. + +Whether the doctor went straight from Mr. Simlins' house to +church--where he was not a very constant attendant--it does not appear. +What is certain about the matter, is, that he was outside of the church +door after service just at the time that Faith Derrick found herself +there, and that he assumed a place at her side and walked with her +towards her mother's house instead of taking the other direction +towards his own. Faith was alone, Mrs. Derrick having chosen to stay at +home _in case_ she should be sent for. The mist had cleared off +completely, and the sunny warm air invited to lingering in it. Faith +would not have lingered, but the doctor walked slowly, and she could +not leave him. + +"I have been wanting to see you, ever since my inopportune proposal +yesterday," said he in a low tone,--"to make my peace with you." + +"It is made, sir," said Faith, giving him a smile. + +"How do you do to-day?" + +"Very well!" she told him. + +The doctor listened to the sound of her voice, and thought with himself +that as regarded the moral part of her nature the words were certainly +true. + +"Let me have the pleasure of relieving you of that,"--he said, taking +Faith's little Bible gently away from her. "I am going your way. Miss +Derrick--you spoke yesterday of particular work to be done on Sunday. +Have you any objection to tell me what you meant by it? I confess to +you, your words are somewhat dark to me. That is my fault, of course. +Will you give me light?" It was a gentle, grave, quiet tone of +questioning. + +"Others might do it far better, sir," said Faith. + +"I would far rather hear it from you!" + +The colour came a little into Faith's cheeks, but her words were given +with great simplicity. + +"The other days are taken up very much with the work of this +world--Sunday is meant more particularly for the work that belongs to +the other world." + +"And what is that? if you do not object to tell me. I confess, as I +tell you, I am ignorant." + +She forgot herself now, and looked steadily at him. + +"To learn to know God--with whom we have so much to do, here and +there;--to learn to know his will and to do it, and to bring others to +do it too, if we can.--And if we know and love him already, to enjoy it +and take the good of it,"--she added a little lower, and with a +softening of expression. + +Dr. Harrison read her look fixedly, till she turned it away from him. + +"And are these what you call pleasant things?" said he somewhat +curiously. + +But Faith's answer rang out from her heart. + +"Oh yes!"-- + +She stopped there, but evidently not for want of what to say. + +"You are a happy thing," said the doctor, but not in a way to make his +words other than graceful. "I wish you would make me as good as you +are." + +She looked at him, and answered very much as if she had been speaking +to a child. + +"God will make you much better, Dr. Harrison, if you ask him." + +He was silent a minute after that, without looking at her. When he +spoke again, it was with a change of tone. + +"You are of a different world from that in which I live; and the +flowers that are sweet to you, belong, I am afraid, to a Flora that I +have no knowledge of. What, for instance, would you call pleasant +things to talk about--if you were choosing a subject of conversation?" + +Faith looked a little surprised. + +"A great many things are pleasant to me," she said smiling. + +"I am sure of that! But indulge me--what would you name as supremely +such, to talk about?" + +"If they are talked about _right_," said Faith gently, "I don't know +anything so pleasant as those things I was speaking of--what God will +have us do in this world, and what he will do for us in the next." + +"'Heaven and the way thither'--" said Dr. Harrison to himself. + +"What, sir?" said Faith. + +"I should like to have you answer me that; but I am sorry, I see Mrs. +Derrick's house not far beyond us.--I saw our friend Mr. Linden this +morning." + +"Is he better?" said Faith simply. + +"He's doing very well. I told him he'd be a terribly famous man after +this. And it's begun. I found near all the boys in Pattaquasset +assembled there this morning." + +"His Bible class--" said Faith, with a feeling which did not however +come into her face or voice, and Dr. Harrison watched both. + +"Here is _your_ Bible," he said as they stopped at the little gate. "Do +you always look so pale on Sundays?" he added with a look and tone of +half professional half friendly freedom. + +"Not always," Faith said; but there came at the same time a little +tinge into the cheeks,--that Dr. Harrison wished away. + +"May I come and earn your forgiveness for yesterday's stupidity?" + +"Certainly!" Faith said,--"but there needs no forgiveness--from me, Dr. +Harrison." + +He left her with a graceful, reverential obeisance; and Faith went in. + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + + +Dr. Harrison had but little left Mr. Linden that morning, when Mr. +Simlins came in. He had hardly seen his guest yet that day, except, +like Mrs. Derrick, when he was asleep. For having watched himself the +greater part of the night, for the pure pleasure of it, Mr. Simlins' +late rest had brought him almost to the hour when the boys came to what +the doctor called Mr. Linden's levee. + +"Well how do you find yourself?" said the farmer, standing at the foot +of the bed and looking at its occupant with a kind of grim satisfaction. + +"I find myself tired, sir--and at the same time intending to get up. +Mr. Simlins, are you going down to church this afternoon?" + +"Well, no," said the farmer. "I think it's as good church as I can do, +to look arter you." + +"You can have both," said Mr. Linden smiling,--"I should go with you." + +"You aint fit," said the farmer regretfully. + +"Fit enough--I'll come back and stay with you another day, when I am +well, if you'll let me." + +"Will you?" said the farmer. "I'll bottle that 'ere promise and cork it +up; and if it aint good when I pull the cork--then I'll never play +Syrian again, for no one. But s'pose I ain't goin' to church?" + +"Then I shall have to take Reuben." + +"You sha'n't take no one but me," growled Mr. Simlins. "I'd rather see +you out of my house than not--if I can't see you in it." + +The bells were ringing out for the early afternoon service when they +set forth; not ringing against each other, as which should give the +loudest call for its own particular church, but with alternate strokes +speaking the same thing--the one stepping in when the other was out of +broath. The warm sunshine rested upon all--"the evil and the good," and +spoke its own message though not so noisily. Along the road Mr. +Simlins' little covered wagon (chosen for various reasons) went at an +easy pace; with one to drive, and one to bear the motion as best he +might; and a third who would almost have agreed to be a pillow or a +cushion for the rest of his life, if he could have been one for that +day. What there were of that sort in the wagon, or indeed in the house, +were to Reuben's eyes far too thin and ineffectual. A little +excitement, a very earnest desire to get home once more, did partially +supply the need; and by the time the houses were empty and the churches +full, the wagon stopped at Mrs. Derrick's gate. + +"I guess nobody's home," said Mr. Simlins as he with great tenderness +helped Mr. Linden to alight--"but anyway, here's the house all +standin'. Reuben, you go ahead and see if we can get in." + +But before Reuben touched the door, Mrs. Derrick had opened it from the +inside, and stood there--her usually quiet manner quite subdued into +silence. Not into inaction however, for her woman's hands soon made +their superior powers known, and Mr. Simlins could only wonder why this +and that had not occurred to him before. Quick and still and +thoughtful, she had done half a dozen little things to make Mr. Linden +comfortable before he had been in the house as many minutes, and +assured the two others very confidently that "he shouldn't faint again, +if he wanted to ever so much!" + +"Well, I was sorry to let him go," said Mr. Simlins, "and now I'm glad +of it. It takes a woman! Where's some-somebody else?" + +"There's nobody else in the house," said Mrs. Derrick. "Faith's gone to +meeting, and Cindy too, for all I know." + +"I'll send Dr. Harrison word in the morning where _I_ am," said Mr. +Linden,--which Mr. Simlins rightly understood to mean that the fact +need not be published to-night. He took gentle leave of this lost guest +and went to church; excusing himself for it afterwards by saying he +felt lonely. + +If Faith had seen him there, she might have jumped at conclusions +again; but she did not; and after the service walked home, slowly +again, though nobody was with her. A little wearied by this time with +the night and the day's work, wearied in body and mind perhaps, she +paced homewards along the broad street or road, on which the yellow +leaves of the trees were floating lazily down, and which was all filled +from sky and wayside with golden light. It brought to mind her walk of +last Sunday afternoon--and evening;--the hymn, and those other lines +Mr. Linden had repeated and which had run in her head fifty times +since. And Faith's step grew rather slower and less lightsome as she +neared home, and when she got home she went straight up to her room +without turning to the right or the left. Her mother was just then in +the kitchen and heard her not, and shielded by her bonnet Faith saw not +even that Mr. Linden's door stood open; but when she came out again a +while after, the full stream of sunlight that came thence into the +passage drew her eyes that way. And Faith did not wonder then that her +mother had been startled, and unprepared by the doctor's words for the +sight of what she now saw. The chintz-covered couch was drawn before +the window, in the full radiance of the sunlight, and Mr. Linden lay +there looking out; but the sunlight found no glow in his face, unless +one as etherial as itself. The habitual sweet pure look was there--a +look that reminded Faith of the one Johnny had worn in the morning; but +the face was perfectly colourless. The bandaged arm was supported only +by a sling, upon the other hand his cheek rested wearily. Faith looked, +hesitated, then stepped lightly into the room and stood before him; +with a face not indeed quite so pale as his own, but that only the +sunlight hindered his seeing was utterly without its usual colour. She +found nothing to say, apparently: for she did not speak, only held out +her hand. He had turned at the first sound of her step and watched +her--at first smiling, then grave--as she came near; and taking her +hand as silently as it was given, Mr. Linden looked up at her +face,--perhaps to see whether his instructions had been obeyed. + +"I have had men's hands about me so long," he said, "that yours feels +like--" he did not specify what, but held it a minute as if he were +trying to find out. "Miss Faith, you want to be rocked to sleep." + +Could he see that her lips trembled? He could feel how her hand did; +but her look was as frank as ever. + +"Are you less well to-day?"--she said at last, in a voice that was +little above a whisper, and stopped short of his name. + +"Less well than yesterday at this time--not less well than this +morning. A little more tired, perhaps." He spoke very quietly, +answering her words and letting his hand and eye do the rest. "Has Mrs. +Derrick a cradle in the house that would hold you?" + +Perhaps Faith hardly heard the question, for she did not acknowledge it +by so much as a smile. She wished to ask the further question, whether +the assurance of last night was still true; but his appearance had +driven such fear to her heart that she dared not ask it. She stood +quite still a minute, but when she spoke her words were in the utmost +clear sweetness of a woman's voice. + +"Can I do something for you, Mr. Linden?" + +"You are doing something for me now--it is so pleasant to see you. But +Miss Faith, I shall have to reclaim some of your scholars; you have +been teaching too much to-day." + +"No--" she said,--"I have had no chance." + +"No chance to teach too much? And why?" + +"Why," she said--"I had only the usual hour this morning. I could do no +more." + +"You look as if you had been teaching all day--or taught, which is but +another branch. What did my boys say to you?" + +"I think they thought they were saying to you, Mr. Linden,--they +behaved so well." + +He smiled. + +"I don't believe even your conjuring powers could bring about such a +hallucination, Miss Faith.--What a day it has been! Look at that +sunlight and think of the city that hath 'no need of the sun'!" + +She looked where he bade her, but the contrast was a little too strong +just then with the earth that had so much 'need' of it! Only the +extreme gravity of her face however indicated anything of the struggle +going on. Her eye did not move,--nor eyelid. + + +"_That_ is the only rest we must wait 'for,'" Mr. Linden said. "That +'remaineth.'" + +Faith answered nothing. But after a little while the shadow of that +sunlight passed away from her face, and she turned to the couch again +and asked with her former gentle expression, + +"Will you have tea up here, Mr. Linden?" + +"I'm afraid I must," he said, looking up at her with eyes that rather +questioned than answered. + +"Does mother know what you would like to have?" + +"Miss Faith--I wish you would tell me just what is troubling you." + +The question flushed her a little, and for a moment her face was a +quick play of light and shade; then she said, + +"It troubled me not to see you looking better." + +He took the force of her words, though he answered lightly. + +"I suppose I do look rather frightful! But Miss Faith, I hope to get +over that in a few days--you must try and brace up your nerves, because +if you cannot bear the sight of me I shall have to deny myself the +sight of you." + +"Don't do that," she said, the light coming into her eye and voice as +if by an actual sunbeam. "Then it is true, what you wrote me last +night, Mr. Linden?" + +"Well!" he said--"I am not much in the habit of maintaining my own +words,--however, in this case I am willing to admit them true. If it +will be any relief to your mind, Miss Faith, I will promise to remain +in seclusion until you say I am fit to be seen down stairs." + +The answer to that was only a rosy little smile, like the sunlight +promise of fair weather on the last clouds that float over the horizon. +But perhaps his words had brought her mind back to the question of +supper for she asked again, + +"What are you to have for tea to-night, Mr. Linden?" + +"May I take a great liberty?" he said with a look as grave as before. + +"I don't know how you can,"--she said and with eyes somewhat surprised, +that said in their own way it was impossible. + +A little smile--which she scarce saw--came first, and then her hand was +brought to his lips. But it was done too gravely and gently to startle +even her. + +"Now you must go and rest," Mr. Linden said. "I want nothing for tea +that shall cost one extra step." + +Faith went about as silently and demurely as a cat that has had her +ears boxed and been sent out of the dairy. Only in this case she went +_to_ her dairy; from whence in due time she emerged with cream and +butter and made her appearance in the kitchen. + + +"Well _child!_" said Mrs. Derrick. "When did you get home? and what did +you do with yourself? I've looked and looked for you till I was tired, +and if you'd staid five minutes more I should have run all over town +after you." + +"Why mother!" said Faith, "I was in my own room for a good while. I got +home in usual time." + +"Well!"--said her mother, "I hope next time you'll say as much--that's +all. Do you know we've got company, Faith?" + +"Who, mother?--O I've seen Mr. Linden." + +"I meant him," said Mrs. Derrick. "I'm sure the house seems as if it +had twice as many in it since he came." + +"He ought to have tea, now, mother. Isn't Cindy home yet?" + +"No, but that's no matter--I'll take it up in two minutes. Where's the +teapot--" + +"I think, mother," said Faith as she was adding the last touches to the +tray which was to go up stairs,--"I must have put Mr. Linden in mind of +his sister, or somebody, this afternoon. I am afraid he misses them +now." + +"What do you mean by somebody?" said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Some of his own family, I mean. I thought so." + +"I don't believe you ever put anybody in mind of anybody else," said +Mrs. Derrick confidently. "What made you think so, child?" + +"Something made me think so,"--said Faith rather abstractly. "Now +mother--it is ready, and I'll take it up stairs if you'll take it then." + +"I guess I'm up to as much as taking it all the way," said her mother, +lifting the tray. "I'll be down presently, dear,--you must want _your_ +tea." And up stairs she went. + +Reuben came to stay all night, so the ladies had only to take their own +much needed sleep, in peace; and a note of information was left at Dr. +Harrison's door next morning, some time before that gentleman was awake. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + + +"I know what I have to do to-day," said Faith the next morning. "Mr. +Skip has got the box made, mother, and now I want the stuff to cover +it." + +"Well that's ready--in my pantry, child." + +Whereupon Reuben offered his services; but all that was given him to do +was to carry up Mr. Linden's breakfast. This was hardly well over when +Dr. Harrison came. He was shewn into the sitting-room, just as Faith +with her arms full of brown moreen came into it also from the pantry. +The doctor was not going to lose a shake of the hand, and waited for +the brown moreen to be deposited on the floor accordingly. + +"You are looking more like yourself to-day," he said. + +"I will call mother," said Faith. Which she did, leaving the doctor in +company with the brown moreen. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said he, speaking by no means without a purpose, "I +have cause of complaint against you! What have you done to allure my +patient down here against orders?" + +"He's better here," said Mrs. Derrick with a cool disposing of the +subject. "What did you want to keep him up there for, doctor?" + +"Only acted upon a vigorous principle of Mr. Linden's nature, +madam.--If I had ordered him to come, he would have stayed. May I see +him?" + +And Mrs. Derrick preceded the doctor up stairs, opened the door of the +room and shut it after him. Mr. Linden was on the couch, but it was +wheeled round by the side of the fire now, for the morning was cool. A +little heap of unopened letters and post despatches lay before him, but +the white paper in his hand seemed not to have come from the heap. As +the doctor entered, this was folded up and transferred to the disabled +hand for safe keeping. + +Mr. Linden had that quality (much more common among women than among +men) of looking well in undress; but let no one suppose that I mean the +combination of carelessness and disorder which generally goes by that +name, and which shews (most of all) undress of the mind. I mean simply +that style of dress which Sam Weller might call 'Ease afore +Ceremony;'--in its delicate particularity, Mr. Linden's undress might +have graced a ball-room; and, as I have said, the dark brown wrapper +with its wide sleeves was becoming. Dr. Harrison might easily see that +his patient was not only different from most of the neighbourhood, but +also from most people that he had seen anywhere; and that peculiar +reposeful look was strongly indicative of power. + +"Good morning!" said the doctor. "Do you expect me to behave well this +morning?" + +"Why no--" said Mr. Linden. "My experience hitherto has not led me to +expect anything of the sort." + +The doctor stood before the fire, looking down at him, smiling almost, +yet with a keen eye, as at a man whose measure he had not yet succeeded +in taking. + +"What did you come down here for, without my leave? And how do you do? +For you see, I mean to behave well." + +"I came down because I wanted to be at home," said Mr. Linden. "And I +did not ask leave, because I meant to come whether or no. You see what +a respect I have for your orders." + +"Yes," said the doctor,--"that is a very ancient sort of respect. How +do you do, Linden?" + +"I suppose, well,--as to feeling, I should not care to go through the +Olympic games, even in imagination; and the various sensations in my +left arm make me occasionally wish they were in my right." + +The doctor proceeded to an examination of the arm. It was found not to +be taking the road to healing so readily as had been hoped. + +"I am afraid it may be a somewhat tedious affair," said Dr. Harrison, +as he renewed the bandages in the way they ought to be. "I wish I had +hold of that fellow! This may take a little time to come to a +harmonious disposition, Linden, and give you a little annoyance. And at +the same time, it's what you deserve!" said he, retaking his disengaged +manner as he finished what he had to do. "I almost wish I could +threaten you with a fever, or something serious; but I see you are as +sound as that 'axletree' our friend spoke of the other day. There it +is! You have learned to do evil with impunity. For I confess this has +nothing to do with the exercise of your lawless disposition yesterday. +Why didn't you let me bring you, if you wanted to come? That old fellow +can't have anything drawn by horses, that goes easier than a harrow!" + +"Let you bring me!" said Mr. Linden. "Would you have done it against +your own orders?" + +"Under your authority! which is equal to anything, you know." + +"Well," said Mr. Linden, "will you take a seat under my authority, and +then take the benefit of my fire? What is going on in the outer world?" + +"I haven't any idea!" said the doctor. "Pattaquasset seems to me to be, +socially, at one extreme pole of the axletree before-mentioned, and +while I am here I feel no revolution of the great mass heaving beyond. +It takes away one's breath, does Pattaquasset." + +"You are making it akin to 'the music of the spheres,'" said Mr. Linden. + +"Is that what you find in Pattaquasset?" said the doctor. "Your ears +must be pleasantly constituted--or more agreeably saluted than those of +other mortals. The only music I know of here is Miss Derrick's voice. +Does she feed upon roses, like the Persian bulbul?" + +"I should suppose not--unless roses impart their colour in that way," +said Mr. Linden, softly turning the folded paper from side to side. + +"This is a nice place," said the doctor surveying the room--"and you +look very comfortable. I should like to take your invitation and sit +down--but I mustn't. Won't you try and put a good opinion of me into +the head of Mrs Derrick?" + +"What an extraordinary request!" said Mr. Linden, laughing a little. +"Pray what am I to understand by it? And why mustn't you sit +down?--here is something to rejoice your heart with a few of the +aforesaid upheavings of Society;" and he handed the doctor an unopened +foreign newspaper. + +"Absolutely irresistible!" said the doctor, and he broke the cover, +took a chair and sat down before the fire; where for awhile to all +appearance he also made himself 'comfortable'; and certainly turned and +returned and ran over the paper in an artistic manner. + +"After all," said he, "it's a bore! this alternation of knocking each +other down which the nations of the earth practise,--and the +societies,--and the men! It's a pugilistic world we live in, Linden. +It's a bore to keep up with them,--for one must know who's atop--both +in Europe and in Pattaquasset--where you are just now the king of men's +mouths--And all the while it don't a pin signify, except to the one who +is atop;--I beg your pardon!" + +"How long must I, being 'atop,' lie here? All this week?" + +"What will you do if I say more than that?" + +"Why I'll listen respectfully. Do you know I like to see you sitting +there?--Here is another paper for you." + +The doctor looked at him with an odd, frankly inquisitive smile; but he +only took the paper to play with it. + +"I wonder if I may ask a roundabout favour from you?" + +"You may ask anything--" said Mr. Linden. "I would rather have it in a +straight-forward form." + +"Can't," said the doctor, "because it is crooked. I suppose at this +hour every lady in Pattaquasset expects that her friends will not call +her away from her affairs; and I stupidly forgot to deliver my message +when I had a moment's chance this morning. Now as it is possible you +may see this--if she cannot be called the silver-footed Thetis, she is +certainly the silver-tongued--you would know how to address her?" + +"Thetis!--probably, when I see her." + +"I may presume you will know her when you see her,--and that brings me +to my point. I have got some good microscopic preparations which I am +to have the pleasure of exhibiting to-night to some friends of my +sister. Now it would greatly add to her pleasure and mine, if this +mortal Polyhymnia will consent to be of the number--and this is what I +was going to ask you, if you please, to communicate to her or to her +mother, in whose good graces, as I told you," said the doctor with a +funny smile, "I don't think I have the honour to stand high. Sophy +would have written this morning, but I gave her no chance. I will call +for Miss Derrick this evening if she will allow me." + +Mr. Linden took out his pencil and made a note of the facts. + +"First," he said, "I am to communicate, then you are to call, after +that to exhibit. Do you call that crooked?--why it's as straight as the +road from here to your house." + +Dr. Harrison looked--and for a minute did not anything else. + +"For your arm, Linden," he said then getting up from his chair, and a +smile of doubtful comicality moving his lip a little--"we shall know +better about it in two or three weeks; but certainly I think you must +be content to stay at home for double those--that's undoubted." + +Mr. Linden gave the doctor a quick glance, but the smile which followed +was 'undoubted' in another way. + +"When two opposing forces meet at right angles, doctor," he said, "you +know what happens to the object. Not contented inertia." + +"Contented! no, very likely,--not when it is _this_ object. But you +will find a third force will establish the inertia." + +"What is your third force?" + +"The necessity of the case," said the doctor seriously. + +But to that Mr. Linden made no reply. The conversation had been kept up +not only against weakness but against pain, and he lay very still and +colourless for a long time after the doctor closed the door. + +Meanwhile Faith, busy at her brown moreen, made her mother's job of +mending seem like embroidery; but by degrees Mrs. Derrick's face became +thoughtful, and she said, rather emphatically, + +"Child, have you been up to see Mr. Linden to-day?" + +Faith's hammer dropped, and her hands too. + +"No, mother," she said, looking at her. + +"Why child!"--Mrs. Derrick began,--then she stopped and began again. "I +guess he'd rather see you than that box, child,--if the doctor hasn't +talked him to death." + +"Mother, do you think he would like to have me come up and see him?" + +"Like it?" said Mrs. Derrick, her mind almost refusing to consider such +an absurd question. "I'm sure he likes to see you when he's well, +Faith. Didn't he like it last night?" + +Faith looked a little bit grave, then she hastily pushed her brown +moreen and box into a somewhat more orderly state of disorganization, +and went up stairs, with a quick light step that was not heard before +her tap at Mr. Linden's door. And then receiving permission she went +in, a little rosy this time at venturing into the charmed region when +its occupant was there; and came with her step a little lighter, a +little slower, up to the side of the couch and held out her hand; +saying her soft "How do you do, Mr. Linden?" + +He was lying just as the doctor had left him, with the unopened +letters, and the white paper which Faith felt instinctively was her own +exercise. But eye and hand were ready for her. + +"Courageous Miss Faith!" he said with a smile. "And so, 'She's gentle +and not fearful'?" + +She smiled, with an eye that took wistful note of him. + +"How do you feel to-day, Mr. Linden?" + +"Not very well--and not worse. Miss Faith, do you know that we have a +great deal to do this week? You may lock up your stocking basket." + +"Please let me do something for you, Mr. Linden?" she said earnestly. + +"That's just what I'm talking about. Do you think, Miss Faith, that if +you brought that low chair here, and set the door wide open so that you +could run out if you got frightened at my grim appearance, you would be +willing to philosophize a little?" + +"Not to-day, Mr. Linden," said Faith. "Don't speak so! I haven't any +stocking basket in the way. Can't I do _something_ that would do you +some good?" + +"It would do me a great deal of good to get up and set that chair for +you, but that is something I must ask you to do for me. I see you want +coaxing"--he added, looking at her. "Well--if you will do half a dozen +things for me this morning, you shall have the reward of a letter and +two messages." + +Faith looked down doubtful,--doubtful, whether to do what would please +herself, and him, would be just right to-day; but the pleading of the +affirmative side of the question was too strong. She gave up +considering the prudential side of the measure, thinking that perhaps +Mr. Linden knew his own feelings best; and once decided, let pleasure +have its full flow. With hardly a shade upon the glad readiness of her +movements, she placed the chair and brought the book, and sat docile +down, though keeping a jealous watch for any sign of pain or weariness +that should warn her to stop. And from one thing to another he led her +on, talking less than usual, perhaps, himself, but giving her none the +less good a lesson. And the signs she sought for could not be found. +Weary he was not, mentally, and physical nature knew its place. Last of +all, the little exercise was opened and commented upon and praised--and +she praised through it, though very delicately. + +"Have I tired you?" he said, as the town clock struck an hour past the +mid-day. + +"Oh no!--And you, Mr. Linden?" + +In what a different tone the two parts of her speech were spoken. + +"I have not hurt myself," he said smiling. "Perhaps by and by, this +afternoon, you will let me see you again. Dr. Harrison threatens to +keep me at home for two or three weeks, and I want to make the most of +them,--I may not have such a time of leisure again." And then Mr. +Linden gave the doctor's message--a message, very strictly, and as near +as possible in the doctor's own words, receiving as little tinge as it +well could from the medium through which it passed. + +"The other message," he said, giving her a letter, "you will find +there." + +"A message?"--said Faith doubtfully and flushing with pleasure--"isn't +this one of your sister's letters?" + +"Yes. Mayn't she send you a message?" + +A very modest and very happy smile and deepening blush answered that; +and she ran away with a sudden compunctious remembrance of Mr. Linden's +dinner. + +After dinner Faith had something to do in the kitchen, and something to +do in other parts of the house, and then she would have read the letter +before all things else; but then came in a string of company--one after +the other, everybody wanting the news and much more than could be +given. So it was a succession of flourishing expectations cut down and +blasted; and both Faith and her mother grew tired of the exercise of +cutting down and blasting, and Faith remembered with dismay that the +afternoon was wearing and Mr. Linden had wished to see her again. She +seized her chance and escaped at last, between the adieu of one lady +and the accost of another who was even then coming up from the gate, +and knocked at Mr. Linden's door again just as Mrs. Derrick was taking +her minister's wife into the parlour. Her first move this time on +coming in, was to brush up the hearth and put the fire in proper order +for burning well; then she faced round before the couch and stood in a +sort of pleasant expectation, as waiting for orders. + +"You are a bright little visiter!" Mr. Linden said, holding out his +hand to her. "You float in as softly and alight as gently as one of +these crimson leaves through my window. Did anybody ever tell you the +real reason why women are like angels?" + +"I didn't know they were," said Faith laughing, and with something more +of approximation to a crimson leaf. + +"'They are all ministering spirits,'" he said looking at her. "But you +must be content with that, Miss Faith, and not make your visits angelic +in any other sense. What do you suppose I have been considering this +afternoon?--while you have been spoiling the last Pattaquasset story by +confessing that I am alive?" + +"Did you hear them coming in?" said Faith. "I didn't know when they +were going to let me get away.--What have you been considering, Mr. +Linden?" + +"The wide-spread presence and work of beauty. You see what a shock you +gave my nervous system yesterday. Will you please to sit down, Miss +Faith?" + +Faith sat down, clearly in a puzzle; from which she expected to be +somehow fetched out. + +"What do you suppose is beauty's work in the world?--I don't mean any +particular Beauty." + +Faith looked at the crimson leaves on the floor--for the window was +open though the fire was burning; then at the fair sky outside, seen +beyond and through some other crimson leaves yet hanging on the large +maple there,--then coming back to the face before her, she smiled and +said, + +"I don't know--except to make people happy, Mr. Linden." + +"That is one part of its use, certainly. But take the thousands of +wilderness flowers, and the thousands of deep sea shells; look at the +carvings on the scale of a fish, which no human eye can see without a +glass, or those other exquisite patterns traced upon the roots and +stems of some of the fossil pines, which were hid in the solid rock +before there was a human eye to see. What is _their_ use?" + +To the wilderness and to the deep sea, Faith's thought and almost her +eye went, and she took some time to consider the subject. + +"I suppose--" she said thoughtfully--"I don't know, Mr. Linden." + +"Did you ever consider those words which close the account of the +Creation--'God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very +good'." + +"That is what I was going to say!" she said modestly but with +brightening colour,--"that perhaps he made all those things, those you +spoke of, for _himself?_" + +"For himself--to satisfy the perfectness of his own character. And +think how different the divine and the human standards of perfection! +Not the outward fair colour and proportion merely, not the perfect +fitness and adaptation, not the most utilitarian employment of every +grain of dust, so that nothing is lost,--not even the grandest scale of +working, is enough; but the dust on the moth's wing must be plumage, +and the white chalk cliffs must be made of minute shells, each one of +which shines like spun silver or is figured like cut glass. Not more +steadily do astronomers discover new worlds, than the microscope +reveals some new perfection of detail and finish in our own." + +Faith listened, during this speech, like one literally seeing 'into +space,' as far as an embodied spirit can, for the first time. Then with +a smile, a little sorrowful, she brought up with, + +"I don't know anything of all that, Mr. Linden! Do you mean that chalk +is really made of little shells?" + +"Yes, really--and blue mould is like a miniature forest. You will know +about it"--he said with a smile. "But do you see how this touches the +standard of moral perfection?--how it explains that other word, 'Be ye +also perfect'." + +Faith had not seen before, but she did now; for in her face the answer +flashed most eloquently. She was silent. + +"That is the sort of perfection we are promised," Mr. Linden went on +presently,--"that is the sort of perfection we shall see. Now, both +glass and eye are imperfect,--specked, and flawed, and short-sighted; +and can but faintly discern 'the balancings of the clouds, the wondrous +works of him that is perfect in knowledge.' But then!-- + + 'When sin no more obstructs our sight, + When sorrow pains our hearts no more, + How shall we view the Prince of Light, + And all his works of grace explore! + What heights and depths of love divine + Will then through endless ages shine!'" + + +The words moved her probably, for she sat with her face turned a little +away so that its play or its gravity were scarce so well revealed. Not +very long however. The silence lasted time enough to let her thoughts +come back to the subject never very far from them. + +"You are tired, Mr. Linden." + +"By what chain of reasoning, Miss Faith?" + +"I know by the sound of your voice. And you eat nothing to-day. Do you +like cocoa, Mr. Linden?" she added eagerly. + +He smiled a little and answered yes. + +"Then I shall bring you some!" + +Faith stayed for no answer to that remark, but ran off. Half an hour +good had passed away, but very few minutes more, when her soft tap was +heard at the door again and herself entered, accompanied with the cup +of cocoa and a plate of dainty tiny strips of toast. + +"Aunt Dilly left some here," she said as she presented the cup,--"and +she says it is good; and she shewed me how to make it. Aunt Dilly has +lived all her life with a brother who has lived a great part of _his_ +life with a French wife--so Aunt Dilly has learned some of her +ways--and this is one of them." + +But Mr. Linden looked as if he thought 'the way' belonged emphatically +to somebody else. + +"And so I am under the rule of the blue ribbands still!" he said as he +raised himself up to do honour to the cup of cocoa. "Miss Faith, do you +know you are subjecting yourself to the penalty of extra lessons?" + +"How, Mr. Linden?" + +"Don't you know that is one of the punishments for bad conduct? It's a +great act of insubordination to bring one cocoa without leave." + +She laughed, and then paid her attentions to the fire again; after +which she stood by the hearth to see the cocoa disposed of, till she +came to take the cup. + +"Are you in pain, much, Mr. Linden?" she asked as she did this. + +"Not mental--" he said with a smile; "and the physical can be borne +Miss Faith, that cocoa was certainly better than I ever had from the +hands of anybody's French wife. You must have improved upon the +receipt." + +"When Dr. Harrison comes for me this evening, shall he come up and see +you again?" + +"If he wishes--there is no need else." + +"How did it happen, Mr. Linden?" she said with a very serious face. + +"On this wise, Miss Faith. I, walking home at a rather quick pace, was +suddenly 'brought to' as the sailors say, by this shot in my arm. But +as for the moment it affected the mind more than the body, I turned and +gave chase,--wishing to enquire who had thus favoured me, and why. But +the mind alone can only carry one a certain distance, and before I had +caught my man I found myself in such danger of fainting that I turned +about again, and made the best of my way to the house of Mr. Simlins. +The rest you know." + +"What did the man run for?" + +"There is no thread in my nature that just answers that question," said +Mr. Linden. "I _suppose_ he ran because he was frightened." + +"But what should have frightened him?" + +"The idea of my displeasure probably," said Mr. Linden smiling. "Have +you forgotten my character for cruelty, Miss Faith?" + +"_But_--" said Faith. "Why should he think he had displeased you? He +wasn't near you, was he?" + +"Why I am not supposed to be one of those amiable people who like to be +shot," said Mr. Linden in the same tone. + +"But how near was he, Mr. Linden?" + +"Within gunshot range, of course--the precise distance is not easily +measured at such a moment." + +"But if he was not near," said Faith, "how could he think that his shot +had touched you? He couldn't see it--and your running wouldn't seem +like a man seriously injured?" + +"He might think I disapproved of discharging a gun at random, in the +public road." + +"You don't suppose it could have been done on purpose, Mr. Linden!" she +said in a changed awe-stricken tone. + +"I have no right to assume anything of the kind--there are all sorts of +so-called accidents. But Miss Faith! if you look so frightened I shall +begin to think you are an accomplice! What do _you_ know about it?" he +added smiling. + +"Nothing--" she said rather sadly, "except a little look of something, +I don't know what, in your face when you said that, Mr. Linden." + +"You must not look grave--nor think twice about the matter in any way," +he said with a sort of kind gravity that met hers. "Is there light +enough for you to read that first chapter of Physical Geography, and +talk to me about it?--it is your turn to talk now." + +"Do you mean, aloud?--or to myself, Mr. Linden?" she asked a little +timidly, + +"I mean, to me." + +Faith did not object, though her colour rose very visibly. She placed +herself to catch the fading light, and read on, talking where it was +absolutely necessary, but sparing and placing her questions so as to +call forth as few words as possible in reply. And becoming engaged in +the interest of the matter she almost forgot her timidity;--not quite, +for every now and then something made it rise to the surface. The +daylight was fading fast, sunlight had already gone, and the wood fire +began to throw its red gleams unchecked; flashing fitfully into the +corners of the room and playing hide and seek with the shadows. A +little rising of the wind and light flutter of the leaves against the +glass, only made the warm room more cheerful. Faith made the fire burn +brightly, and finished the chapter by that, with the glow of the +flickering flame dancing all over her and her book in the corner where +she sat. But pages of pleasure as well as of prettiness, all those +pages were. + +"Thank you, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said as she closed the book. "I +only wish I could give you a walk now in this bright evening air; but I +must wait for that." + +A little tap at the door came at this point to take its place in the +conversation. It was Mrs. Derrick. + +"Child," said the good lady, "here's Dr. Harrison down stairs." And +stepping into the room, Mrs. Derrick walked softly up to the couch, and +not only made enquiries but felt of Mr. Linden's hand to see if he had +any fever. Faith waited, standing a little behind the couch head. + +"I'm not quite sure--" she said,--"your hand's a little warm, sir--but +then it's apt to be towards night,--and maybe mine's a little cool. If +you could only go to sleep, it would do you so much good!" + +And Mr. Linden laughingly promised to try, but would not guarantee the +success thereof. + +Faith went down stairs, a little afraid that she had been doing harm +instead of good, and at the same time not seeing very well how she +could have helped it. She found Dr. Harrison in the sitting-room, and +gave her quiet reasons for not going out with him. The doctor declared +"he should be in despair--but that he had hope!" and having made Faith +confess that she would like to see his microscope, gently suggested the +claims of the next two evenings; saying that he must be in Quilipeak +for a day or two soon himself, and therefore was not impatient without +reason. Faith did not know how to get off, and gave the doctor to +understand that she might be disengaged the next night. Having which +comfort he went up to see Mr. Linden. Then followed Mr. Linden's tea, +with cresses and grapes which Dr. Harrison had brought himself. + +"Mother," said Faith, when the two ladies were seated at their own +tea-table,--"did Dr. Harrison dress Mr. Linden's arm again to-night?" + +"Yes child--and I guess it was good he did. I think Mr. Linden was +almost asleep when I went up." + +"Do you know how to do it, mother? if it was wanted when the doctor is +not here?" + +"I don't know--" said Mrs. Derrick thoughtfully,--"no, child, I _don't_ +know how--at least not so I'd like to try. Do you, Faith?" + +"No, mother--but could you learn?" + +"Why--I suppose I could, child," said her mother, as if she disliked to +admit even so much. "But I'd about as lieve have my own arm shot +off--I'm so dreadfully afraid of hurting people, Faith--and I always +was afraid of _him_. Why can't the doctor do it? he can come six times +a day if he's wanted--I guess he don't do much else." + +Faith said no more on the subject, but hurried through her tea and sat +down by the lamp in the sitting-room to read her letter. A minute or +two she sat thinking, deeply, with her cheek on her hand; then +dismissing everything else she opened the precious paper at last. + +It was another Italy letter, but took her a very different journey from +the last. A little graver perhaps than that, a little more longing in +the wish to use eyesight instead of pen and ink; and as if absence was +telling more and more upon the writer. Yet all this was rather in the +tone than the wording--_that_ was kept in hand. But it was midway in +some bright description, that the message to Faith broke forth. + +"Tell Miss Faith," she said, "that I would rather have seen her +roasting clams down at 'the shore,' than anything I have seen since I +heard of it,--which is none the less true, that I should have wanted to +stand both sides of the window at once. And tell her if you can (though +I don't believe even _you_ can, John Endy) how much I love her for +taking such care of one of my precious things. I feel as if all my love +was very powerless just now! However--you remember that comforting old +ballad-- + + 'Where there is no space + For the glow-worm to lye; + Where there is no space + For receipt of a fly; + Where the midge dares not venture, + Lest herself fast she lay; + If love come he will enter, + And soon find out his way!' + +So, Miss Faith, you may expect to see me appear some time in the shape +of a midge!--Endecott will tell you I am not much better than that now." + +So far Faith got in reading the letter, and it was a long while before +she got any further; that message to herself she went over again and +again. It was incomprehensible, it was like one of Mr. Linden's own +puzzles for that. It was so strange, and at the same time it was such a +beautiful thing, that Mr. Linden's sister should have heard of _her_ +and in such fashion as to make her wish to send a message! Faith's head +stooped lower and lower over the paper, from her mother and the lamp. +It was such a beautiful message too--the gracious and graceful wording +of it Faith felt in every syllable; and the lines of the old ballad +were some of the prettiest she had ever seen. But that Faith should +have _love_ sent her from Italy--and from that person in Italy of all +others!--that Mr. Linden's sister should wish to see _her_ and threaten +to do it in the shape of a midge!--and what ever _could_ Mr. Linden +have told her to excite the wish? And what of this lady's precious +things had Faith taken care of?--'such care' of! "Mother!"--Faith began +once by way of taking counsel, but thought better of it, and went on +pondering by herself. One thing was undoubted--this message in this +letter was a matter of great pleasure and honour! as Faith felt it in +the bottom of her heart; but in the midst of it all, she hardly knew +whence, came a little twinge of something like pain. She felt it--yes, +she felt it, even in the midst of the message; but if Faith herself +could not trace it out, of course it can be expected of nobody else. + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + + +Phil Davids, taking his morning walk through the pleasant roads of +Pattaquasset, engaged in his out-of-school amusements of hunting cats +and frightening children, was suddenly arrested in the midst of an +alarming face ('got up' for the benefit of Robbie Waters) by the +approach of Sam Stoutenburgh. In general this young gentleman let Phil +alone, 'severely,' but on the present occasion he stopped and laid hold +of his shoulder. + +"Phil Davids! I've a warrant against you." + +"Hands off, Sam! and let a man alone, will you! What do you mean by +that?" said Phil gruffly. + +"Yes--I'll let him alone--when I find him, if he's like you," said Sam +with great coolness and some little contempt. "But if you're tired of +your own face, Phil, why don't you make up a handsome one, while you're +about it? Keep out of his way, Robbie! can't you?" + +"Guess you don't know what folks says o' yourn! Do you?" said Phil, +wriggling his shoulder from under Sam's hand, "_I_ do!" + +"I guess I know as much as is good for me," replied the undaunted Sam. +"But that's none of your business just now. Mr. Linden wants to see +you, Phil--and it aint often anybody does that, so you'd better make +the most of the chance." With which pleasing sentiment, Sam released +Phil, and taking a sharp run after Robbie. Waters enticed him into a +long confidential conversation about his new Sunday school teacher. In +the midst of which Phil's voice came again. + +"'Twon't hurt you Sam--jest listen once. They say, Sam Stoutenburgh +would have been a Lady apple, if he hadn't grown to be such a Swar, and +all the while _he_ thinks he's a Seek-no-further. That's what folks +says. How d'ye like it?" + +"Firstrate!" said Sam--"glad I missed the Lady apples, anyhow,--and as +for 'tother, never thought myself one yet--don't like 'em well enough. +When you get through paying me compliments, Phil Davids, you'd better +go and see Mr. Linden." + +"Guess I will!" said Phil swaggering off,--"when I want to see him; and +that aint to-day, by a long jump." + +"He said you were to come--" Sam called after him. "If I wasn't a +Stoutenburgh sweeting, Phil Davids, I'd teach you to talk of him so! If +I only was!--" Sam added sotto voce, "wouldn't I pack myself up in a +basket! Robbie, what sort of flowers did Miss Faith have in her +bonnet?" At which interesting point the two turned a corner out of +Phil's sight. + +But Phil pursued his way; decently regardless of threats or +invitations, and having a wholesome opinion of his own that in holiday +time Mr. Linden had nothing to say to him. In no possible time had he +anything to say to Mr. Linden that he could help. So it happened, that +coming in soon after Mr. Linden had dismissed his breakfast, Faith +found Mr. Linden alone. She brought to his side a basket of very +fine-looking pears. + +"Mr. Davids has sent you these, Mr. Linden." + +"He is very kind," said Mr. Linden. "That is more than I asked for. He +hasn't sent Phil in the basket too, has he?--as the easiest way of +getting him here." + +Faith rather startled, and passing over that asked Mr. Linden how he +did. Which point, having learned all he wanted upon the other, Mr. +Linden was also ready for. Faith then leaving the basket by the couch +side, went to the fire and hearth, and put them more thoroughly to +rights than Cindy's delicacy of touch, or of eye, had enabled her to +do; and going on round the room, care fully performed the same service +for everything in it generally. This work however was suddenly stopped +in the midst, and coming to the head of the couch, rather behind Mr. +Linden, Faith spoke in a low and ill-assured tone. + +"Mr. Linden--will you let me be by this morning when Dr. Harrison +dresses your arm?" + +There was a moment's silence, and then raising himself up and turning a +little so as to see her, Mr. Linden answered, gravely though smiling, + +"No, Miss Faith!" + +She coloured very much and drew back. + +"I asked--" she said presently, speaking with a good deal of +difficulty,--"because he spoke of being away--and then there would be +no one to do it--and mother is afraid--" + +And there Faith stopped, more abashed than anybody had ever seen her in +her life before. He held out his hand, and took hers, and held it fast. + +"I know--" he said,--"you need not tell me. When is the doctor going +away?" + +"I don't know," she said almost under breath--"he said perhaps--or I +thought--I understood him to mean in a few days." + +"Miss Faith!"--and the tone was half expostulating, half scolding, half +caressing. "Come here and sit down by me," he said, gently drawing her +round to the low chair at his side, "I want to talk to you. Do you need +to be told why I said no?" + +She sat down, but sunk her head a little and put up her other hand to +shield the side of her face which was next him. The answer did not come +at once--when it did, it was a low spoken "no." Her hand was held +closer, but except that and the moved change of his voice, Mr. Linden +took no notice of her fear. + +"I would not let Pet do it--" he said gently, "if I could help it. My +child, do you know what a disagreeable business it is? I could trust +you for not fainting at the time, but I should ill like to hear of your +fainting afterwards. And then if you chanced to hurt me--which the +doctor often does--you would be unhappy for the rest of the day,--which +the doctor by no means is. That is all--I would a great deal rather +have your hands about me than his, but a thing that would give you pain +would give me very doubtful relief. I had rather go with my arm +undressed." + +He had gone on talking--partly to give her time to recover; but the +silent look that was bent upon that shielded face was a little anxious. + +She dropped the hand that shielded it presently, and shewed it flushed +and wistful, yet with a tiny bit of smile beginning to work at the +corners of the mouth. + +"Then Mr. Linden," she said almost in the same tone and without turning +her face,--"if you have no _other_ objection--please let me come!" + +"But that one is strong enough. You may send Cinderella up to take a +lesson." + +"You said that was all?" she repeated. + +"That is the only real objection--I would not raise even that in a case +of greater need. But I suppose unskilful hands could hardly do me much +mischief now. So if you will send Cinderella," he added with a smile, +"she may enlarge her world of ideas a little." + +"Mr. Linden,"--said Faith looking at him now fearlessly--"I am going to +come myself." + +"You are!" he said, looking at her--and then his eyes went from her to +the fire, and back again to her face. "Then if you faint away, Miss +Faith, and I jump up to take care of you (which I shall certainly do) I +may faint myself--at which stage of the proceedings Dr. Harrison will +have his hands full." + +"I shall not faint--before nor after," she said, shaking her head. + +"I should not like to count too much upon your unfeeling disposition," +said Mr. Linden, in whose face different currents of thought seemed to +meet and mingle. "And then you see, my senses may be guilty of as great +a breach of politeness as the warder in a German story I was reading +yesterday." + +"What was that?" + +"It fell out," said Mr. Linden, "that a lady of surpassing beauty +arrived at a certain castle; and next day, the lord of the castle +brought before her his warder, bound in chains for a great breach of +politeness; he having failed to give his lord notice of the lady's +approach! The warder thus defended himself: he had indeed seen the +lady, but his dazzled eyes mistook her for another sun! So," added Mr. +Linden smiling, "if my eyes should mistake you for a sunbeam or a maple +leaf, I might forget myself, and not keep my patience so perfectly as I +ought under the hands of such a chirurgeon." + +"What is going to try your patience, Mr. Linden?--I?"--said Faith, now +indubitably in a puzzle. + +"Do you really want to do this for me?" he said in a different tone, +looking at her with that same grave, kind look which she had seen +before. + +"I think I can--and I should like to do it, Mr. Linden, if you are +perfectly willing," Faith answered. + +"I am willing, since you wish it,--and now you must get the doctor's +leave--or rather I must get it for you; but in the mean time, Miss +Faith, we may go on with some of our studies, if you are at leisure." + +Faith went to get the books, but returned without them and with a +disturbed face. + +"Mr. Linden, one of the boys wishes to see you." + +"I suppose it never was heard that a boy came at the right time," said +Mr. Linden. "Well Miss Faith--I believe I must see him--will you write +another exercise for me? Here is your pen and paper--I will try not to +be hindered long." + +Faith mutely took the pen and paper, and went out with a divided mind, +for the boy whom she let in, Cindy being nowhere visible, was Phil +Davids. Phil had thought better of his determination, and wisely +judging that if Mr. Linden wanted to see him he probably would +accomplish the measure some time, concluded the shortest way was to see +him as smoothly as possible. So in he walked and made his bow, grumly +civil, but civil. + +Mr. Linden's opening remark, after he had given the boy his hand (which +even he liked to touch) was at least peculiar. + +"Phil--do you know what a smart boy you are?" + +And the answer was a strictly true, though blundering, "No, sir." + +"I don't know _how_ smart you could be, myself," said Mr. Linden, "but +I know you are very smart now. You always make me think of the man who +found a bag of jewels lying in the road and didn't know what they were." + +It occurred to Phil's mind that not to know jewels when they were seen +was a doubtful proof of smartness; so he answered with a somewhat +surly, "How, sir?" + +"This man," Mr. Linden went on, "instead of having his jewels set in +gold, to wear or to sell, went round the town flinging them at his +neighbour's windows--or his neighbour's cats,--as you do, Phil, with +your very bright powers of head and tongue. Why don't you make a man of +yourself--and use those powers for something worth while?" + +"You never see me doin' it, sir!" said Phil, answering the most +interesting part of Mr. Linden's address. + +"Don't I?" said Mr. Linden,--"I see and hear a good many things. But +nobody can get on in the world after such a prickly fashion,--why even +a porcupine smooths himself down before he tries to go ahead. If you +were to be a lawyer Phil, you'd fight your clients instead of helping +them fight,--and if you were a farmer, you'd be like the man who burnt +up three stacks of his hay because the fourth got wet." + +Phil reddened, though he couldn't help smiling, and was evidently +getting angry. + +"That 'ere farmer was a big fool!" he said. + +"Yes, we are agreed upon that point," said Mr. Linden,--"I daresay he +would have said so himself next day. Well Phil--this was not what I +wanted to talk to you about to-day--much as I like to see smart boys +make the most of themselves. I want to know exactly what it was that +you heard Reuben Taylor say about Miss Derrick." + +Phil's eyes opened unmistakeably. + +"I never heerd him say nothing about her!" he said boldly. + +"Then why did you say you did?" said Mr. Linden, with the cool face of +one who knows his ground. + +"I didn't!" said Phil. "I'm blessed if I did." + +"No you are not--" said Mr. Linden gravely,--"people are never blessed +who do not speak truth. And you have shut both doors by which such a +blessing might have come in this case, Phil." + +"Who said I ever said so, sir?" Phil asked confidently. + +"You told Dr. Harrison, for one," said Mr. Linden. + +"I never spoke a word to Dr. Harrison--" Phil began and checked +himself. "I never said anything but the truth, sir!" + +"What truth did you say to him?" said Mr. Linden. "I wish you would do +the same for me. The roughest truth, Phil, is pleasanter to ray ears +than the smoothest falsehood." + +"I said nothin' but what _was_ truth, sir," said Phil, perplexedly, as +if he felt caught in a snare. "I didn't think you meant _that_." + +"That is precisely what I meant." + +"'Twarn't nothing but the truth, sir." + +"Well--" said Mr. Linden,--"I never was afraid of the truth yet, and I +don't mean to begin now. You didn't say I had cut your ears off, did +you Phil?" + +"I didn't say nothin' about you, sir, good or indifferent." + +"That's something," said Mr. Linden with unmoved gravity. "What else +did you say?" + +"It was down to Neanticut, sir," said Phil--"I told Reuben Taylor as +how he'd druv her down, Joe Deacon said he had; and Reuben said Joe had +made a mistake. That's the hull of it, sir." + +"Who is _her?_" said Mr. Linden. + +"She--Miss Faith Derrick, sir." + +Phil was getting very uncomfortably red in the face. + +"Well why did you tell Miss Derrick that Reuben didn't drive her +down?--would not she have been likely to know." + +"I didn't, sir." + +"I thought not. What _did_ you tell her?" + +"She knows what I told her!"--said Phil, looking abstractedly at the +corner of the couch on which Mr. Linden lay.--"I don't know as I can +recollect. But that's what Reuben said, sir." + +"Well tell me as near as you can recollect--" said Mr. Linden. "And +also just the words you used to Reuben." + +Phil took time to reflect. + +"I don't want ter," he said. + +"No, I see you don't--but I want to hear them," said Mr. Linden very +quietly. "But tell me the truth _this_ time, Phil." + +"Folks has a right to speak," said Phil, stating a broad +proposition,--"but they hain't a right to tell all they say!" + +"Well?"--said Mr. Linden, waiving that. + +"'Twarn't nothin'!" said Phil--"and it 'll just make folks mad--and I +durstn't--" + +"Dare not repeat what you have dared to say? how is that, Phil? But my +forgiveness always meets confession half way, as you know," said Mr. +Linden. + +"Well," said Phil, "I jest told Reuben he'd druv her down, and Reuben +said Joe was mistaken. It was Joe said it first," + +"And what did you say before Dr. Harrison?" + +"I said what Reuben said,"--said Phil feeling poorly. + +"And what was that?"--Mr. Linden was as untireable as a minority juror. + +"I said Reuben said she warn't what Joe said," Phil got out at last in +a lowered tone. + +"And what was _that?_" + +"Well--" said Phil desperately--"Joe said she was--" + +Mr. Linden waited. So did Phil. + +"This is the house that Jack built," Mr. Linden remarked. "What did Joe +say she was?" + +The answer came in articulation pretty well smothered up. + +"Joe said she was Mr. Linden's sweetheart." + +"O!--" said Mr. Linden, with a tone Phil felt to the tips of his +ears,--"that was it! I really did not know, Phil, that you and Joe took +an interest in such matters. Have you had much experience?" + +Phil shuffled and looked exceedingly embarrassed, but words found none. +He had exhausted his stock, of more than words. + +"Well!" said Mr. Linden,--"you will find, Phil, that it is generally +safe to study arithmetic before you begin algebra. There's a little +mistake here. Reuben did not drive _anybody_ down to Neanticut--Mrs. +Derrick drove the whole way. That explains his words. As for yours, +Phil--I wish," said Mr. Linden, looking at him gravely, but gently too, +"I wish I knew something you would like very much to have. Can you tell +me?" + +If ever in his life Phil Davids mentally stared, (physically, too) he +did it now. 'Something he would like very much to have'? What could Mr. +Linden want to know _that_ for? In his confusion Phil didn't know +himself. To take in Mr. Linden, all over, was all he was competent to. + +"Well?" said his teacher with a smile--it was rather a faint one, for +he was tired, but very pleasant still. "What is there, Phil?--I am in +earnest." + +"I'm sorry I said it, anyhow!" burst at last from the boy's reluctant +lips. That seemed to be his ultimatum. He could see that his words gave +pleasure, though they were not directly answered. + +"I must send you away now," Mr. Linden said, taking his hand again. "I +am not strong enough to talk any more. But Phil--if you will learn to +speak the truth--so that at the end of six months you can truly say, 'I +hate every false way'--I will give you then what you like,--you shall +choose your own reward. I would give anything I have in the world if I +could make you fear to displease God by telling a falsehood, as much as +you fear to displease me by owning it!" + +It was as much as Phil could do, to take his teacher's hand, and that +was done more humbly than certainly any previous action of his life. +Speak he could not; but so far as Mr. Linden's influence and authority +were concerned _that_ boy was conquered. Whatever he became in after +times, and whatever his mates found him still,--and they were not +open-mouthed in praise,--for his teacher that boy was a different boy. + +On his way out of the house he chanced to pass Faith, and did so +without a sign of recognition, giving her about as wide a berth as if +she had been a ghost. At the door he met Dr. Harrison coming in; but +the doctor perhaps did not recognize him. Once clear, Phil ran for it. +And at the stair-foot the doctor found Faith. + +"Dr. Harrison," she said with grave simpleness, "if you will allow me, +I should like to see you dress Mr. Linden's arm. If you go to Quilipeak +there will be nobody to do it,--and I think I can learn. Mother is +afraid, and it would be very disagreeable to her." + +"And not to you?" said the doctor. + +"Not so disagreeable. I think I can do it," she answered, meeting his +look steadily. + +"You must not!" said he. "_You_ were not made for such things. Could do +it! I don't doubt you could do anything. But if I go, I will send Dr. +Limbre in my place. There is no need for _you_ to do disagreeable work. +Now it's pleasant to me!" + +"Dr. Limbre I shouldn't like to have come into the house," said Faith. +"And you know he can't leave his own house now--he is sick. I will go +up with you, if you please." + +Dr. Harrison could but follow her, as she tripped up the stairs before +him; but there is no reasonable doubt he would have sent her on some +other errand if he could. Faith tapped at the door, and they entered +the room together. + +"How do you do?" said Dr. Harrison rather gravely, approaching the +couch. + +Now the fact was, that those two previous interviews had been both long +and exciting; and the consequent prostration was greater than usual; so +though Mr. Linden did take down the hand which covered his eyes, and +did meet the doctor's look with his accustomed pleasantness, his words +were few. Indeed he had rather the air of one whose mind has chosen a +good opportunity to ride rampant over the prostrate flesh and blood, +and who has about given up all attempts to hold the bridle. Whether Dr. +Harrison perceived as much, or whether there might be some other +reason, his words were also few. He addressed himself seriously to work. + +"Will you permit me to introduce an apprentice?" he said, in a more +commonplace way than was usual for him, as he was removing Mr. Linden's +wrapper from the arm. Faith had come quietly up to the head of the +couch and was standing there. + +"Is not that the doctor's prerogative?" + +"Hum--" said the doctor doubtfully; but he did not explain himself +further. + +Faith had come close to the head of the couch, but stood a little back, +so that Mr. Linden could not see whether she looked like fainting or +not. There were no signs of that, for the lessening of colour in her +cheeks, which was decided, kept company with a very clear and intent +eye. One little caught breath he might hear, when the wounded arm was +first laid bare; but not another. The doctor heard it too, for he +looked up, but Faith was gravely and quietly busy with what she had +come there to see; giving it precisely the same simplicity of attention +that she brought to her physical geography or her French exercise; and +that was entire. She did not shrink; she rather pressed forward and +bent near, to acquaint herself perfectly with what was done; and once +or twice asked a question as to the reason or the use of something. Dr. +Harrison glanced up at her the first time--it might have been with +incipient impatience--or irony,--but if either, it disappeared. He +answered her questions straightforward and sensibly, giving her, and +with admirable precision, exactly the information she desired, and even +more than absolutely that. For everything else, the work went on in +silence. When the doctor however was standing at the table a moment, +preparing his lint or something else, and Faith had followed him there +and stood watching; he said to her over the table in a sotto voce +aside--but with a sharp glance-- + +"Was the information true, that we received the other night?--under the +lanterns?" + +"What a singular question!" said Mr. Linden from his couch. + +"Pourquoi?" said the doctor as simply as if the original words had been +addressed to Mr. Linden himself. "Well, it may be a singular question, +for it was singular information. Was it well-founded, Miss Derrick?" + +"No--at a venture," said Mr. Linden, with just the sort of air with +which a sick person puts in his word and assumes superior knowledge. + +The doctor looked at one and at the other; Mr. Linden's face told him +nothing, any more than his words; Faith, by this time, was covered with +confusion. That at least it might be visible to only one person, she +moved back to her former place. + +"Were you behind us?" said the doctor;--"or were you French enough to +come by invisibly?" + +"Is that the last new method?" said Mr. Linden. "You have been in Paris +since I was." + +"Never got so far as that though, I am sorry to say," said the doctor +coming back to the couch. "But after all, that was very vague +information--it didn't tell one much--only I have a personal interest +in the subject. But I am glad you spoke--the man that can tell the +dream should be able to give the interpretation. What did it mean, +Linden?" + +"Behold a man of an enquiring turn of mind!" said Mr. Linden with the +same half listless half amused air. "He asks for truth, and when that +tarries demands interpretation." + +"I don't know what sort of a man I behold!" said the doctor, moving his +eyes with a double expression for an instant from Mr. Linden's arm to +his face. + +"I should think you were a German student in pursuit of the 'Idea'!" +said Mr. Linden taking a quiet survey of the doctor's face. "Have you +completed the circle, or is there still hope the Idea may seize you?" + +"The idea seized me a good while ago," said the doctor, with a most +comical mock confessional look. + +"Well then," said Mr. Linden in a sort of confidential tone, "what is +your opinion upon the great German question--whether it is better to be +One and Somewhat, or to be Nought and All? + +"You see,"--said the doctor, standing back and suspending +operations,--"_everybody_ can't be One and Somewhat!" + +"Then you choose the comprehensive side--" said Mr. Linden. "That is +without doubt the most difficult,--the One and Somewhat is called +egotistical, but to be Nought and All!--one must be--what do you +suppose?" + +"A philanthropist, I should suppose!" the doctor answered, with a +change of expression _not_ agreeable. And returning to his work, for +awhile he behaved unusually like other people; not hurrying his work, +but doing it with a grave steady attention to that and nothing +else--answering Faith, and saying no more. Perhaps however he thought +silence might be carried too far; or else had an unsatisfied mood upon +him; for as he was finishing what he had to do, he looked up again to +Faith and remarked, + +"What do you think of this for our quiet town, Miss Derrick? Has Mr. +Linden any enemies in Pattaquasset--that you know?" + +It was merciless in the doctor; for through all this time she had been +in a state of confusion--as he knew--that made speech undesirable, +though she had spoken. And she didn't answer him now, except by a +quickly withdrawn glance. + +"Who do you suppose loves him well enough," pursued the doctor, "to +send a charge of duck shot into him like that?" + +A sudden little cry of pain, driven back before it was well begun, was +heard and but just heard, from Faith. The doctor looked up. + +"I was afraid this--Are you faint?" he said gently. + +"No sir,--" she answered; and she stood still as before, though the +overspread colour which had held its ground for a good while past, had +given way now and fluttered pain fully. But the doctor's words brought +Mr. Linden, for the first time since his accident--to a perfectly erect +position on the couch--with a total disregard of where his arm went, or +what became of its bandages. + +"What are you about!" + +"I declare, I don't know!" said Dr. Harrison, standing back. "I +_thought_ I was just disposing of you comfortably for the day--but I am +open to conviction!" + +The left hand let go its grasp of the couch--taken so suddenly, and for +which the wounded arm took swift vengeance; and Mr. Linden laid himself +down on the cushions again, the colour leaving his cheeks as fast as it +had come. + +"What's the matter, Linden?" said the doctor with rather a kind look of +concern. "You have hurt yourself." + +Faith left the room. + +"I fear I have disarranged some of your work." + +The doctor examined and set to rights. + +"I'll see how you do this evening. What ailed you to pitch into me like +that, Linden?" + +"I think the 'pitching in' came upon me," he answered pleasantly. + +"It seems so, indeed. I hope you won't try this kind of thing again. I +am sure you won't to-day." + +And so the doctor went. A quarter of an hour or a little more had gone +by, when the light knock came at Mr. Linden's door that he had +certainly learned to know by this time; and Faith came in, bearing a +cup of cocoa. The troubled look had not entirely left her face, nor the +changeful colour; but she was not thinking of herself. + +"I knew you were tired, Mr. Linden--Would you like this--or some +grapes--or wine--better?" + +The most prominent idea in Mr. Linden's mind just then, was that he had +already had what he did not like; but that had no place in the look +which answered her, as he raised himself a little (and but a little) to +take the cup from her hand. + +"Pet would thank you better than I can now, Miss Faith." + +She stood looking down at him, with a little sorrowing touch about the +lines of her mouth. + +"Do you know how much better two cups of cocoa are than one?" said Mr. +Linden. + +"I don't know how you can have two at once, Mr. Linden." + +"Then I will bestow one upon you--and wait while you get it." + +"I am well--" she said, looking amused through her gravity, and shaking +her head. "And besides, I couldn't take it, Mr. Linden." And to put an +end to that subject, Faith had recourse to the never failing wood fire; +and from thence went round the room finishing what she had failed to do +in the morning; coming back at the point of time to take Mr. Linden's +cup. He looked at her a little as he gave it back. + +"You are too tired to go over all those lessons to-day--which do you +like best? will you bring it?" + +"I am not tired at all," she said with some flitting colour,--"but +_you_ are, Mr. Linden. Won't you rest--sleep--till after dinner--and +then, if you like, let me come?" + +"I will let you come then--and stay now," he said smiling. + +"Let me stay and be silent then--or do something that will not tire +you. Please, Mr. Linden!" + +"Your line of action lies all within that last bound," he said gently. +"But you may read French if you will--or write it and let me look over +you,--or another geographical chapter. Neither need make me talk much." + +The hint about looking over her writing startled Faith amazingly, but +perhaps for that very reason she took it as the delicate expression of +a wish. That would be a trial, but then too it would call for the least +exertion on the part of her teacher. Faith was brave, if she was +fearful, and too really humble to have false shame; and after an +instant's doubt and hesitation, she said, though she felt it to her +fingers' ends, + +"My exercise is all ready--it only wants to be copied--but how could +you look over me, Mr. Linden?" + +"Could you do such an inconvenient thing as to use that small atlas for +a table? and bring it here by me--I am not quite fit to sit up just +now." + +Faith said no more words, but went for her exercise and sat down to +write it, as desired, under an observing and she knew a critical eye. +It was well her business engrossed her very completely; for she was in +an extremely puzzled and disturbed state of mind. Dr. Harrison's words +about the occasion of Mr. Linden's accident, carelessly run on, had at +last unwittingly given her the clue her own innocent spirit might have +waited long for; and grief and pain would have almost overcome her, but +for a conflicting feeling of another kind raised by the preceding +colloquy between the two gentlemen. Faith was in a state of profound +uncertainty, whether Mr. Linden's words had meant anything or nothing. +They were spoken so that they might have meant nothing--but then Phil +Davids had just been with him--what for?--and whatever Mr. Linden's +words might have meant, Faith's knowledge of him made her instinctively +know, through all the talk, that they had been spoken for the sake of +warding off something disagreeable from _her_--not for himself. She +tried as far as she could to dismiss the question from her +thoughts--she could not decide it--and to go on her modest way just as +if it had not been raised; and she did; but for all that her face was a +study as she sat there writing. For amid all her abstraction in her +work, the thought of the _possibility_ that Mr. Linden might have known +what he was talking about, would send a tingling flush up into her +cheeks; and sometimes again the thoughts of pain that had been at work +would bring upon her lip almost one of those sorrowful curves which are +so lovely and so pure on the lip of a little child--and rarely seen +except there. All this was only by the way; it did not hinder the most +careful attention to what she was about, nor the steadiest working of +her quite unsteady fingers, which she knew were very likely to move +_not_ according to rule. + +For a little while she was suffered to go on without interruption, +other than an occasional word about the French part of her exercise; +but presently Mr. Linden's hand began to come now and then with a +modifying touch upon her pen and fingers. At first this was done with a +gentle "forgive me!" or, "if you please, Miss Faith,"--after that +without words, though the manner always expressed them; and once or +twice, towards the very end of the lesson, he told her that such a +letter was too German--or too sophisticated; and shewed her a more +Saxon way. Which admonitions he helped her, as well as he could, to +bear, by a quietness which was really as kind, as it seemed oblivious +of all that had disturbed or could disturb her. And the words of praise +and encouragement were spoken with their usual pleasure-taking and +pleasure-giving effect. All this after a time effectually distracted +Faith from all other thoughts whatever. When it was done, she sat a +moment looking down at the paper, then looked up and gave him a very +frank and humble "Thank you, Mr. Linden!" from face and lips both. + +If Faith liked approbation--that clover-honey to a woman's taste, so +far beyond the sickly sweets of flattery and admiration--she might have +been satisfied with the grave look of Mr. Linden's eyes at her then. + +"You are a brave little child!" he said. "I wish I could do something +to give you a great deal of pleasure!" + +"Pleasure!"--said Faith, and what was very rare with her, not only her +face flushed but her eyes, so that she turned them away,--"why it is +all pleasure to me, Mr. Linden!"--'Such pleasure as I never had +before,'--she was near saying, but she did not say. + +"Well I must not let you tire yourself," he said with a smile, "for +that would not be pleasant to me. Have you been out to-day?" + +"No," said Faith, thinking of her brown moreen. + +"Nor yesterday--that will not do, Miss Faith. I am afraid I must give +you up to the open air for a good part of this afternoon." + +"What shall I do there?" said Faith smiling. + +"Let the wind take you a walk--I wish I could be of the party. But the +wind is good company, Miss Faith, and talks better than many +people,--and the walk you want." + +"So I want to finish my wood-box," said Faith, looking at the corner of +the fireplace. "And I should think you would be tired of seeing the +wood lie there, Mr. Linden. I am. I have got to go out this evening +too--" she said with a little hesitation,--"to see that microscope." + +Mr. Linden was silent a moment. + +"The microscope does make some difference," he said,--"as for the +wood-box, Miss Faith, I don't think I can permit it to have any voice +in the matter,--you may leave it for me to finish. But if you are going +up there this evening--there are two or three things I should like to +talk to you about first." + +"Then shall I come by and by?" she said. "I must do something else +before dinner." + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + + +"Well child!" said Mrs. Derrick as they took their seats at the +dinner-table, "what _have_ you been about all day? I've just spent the +morning looking over those apples, so I've had no chance to look you +up. How's Mr. Linden? does the doctor think he's getting better?" + +"He is, I hope, mother; the doctor didn't say anything about it." And a +little shudder ran over Faith's shoulders, which she was glad her +mother could make nothing of if she saw. "I have been as busy as you +have, mother--so I couldn't look _you_ up--nor my wood-box either." + +"Learning all the world!" said her mother smiling, though there was a +little touch of regretfulness not quite kept down. "I think I'd rather +sit and look at you, child, than eat my dinner. What are you going to +do this after noon?" + +"I've got a little ironing to do after dinner, mother, and something to +make for tea--and Mr. Linden wants to see me for something. I'll get +ready for Judge Harrison's, and then after I am through up stairs I'll +come down and see to you and my box together. I wish you were going +with me, mother." + +And Faith leaned her head on her hand. + +"Don't you want to go, pretty child?" said Mrs. Derrick fondly. + +"No, mother--but I couldn't help it. I found I should have to go sooner +or later." + +"I'd go with you in a minute," said her mother, "if it wasn't for Mr. +Linden. I don't care a pin whether they want me or not, Faith, if _you_ +do. And I dare say some of the boys will be here"--Mrs. Derrick looked +perplexed, as at the feeling of some unknown possibility. "Shall I, +pretty child?" she said with an anxious face,--"what are you thinking +of, child?" + +Faith came behind her and put both arms round her and kissed first one +side of her face and then the other. + +"Mother!" she said with those silvery tones,--"I don't want anything! I +suppose I shall like to see the microscope--but I'd rather stay at home +and learn my lessons. Don't look _so!_"--Which with another kiss upon +her lips, finished off Mrs. Derrick's anxiety. + +The ironing and the 'something for tea' Faith despatched with extra +diligence and speed, and then dressed herself for the evening. It was +not much extra dressing; only a dark stuff dress a little finer than +ordinary; the white ruffle round the neck and wrists was the same. And +then, giving a few minutes to the seeking of some added help to +quietness, for Faith's mind had been strangely disturbed, she went +again to Mr. Linden's room. A gentle vision she was, if ever one was +seen, when she entered it. + +"You say I mustn't thank you, Mr. Linden," she said giving him back his +sister's letter;--"but--will you thank her for me?" + +"I don't think she deserves many thanks," he said with a smile, "but I +will tell her." + +The course of study that afternoon was peculiar, and eminently a +_talk_. Mr. Linden called for none of the usual books at first, but +began by giving Faith a very particular account of the whole process of +circulation; thence diverging right and left, in the most erratic +manner as it seemed to her,--passing from the bright crystal points in +chymistry to the blue mould on a piece of bread, and then explaining to +her the peculiar mechanism of a fly's eye. Two or three times he sent +her to the cupboard for some book to shew her an illustration of the +subject, but if there was any connecting link that she could see +between one and another, it was simply the wonderful minute perfection +of the world. And she needed none--for the different things were +touched upon so clearly and yet with such a happy absence of needless +details, that they stood forth in full relief, and set off each other. +The daylight was already failing, and the red firelight was playing +hide and seek with the shadows in Mr. Linden's room, before he gave her +a chance to think what time it was. When she saw it, Faith started up. + +"I told mother I would come and see her before I went!"--she said, +drawing a long breath like a person in an atmosphere he can't get +enough of. Then with a little change of tone, after standing a minute +looking at the fire, she went on.--"All _I_ can do, is to drive the +nails into that wood-box--but I'll do it before to-morrow." She held +out her hand as she spoke. + +"No you must not," Mr. Linden said, as he took the hand. "To-night you +will be out, and you must not give me a late breakfast, Miss +Faith!--therefore you must go to bed as soon as you come home, and +leave the box to _me_." + +Faith ran away and did not go to her hammering just then. She brought a +low bench to her mother's feet, sat down there; and taking Mrs. +Derrick's hands from whatever they were about, wrapped both arms round +herself, laying her head on her mother's lap. + +"Mother," she said caressingly,--"I couldn't come down before. I was so +busy and so interested, I didn't in the least know what time it was; +and I hadn't a chance to think." + +"I'm sure I'm glad, pretty child," said her mother, bending down to +kiss her. "I think sometimes you think too much. But you look just like +a baby, for all that. I'm sure I shall always love Mr. Linden for +pleasing you so much," said Mrs. Derrick stroking Faith's hair, "even +though he does please himself too." + +Faith secured that hand again and held them both wrapped round her; but +further words for a moment spoke not. + +"I shall come home as early as I can," she said;--"mother, time enough +to do everything for breakfast." + +"You sha'n't do a thing, child," said her mother. "You may come home as +early as you like, but I'm going to keep you out of the works. I feel +so grand when you're up stairs studying--you can't think! You wouldn't +know me, Faith." + +Faith laughed, the laugh that was music to Mrs. Derrick's ears, and +indeed would have been to any, and held the hands closer. + +"I feel a little grand too,"--she said,--"sometimes in a way--" + +This did not seem to be one of the times, or else feeling grand had a +soporific effect; for Faith's eyelids presently drooped, and when Dr. +Harrison came to the house and for some time before, she was fast +asleep on her mother's lap. + +"Psyche!"--exclaimed Dr. Harrison as he discerned by the firelight the +state of the case. Mrs. Derrick gave him a little reproving glance for +speaking so loud, but other reply made none, save a low-spoken polite +offer of a chair. + +"Thank you--I am going up to see Mr. Linden. Miss Derrick was so good +as to promise she would go with me to see my sister this evening. In +these circumstances,"--said Dr. Harrison in his softest voice--"do you +think it would be presumption to wake her up?" + +"Well go up, then," said Mrs. Derrick, "and I'll wake her up before you +come down." + +Which arrangement took effect; and in a very few minutes thereafter, +Dr. Harrison's horse making much better speed than old Crab could do +now, Faith was deposited safely at Judge Harrison's door. There she was +received with open arms and great exultation by Miss Sophy and with +great cordiality and pleasure by the Judge; and with a certain more +uncertain amount of both by Mrs. Somers, whom Faith found there, the +only addition to the family party; while the doctor stood complacently +on the rug, in silence surveying everybody, like a man who has gained +his point. + +"Well Julius," said Mrs. Somers, "how's Mr. Linden to-night? did you +see him?" + +"Yes ma'am--I saw him." + +"Well how is he?" repeated Mrs. Somers. + +"He is--very happily situated," said the doctor. "I should like to be +in his place." + +"What do you go there twice a day for? Do you think him worse? You +began with going once," said Mrs. Somers. + +"Always begin gently," said Dr. Harrison. "You get on faster." + +"How soon do you expect to take up your abode there altogether, at that +rate?" + +"At what rate, aunt Ellen? You are too fast for me." + +"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Somers, "do you suppose I want to be told what +you go there for?--what I _do_ want to know, is whether he's like to +get well, and how soon." + +"He will be conquering Pattaquasset in a few weeks," said the doctor. + +"I wonder whether he'll conquer Phil Davids," said Mrs. Somers. "I +should like to see that done. Julius, did you ever find out anything +about the man that fired the shot?" + +"Really, aunt Ellen, I am not a detective"--said the doctor carelessly, +looking at Faith, who kept as quiet as a dormouse. "If it had been my +business I suppose I should have found out." + +"I think I heard you opine that Mr. Linden knew"--said Mrs. Somers. +"And I think somebody ought to find out--unless you want the thing done +over again. Don't you think so, Judge Harrison?" + +"Well my dear," said the Judge, "I understand Mr. Linden to have been +actuated by a very benevolent motive--I understand his feelings. He +wouldn't run the risk of accusing a man unjustly--I can't blame him. +It's right, I think, though it's provoking. What do you think, Miss +Faith?" + +Faith lifted her eyes, but perhaps the doctor saw in her changing cheek +some token of the pain he had stirred in the morning. He prevented her +reply. + +"Ladies don't think about these things, my dear sir!--Aunt Ellen is so +sharp she gets ahead of her sex. Let me have the honour of suggesting a +pleasanter subject of meditation. I have seen to-night, aunt Ellen, the +most exquisite and valuable jewelry I have ever seen in my life!" + +"Here in Pattaquasset!" said his sister. + +"In Pattaquasset--or perhaps in the world." + +"Don't excite yourself, Sophy," said Mrs. Somers,--"let's hear what +they were, first." + +Faith, like everybody else, looked for the doctor's answer, though she +hardly knew what she was looking at. + +"A lady, aunt Ellen," the doctor went on, glancing at her,--"had made a +necklace of her mother's arms,--and a cross, more precious than +diamonds, of her mother's hands; and clasping this cross to her breast, +adorned with this most exquisite and rare adornment, had--gone to +sleep!" + +"And for once," said Mrs. Somers, "you preferred the wearer to the +jewels and--went into a trance! I can imagine you!" + +"I? not I!"--said the doctor--"I went up stairs. But you have no idea +of the effect." + +Faith had been experiencing some of the scattering fire of society, +which hits no one knows where and no one knows when. First the name of +Phil Davids had ploughed up the ground at her right; then the question +about the man who had fired the shot had ploughed up the ground at her +left; and shaken first by one and then by the other she had welcomed +the doctor's change of subject and now was smiling as pleased as +anybody. + +"I didn't suppose the trance was a long one," said Mrs. Somers, with a +little raising of her eyebrows. "Faith, my dear, what have you done to +that little Seacomb child? I can't get over my astonishment at his +transformation." + +"I am afraid there isn't much transformation yet," Faith said. "He +listens very quietly and behaves well in school--but I don't know how +he is at home." + +"You are not a school teacher _too?_" said the doctor. + +"It isn't a bad trade," said Faith, though her cheeks had answered for +her another way. + +"Not a bad trade--certainly--but one may have too many trades. Aunt +Ellen--I had the honour--do you believe it? of giving Miss Derrick +lessons this morning." + +"I think she was very good to permit it," said Mrs. Somers composedly. + +"She was very good"--said the doctor demurely. "I am afraid that is her +character generally!" + +He was called off by his father, and Miss Harrison seized Faith and +planted her between herself and Mrs. Somers on the sofa. + +"Don't mind his nonsense, Faith! Julius never can talk like anybody +else. Why haven't you been here this age?" + +"I've been busy, Sophy." + +"Why wouldn't you go to ride with us? Julius wouldn't go after what you +said. Why wouldn't you?" + +"It was Sunday, Sophy." + +"Well--what if it was?" + +"Sunday isn't my day--I can't use it for my own work." + +"But taking a little ride isn't work?" + +Faith hesitated. + +"Isn't it work to the horses, Sophy? And if it is only pleasure--Sunday +has its own pleasures, dear Sophy,--I can't have both." + +"Why can't you?" + +"Because,--if I take these, God will not give me those," Faith said +very gravely. + +"But Faith!"--said Miss Harrison looking disturbed,--"you didn't use to +be so religious?" + +Faith's face flushed a little and was touchingly humble as she said, +"No--I didn't." + +"What's changed you so?" + +"It isn't a bad change, dear Sophy!" + +"I don't believe anything's bad about you," said Miss Harrison kissing +her,--"but don't change too far, dear; don't forget your old friends." + +"I want them to change too," said Faith looking at her winningly. + +"That's right Faith, stand by your colours!" said Mrs. Somers, with a +tone and manner that came quite from the other side of her character. +"Sophy--your mother wouldn't know her child, to hear you ask such +questions." + +Miss Harrison looked troubled, and left the room. Dr. Harrison +immediately took her place, and almost as immediately tea came in. + +That is to say, tea and chocolate were handed round, together with a +sufficient abundance and variety of delicate substantials to suit the +air and the style of a country town. Judge Harrison's was the only +house in Pattaquasset where tea was served in this way,--except perhaps +the De Staff's; though there was this difference to be observed,--the +De Staffs never had tea carried round unless when they had company; at +the Harrisons' it was never carried round unless they were alone. + +Dr. Harrison attended politely to his aunt, but he was eyes and hands +for Faith; finding at the same time very agreeable occupation for her +ears. If people could be content with being agreeable! But in the midst +of cold tongue and chocolate the doctor broke out again. + +"After all," said he,--"what about that piece of curious information, +Miss Derrick? You know I was balked this morning and led a Will o' the +wisp chase after the Idea! Is Mr. Linden in the habit of spoiling +people's fun in that manner?" + +Faith said simply she did not know. She did not, but in private she +thought it likely enough. + +"Well, about the question," said the doctor helping her to something at +the same time,--"what was the truth of it, Miss Derrick? You see I am +interested. Was our little informant correct?" + +Now Faith had no mind, even in the dark, or about anything, to set her +'yes' against Mr. Linden's 'no.' Besides, she knew that the doctor had +heard no names, and what ever might be the extent of Mr. Linden's +knowledge, _he_ knew nothing. And she was very willing to take the +shelter of the shield which had been thrown round her. The deep, deep +dye of her cheeks she could not help; but she answered with tolerable +quietness, behind that shield, + +"I hoped you had got enough of the subject this morning." + +The doctor had enough of it now! He changed his ground with all speed, +and for the rest of the evening Dr. Harrison shewed himself at his best. + +So soon as the removal of tea things gave him a clear field, he brought +out his microscope; and from that instant Faith almost forgot and +forgave him everything. She forgot everything present--the Judge, +Sophy, and Mrs. Somers; and came to the table so soon as the bright +brass of the little machine caught her eye. The machine alone was a +wonder and beauty; it seemed to Faith like an elegant little brass gun +mounted on the most complicate and exquisite of gun carriages--with its +multiplication of wheels and screws and pins, by which its adjustment +might be regulated to a hair; with its beautiful workmanship and high +finish, and its most marvellous and admirable purpose and adaptation. +Dr. Harrison had never adjusted his microscope with more satisfaction, +perhaps, than with those childish womanly eyes looking on; and neither +he nor _many_ other people ever performed better the subsequent office +of exhibiting it. He troubled Faith now with nothing; his very manner +was changed; and with kindness and sense most delicate, most +thoughtful, most graceful always, gave her all he could give her. + +He was a trifle surprised to find that the amount of that was not more. +There was no lack indeed; he could talk and she could listen +indefinitely--and did;--nevertheless he found some of his channels of +communication stopped off. At the first thing he shewed her, Faith +looked for an instant and then withdrawing her eye from the microscope +and facing him with cheeks absolutely paled with excitement and +feeling, exclaimed rapturously, + +"Oh!--are those the chalk shells?" + +The doctor hadn't counted upon her knowing anything of chalk shells + +"Aunt Ellen--" said he, as he looked to shift or adjust something--"do +you think Miss Derrick has ever lived upon anything worse than roses?" + +"Upon something stronger, I fancy," said Mrs. Somers, a little +surprised in her turn, but well pleased too, for Faith had come nearer +her heart that evening than ever before, and the voyage of discovery +was pleasant. + +"I should certainly think I was in Persia!" said the doctor,--"only the +bulbul knows nothing of scientific discoveries, I fancy." + +But Faith was in no danger of hearing, or caring, if she had +understood; she had gone back to the chalk shells, and back still +further, from them, into the world of those perfections which God had +made _for himself_. A new world, now for the first time actually seen +by her, and for a moment she almost lost her standing in this. Mrs. +Somers watched her, smiling and curious. + +She drew back presently with a long breath, to give the other ladies a +chance; but Miss Harrison had looked all she cared to look, and Mrs. +Somers was not new to the thing. They took a view occasionally, one for +form, the other for real interest; but for the most part Faith found +the exhibition was for her and she and the doctor might have it all +their own way. A long way they made of it; for the doctor found a good +deal of talking to do, and Faith was most ready to hear. He talked well +and gave her a great deal of what she liked, with a renewal every now +and then of his first surprise; for in the midst of some elaborate +explanation he was launching into for her benefit, most innocently and +simply Faith would bring him up with a gentle "Yes, I know,"--not +spoken with the faintest arrogance of knowledge, but merely to prevent +him going into needless detail; and herself too rapt in the delight of +the subject that occupied her to have any heed of the effect of her +words. + +"I have kept the best for the last," said the doctor, when this +exhibition had lasted a much longer time than Faith was aware of;--"I +thought you would like to see the circulation;--and I have sent all +over town for a frog--found one at last, by great happiness." + +"All over town!" said Mrs. Somers,--"do try out of town next time, and +save yourself trouble." + +"Have you got to kill the frog, Julius?" said Miss Harrison with a +disturbed face. + +"I hope not!" said the doctor gravely. "That would rather interfere +with our purposes than otherwise, Sophy.--Aunt Ellen, I never learned +the real extent of 'town' yet--when I was a boy it seemed to me to have +no limits;--and now it seems to me to have no centre. Tell James to +bring in that frog, Sophy." + +Miss Harrison retreated from the frog; but the doctor assured Faith +that he was in very tolerable circumstances, shut up in a little bag; +and that he was only going to be requested to exhibit a small portion +of the skin of his toe, and to hold himself still for that purpose; +which benevolent action the doctor would help him to perform by putting +him in a slight degree of confinement. The holding still was however +apparently beyond the frog's benevolent powers, and it was some little +time before the doctor could persuade him to it. Then Faith saw what +she had never seen nor fully imagined before. + +"O Sophy!--O Mrs. Somers!"--she exclaimed,--"look at this!" + +She stood back with a face of delighted wonder Miss Harrison looked an +instant. + +"It is curious--" she said. "What are those little things, Julius?" + +"You have heard of the 'circulating medium,'" said the doctor. "That is +it." + +Faith evidently had never heard of the 'medium' referred to. Turning to +her, the doctor began a clear full account of the philosophy of what +she saw going on in the frog's foot. But there she met him again. + +"Yes, I know, Dr. Harrison,"--she said with the simple tone of perfect +intelligence. The doctor bit his lip, while Faith stooped over the +microscope and read, and read, what was to be seen there. + +"Faith," whispered Sophy, "it's cruel of me--but I am afraid your +mother will be anxious, and Julius will never let you know--" + +"What time is it?" said Faith starting up. + +"About--half an hour--after eight--" said the doctor. + +"After _ten_, Faith." + +Not another look did Faith give, but for her bonnet, and went home as +fast as the doctor would walk with her. + +Whether Mrs. Derrick was anxious or no, she did not say, but glad she +certainly was to see Faith back. + +"Well child," she said, undoing the wrappers from Faith's head and +neck, "I hope you've had a grand time?" + +"Yes mother, very--only I didn't mean to stay so late. I meant to be +home in good time. I have seen everything, mother!" + +"Everything!" said her mother,--"I guess at that rate I might say I'd +been everywhere." + +"Where have you been, mother? anywhere?" + +"I've been out to tea!" said her mother, with the manner of one who has +a remarkable secret on hand. + +"You have! Where, mother?" + +"Guess"--said Mrs. Derrick smiling at her. "I went up stairs to tea, +Faith!--what do you think of that? What'll you expect to hear of my +doing next?" + +"Oh mother!" said Faith laughing,--"I am glad! That was the best thing +you could have done." + +"It wasn't my doing, though," said Mrs. Derrick. "But when I went up +with Mr. Linden's tea, he asked me if you had gone, and I said yes, and +he said since there was nobody better worth seeing down stairs he +wished I'd come and drink tea with him. So I went, child, and it was +real pleasant too. And I don't know how it was, but I staid there all +the evening,--only I wouldn't let him talk to me, and he just went to +sleep as if I hadn't been there. I think he was very tired, Faith. So +then I felt very comfortable," added Mrs. Derrick smiling, "and I sat +there and watched him till Reuben came a little while ago." + +"Was he tired!" said Faith, the light in her face changing. "He had +been talking to me all the afternoon!--Mother, half the pleasure I had +to-night he gave me, for he was all the afternoon preparing me for it." +She stood looking at the fire reproachfully. + +"Why child," said her mother, "I suppose his arm pains him a good +deal--and that tires one, you know. He didn't talk to you a bit more +than he wanted to, I'll warrant. Why he even talked to _me_ all +tea-time!" said Mrs. Derrick, as if she felt quite proud in consequence. + +"Well mother, we must go to bed _now_, for I must be up very early to +finish that box." + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + + +Very early it was, when Faith's hammer was at work again on the brown +moreen, and short interruption did she give herself from anything that +could be spared, till the box was done. It suited her well when it was +done. The cover was stuffed, old-fashioned brown binding was lapped +over the edges and seams, and fastened off with rows of brass-headed +nails; which made it altogether an odd, handsome, antiquated-looking +piece of furniture. With this, when her morning work was done and her +exercise prepared, Faith went up to Mr. Linden's room; to see it +brought in and placed properly. + +"I shall have to put a stop to this state of things!" he said,--"that +blue ribband will work me mischief yet. Miss Faith, how can you take +advantage of my disabled condition?" + +"Are you better this morning, Mr. Linden?" + +"The time has not quite come yet for me to be much better. But Miss +Faith, if I had known that you _would_ wake yourself up early this +morning, what do you think I should have done?" + +"I can't think, Mr. Linden," she said looking merry. + +"I should have invited you and Mrs Derrick up here to breakfast!--which +I only did not do, because I could not take the extra trouble upon +myself, and because I knew you ought to sleep, till this time." + +Faith shook her head a little, perhaps sorry to have missed the +breakfast; then went off and brushed away the dust and chips left round +the wood-box. Then came and sat down. + +"I saw almost everything, last night, Mr. Linden!" + +"Well before you go off to last night--will you come to-morrow morning? +Now what did you see?" + +The bright smile and flush and sparkle answered the invitation; and +perhaps Faith thought no other answer was needed; for she gave no other. + +"I know now," she said after an instant, "what you were doing all +yesterday afternoon, Mr. Linden!" + +"I know what you were, Miss Faith." + +She smiled innocently and went on, + +"All that just fitted me, as you meant it should, to take the good of +the evening--and I had a great deal," she said gravely. "I saw almost +everything you spoke of--and other things. I saw the chalk shells, Mr. +Linden!--and the circulation in a frog's foot; and different prepared +pieces of skin; and the moth's plumage! and the silver scale-armour of +the _Lepisma_, as Dr. Harrison called it; and more." + +"And with very great delight--as I knew you would. I am very glad!" + +"Yes," said Faith--"I know a little better now how to understand some +things you said the other day. I am very glad I went--only for one +thing.--" + +"What was that?" + +"Dr. Harrison asked such a strange thing of me as we were walking +home--at least it seems to me strange." + +"May my judgment be brought to bear upon it?" Mr. Linden said after a +moment's silence. + +"Yes indeed," said Faith; "that was what I was going to ask. He wants +me to go with him to see a woman, who is dying, he says, and +miserable,--and he wants me to talk to her. He says he does not know +how." And half modestly, half timidly, she added, "Is not that going +out of my way?" + +A quick, peculiar smile on Mr. Linden's face, was succeeded by a very +deep gravity,--once or twice the lips parted, impulsively--then took +their former firm set; and shading his eyes with his hand he looked +into the fire in profound silence. + +Very soberly, but in as absolute repose of face, Faith now and then +looked at him, and meanwhile waited for his thoughts to come to an end. + +"Dr. Harrison said," she remarked after a little while, "that you once +told him he had but half learned his profession." + +"What did you say, Miss Faith? I mean, not to that, but to the +question?" + +"I didn't know what to say!--I didn't want to go at all--I don't know +whether that was wrong or right; but at last I said I would go. Do you +think I was right, Mr. Linden?" + +"Did you promise to go _with him?_" + +"I didn't know any other way to go," said Faith. "I don't know where +the woman lives, and he said I couldn't find it; and old Crab has a +lame foot. Dr. Harrison asked me to go with him. I don't think I should +have minded going alone." + +"Neither should I mind having you," said Mr. Linden, with a look more +doubtful and anxious than Faith had often seen him wear, though it was +not bent upon her. + +"Do you think I said wrong then, Mr. Linden? I did not like to go--but +I thought perhaps I ought." + +"I don't think _you_ did wrong," was the somewhat definite answer. "I +wish I had been alongside of you when the request was made." + +A wish which he had not been the first to know. Faith was silent. + +"You made a fair promise?" he said--"and feel bound by it?" + +"I said I would go,"--she said looking at him with her fair, grave +face. "If you thought it was wrong, or that I was putting myself out of +my way, I would not, Mr. Linden. He asked if he might come for me at +two o'clock, and I said yes." + +"Miss Faith--you must not make such a promise again!" + +She looked at him enquiringly, very soberly, and then her eyes went to +the fire and mused there. Mr. Linden was looking at her then, though +with eyes still shielded. Once indeed the hand came with a soft touch +upon her hair, drawing it back where it had fallen a little; but the +motion was quickly checked. She started, looked round with a little +frank smile and colour, and instantly went back to her musing. + +"I'm afraid I must let you go--" Mr. Linden said presently, smiling a +little too, as if it were no use to be grave any longer. "I'm afraid I +have no right to hinder you. If I had, I would. Some other time I will +tell you part of the wherefore, but the less I say to you before you +go, the better. About that,--" he added in his usual manner,--"I think +we might write another exercise." + +She started up, but paused. + +"Mr. Linden,"--she said timidly, "Dr. Harrison said he would not be +here this morning. Would you like to have me first--it would be only +pleasure to me, if you are not afraid,--do what he does for you?" + +He answered at first rather quick, as if he knew what sort of pleasure +it was. + +"O no!--I can wait,--it cannot signify very much." And then with as +quick a recognition of the real pleasure it would be, after all, Mr. +Linden compounded matters. + +"I am afraid. Miss Faith!--I am naturally timid." + +"What does that mean?" said she coming before him and looking with an +inquisitive smile. "I don't know, Mr. Linden!" + +"Do you expect me to explain such a humiliating confession?" + +"No, certainly.--I thought, perhaps, you wouldn't keep to it, after +all." + +"I am a little afraid for you. What do you suppose I shall do this +afternoon while you are gone?" + +"I don't know--" she said, looking a little wistfully. + +"I shall lie here and study that wood-box. You see I carry out my +principles, Miss Faith--I have not thanked you for it." + +"I don't think you'll study it very long," said Faith,--"there isn't +much in it." + +"Somebody has said," replied Mr. Linden, "that 'in every subject there +is inexhaustible meaning,--the eye sees in it what the eye brings means +of seeing.' You must not limit my power of eyesight." + +"If you wouldn't limit my power of something else?"--she said with +gentle persistency. + +He looked up at her. + +"I will not, Miss Faith--then will you please perform your kind office +at once? It will be a great comfort to me, and I shall be the better +able to do something for you afterwards." And the manner almost made +Faith feel as if the proposition had come from her at first. + +She went about it, not this first time without some trembling of heart, +but with also a spirit that rose above and quite kept down that. She +knew exactly and intelligently what was to be done; it was only the +hands that were unwonted, and therefore she feared unskilful. But there +are things that some women have by nature, and a skilful hand is one of +them; and it was Faith's. Her womanly love and care were enough for all +the rest; she made no mistakes, nor delays; and her soft fingers +inflicted no pain that it was in the power of fingers to spare. A +little longer than the doctor she was perhaps about it; not much, and +not more awkward; and that is saying enough. + +So soon as that was done, Faith went for her exercise, and sat down as +yesterday to write it. + +He too went on with the exercise; but watching her, lest relief might +be wanted in another quarter. There was nothing of that, though. Quiet +and very great satisfaction, was the result of the matter in Faith's +mind; at least it was all she permitted to be seen; and now she gave +herself happily to the connexion of her nouns and adjectives, and to +watching against the 'german' or 'sophisticated' letters in her +handwriting. The exercise indeed was fast taking a very compound +character; so much so, that Faith might well begin to suspect there had +been a two-fold reason for proposing it. But Mr. Linden had a peculiar +way of teaching--especially of teaching her; and made her almost forget +in the pleasure of learning, the fact that she had need to learn. And +as for his memory on the subject, or his perception of how it might +touch her,--they were out of sight: she might have been a little child +there at his side, for the grave simplicity and frankness of his +instructions. And so exercise and reading and philosophy followed on in +a quiet train, and the surface of the earth revealed new wonders, and +the little French book was closed at the end of a pretty chapter. + +"Whenever I get about my duties again, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said, "I +shall make one very stringent rule for our future intercourse." + +"What's that, Mr. Linden?" she said, with the face of quick deep +pleasure she always wore when about any of her studies with him. + +"From the time when I come home to dinner till I go off again, I will +neither speak nor be spoken to, Miss Faith, except in French. That is, +you may speak--but I shall not answer." + +Faith started a little, looked puzzled, and looked terrified,--as much +as she ever did; but rather closed with looking as if it was +_impossible_. + +"I should make the rule at once," said Mr. Linden smiling, "but I +foresee that you would absent yourself entirely. Now when I am down +stairs you will have to see me--whether you want to or not." + +"But I don't know one word!" said Faith breathlessly. "I am afraid I +shall not say, or hear, much, Mr. Linden." + +"O you shall hear a great deal--I will take that upon myself." + +Faith shook her head, gave the fire a final mending, and ran off; for +it was again an hour past the mid-day. Mr. Linden's dinner came up, and +was hardly removed before Dr. Harrison followed. + +"Well, Linden!" he said coming jauntily in,--"I hope you haven't missed +me this morning." + +"Not in the least." + +"I am glad of that. How do you do? I will try and put you in condition +not to miss me this evening--though it is benevolent!"--added the +doctor, pulling off his left glove. "It is a great secret--to make +oneself missed!" + +"It is a secret your gloves will hardly find out, by my fire," said Mr. +Linden. "How well you look, doctor!--not a bit like Nought and All." + +"No,"--said the doctor,--"I believe I disclaimed that particular sphere +of existence yesterday. One had need be One and Somewhat in this +wind--if one will keep a place in a wagon, or elsewhere! But fire +mustn't tempt me, Linden. I'll see to you and be off, and decide what +I'll be afterwards." + +"You may be off without preamble." + +"Do you mean to dismiss me?" exclaimed the doctor raising his eyebrows. +"Have I said that you _must_ accept my poor services?" + +"Why no!" said Mr. Linden,--"doubly no! I am most happy to see you, +doctor." + +"The happiness will be mutual when I have the felicity of understanding +you," said the doctor, settling himself in an attitude. Mr. Linden +surveyed him from head to foot. + +"I perceive indeed that you are One and Somewhat!" he said,--"you still +need 'the four azure chains.' Do you need explanations too?" + +"If you'll be so good!" said the doctor. "Or--ha! you don't mean +_that_, do you?" + +"My arm has been dressed," said Mr. Linden quietly. + +"Never trust a woman!" said the doctor wheeling round. "I thought she +had got enough of that yesterday. Did she do it well?" + +"Excellently well." + +"Your face says so as well as your tongue," said the doctor, with an +odd manner of despair. "I have lost--not my occupation, for I never had +any!--but I have lost my power over you; and she has got it!--I don't +know how to whistle, or I suppose I could take comfort in that." + +Mr. Linden did not whistle, nor laugh, nor speak,--all that could be +said of him was that he lay there very quiet, with his eyes open, +looking remarkably well. + +"Let a woman alone for doing what she has a mind to!" the doctor went +on, in his usual manner now, putting on his gloves. "I tell you what, +Linden--they're the hardest creatures to manage there are;--boys are +nothing to them! Well, good morning!" + +"Good morning,"--said Mr. Linden. "I hope you will be able to manage +the wind." + +The Dr. Harrison who had been up stairs was not at all the Dr. Harrison +that met Faith in the hall and escorted her to the carriage. Grave, +gentle, graceful, but especially grave, for some reason or other, he +was; and not the less for that agreeable, she thought. Faith was in a +sober mood herself; for she was about an undertaking she did not much +like; and which Mr. Linden had liked even less. Faith pondered, as they +drove swiftly along, what the particular objections had been which he +had not chosen to tell her; and now and then thought a little uneasily +of the coming interview with the doctor's patient, with Dr. Harrison +himself for auditor and spectator. She did not like it; but she had +honestly done what she thought right, and Mr. Linden had said _she_ was +not wrong. And she was bound on the expedition, which she could not get +rid of; so though these considerations did float over and over her mind +they did not shake what was nevertheless a very happy peacefulness. +Faith was glad the doctor was pretty well engaged with his horses; and +let her own musings run upon the pleasant things of the morning, and of +yesterday, with glances at the delightful new world of work and +knowledge into which she had entered, or was entering; and happy +resting down on the foundation for all joy so lately known to her. +Whirled along on smooth going wheels, in that bright brisk day, little +interrupted with talk, these thoughts and meditations took fair little +flying passages through her head; chasing and succeeding each other, +put in and put out by the lights and shadows, the hills and fields, sky +and trees and wind-clouds, as the case might be, and mixing up with +them all. + +Dr. Harrison had come for her this time in an easy pleasant-going +curricle, drawn by beautiful animals, and who felt beautifully in that +gay wind. They looked so, certainly, every motion from ears to tail +telling of life and the enjoyment of it. + +"You are not afraid of anything, I know," said Dr. Harrison, one time +when he had been obliged to hold them in with a good deal of +decision;--"or I would have brought the old family trotter for you." + +"What makes you think so, Dr. Harrison?" + +"I have had proof of it," said he looking at her. Faith shook her head +a little, and could have told him several things; but did not. + +"You are not afraid of these fellows?" + +She said no. + +"There is no pleasure in handling what gives you no trouble;--don't you +think so?" + +Faith sought for illustrations of the subject in her own experience; +did not find them. + +"Now look at those fellows," the doctor went on. "They are fit to fly +out of their skins; but a little bit of steel in their mouths--and a +good rein--and a strong hand at the end of it--and they are mine, and +not their own," said he, giving them a powerful check at the same time +which brought them on their haunches;--"and they know it. Now isn't +there some pleasure in this?" + +"It is rather a man's pleasure," said Faith;--"isn't it?" + +"Do you think so?" said the doctor. "Ah, you know better. Do you mean +to say," he added softly, "that a woman doesn't know the pleasure of +power?" + +"I don't think _I_ do," said Faith meeting his eyes with a smile. He +smiled too, a different smile from what was usual with him. + +The drive was long--much longer than Faith had counted upon, although +they went so fast. "Down by the river"--the doctor had said; but it +appeared not yet what part of the river he was aiming for. Still it was +beautiful; the broken country, open and free, with the cloud shadows +and the brilliant sunlight driving across it, and grey sharp rocks +everywhere breaking it, and tufts and reaches of brown or sear woodland +diversifying it, was not easy to weary of. Nor did Faith weary. The +doctor's words had sent her off on a long journey of thought, while she +travelled over all that open, sunlight and shadow, country. Starting +from the words, "Behold we put bits in the horses' mouths, that they +may obey us";--she had gone on to moral government and suasion; the +means and the forces of both, not failing to illustrate largely here +from personal experience; and on and up to the one great and strong +hand that holds the reins of all, and makes even sunlight and shade, +rock and hill, do his work and his bidding. + +But now in all that broad picture of life and life work, appeared a +little dark spot; which, small as it was, formed for the moment the +vanishing point, where every line of beauty and sunlight met and ended. +For with that strange recognizing of unknown things, Faith saw before +her the house where the dying woman lay,--and knew it for that, before +the doctor spoke. A plain, brown, unpainted house; straight and square, +with no break of piazza or window blinds; tapestried on the front with +frost-bitten gourd vines, the yellow and green fruit yet unscathed. The +usual little gate and dooryard common to such country houses; the usual +remains of autumn flowers therein; the usual want of trees. Yet by the +universal law of indemnification, the house was more picturesque than +painting and architecture could have made it. Neighbours it had none, +for contrast; but a low woody point of land stretched off behind it, +reaching out even into the Mong. And the Mong itself--with its cool +sharp glitter in the stirring wind, and the swash of its blue waves at +the very foot of the little paling about the house; its white-sailed +craft, its white-winged sea gulls;-- + + "Our lives are rivers, gliding free + To that unfathomed, boundless sea, + The silent grave! + Thither all earthly pomp and boast + Roll, to be swallowed up and lost + In one dark wave. + + 'Thither the mighty torrents stray, + Thither the brook pursues its way, + And tinkling rill. + There all are equal. Side by side + The poor man and the son of pride + Lie calm and still." + + +Of the two that now entered that little dooryard, one felt all this and +one did not. The one who had felt "the power of an endless life," +perceived the narrow bounds of this,--to the one who had nothing +beyond, its domain was vast. And as is often the case, the man went +first and the angel followed. + +The doctor stepped up to the bedside and made some general enquiries. +But it did not appear that there was much _he_ could do. + +"Mrs. Custers," said he presently, "you know I promised I would bring, +if I could, a lady to see you. Here she is--Miss Derrick." + +Faith came to the side of the bed. Little her quiet face shewed how she +was trembling. In her soft sweet way she asked the sick woman how she +did. And Mrs. Custers turned her head a little, and gazed up into the +blooming face with strange, eager, feverish eyes--eyes that thirsted, +but with no bodily thirst. Then she closed them again and turned her +face away, but said nothing. + +"Have you been sick long?" asked Faith. + +She did not answer, then; though as if the tones of Faith's voice were +making their way, there came presently a slight quiver of the face, and +a bright drop or two that the closed eyelids could not quite keep back. +But she was at that point of time where the fear of man has lost its +power,--where the doctor loses his supremacy and visiters their +interest: where men and things are pushed like shadows into the +background, and the mind can see no object save "the great white +throne." This was what the silence expressed,--it was not dislike, nor +churlishness; but those surface questions failed to reach her where she +stood. The next gentle and tender "What is the matter?"--was so spoken +that it found her even there. Her eyes came back to Faith's face with +the sort of look they had given before. And then she spoke. + +"Where would you be going if you were lying where I be?" + +Faith heeded not the doctor then, nor anything else in the world. She +waited an instant; she had drawn herself up on hearing the question; +then leaning forward again she said slowly, tenderly, + +"I should be going--to be happy with my divine Redeemer. Are not you?" + +"What makes you think you would?" + +"Because I have his word for it," said Faith. "He says that whoever +believes in him shall not perish, and that every one that loves him +shall be with him where he is;--I believe in him and love him with my +whole heart; and I know he is true. He will not cast me away." Slowly, +clearly, the words were spoken; so that they might every one enter and +be received by the ears that heard. + +The woman looked at her,--scanned her, examined her,--looked down +towards the foot of the bed at the doctor--then back at Faith. + +"Do you believe all that?" she said. + +"I know it!"--said Faith, with a tiny bit of joy-speaking smile. + +Again that intent look. + +"Well _he_ don't," she said with a motion towards the doctor. "Which of +ye am _I_ to believe?" + +"Don't believe either of us!" said Faith quickly, her look rather +brightening than otherwise, though the play of her lips took a +complicate character.--"Believe God! Don't you know _his_ words?" + +"I s'pose I do--some of 'em. I can't believe anything with _him_ down +there lookin' at me!" she said impetuously. "He said _he_ didn't +believe--and I keep thinkin' of that." + +"Will you believe him, rather than God?--rather than the Lord Jesus, +who came and gave his very life for us, to bring us to heaven. Do you +think _he_ would tell us anything but truth after that? _His_ words +are, 'He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.'" + +"Well I'm most dead--" said the woman in a sort of cold, hopeless tone. + +"Let Jesus make you live!" said Faith, in a voice as warm and loving. + +"The doctor said _he_ couldn't," she answered in the same tone as +before. "He believes that, anyhow." + +Faith answered, + +"'My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. And I +give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall +any man pluck them out of my hand.'" + +That same little quiver passed over the face, but it changed into an +irrepressible shudder. + +"Sit down here on the bed," she said, looking up at Faith, "and put +your face so I can't see his'n--and then you may talk." + +And with that fair head for a screen, as if it really warded off some +evil influence, Mrs. Custers lay and listened quietly for a while; but +then her hands were clasped over her face, and she broke into a low +sobbing fit--as if mind and body were pouring out their griefs +together. Not loud, not hysterical; but weary, subdued, overpowering; +until the utter exhaustion brought sleep. + +Faith got off the bed then,--looked at her, looked at the doctor,--and +then by an irrepressible feeling, sunk on her knees. Leave _her_, go +out of the house with _him_, she could not, until she had put the cause +of them all into the hand she knew _her_ friend and wished theirs. A +few moments' motionless hiding of her face, during which, as indeed +during the whole conversation, Dr. Harrison was nearly motionless too, +and used his eyes silently; and Faith rose from her knees. She gave +another look at the poor weary face that lay there, and then led the +way out of the house. The doctor followed her, having perhaps got more +than enough of the result of his ride. But as he was unfastening his +horses, or rather after he had done it and was waiting to hand her in, +Faith addressed him. + +"Dr. Harrison, on whose errand do you go telling that woman that God's +word is not true?" + +She spoke gently, yet as the doctor faced her he saw that her soft eye +could be steady as an eagle's. He did not answer. + +"Not for God's service," she went on answering herself,--"nor for +yours. See to it!" + +She turned and let him put her into the carriage and they set off +again. But the drive homewards promised to be as silent as the drive +out had been. The doctor was grave after another fashion now, with a +further-down gravity, and scarce looked at anything but his horses; +except when a glance or a hand came to see if Faith was well wrapped up +from the wind, or to make her so. And either action was done not with +his accustomed grace merely, but with even a more delicate tender care +of her than ordinary. Faith was in little danger of cold for some time. +Grief and loving sorrow were stirred and stirring too deeply for +thought or feeling of anything else; only that beneath and with them +her heart was singing, singing, in notes that seemed to reach her from +the very harps of heaven,-- + + "I thank Thee, uncreated Sun, + That thy bright beams on me have shined!" + + +As they went on, however, and mile after mile was passed over again, +and the afternoon waned, the wind clouds seemed thicker and the wind +more keen; Faith felt it and began to think of home The horses felt it +too, and perhaps also thought of home, for they travelled well. + +"What are you meditating, Miss Derrick?" the doctor said at length, +almost the first word he had spoken. + +"I was thinking, just at that minute, sir, of the use of beauty in the +world." + +"The use of beauty!" said the doctor, looking at her; he would have +been astonished, if the uppermost feeling had not been of relief. "What +is its use? To make the world civilized and habitable, isn't it?" + +"No--" said Faith,--"I should think it was meant to make us good. Look +at the horses, Dr. Harrison!" + +The carriage had turned an angle of the road, which brought the wind +pretty strongly in their faces. The horses seemed to take it as +doubtful fun, or else to be inclined to make too much fun of it. They +were all alive with spirit, rather excited than allayed by their miles +of quick travelling. The doctor tried to quiet them by rein and voice +both. + +"They get a little too much oats for the work they do," said he. "I +must take them out oftener. Take care of this wind, Miss Derrick; I +haven't a hand to help you. What's that?--" + +'That' was a bunch of weeds thrown into the road just before the +horses' heads, from over the fence; and was just enough to give them +the start which they were ready for. They set off instantly at full +run. The road was good and clear; the carriage was light; the wind was +inspiriting, the oats suggestive of mischief. The doctor's boasted rein +and hand with all the aid of steel bits, were powerless to stop them. +In vain he coaxed and called to them; their speed increased every +minute; they had made up their minds to be frightened, and plunged +along accordingly. The doctor spoke once or twice to Faith, encouraging +or advising her; she did not speak nor stir. + +They were just hearing the brow of a hill, when an unlucky boy in the +road, thinking to stay their progress, stepped before them and waved +his hat over his head. Faith heard an execration from the doctor, then +his shout to her, "Don't stir, Miss Derrick!"--and then she hardly knew +anything else. The horses plunged madly down the hill, leaped carriage +and all across a fence at the bottom of it, where the road turned, +overthrew themselves and landed the doctor and Faith on different sides +of the carriage, in a meadow. + +The doctor picked himself up again, entirely unhurt, and going round to +Faith lifted her head from the ground. But she was stunned by the fall, +and for a few minutes remained senseless. + +In these circumstances, no house being near, the doctor naturally +shouted to a cap or hat which he saw passing along the road. Which cap +also it happened belonged to Sam Stoutenburgh, who was on an errand +into the country for his father. + +If ever Dr. Harrison was unceremoniously put aside, it was then. Sam +had come rather leisurely at first--then with a sort of flying bound +which cleared the fence like a thistle down, he bore down upon the +doctor, and taking up Faith as easily as if she had been a kitten, +absolutely ran with her to a spring which welled up through the long +meadow grass a few yards off. There the doctor found him applying the +cold water with both gentleness and skill, for Sam Stoutenburgh had a +mother, and her fingers had been so employed about his own head many a +time. + +"You're a handy fellow!" said the doctor with a mixture of expressions, +as he joined his efforts to Sam's.--"That will do it!"-- + +For Faith opened her eyes. The first word was "Mother!"--then she sat +up and looked round, and then covered her face. + +"Are you hurt?" said Dr. Harrison after an instant. + +"No sir, I think not--I believe not." + +"Can you stand up?" + +With the help of his hand she could do it easily. She stood silent, +supported by him, looking on the prostrate horses and shattered +curricle; then turned her grave eyes on the doctor. + +"Don't stand too long, Miss Faith!" said Sam earnestly, with trembling +lips too, for the manhood in him had not got very far. "Are you _sure_ +you're not hurt?" + +"Sam!" said Faith giving her hand to him.--"I didn't know it was you +who was helping me." + +"I only wish I'd been here for you to fall upon!" said Sam, with a +queer mingling of grief and pleasure. "Seems as if folks couldn't +always be in just the right place." + +"I am not hurt," she said with a little shudder. + +"Now, how are you going to do to get home?" said the doctor looking +much concerned. "Shall I--" + +"I will walk home," she said interrupting him. + +"You are not able! We are three miles, at least, from Mrs. Derrick's +house. You could not bear it." + +"I can walk three miles," she said with a faint, fair smile. "I will go +home with Sam, and you can take care of the horses." + +"That would be a tolerably backhanded arrangement!" said the +doctor.--"Young man, will you bring these horses into town for +me--after I get them on their legs--to Judge Harrison's, or +anywhere?--I must take care of this lady and see her safe." + +"Yes--I'll bring 'em into town," said Sam, "but Miss Faith's to be seen +to first--if they don't get on their legs all night! _That_'ll be a +work of time, I take it. Miss Faith--could you walk just a little +way?--there's a house there, and maybe a wagon." + +"You don't understand me," said the doctor. "I asked if you would do me +the favour to bring my horses into town. _I_ will take care of the +lady." + +Sam considered a minute--not the doctor but things. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "I can run faster than you can walk, beyond all +calculation. If you'll keep warm here, I'll run till I find a +wagon--for if you don't ride and tell the story some one else +will,--and then there's two people will be worse hurt than you are. +You'd get home quickest so." Faith was about to speak but the doctor +prevented her. + +"Then you refuse to take care of my horses?" he said. "I told you I +would take care of the lady." + +"Bother the horses!" said Sam impatiently,--"who's to think about +horses with Miss Faith here frightened to death? I'm ready to drive 'em +all over creation, when I get ready, Dr. Harrison!" + +Faith in her turn interposed. + +"I would rather walk than wait, Dr. Harrison. If Sam knows some house +near by, I would rather walk so far with him than wait for him to go +and come again. We could send some one to help you then. Sam, you'll +help Dr. Harrison get the horses up." + +So much Sam was willing to do, and the doctor with such grace as he +might, accepted; that is, with no grace at all. The horses with some +trouble and difficulty were raised to their feet, and found whole. The +carriage was broken too much to be even drawn into town. Faith then set +out with her escort. + +"How far is your house, Sam?" + +But Sam shook his head at that--the nearest one of any sort was a poor +sort of a place, where they sometimes had a wagon standing and +sometimes didn't. "But we can try, Miss Faith," he said in conclusion. +Sam's arm was a strong one, and certainly if he could have induced his +companion to lean her whole weight on it his satisfaction would have +increased in proportion; as it was he gave her good help. And thus they +had walked on, in the fading afternoon light, more than what to Faith +was "just a little way," when the first house came in sight. + +Fortunately the wagon was at home; and before it stood an old horse +that one of the men said "he should like to see run!"--but for once +such deficiency was the best recommendation. Another man set off on +foot to find and help Dr. Harrison, and the owner of the slow horse +gave the reins to Sam. The wagon was not on springs, and the buffalo +skin was old, and the horse was slow!--beyond a question; but still it +was easier than walking, and even quicker. Sam Stoutenburgh did his +best to make Faith comfortable--levying upon various articles for that +purpose, and drove along with a pleasure which after all can never be +unmixed in this world! Even Sam felt that, for his long-drawn "Oh Miss +Faith!"--said much, and carried Faith's thoughts (she hardly knew why) +to more than one person at home. + +"Sam," said Faith, "I don't want to say anything about this to-night." + +"Well, ma'am--I won't say a word, if I can help it. Do you mean to +_anybody_, Miss Faith?" + +"Not to anybody. I mean, not to any one at home." + +"I won't if I can help it," Sam repeated. "But it's my night to stay +with Mr. Linden." + +"Is it?--Well--what if it is?" + +"I don't know--" said Sam dubiously,--"he has a funny way of reading +people's faces." + +"But what is going to be in yours, Sam?" + +"I don't know that, neither," said Sam. "But the fact is, Miss Faith, +he always _does_ find out things--and if it's anything he's got to do +with you may just as good tell him at once as to fuss round." + +A pretty significant piece of information! Upon which Faith mused. + +It was not so late when they reached Mrs. Derrick's door, that the good +lady's anxiety had got fairly under way. At that moment indeed, she had +quitted the front of the house, and gone to hurry Cindy and the +teakettle; so that Faith was in the house and her escort dismissed, +before Mrs. Derrick appeared. + +"Why pretty child!" she said--"here you are! I was very near getting +worried. And I went up and asked Mr. Linden what time it was, lest the +clock shouldn't be right; but he seemed to think it wasn't worth while +to fret about you yet. You're tired to death!" she added, looking at +Faith. "You're as pale as anything, child!" + +"Yes mother--I'm very tired." + +And very glad to get home, she would have said, but her lips failed it. + +"Well do sit down, child," said her mother, "and I'll take your things +up stairs. Tea's all ready--that'll do you good, and then you shall go +right to bed." + +But that did not seem what Faith was ready to do; instead of that, she +preferred to sit down by her mother, and wrap her arms round her again +and lay her head in her mother's lap. Even then she did not sleep, +though she was by no means inclined to talk and answered Mrs. Derrick's +fond or anxious words with very few in return, low and quiet, or with +quiet caresses. And when her mother was silent, to let her sleep, Faith +was silent too. + +They had sat so motionless for awhile, when Faith changed her posture. +She got up, sat down on a chair by her mother's side, laid her head in +her neck and wrapped arms round _her_ in turn. + +"Mother--" she said most caressingly,--"when will you begin to follow +Christ with me?--I want that, I want that!"-- + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + + +While Dr. Harrison was sleeping off the effects of his exertions, +mental and physical, of the preceding day; and his horses in their +stable realized that the reaping of wild oats has its own fatigues; +Mrs. Derrick was stirring about with even unwonted activity, preparing +for that unwonted breakfast up stairs. An anxious look or two at +Faith's sleeping face had assured her mother that the fatigue there had +been nothing very serious; and Mrs. Derrick went down with a glad heart +to her preparations. There Faith joined her after awhile, and as +breakfast time approached, Mrs. Derrick suggested that Faith should go +up and see that the table was all right, and receive the breakfast +which she herself would send up. Cindy was already there, passing back +and forth, and the door stood open to facilitate her operations. + +If Faith had felt curious as to the success of Sam Stoutenburgh's +efforts at concealment, her curiosity was at once relieved. The room as +she saw it through the half-open door was bright with firelight and +sunshine; the spoons and cups on the little table shone cheerily in the +glow; and all things were in their accustomed pretty order and +disorder. But the couch was empty, and Mr. Linden stood by the +mantelpiece, leaning one arm there, his face bent down and covered with +his hand. + +Faith had no need to knock--the door being open and Cindy in full +possession; but as her light step came near the fire he turned suddenly +and held out his hand to her without a word. Then gently pushing her +back to the corner of the couch, Mr. Linden bade her "sit down and be +quiet--" and he himself took a chair at her side. She could hardly tell +how he looked--the face was so different from any she had ever seen him +wear. + +For a minute she obeyed orders; then she said, though with an eye that +avoided meeting his, + +"I mustn't be quiet, Mr. Linden--I must see to the breakfast table." + +If his first motion was to hinder that, he thought better of it, and +suffered her to go and give her finishing touches; watching her all the +time, as she felt, but without speaking; and when Cindy shut the door +and tramped down stairs, the room was very still. Only the light +crackling of the hickory sticks in the chimney, and those soft +movements about the table. If ever such movements were made with +pleasure--if ever a face of very deep peacefulness hovered over the +placing and displacing of knives and forks, plates and +salt-cellars,--it was then. Yet it was not a very abstracted face, nor +looked as if the _outward_ quiet might be absolutely immovable. The +last touch put to the table, Faith glanced at the hickory sticks on the +fire; but they wanted nothing; and then her look came round to Mr. +Linden, and the smile which could no longer be kept back, came too; a +smile of touching acknowledgment. + +"Miss Faith, will you come and sit down?" + +She came, silently. + +One deep breath she did hear, as Mr. Linden arranged the cushions and +with gentle force made her lean against them, but either he did not +feel himself able to touch directly what they were both thinking of--or +else thought her not able to bear it. His tone was very quiet, the rest +of his hand upon her hair hardly longer than it had been yesterday, as +he said, + +"What will my scholar be fit for to-day?--anything but sleep?" + +For a moment it was a little more than she could bear, and her face for +that moment was entirely grave; then she smiled up at him and answered +in a tone lighter than his had been, + +"Fit for anything--and more fit than ever, Mr. Linden. I only rest here +because you put me here." + +The next remark diverged a little, and was given with darkening eyes. + +"How DARED he take you with those young horses!" + +"He thought he could do just what he pleased with them--" said Faith, +shaking her head a little. + +"And with you--" was in Mr. Linden's mind, but it came not forth. +"Where is your mother?--does she know?" + +"Mother's coming," said Faith raising herself from the cushions,--"as +soon as she sends up the breakfast. She doesn't know yet. I told Sam +not to tell you, Mr. Linden. + +"How do you do to-day?" + +She answered him with a bright fair glance and in a tone as sweet as +happiness could make it, + +"_Very_ well!" + +Mr. Linden's eyes went from her to the opening door and the entering +dishes. + +"Sara was not in fault, Miss Faith,--I heard you come home." + +In the train of the dishes came Mrs. Derrick, and looked with a little +amaze at Mr. Linden off the couch and Faith upon it. But if the first +didn't hurt him, she knew the second wouldn't hurt Faith, with whose +appearance her mother was not yet quite satisfied. And when they were +all at the table, Mrs. Derrick might wonder at those words of very +earnest thanksgiving that they were all brought together again, but +they needed no explanation to any one else. In all her life Faith had +never known just such a breakfast. That sweet sense of being safe--of +being shielded,--of breathing an atmosphere where no evil, mental, +moral, or physical, could reach her,--how precious it was!--after those +hours of fear and sorrow. If her two companions had visibly joined +hands around her, she could not have felt the real fact more strongly. +And another hand was nearer and more precious still to her +apprehension; even the one that made theirs strong and had brought her +within them. Faith's face was a fair picture, for all this was there. +But Faith's words were few. + +How many Mr. Linden's would have been, of choice, cannot be known; for +Mrs. Derrick's mind was so intent upon the last night's expedition, so +eager to know how the poor woman was, and what she said, and where she +lived; and how Faith enjoyed the drive, and what made her get so +tired,--that he had full occupation in warding oil the questions and +turning them another way. In compliance with her wishes he had taken +his usual place on the couch, and there made himself useful both with +word and hand; the particular use of breakfast to him, was not so +apparent. + +It was over not a bit too soon; for Cindy had not finished the work of +removing it before she brought up word that the doctor was come and +wanted to see Mis' Derrick. Faith judged the enquiry was meant for +herself and ran down stairs accordingly. The doctor was satisfied that +she was none the worse of her ride with him, but had brought a very +serious face to the examination. + +"Have you forgiven me, Miss Derrick?" + +"I have nothing to forgive, sir!" Faith told him with a look that gave +sweet assurance of it.--"I am not hurt. I am very glad I went." + +"May I say," said the doctor, and he looked as if he was uneasy till he +had said it,--"that you misjudged me yesterday from that woman's words. +I did not choose to interrupt her--and the severity of your remarks to +me," he said with a little smile which did not want feeling, "took from +me at the moment the power to justify myself. But Miss Derrick, I have +not done what you seemed to suppose--and fairly enough, for _she_ gave +you to understand it. I never set myself to overthrow her belief in +anything. I have hardly held any conversation with her, except what +related to her physical condition; if I have said anything it has been +a word intended to quiet her. I saw her mind was very much disturbed." + +Faith had looked very grave, with eyes cast down, during the hearing of +this speech. She raised them then, at the end, and said with great +gentleness, + +"There is but one way to give quiet that will stand, Dr. Harrison." + +"I am sure you are right," he said looking at her with an unwonted +face, nearer to reverence than Dr. Harrison was often known to give to +anything "I hope you will go and see that poor creature again and undo +any mischief my careless words may have done." + +"Won't you undo them yourself, Dr. Harrison?" + +"I will endorse yours, so well as I can!" he said. "But won't you see +her again?" + +"If I can,--I will try to go." + +"May I see Mr. Linden?" was the next question in a lighter tone; and +receiving permission the doctor moved himself up stairs. He entered Mr. +Linden's room with a quiet, composed air, very different from the +jaunty manner of yesterday; and applied himself with business quiet to +Mr. Linden's state and wants. And the reception he met was not one to +set him a talking. It was not tinged with the various feelings which +the _thought_ of him had stirred in Mr. Linden's mind that night and +morning,--if they lived still it was in the background. The grasp of +his hand was firmer than usual, the tone more earnest, which said, "I +am very glad to see you!"--and yet the doctor felt that in them both +there was more--and also less--than mere personal feeling. + +He had nearly finished the arrangements of Mr. Linden's arm when he +remarked, "Did you hear the result of our expedition yesterday?" + +A grave 'yes,' answered him. + +"You see," said the doctor, "I couldn't manage the wind!" + +But to that there was no reply. + +"It was just that," said the doctor. "Those horses had been taking +whiskey, I believe, instead of oats; and the wind just made them mad. +They ran for pure love of running!--till a little villain threw up his +hat at them--and then indeed it was which could catch the clouds first." + +If the doctor wanted help in his account, he got none. He drew back and +took a survey. + +"What's the matter, Linden?--you look more severe at me this morning +than Miss Derrick does;--and I am sure she has the most reason." + +"I have a prudent fit come over me once in a while," said Mr. Linden +goodhumouredly, but with a little restless change of position. "I'm +afraid if I talk much upon this subject I shall get out of +patience--and I couldn't lay all the blame of that upon you." + +"What blame--do you pretend--to lay upon me, as it is?" said the doctor +not illhumouredly. + +"There'll be no pretence about it--when I lay it on," said Mr. Linden. + +"Enact Macduff--and lay on!" said the doctor smiling. + +"Let it suffice you that I could if I would." + +"The shadows of strokes suffice me!" said the doctor. "Am I a man of +straw? Do you take me for Sir Andrew Aguecheck? 'horribly valiant' +after his fashion. What have I done, man?" He stood, carelessly +handsome an handsomely careless, before the couch, looking down upon +Mr. Linden as if resolved to have something out of him. + +A part of the description applied well to the face he was looking +at--yet after a different fashion; and anything less careless than the +look Mr. Linden bent upon him, could not be imagined. It was a look +wherein again different feelings held each other in check,--the grave +reproof, the sorrowful perception, the quick indignation--Dr. Harrison +might detect them all; and yet more, the wistful desire that he were a +different man. This it was that answered. + +"What have you done, doctor?--you have very nearly given yourself full +proof of those true things which you profess to disbelieve." + +"How do you know that I disbelieve anything?" said the doctor, with a +darkening yet an acute look;--"much more that I _profess_ to +disbelieve?" + +"How do I know whether a ship carries a red or a blue light at her +masthead?" + +"You don't, if she carries no light at all; and I do not remember that +I ever professed myself in your hearing on either side of the 'things' +I suppose you mean." + +"What do you say of a ship that carries no light at all?" + +"Must a ship _always_ hang out her signals, man?" + +"Ay--" said Mr. Linden,--"else she may run down the weaker craft, or be +run down by the stronger." + +"Suppose she don't know, in good truth, what light belongs to her?" + +"It is safe to find out." + +"Who has told you, Linden, that I believed or disbelieved anything?" + +"Yourself." + +"May I ask, if any other testimony has aided your judgment, or come in +aid of it?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden, looking at him with a grave, considering eye. "I +am not much in the habit of discussing such points with third parties." + +The doctor bit his lip; and then smiled. + +"You're a good fellow, Linden. But you see, I can afford to say that +now. I have you at advantage. As long as you lie there, and I am your +attending physician--which latter I assure you I look upon as a piece +of my good fortune--you _can't_, knock me down, if you feel disposed. I +am safe, and can afford to be generous. As to the lights," said the +doctor taking up his hat, "I agree to what you say--and that's more of +a concession than I ever made on the subject before. But in the +atmosphere I have lived in, I do assure you I have not been able to +tell the blue lights from the red!" + +"I believe you," said Mr. Linden,--"nor was it altogether the fault of +the atmosphere. Even where the colour is right, the glass is sometimes +dim. What then?" + +"What then? why the inference is plain. If one can not be distinguished +from the other, one is as good as the other!" + +"And both shine with a steady clear light upon the heavenward way?" + +"There's no question of shining," said the doctor half scornfully, half +impatiently. "If they shew colour at all, it is on a way that is murky +enough, heaven knows!" + +"Then what have they to do with the question?" said Mr. Linden,--"you +are applying rules of action which you would laugh at in any other +case. Does the multitude of quacks disgust you with the science of +medicine?--does the dim burning of a dozen poor candles hinder your +lighting a good one? You have nothing to do with other people's +lights,--let your own shine!" + +Dr. Harrison stood looking at his adviser a minute, with a smile that +was both pleased and acute. + +"Linden"--said he,--"it strikes me that you are out of your vocation." + +"When I heard that account last night,"--Mr. Linden went on--and he +paused, as if the recollection were painful,--"the second thing I +thought of was your own words, that heaven is not in 'your line.'" + +"Well?--" said the doctor swinging his hat and beginning to pace up and +down the room, and speaking as if at once confessing and justifying the +charge laid to him,--"Now and then, I believe, a bodily angel comes +down to the earth and leaves her wings behind her--but that's not +humanity, Linden!" + +"True servant of God, is as fair a name as angel," said Mr. Linden; +"and that is what humanity may be and often is. 'Though crowns are +wanting, and bright pinions folded.'" + +"I don't know--" said the doctor. "I shouldn't have wondered any minute +yesterday to see the pinions unfold before me." Which remark was +received in silence. + +"If such an angel were to take hold of me," the doctor went on +meditatively,--"I believe she might make me and carry me whither she +would. But I wonder if I shall be forbid the house now!"--He stopped +and looked at Mr. Linden with a face of comic enquiry. + +"You may come and see _me_," said Mr. Linden, with comforting assurance. + +"Do you think I may?" said the doctor. He sat down and threw his hat on +the floor.--"What shall I do with Mrs. Derrick? She will want to send +me off in a balloon, on some air journey that will never land me on +earth!--or find some other vanishing medium most prompt and +irrevocable--all as a penalty for my having ventured to leap a fence in +company with her daughter!" + +But the prudent fit had perhaps come back upon Mr. Linden, for except a +sudden illumination of eye and face, the doctor's speech called forth +no opinion. + +"The best driver on earth can't be a centaur, man! Horses in these days +will have heads of their own." But then the doctor rose up and came +gracefully and gravely again to take his friend and patient's hand. + +"I agree to all you say!" said he, looking down with a goodhumoured +wilful expression to Mr. Linden's face;--"and I know no other man to +whom I would own as much, after such words and such _silence_ as you +have bestowed on me. Good-bye. But really, remember, a man is not +answerable for all his horses--or all his wits--may do." + +The doctor went; and then there was an interval of some length. Faith +had found several things to do in her down stairs department, which she +would not leave to her mother; especially after the shock Mrs. +Derrick's mind and heart had received from the communication of what +had happened the day before. So it was a little later than usual when +the light tap was heard at Mr. Linden's door and Faith and a cup of +cocoa came in. She set the cup down, and then went out again for a dish +of grapes and pears--Judge Harrison's and Farmer David's sending--which +she brought to the table. + +"I didn't know which you would like best, Mr. Linden;--so I brought +both." + +"I should like to be waiting on you," he said,--"Miss Faith, you ought +not to be waiting on me. I shall bestir myself and come down stairs." + +There was expression in the kind of happy silence that answered him, as +she offered the cocoa. + +"I don't know where to begin to talk to you this morning," said Mr. +Linden,--"everything demands the first place. Miss Faith, when you feel +that you can, will you tell me all about yesterday? I wish I could give +you this couch again, but I suppose in prudence I ought to lie still." + +She saw him served with what he would have; then sat down, and a shadow +of sweet gravity came over her. + +"The ride out was all very pleasant. There wasn't much talk, and I +could just enjoy everything. It's a long way, Mr. Linden," she said +glancing at him--she spoke generally with her eyes bent somewhere +else;--"it must be ten or twelve miles, for we went very fast; and it +was beautiful, with the wind and the driving clouds and shadows. So I +enjoyed all that part, and wasn't afraid of the horses, or not much +afraid--though they went _very_ fast and I saw they felt very gay. I +liked the going fast and I thought the doctor could manage them." She +paused. + +"Are you sure you want to talk of this now?" Mr. Linden said. "You know +we have other things to do--this can wait till you choose." + +"I like to tell it," she said with another quick glance and a quick +breath,--"but the visit comes next--and I don't know how to tell you of +that. Mr. Linden, I wish you could see that woman!--And if you can't +soon, I must,--somehow." + +"If I can't--or if I can, I will find you the 'somehow,' if you want to +go. And if you will let me," he added. "Is she really dying?" + +"She says so--" Faith said low. And was silent a bit. + +"Then we set out to come home, and all went very well till we were half +way on the road; but then the horses seemed to grow more frisky than +ever--I think the wind excited them; and Dr. Harrison had his hands +full, I could see, to hold them in, especially after we turned +Lamprey's corner and the wind was in their faces. I think it was +something suddenly flung over the fence, that started them off to +run--and then they ran faster and faster, and reins and bits were of no +use at all." + +Faith was excited herself, and spoke slowly and low and with hindered +breath. + +"I saw they were getting more and more furious,--and there were a few +minutes, Mr. Linden, when I thought I should maybe never see home +again.--And then I thanked you in my heart." + +"_Me?_" he said with quick emphasis, and looking at her. + +Faith did not look at him, but after a pause went on very quietly. + +"I mean, on earth I thanked you. The end of it was, they took a new +fright at something, I believe, just at the top of a hill; and after +that it was all a whirl. I hardly knew anything--till I found myself +lying on the ground in the meadow. The horses had jumped the carriage +and all clean over the fence. The fence was just below the foot of the +hill; the road took a turn there.--Sam told you the rest--didn't he, +Mr. Linden?" + +He said "yes," and not another word, but lay there still with those +closely shielded eyes; and lips unbent from their usual repose, with +grave humbleness and grief and joy. The silence lasted till Faith spoke +again. And that was some little space of time. A shade graver and lower +her tone was when she spoke. + +"I shall never forget after this, that it is 'part of a Christian's +sailing-orders to speak every vessel he meets.'--I think I shall never +forget it again." + +Mr. Linden did look then at the little craft that had begun her voyage +so undauntedly under the Christian colours, though what he thought of +her he said not; apparently his own words were not yet ready, though he +spoke. + +"'Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou +dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.'" + +Faith spoke no more. She sat in the absolutest quiet, of face and +figure both; looking into the fire that played in the chimney, with a +fixedness that perhaps told--in the beginning--of some doubtfulness of +self command. But the happy look of the face was in nowise changed. + +A knock at the door was the first interruption, a knock so low down +that the latch seemed quite too high to match it; but by some exercise +of skill this was lifted, and Johnny Fax presented himself. He looked +very wide awake, and smiling, and demure, as was his wont, though +to-day the smiles were in the ascendant; owing perhaps to the weest of +all wee baskets which he held in his hand. Coming close up to Mr. +Linden, and giving him the privileged caress, Johnny stood there within +his arm and smiled benignly upon Faith, as if he considered her quite +part and parcel of the same concern. Who smiled back upon him, and +enquired "where he had come from?" + +Johnny said "From home, ma'am," and looked down at his tiny basket as +if it were a weight on his mind that he did not know how to get rid of. + +"Johnny," said Mr. Linden, "what have you got in that basket?" + +"You couldn't guess!" said Johnny with a very bright face. + +"I couldn't guess!" said Mr. Linden. "Don't you suppose I can do +anything?" + +"Yes--" said Johnny shaking his head,--"but you can't do that." + +"Then I shall not try," said Mr. Linden, "and you'll have to tell me." + +Johnny put his face close down by Mr. Linden, and whispered, but not so +low that Faith could not hear-- + +"It's two white eggs that my black hen laid for you, sir!" + +"Well I never should have guessed that!"--said Mr. Linden smiling. "I +didn't suppose there was a hen in the world that cared so much for me. +I don't believe she would if she was not _your_ hen, Johnny."--Which +last sentence Johnny understood just well enough to feel delighted; and +stood with a glad little face while his teacher opened the basket, and +taking up first one egg and then the other, commented upon their size +and whiteness. + +"As soon as I can get out I shall come and see that hen," said Mr. +Linden, drawing the child closer and giving him another kiss--which +Johnny thought was worth a whole basket of eggs;--"so you must tell her +to have her feathers in good order. Now what have you to say to Miss +Faith?" + +"O _she_ talks to _me_," said Johnny. + +"Does she?" said Mr. Linden,--"is that the division of labour? What +does she talk about, Johnny?--let me see how well you remember." It was +said with a little acknowledging look that he was asking that to which +somebody would demur--but also with a wilful assumption that somebody +would come to no harm. So though Faith flushed and started, she sat +back in her seat again without making any word interposition. Johnny +stood and thought--for he was a real little literalist. + +"She talked about heaven--" he said slowly,--"and how to get +there,--and said she was going--and we must too. That's what she said +Sunday. And at Judge Harrison's she said she was glad I'd got a red +ribband--and down to Neanticut she told me to run away." + +"I'm sure that was a gentle way of dismissing you," said Mr. Linden, +stroking the child's forehead. "Well Johnny--are you trying to follow +her in that way to heaven she told you of?" + +The "yes" was given without hesitation, and came with strangely sweet +effect from those childish lips. Then after a minute Johnny added, as +if he feared some misunderstanding, + +"It's the same way you told me, sir." + +"Yes, I trust you will see me there too," Mr. Linden said, with a +rather moved look at the little face before him. + +What made Faith, at those last words of Johnny's, jump up and spring to +the fire? And after a most elaborate handling of the sticks of wood, +she did not come back to her seat, but stood still with her back turned +to the couch and the little witness who was testifying there. He was +not called upon for any more evidence, however. Mr. Linden talked--or +let him talk--about various important things in Johnny's daily life and +experience and gave a promise that he himself would be at school as +soon as the doctor gave his permission. + +Mrs. Derrick's soft knock and entrance came now, she herself looking in +good truth as if a "tear-storm" had passed over her. But she brightened +up a little at the sight of Faith. + +"Pretty child!" she said, coming up to her, "and so you're here? I +couldn't rest any longer without seeing just where you were." + +Faith put one hand on her shoulder as she stood, and then clasped the +other upon that. + +"Pretty child!" her mother repeated, in a tone that spoke more of pain +than pleasure--and Faith could feel the shudder that passed over her +then. But she controlled herself. "Do you know it's dinner time, Faith? +How is Mr. Linden?" + +"There he is," said Faith smiling. "I don't know, mother." + +"He don't look to me as if he had ever been asleep," said Mrs. +Derrick,--but whether that shewed want of sleep, or the reverse, was, +as Mr. Linden remarked, quite doubtful. + +Mrs. Derrick looked at him, met his smile--then her whole heart +answered to something it said. + +"Oh Mr. Linden! think of her being in such danger!" and there was a +minute of deep silence. + +"Nay!" he answered softly--and the face was beautiful in its changing +expression,--"think of her being so safe!" + +Mrs. Derrick could bear neither word nor look after that. The two +ladies went down together, leaving Johnny to dine with his teacher. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + + +The dinner up stairs was a very quiet and uninterrupted one. The dinner +down stairs was destined not to be so. + +The first break was the entrance of Cindy with a bunch of +flowers--which the doctor had sent to Miss Derrick, with the desire to +know how she was. Faith received the flowers with a dubious face and +put them in water on the dinner-table, where they looked splendid. Mrs. +Derrick could hardly see their splendour. + +"He needn't think to come round me that way," she said. "Child! I +wouldn't let you go off with him again for twenty kingdoms!" + +"Not with those horses, mother." + +"Nor with any others. I sha'n't ever want to have you go with anybody +again, Faith." + +"What's goin' on here?" said a growling voice which they knew, before +Mr. Simlins entered the door of the dining room. "That gal o' yourn +wants me to stay politely in the parlour yonder--but I ain't +polite--and I come to see you, not your doors and windows nor the +pretty paper on your walls. What are you all about, Mrs. Derrick? I +hear the very spirit of turbidness has got into this house!" + +"There's not much spirit in me to-day," said Mrs. Derrick, "nor spirits +neither. I've lost what little I had. Anybody could knock me down with +a straw. Sit down, Mr. Simlins, and take some dinner." + +"I'm afeard, if it's done so easy, I might occasionally do it with one +o' them posies," said Mr. Simlins standing and surveying the bouquet as +if he didn't know what to make of it. "Do you eat the grass of the +field at your noon-spell?" + +"You may ask Faith," said Mrs. Derrick; "she put 'em there." + +"Sit down, Mr. Simlins," said Faith. + +"I ain't goin' to sit down! I've eat _my_ dinner. I've just come in, +Mrs. Derrick, to see if you're all overturned, or if there's anything +left straight yet." + +"It's _all_ straight," said Faith smiling up at him. "Sit down, Mr. +Simlins." + +"What's the truth of it, Mrs. Derrick? This child ain't all straight, +is she?" + +It followed that, bit by bit, Mr. Simlins got out the story of the +accident, for neither Faith nor Mrs. Derrick was forward to speak about +it. He then enquired, with an unsatisfied grunt, why Faith was "postin' +round with Dr. Harrison?" Whereat Mrs. Derrick felt justly indignant. + +"Why she ain't! Mr. Simlins. She went down there on business, and there +was nobody else at hand to take her just then." + +"What do you call bein' at hand?" said Mr. Simlins. "I've got two +hands, and more'n two horses--that won't run away neither. It's only my +cows do that!--Where's Mr. Linden?" + +"O he's up stairs--" said Mrs. Derrick. "He's not been down yet. Faith, +don't you think he's some stronger to-day?" + +"And so," said Mr. Simlins turning to her again reproachfully,--"while +he's lyin' up there and can't stir, you go drivin' over the country +with 'tother one!" + +But that brought out Faith's round low laugh, so incontrovertibly merry +and musical that it changed Mr. Simlins' face on the instant. It came +to an end almost as soon, but short as it was it was better than the +warble of any nightingale; inasmuch as the music of a good sound human +heart is worth all the birds in creation. + +"When's Mr. Linden going to be down stairs, where a body can get sight +of him?" + +"The doctor says he mustn't go out for a long time yet," said Mrs. +Derrick. "When are you going to find the man that shot him?--that's +what I want to know." + +"When I get a composition from the only witness," Mr Simlins answered. +"And as the witness ain't particular about testifying, I'm afeard it'll +be a spell o' time yet. It'll come out. _I _should think the fellow'd +ha' made tracks, fust thing; but I 'aint heerd of any one's bein' +missin' from town,--except--" + +Mr. Simlins suddenly started, stopped, and gazed at Faith with a most +extraordinary expression. + +"Did you look at my flowers, Mr. Simlins?" said Faith quite quietly, +though without meeting his eye. + +"I've seen nosegays afore," growled Mr. Simlins in a very uninterested +manner. "I don't see as this is no more nor less than a nosegay. Do you +s'pose I might go up and see somebody up stairs for two minutes, +without creating any confusion?" + +Mr. Simlins went up and shortly afterwards went away. But if Faith +anticipated a good long lesson that afternoon, to make up for the +morning and afternoon in which she had had none--albeit the morning had +been better than lessons--she was to be disappointed. Hardly was the +dinner over, and the muffins mixed which she was determined should make +amends for Mr. Linden's poor breakfast, when Miss Harrison came; full +of sorrow, and sympathy, and hope. + +"Faith don't look a bit the worse, ma'am," she said to Mrs. Derrick. + +"She couldn't look anyway but just so," her mother said with a fond +glance. + +"Why she _could_ look pale, but I don't see that she does even +that;--unless, perhaps, just such a _tingy_ paleness as is rather +becoming than otherwise. Dear Mrs. Derrick, I hope you have forgiven +Julius?" + +It was a sorrowful smile that met her words, and eyes that grew dim and +looked away. + +"I suppose I could forgive the whole world--since he didn't do any more +harm," Mrs. Derrick said with her wonted gentleness. "But I wouldn't +see her go with him again, Miss Sophy--if that's what you call +forgiveness." + +"Why not? Dear Mrs. Derrick!"-- + +"Why not?"--said the good lady--"why Faith's used to being taken care +of, Miss Sophy--and I'm used to seeing it." + +"My dear Mrs. Derrick!"--Miss Harrison exclaimed out of breath,--"do +you think she was not taken care of? Julius knows his horses, and he is +a capital hand with them; he says himself he thinks he should have +brought them to, if that little wretch of a boy hadn't thrown op his +nat before their eyes. No horses would stand that, you know. And the +best man in the world, and the best driver, can't be _certain_ of his +horses, Mrs. Derrick. Not take care of her!--" + +"I don't mean to say that he didn't mean to!" said Mrs Derrick quietly, +"but I don't think he knows how. You needn't look so, Miss Sophy--I'm +not saying a word against your brother. But Faith's only part of the +world to him--and she's the whole of it to me. He should have taken +horses he _was_ sure of," said Mrs. Derrick with a little flush on her +cheek. + +"I don't know," said Miss Harrison softly, and looking at Faith,--"I +don't know just what part of the world she is to him--but I think, and +am very sure, he would have thrown himself oat rather than her. Can +anybody do more? Can any _man_ do more, Mrs. Derrick?" she said +smiling. "I know you are her mother; and though I am not her mother, I +think of her just as you do." + +"I can't say what any man can do," said Mrs. Derrick pleasantly,--"I +havent tried many. And you can't tell how I feel, Miss Sophy it isn't +cross, if it sounds so. How long has Dr. Harrison had those horses?" + +"Why, not very long," said Miss Harrison,--"he hasn't been home long +himself. But he's a good judge of horses," she said, a little less sure +of her ground than in the former part of the conversation. Perhaps she +was not sorry to have it interrupted. + +"My dear Mrs. Derrick!" said Mr. Somers entering,--"I have come to +congratulate you! Miss Harrison, I see, is before me in this +pleasant--a--office. Miss Faith!--I am glad to see you looking so well +after your overthrow." Mr. Somers went round shaking hands as he +spoke.--"Mrs. Somers will be here presently to join me--she stopped a +few minutes by the way. Mrs. Somers always has more business on hand +than I can--a--keep up with. Mrs. Derrick, I have rejoiced with you, +indeed, ma'am." + +Somers had managed to keep up with her business and him too, for she +came in before Mr. Somers had well taken the measure of his chair. She +walked up to Faith and kissed her, with a sort of glad energy, gave her +a comprehensive glance from head to foot, and then turned to Mrs. +Derrick with, + +"There's nothing amiss with _her_, after all.--Sophy, what excuses have +you brought in your bag?--it seems to be full." + +"I wish you'd make some for Julius, aunt Ellen--I can see Mrs. Derrick +has only half forgiven him." + +"Has she got so far as that?" said Mrs. Somers. + +"I don't know. Faith, _you_ might come and say something--you know if +it isn't true; and Mrs. Derrick will hear you." + +Faith was busy giving Mrs. Somers a chair, and certainly looked as if +_she_ had nobody to forgive anything in the wide world. + +"What do you want me to say, Sophy?" + +"Why, that Julius wasn't to blame." + +"I find it is still a disputed point, whether a man has a right to +break his own neck," said Mrs. Somers. "I think he hasn't, myself, but +most people don't agree with me. Mr. Somers thinks people may run away +alone or together, just as they've a mind. I don't know whether it's +the fees or the freedom that takes his fancy." + +"I suppose, my dear," said Mr. Somers, "a man may lawfully set out to +take a ride without intending to break his own neck, or anybody else's; +and find it done at the end, without blame to himself. I never was, I +hope, a promoter of--ha!--flighty marriages--to which you seem to +allude." + +"If he finds it done at the end, it isn't done very thoroughly," said +Mrs. Somers. "But Pattaquasset's growing up into a novel--last week +furnished with a hero, and this week with a heroine,--the course of +things can't run smooth now. So we may all look out for breakers--of +horses, I hope, among other things." + +"Oh aunt Ellen!"--was Miss Harrison's not gratified comment on this +speech. + +"I hope Mrs. Somers don't mean that we are to look out for breakers of +hearts, among the other things," said Mr. Somers. + +"Look out for them? to be sure!" said Miss Harrison;--"always and +everywhere. What would the world be without them?" + +"The world would not be heart-broken," said Mrs. Somers. "Faith--which +of you came to first? who picked you up?" + +"I don't know, Mrs. Somers. Sam Stoutenburgh was passing just at the +time and Dr. Harrison called him. I don't know who picked me up." + +"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mrs. Somers,--"well, he's made, if nobody else +is! He'll bless Julius for the rest of his life for giving him such a +chance. Do you know how that boy watches you, Faith?--I mean to speak +to Mr. Linden about it the very first time I see him." + +Something in this speech called forth Faith's colour. She had spoken +Sam's name herself with the simplest unchanging face; but now the +flushes came and came abundantly. + +"I don't know what good that would do, Mrs. Somers." + +"Nor I--till I try," said the lady smiling at her. "But if the mere +suggestion is so powerful, what may not the reality do? I'll say one +thing for Mr. Linden--he makes all those boys come into church and get +seated before the service begins--which nobody else ever did yet; if +they ever tried. I was curious to see how it would be last Sunday when +he wasn't there--but they were more punctual than ever. It's quite a +comfort--if there's anything I do hate to see, it's a troop of men and +boys outside the door when they ought to be in. What are you afraid +he'll say to Sam, Faith?" + +Faith's eyes were looking down. The question brought them up, and then +her smile was as frank as her blushes had been. "I am not afraid he'll +say anything, Mrs. Somers." + +"I don't know why he should, my dear," said Mr. Somers. "We all like to +use our eyes--you can't very well blame a boy." + +"O Mr. Somers!" said his wife--with that air which a woman puts on when +she says she believes, what she wouldn't for the world say _if_ she +believed,--"of course you think that! Don't I know how you broke your +heart after a green veil when you were in college? I don't think it's +been right whole since. Now I have some feeling for Sam--or his future +wife." + +"Well Mrs. Derrick, what shall I tell Julius?" said Miss Harrison as +she rose to go. + +"Tell him?" said Mrs. Derrick enquiringly. "He wouldn't care to hear +anything about me, if you did tell him, Miss Sophy." + +"Well!--he'll have to come and talk to you himself," said Miss +Harrison. "Faith, stand up for the right." + +Faith went to the door with her and returned ushering in a new-comer, +even the wife of Farmer Davids. + +"Husband wanted me to come and see how Mr. Linden was," she said in +meek explanation of her appearance. "He would have come hisself, but he +was forced to be in the field, and he said he wisht I'd come myself. +How is he, ma'am?" + +"I hope he's better,"--said Mrs. Derrick, giving her new visiter a kind +reception and a seat. "He don't get strong very fast. How are you all +at home, Mrs. Davids?" + +"We're considerable comfortable, ma'am," said Mrs. Davids taking the +chair in an unobtrusive spirit. "I am happy to have the occasion to +make your acquaintance better. Husband would have come hisself, only he +couldn't. Mr. Linden don't get strong?" + +"Not very fast," said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't know just when the doctor +'ll let him go to school again. I suppose you're anxious about Phil, +Mrs. Davids. But all the boys have to be out, now." + +"Yes ma'am, we're anxious--and husband is anxious about Mr. Linden, and +he sent me to know. But there is such a change in Phil, ma'am,"--she +said turning to Mrs. Somers,--"such a change, you wouldn't believe! he +never would go to school before--not regular--not for nobody--not for +his father, nor for me; and it was mor'n my life was worth. My husband, +he said it was my fault; but I don't know how 'twas! And now sir, he +don't want a word spoke to him! he's off before it's time in the +morning--and he learns too, for I catch him at it; and my husband don't +think anything in the world is too good for Mr. Linden; nor of course, +I s'pose, I don't. But however he's managed or overcome it, to make +Phil draw in harness, _I _don't know, and husband says he don't. And +ma'am, was those pears good? or what _does_ Mr. Linden like? If it's on +the farm he'll get it." + +It would have taken more conversational skill than Mrs. Derrick +possessed, to give a summary answer to all this; but her simplicity +answered as well, after all. + +"I guess he'll like what you've been saying better than anything, Mrs. +Davids; I'll tell him." + +"Do," said Mrs. Davids. "I wisht you would. Husband would have said it +completer. He thinks ma'am," (turning to Mrs. Somers again) "that Mr. +Linden is a wonderful man! And I'm of the opinion he's handsome." + +Faith had been sitting, quiet and demure, for some time past, hearing +what was going on; but this last sentence drove her to the right about +like lightning. She found something to do in another part of the room. + +"Did you ever hear anybody say he wasn't?" said Mrs. Somers. "Mr. +Somers, it's time we were going. Ah--there's Squire Stoutenburgh! +Faith--come here!" + +And Squire Stoutenburgh, appearing in the doorway like the worthy +father of his stout son, bowed to the company. + +"Well Mrs. Derrick--" he said,--"good day Mr. Somers--_and_ Mrs. +Somers! I beg pardon--Well Miss Faith! I'm glad it is well, I'm sure. +My dear, how do you do?" + +"Why very well, sir!" said Faith. + +"Why so it is!" said Squire Stoutenburgh taking hold of both her hands +and looking at her. "Sam said you were as pale as a ghost when he +carried you down to the spring--but Sam don't always see straight when +he's excited. You needn't be frightened if I kiss you, my dear you know +I always do, and always have--since you were a year old," said the +Squire as he took his wonted privilege. + +Faith gravely submitted, not letting the Squire however get any further +than her cheek; which ought to have contented him. + +"Sam was very good to me yesterday, sir," she answered. + +"I think, Squire," said Mr. Somers, "your son was--a--in luck, as we +say. A fortunate chance! What most people would have thought +no--a--disagreeable office." + +"Sam's a good boy--" said his father,--"a very good boy--always was. He +does crow a little over Dr. Harrison, I must say. But what shall we do +with the doctor, Mr. Somers?--what does he deserve for running away +with our Pattaquasset roses and turning them into meadow lilies? Yes, +yes, Miss Faith--you may look as pink as you please now--it won't help +the matter. What shall we do with him, sir? My dear," said Squire +Stoutenburgh seating Faith by his side and dropping his voice, "you're +growing wonderfully like your father!" + +A changed, sweet glance of Faith's eyes answered him. + +"Yes!"--the Squire repeated meditatively and looking at her.--"Ah he +was a fine man! I used to think he couldn't be better--but I s'pose he +is now. My dear, you needn't wonder when I tell you that I thought more +of your mother last night than I did of you. But you don't remember all +about that. Well--I shall go home and tell Mrs. Stoutenburgh that +you're as pretty as a posie, and then she won't care what else is the +matter," he said, getting up again. "Mrs. Somers, I see the parson +durstn't say a word about Dr. Harrison before you." + +"I--I declare I don't think Dr. Harrison is very much to be blamed, +Squire," said the parson thus called upon. "And Mrs. Somers is so well +able to speak for herself--I have no doubt, Squire Stoutenburgh, if it +wasn't for Mrs. Somers,--I dare say I might like to do as much as the +doctor did, myself!" + +"Bless my life!" said Squire Stoutenburgh, "I can't stay to be a party +to confidences of that sort!--I must go!--" and he departed, laughing +and followed by the two others. + +But even as they went, Faith, who with her mother had accompanied them +to the door, was electrified somewhat doubtfully at the vision of Miss +Deacon just within the gate. Miss Cecilia came forward, also with some +doubt upon her spirit, to judge by her air. But Faith's greeting of her +was so pleasant and kind, though she could not prevent its being grave, +that the young lady evidently took heart. Being reassured, she sat and +talked at leisure, and at length, using her eyes as well as her tongue; +thus making herself mistress of all the truth she could get at, and of +some more. She was thorough in her investigations as to all the drama +of the last seven days, and all and each of the actors therein; and at +the close of her visit declared that "Sam had been a great fool to go +away, and that she had told him so before"; and departed at last with +her head full of Dr Harrison. + +But detentions were not over. Miss Bezac came before Miss Deacon was +quit of the parlour; and before Miss Bezac had been two minutes there, +other members of the Pattaquasset community came pouring in. Everybody +must see Faith, hear particulars, discuss realities and possibilities +of the accident, and know how Mr. Linden was getting along. The hours +of the afternoon waned away; but people came as people went; and it was +not till long shadows and slant sunbeams began to give note of supper +time, that the influx lessened and the friends gathered in Mrs. +Derrick's parlour began to drop away without others stepping in to take +their place. + +"Faith," said her mother when they were at last alone, "I can't bear +this any longer! I shall go crazy if I hear that story one other time +to-night!" And she put her arms round Faith, and leaned her head +wearily on her shoulder. "I'll sit up to tea," she went on presently, +"and then if the rest of the town comes, you'll have to see 'em--for I +can't!" + +Faith gently put her into a chair and holding her in her arms stooped +over her. "Mother"--the words were as soft as the kisses which came +between,--"you mustn't mind it so much. Sit up to tea! Why I have made +some of the best muffins that ever were seen." + +"Child!" said her mother in a low voice, "I felt this morning as if I +had been as near death as you had!"--and if the words needed any +emphasis, they had it in the way Mrs. Derrick leaned her head against +Faith and was silent. But not for long. She got up, and kissing Faith +two or three times, said, "My pretty child!" in a tone that indeed told +of possible heartbreak; and then half holding her, half held by her, +drew her on into the tea-room. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + + +It so happened that the first griddleful of muffins did not do credit +to their raising--(or to their bringing up, elegant reader!)--therefore +Mr. Linden's teatray waited for the second. Of course the other tea +waited too. Mrs. Derrick walked out into the kitchen to see _what_ was +the matter with the griddle; Faith discovered that one spoon on the +tray looked dull, and went to the spoonbasket to change it. Thus +occupied, and giving little reprehensive glances at the spoons +generally, and mental admonitions to Cindy, with the open closet door +half screening her from the rest of the room, she was startled--not by +the opening of another door, but by these words,-- + +"Miss Faith, shall I carry this tray upstairs?" + +To this day it is uncertain what sort of a spoon Faith brought +back!--or indeed whether she brought any at all. There was one flash of +gladness in her cheek and her eye, with the exclamation, "Mr. +Linden!"--then she came from the closet just her old little self. + +"Are you well enough to be down stairs, sir?" + +"In whose estimation, ma'am?" + +"Because if you are, Mr. Linden," she said with a face of laughing +pleasure, "won't you please come into the other room?" + +"I think not," he said, laughing a little too,--if the exertion of +coming down had made him pale, the pleasure partly concealed it. "I +will take a chair here, if you please. Am I alone, of all Pattaquasset, +to be forbidden to pay my respects to you to-night? Miss Faith, how do +you do?" + +"I am very well. But Mr. Linden, if you will please come into the other +room, there is an easy chair there. Please do! this room is cold, for +the fire got down while we were seeing people." + +She led the way as she spoke, without waiting for another denial; +pushed the table and a great chair of state, or of ease, in the +sitting-room, into closer neighbourhood; and renewed the brilliancy of +the fire. Then lit up the lamp and cleared books away from the table; +all done with quick alacrity. + +"That will do almost as well as the couch, won't it?" she said; and +then repeated in gentler tones her question, "Are you well enough to be +down, Mr. Linden?" + +"I don't know, Miss Faith!--I am well enough to want to be down. How +can you let the charms of society divert your mind from your books for +a whole afternoon? Have you been so studious for the last few days only +because you had nothing else to do?" + +She laughed at the question, and went off, leaving Mr. Linden in a +region of comfort. More comfort came soon in the shape of the teatray, +borne by Cindy; then Mrs. Derrick; and lastly Faith herself +appeared--bearing a plate of the muffins, perfect this time, and +delicate as they had need to be for a delicate appetite. Mr. Linden was +presently served with one of these and a cup of smoking tea; and Faith +thought, and her look half said it, that being down stairs would do him +no harm. Certainly the surprise and pleasure of such company to tea did +Mrs. Derrick good, whoever else missed it; though it is presumable no +one did. The pleasant sighing of the wind round the house and in the +chimney (it sighed alone for that evening) the sparkling of the fire, +the singing of the maple or hickory sticks, the comfortable atmosphere +of tea and muffins diffused, like the firelight, all through the room; +gave as fair an assemblage of creature comforts as need be wished; and +the atmosphere of talk was as bright, and savoury, and glowing too, in +its way; though the way was quiet. Mr. Linden amused himself (and +Faith) by giving her little lessons in the way she would have to talk +in those French "noonspells" she had in prospect: making Mrs. Derrick +laugh with the queer sounding words and sentences, and keeping Faith +interested to that point, that if he had not attended to her tea as +well, she would scarce have got any. + +"I shall not be hard upon you at first," he said smiling,--"when I see +you sitting in silent despair because you want something at my end of +the table, I will help you out with a 'que voulez-vous, mademoiselle?' +and perhaps with a 'voulez-vous?' this or that. But after a week or +two, Miss Faith, if you go without any dinner, it will not move me in +the least." + +Faith looked as if she would gladly forego her dinner to escape the +French asking for it, and yet not quite so neither. But this ordeal was +more terrible to her by far than all the rest; she could face them, +indeed, they had ceased to be anything but pleasure--or pleasure with a +spice that enhanced it; but at this she trembled. To the above +speech--or threat,--she simply answered, + +"I shall be so glad to see you come home to tea, Mr. Linden!" + +"And so glad to see me go away from dinner!" + +"I didn't say that." + +"You will--" said Mr. Linden,--"I can imagine you falling back in your +chair and exclaiming, 'Ah, quand voulez-vous partir, monsieur!'--which +of course will make it extremely difficult for me to remain a moment +longer." + +"I don't think you can imagine me doing it," said Faith laughing. "I +can't imagine myself." + +"That proves nothing. Only don't ever say to me, 'Monsieur! partez à +l'instant!'--because--" + +"Because what, Mr. Linden?" said Faith seriously. + +"Because we might disagree upon that point," he said with rather a +demure arch of his eyebrows. Faith's full silver rang out, softly. + +"You see!" she said. "It's beginning already. I don't know in the least +what you are talking about!" + +"No--you do not," was the laughing reply. "But Miss Faith, if I am kept +at home long enough, and society keeps at home too, instead of coming +between us and our exercises, those conversations will seem less +terrible by the time they begin. I should certainly get you a pocket +dictionary, but I prefer to be that myself. How far can you ride on +horseback at once?" + +"On horseback?" said Faith, much as if those words had been also +French, or an algebraical puzzle. + +"That was what I said." + +"I know that was what you said--I didn't know what you meant, Mr. +Linden. I have never been really on horseback but a few times in my +life--then I rode a few miles--I don't know exactly how many." + +"I wonder people don't do it more"--said Mrs. Derrick. "When I was a +girl that was the common way of getting about; and nobody ever got +thrown, neither." + +"Wouldn't that be the pleasantest way of getting to Mattabeeset?" said +Mr. Linden. + +An illumination answered him first; then "Oh, yes!" + +"I want you to see what is to be seen over there," he said,--"shall we +go some day, if I get well enough before cold weather?" + +Faith's quiet words of agreeing to this proposal were declared to be a +sham by her eyes, cheeks, lips and brow, every one of which was giving +testimony after a different fashion. + +At this moment the door opened. It happened that Dr. Harrison had +encountered Cindy at the hall door, where she was either loitering to +catch snatches of indoor conversation, or waiting to entrap Jem Waters. +But there she was, and being asked for Mr. Linden replied that he was +down stairs, and without more ceremony ushered the doctor in; and +entering the whole view lay before him in its freshness. Mrs. Derrick, +complacent and comfortable, sat behind the no-longer-wanted tea-tray, +listening and playing with a spoon. Faith's face, though considering +her unfinished muffin, was brilliant with rosy pleasure; while the fire +which she had for some time forgotten to mend, lay in a state of +powerful inaction, a mass of living coals and smoking brands. In the +glow of that stood the easy chair, and therein Mr. Linden, although +with the air and attitude of one wanting both rest and strength, was +considering with rather unbent lips no less a subject than--One and +Somewhat!--further the doctor's eyes could not read. The precise +direction of those other eyes was shaded. The doctor came up and stood +beside them. + +"Did I order you to stay up stairs?" he said in soft, measured +syllables, without having spoken to anybody else. + +"Good evening, doctor!" said Mr. Linden offering his hand. "As I meet +you half way, please excuse me for keeping my seat." + +From that hand, the doctor passed to Faith's; which was taken and held, +just enough to say all he wished to say; which, be it remarked in +passing, was a good deal. + +"May I approach Mrs. Derrick?" said he then, turning round to Mr. +Linden with a cool, funny, careless, yet good-humoured, doubt upon his +face. + +"What is the present state of your nerves?" + +"Depending upon your answer, of course!--which the ordinary rules of +society forbid me to wait for. Madam!--are you in sufficient charity +with me to give me a cup of tea?" + +"Yes, doctor--if the tea's good enough," said Mrs. Derrick with her +usual quietness. "And if it isn't I'll have some more." So saying she +got up and went towards the kitchen to call Cindy. The doctor skilfully +intercepted this movement, placing himself in her way. + +"May I ask, where you are going?" he said with a sort of gentle +kindliness he did not always put on. + +"Why to get some tea that's fit to give you, doctor. I don't think this +is." + +"Will you give me something else?" + +"I'll give you that first," said Mrs. Derrick--"I'll see about the +rest." And passing out into the kitchen she gave her orders about the +teapot, and a quiet little injunction to Faith to go in and sit down. + +"Mother, you're tired," said Faith. "Let me see about the tea!" + +"I guess I will!" said Mrs. Derrick. "I'm not going to have the house +stand up on one end just because Dr. Harrison wants his tea. You go +off, pretty child,--if you stay here he'll think you're baking muffins +for him, and I don't choose he should." + +"Why I would do it, mother," said Faith. She went off, however, into +the other room and sat down gravely, quite the other side of the +fireplace from the tea-table. Dr. Harrison was standing on the rug with +his back to the fire, and followed her with his eye. + +"How do you do?" he said in a softened voice, stepping a step nearer to +her. She looked up and gave him a frank and kind "very well!" + +Was it altogether professional, the way in which he took up her hand +and held it an instant? + +"Cool, and quiet," he said. "It's all right. I didn't frighten you out +of your wits yesterday?" + +The "no, sir," was in a different tone. + +"Do you suppose," he said, "that your mother will ever bear the sight +of me again?" + +"Why I hope so, sir," said Faith smiling. + +"I don't know!" he said. "I wonder if I have been so much more wicked +than I knew of? I don't think I have. I couldn't have punished myself +any more." + +Mrs. Derrick came in, followed by teapot and muffins, and having with +her usual politeness requested the doctor to take a seat at the table, +she proceeded to pour him out a cup of tea, nor even stinted him in +sugar. + +"If I stay at home according to your orders," said Mr. Linden, "I shall +have all the trustees after me." + +"You aren't just the person they ought to be after," said the doctor. +"Mrs. Derrick, I don't know why we never have anything at our house so +good as this." The doctor was discussing a buttered muffin with +satisfaction that was evidently unfeigned. + +Mrs. Derrick knew why--but she wouldn't tell him, though exulting in +her own knowledge. A low knock at the parlour door announced Reuben +Taylor. + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Derrick--" he said,--"but I went"-- + +"I am here, Reuben," said Mr. Linden. + +The boy stayed not for more compliments then, but passing the ladies +and the doctor with a collective bow, and "good evening, Miss Faith," +went round with a quick step and a glad face to Mr. Linden. And +kneeling down by him, with one hand on his shoulder, gave him the post +despatches, and asked and answered questions not very loud but very +earnestly. That was a phasis of Reuben Dr. Harrison had not seen +before. He took good and broad note of it, though nothing interrupted +the doctor's muffin--or muffins, for they were plural. Neither did he +interrupt anything that was going on. + +"Are you better, sir? are you really well enough to be down +stairs?"--Dr. Harrison would hardly have known the voice. And the +answering tone was of the gentlest and kindest, though the words failed +to reach the doctor's ears. Some directions, or commissions, +apparently, Mr. Linden gave for a few minutes, and then Reuben rose to +his feet with a long breath that spoke a mind very much relieved. He +paused for a moment on his way out, opposite Faith, as if he wanted a +word in that quarter; but perhaps the doctor's presence forbade, for +all the congratulation that Reuben gave her was in his face and bow. +That did not satisfy Faith if it did him. She jumped up and gave him +her hand, almost affectionately. + +"You see I am safe and well, Reuben." + +"I am so thankful, Miss Faith!" And the words said not half. + +The doctor had finished his muffins and was standing before the fire +again. "Have you found out yet, my man," he said in a somewhat amused +voice,--"whose friend you are?" + +The words jarred--and the colour on Reuben's face was of a different +tint from that which had answered Faith. It was with his usual reserved +manner, though nothing could be more civil, that he said, "No sir--no +more than I knew before." But the respect was from Reuben as a boy to +Dr. Harrison as a man. Faith's eye glanced from one to the other, and +then she said, "What do you mean, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Only a play of words," said the doctor lightly. "This young fellow is +very cautious of making professions--as I have found." + +"He has no need, sir," said Faith. She quitted as she spoke, the boy's +hand which she had held until then, and came back to her seat. The +words were spoken quietly enough and with as gentle a face, and yet +with somewhat in the manner of both that met and fully answered all the +bearing of the doctor's. + +"You need not wait, Reuben," said his teacher--"I shall see you again +by and by." + +"Who is that?" said the doctor as Reuben went out. + +"One of my body-guard," said Mr. Linden, with lips not yet at rest from +their amused look. + +"Are you waited upon by a Fehm-gericht? or may the members be known by +the uninitiated?" + +"I beg pardon!" said Mr. Linden,--"but as you seemed to know him, and +as you really did know his name a week ago--That is Reuben Taylor, Dr. +Harrison." + +"So do I beg pardon! His name I do know, of course--as I have had +occasion; but the essence of my enquiry remains in its integrity. _Him_ +I do not know. Where and to whom does he belong?" + +"He is one of those of whom we spoke this morning," said Mr. Linden. +"True servant of God is his title--to Him does Reuben belong. His home +here is a little hut on the outskirts of Pattaquasset, his father a +poor fisherman." + +There was a minute's silence, all round. + +"May I ask for a little enlightening, Miss Derrick?" said the doctor. +"What do you mean, if you will be so good as to let me know,--by a +person who 'does not need' to make professions." + +Faith hesitated. + +"Will you please say first, Dr. Harrison, just what you mean by +'professions?'" she said somewhat timidly. + +"I shall shelter myself under your meaning," said he looking at her. +"Fact is, I am not good at definitions--I don't half the time know what +I'm saying myself." + +Faith cast an involuntary glance for help towards Mr. Linden; but +getting none she came back to the doctor and the question, blushing a +good deal. + +"I think," she said, "professions are telling people what you wish them +to believe of you." + +The doctor looked comical, also threw a glance in the direction of Mr. +Linden, but put his next question seriously. + +"Why do you say this Reuben Taylor does not need to make professions? +according to this definition." + +"Because those who know him know what he is, without them." + +"But do you mean that there is no use in making professions? How are +you to know what a man is?" + +"Unless he tells you?" said Faith smiling. + +The doctor stood, half smiling; evidently revolving more thoughts than +of one kind. With a face from which every shadow was banished he +suddenly took a seat by Mrs. Derrick. + +"Do you know," he said with gentle pleasantness of manner and +expression, "how much better man I should be if I should come here and +get only one definition a day from your little daughter?" + +"What one has she given you now?" said Mrs. Derrick, whose mind +evidently stood in abeyance upon this speech. + +"One you didn't hear, ma'am. It was a definition of me, to myself. It +isn't the first," said the doctor gravely. "Mrs. Derrick, are you +friends with me?" + +"As much as I ever was," said Mrs. Derrick, smilingly. "I always +thought you wanted putting in order." + +"How did you know that?" + +"Why, because you were out of order," said Mrs. Derrick, knitting away. +The doctor uttered the lowest of whistles and looked down at his boot. + +"It's because of that unlucky dog!" he muttered. "Linden--" (glancing +up from under his eyebrows) "when I was a boy, I set my dog on Miss +Faith's cat." + +"Felt yourself called upon to uphold natural antipathies--" + +"Miss Faith, have you a cat now?" said the doctor looking over to her. + +"No, sir." + +"And I have no dog!" said the doctor. "I have only horses. If I could +manage to do without animals altogether,--Mrs. Derrick, have you +forgiven me?" This last was in a changed tone. + +"I don't want to talk about it, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick very soberly. + +"About forgiving me?" he said as soberly. + +"And I don't mean to." + +"Nor I," said the doctor quietly; "but you are going to inflict more +punishment on me than I deserve." + +"What am I going to do?" said Mrs. Derrick. "If you know, I don't." + +"Refuse to give me your hand, perhaps." + +"I never did that to anybody, yet," she said pleasantly. + +"Then you must let me do as we do in another country." + +He bent his face to her hand as he spoke, and kissed it. There was no +mockery in the action. Done by some people it would have been +ridiculous. By Dr. Harrison, in the circumstances, it was in the +highest degree graceful. It spoke sympathy, penitence, respect, manly +confession, and submission, too simply not to be what it certainly was +in some measure, a true expression of feeling. Mrs. Derrick on her part +looked amused,--her old recollections of the boy constantly tinged her +impressions of the man; and perhaps not without reason. + +"You're as like yourself as ever you can be, doctor!" she said, smiling +at him. "How you used to try to get round me!" + +"I don't remember!" said the doctor. "I am sure I never succeeded, Mrs. +Derrick?" + +"I'm afraid you did, sometimes," she said, shaking her head. He smiled +a little, and turned the other way. + +"Linden, I've been considering the German question." + +"Will it please you to state the result?" + +"This!" said the doctor. "I have come to the conclusion,--that in order +to be One and Somewhat, it is necessary to begin by being Nought and +All--Thus ranging myself in security on _both_ sides of a great abyss +of metaphysics. What do you think? Unphilosophical?" + +"Unsafe--" said Mr. Linden. "And impossible." + +"Humph?"--said the doctor. "Nothing is impossible in +metaphysics--because you may be on both sides of an abyss, and in the +bottom of it!--at once--and without knowing where you are. The angel +that rode Milton's sunbeam, you know, was no time at all going from +heaven to earth; and I suppose he went the other way as quick." + +"I don't see the abyss in that case," said Mr. Linden,--"but + + ----'Uriel to his charge + Returned on that bright beam'-- + +so probably he did." + +"Yes"--said the doctor.--"And my meaning skipped the abyss,--also on a +sunbeam. It referred to the unsubstantial means of travelling in use +among metaphysicians." + +"And among angels." + +"That reminds me," said the doctor. And quitting his stand on the rug, +which he had taken again, he went over to Faith and sat down by her. + +"Is the Nightingale flourishing on her rose-bush to-day?" + +"What, sir?" said Faith, her eyes opening at him a little. + +"I beg pardon!" said the doctor. "I have been living in a part of the +world, Miss Derrick, where it is the fashion to call things not by +their right names. I have got a foolish habit of it. Do you feel quite +recovered?" + +"Quite. I'm a little tired to-night, perhaps." + +"I see you are, and I'll not detain you. Mrs. Custers wants to see you +again." He had dropped all banter, and was speaking to her quietly, +respectfully, kindly, as he should speak; in a lowered tone, but not so +low as to be unheard by others than her. + +"I will try to see her again soon--I will try to go very soon," she +answered. + +"Would you be afraid to go with my father's old stand-bys?--they are +safe!"-- + +"I cannot do that, Dr. Harrison--but I will try to see her soon." + +"Can you go without riding?" + +"No," she said smiling; "but I must find some other way." + +"I won't press that point," said the doctor. "I can't blame you. I must +bear that. But--I want for my own sake to have the honour of a little +talk with you--I want to explain to you one or two things. Shall you be +at leisure to-morrow afternoon?" + +"I am hardly _at leisure_ any time, Dr. Harrison. I do not suppose I +shall be particularly busy then." + +"Then will you take that time for a walk?" + +Faith hesitated. "I have very little time, sir." + +"But you take time to go out?" + +"Not much." + +"I will not ask much. A little will do; and so much you owe to skyey +influences. You will not refuse me that?" + +"I will go, Dr. Harrison," Faith answered after an instant a little +soberly. He rose up then; proposed to attend upon Mr. Linden, and they +went up stairs together. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + + +Faith was half ready to wish the next day might be rainy; but it rose +fair and bright. She must go to walk, probably; and visiters might +come. The only thing to be done was to despatch her ordinary duties as +quick as possible, prepare her French exercise, and go to her teacher +early. Which she did. + +She came in with a face as bright as the day, although a little less +ready to look in everybody's eyes. There were enough things ready for +her. Lessons were pressed rather more steadily than usual, perhaps +because they had been neglected a little for the last two days--or +hindered; and it was not till one book and another had done its work, +till the exercise was copied and various figure puzzles disposed of, +that Mr. Linden told her he thought a talking exercise ought to come +next,--if she had one ready he should like to have the benefit of it. + +"You are tired, Mr. Linden!" said Faith quickly. + +"You may begin by giving me the grounds of that conclusion." + +"I don't know," she said half laughing,--"I don't see it; but that +don't make me know. I was afraid you were tired with this work." + +"Very unsafe, Miss Faith, to build up such a superstructure upon +grounds that you neither see nor know. I was immediately beginning to +question the style of my own explanations this morning." + +"Why, sir?" + +"If I seem tired, said explanations may have seemed--tiresome." + +She looked silently, with a smile, as if questioning the possibility of +his thinking so; and her answer did not go to that point. + +"You didn't seem tired, Mr. Linden--I had no reason for thinking so, I +suppose. I was only afraid. I was going to ask you what Dr. Harrison +meant last night by the angel riding upon a sunbeam? I saw you knew +what he meant." + +Mr. Linden got up and went for a book--then came back to his couch +again. + +"Precisely what Dr. Harrison meant, Miss Faith, I should not like to +say. What he referred to, was a part of Paradise Lost, where the angels +set to guard the earth have a messenger. + + 'Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even + On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star.'" + + +"Who is Uriel? an angel?" + +"Yes. He is called, + + 'The archangel Uriel, one of the seven + Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, + Stand ready at his command, and are his eyes. + That run through all the heavens, or down to the earth, + Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, + O'er sea and land.'" + + +Faith listened, evidently with a pleased ear. + +"But I suppose the angel could come as well without the sunbeam as with +it?" + +"I suppose so!" he said smiling. "In my belief, angels go where the +sunbeams do not. But Milton chose to name Uriel as the special regent +of the sun, and so passing to and fro on its rays." + +"What do you mean by 'regent,' Mr. Linden?" + +"A regent is one appointed to rule in place of the king." + +"But that don't seem to me true, Mr. Linden," said Faith after a little +meditation. + +"What, and why?" + +Faith blushed at finding herself 'in for it,' but went on. + +"I don't suppose the sun wants anybody to rule it or to take care of +it, under its Maker?" + +"Yet it may please him to have guardian spirits there as well as +here,--about that we know not. In the Revelation, you know, an angel is +spoken of as 'standing in the sun,' and from that Milton took his idea. +Part of the description is very beautiful, at least;-- + + 'So spake the false dissembler unperceived; + For neither man nor angel can discern + Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks + Invisible, except to God alone, + By his permissive will, through heaven and earth. + And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps + At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity + Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill, + Where no ill seems: which now for once beguiled + Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held + The sharpest sighted spirit of all in heaven.'" + + +"Who is the person spoken of in the first line, Mr. Linden?" + +"Satan--applying to Uriel for guidance to the new created earth and its +inhabitants, on the same plea that Herod presented to the wise men." + +"But that's a story?" said Faith. + +"Yes. The Bible only tells the work done by him after he got here." + +"Mr. Linden, will you read that over once more for me." + +She listened with a face of absorbed intentness while it was read; then +looked away from the book with an unconscious but very audible sigh. + +"Well?" Mr. Linden said, smiling as he looked at her. + +"I like it very much!" was Faith's answer. + +"Is that what made you sigh?" + +"Sigh!" she said starting a little and colouring. "No,--I didn't mean +to sigh." + +"The fact is more than the intention. Whence came that?" + +"It was only--Please don't ask me, Mr. Linden. I can't tell you." + +He made no answer to that, but turning over the leaves read to her here +and there without much comment,--then asked her if she was tired of +hearing about angels. + +"I think I should never be tired!" said Faith. "But you must be, Mr. +Linden. Please," she said putting her hand gently on the book,--"don't +read for me any more. Is all the book like that?" + +"Not quite all--I have given you some bits that I particularly like, +but there is much more. You need not be uneasy about my being tired," +he said smiling; "if I were, by your own shewing I can have rest. +However, Miss Faith--lessons being the order of the day--will you read +French to me?" + +In her reading, Faith came to the description of the philosopher's +perplexity in finding that the birds would not pick up the crumbs he +threw to them on the roof as usual. He concluded the feathered things +were not more reason able than mankind, and had taken fright for +nothing. + + + +"J'allais fermer ma fenêtre sur cette réflexion, quand j'aperçois tout +à coup, dans l'espace lumineux qui s'étend à droite, l'ombre de deux +oreilles qui se dressent, puis une griffe qui s'avance, puis la tête +d'un chat tigré qui se montre à l'angle de la gouttière. Le drôle était +là en embuscade, espérant que les aniettes lui amèneraient du gibier. + +"Et moi qui accusais la couardise de mes hôtes! J'étais sûr qu'aucun +danger ne les menaçait! je croyais avoir bien regardé partout! je +n'avais oublié que le coin derrière moi! + +"Dans la vie comme sur les toits, que de malheurs arrivent pour avoir +oublié un seul coin!" + + + +Faith closed the book then, very much amused with the philosopher's +"chat tigré." + +"But often one can't see round the corner," she remarked. + +A little gesture of lips and brow, half asserted that if one could not, +_one_ could: but Mr. Linden only said, + +"Most true! Miss Faith. Nevertheless, the knowledge that there _are_ +corners is not to be despised." + +"I don't know. I shouldn't like to live always in fear of seeing the +shadow of a cat's ears come in." + +"Have you quite outgrown the love of cats?" said Mr. Linden smiling. + +"No, but I was talking of the fear of corners," she said with an +answering smile. "I don't think I want to remember the corners, Mr. +Linden." + +"I don't think I want you should. Philosophers and birds, you know, go +through the world on different principles." + +She laughed a little at that, gave the hearth a parting brush, and went +off to dinner. + +Business claimed its place after dinner, business of a less pleasant +kind, quite up to the time when Faith must put on her bonnet to walk +with Dr. Harrison. + +Faith had no great mind to the walk, but she couldn't help finding it +pleasant. The open air was very sweet and bracing; the exercise was +inspiriting, and the threatened talk went well with both. There was +nothing whatever formidable about it; the words and thoughts seemed to +play, like the sunlight, on anything that came in their way. Dr. +Harrison knew how to make a walk or a talk pleasant, even to Faith, it +seemed. Whatever she had at any time seen in him that she did not like, +was out of sight; pleasant, gentle, intelligent, grave, he was +constantly supplying ear and mind with words and things that were worth +the having. Probably he had discovered her eager thirst for knowledge; +for he furnished her daintily with bits of many a kind, from his own +stores which were large. She did not know there was any design in this; +she knew only that the steps were taken very easily in that walk. So +pleasant it was that Faith was in no haste to turn, in no mood to +quicken her pace. But something else was on her mind,--and must come +out. + +"Dr. Harrison,"--she said when they were in a quiet part of the way, +with nobody near, "may I speak to you about something?--that perhaps +you won't like?" + +"You can speak of nothing I should not like--to hear," he said with +gentle assurance. + +"Dr. Harrison--" said Faith, speaking as if the recollection touched +her,--"when you and I were thrown out in that meadow the other day and +came so near losing our lives--if the _almost_ had been _quite_, if we +had both been killed,--_I_ should have been safe and well, I +believe.--How would it have been with you?" + +Dr. Harrison looked at her. + +"If I had gone in your company," he said, "I think it would hardly have +been ill with me." + +"Do you know so little as that?"--she said, in such a tone of sorrow +and pity as might have suited one of the 'ministering spirits' she had +been likened to. + +"I don't think I am as good as you are," the doctor said with a face +not unmoved. + +"Good!" said Faith. "What do you mean by goodness, Dr. Harrison?" + +"I shall have the worst of it if I try to go into definitions again," +he said smiling. "I think you will find what I mean, in consulting your +own thoughts." + +"Goodness?" said Faith again. "Do you remember the silver scale-armour +of that Lepisma, Dr. Harrison? _That_ is perfection. That is what God +means by goodness--not the outside things that every eye, or your own, +can see;--but when the far-down, far-back thoughts and imaginations of +your heart will bear _such_ looking at and be found faultless! Less +than that, God will not take from you, if you are going to heaven by +your own goodness." + +He looked at her. They had changed sides; and as fearless now as he, +_she_ was the speaker, and he had little to say. + +"I don't know much about these things, Miss Faith," he answered soberly. + +"I don't know much, Dr. Harrison," she said humbly. "But think what you +were near the other day." + +"I don't know!"--said he, as if making a clean breast of it. She paused. + +"Dr. Harrison, will a wise man leave such a matter in uncertainty?" + +"I am not wise," said he. "I am ignorant--in this." + +"You know you need not remain so." + +"That is not so certain! I have seen so much--of what you have seen so +little, my dear Miss Derrick, that you can scarce understand how light +the weight of most people's testimony is to me." + +"But there is the testimony of one higher," said Faith. "There is God's +own word?" + +"I don't know it." + +"_Won't_ you know it, sir?" + +"I will do anything you ask me in that voice," he said smiling at her. +"But after all one reads people and people's _professions_, miss +Faith;--and they make the first impression." + +"I dare say it is often not true," said Faith sadly. + +"_You_ are true," said he; "and you may say to me what you will, on +this subject or any other, and I will believe it." + +They walked a little distance in silence. + +"What are you thinking of?" said the doctor in a very gentle accent of +inquiry. + +"I am sorry--very sorry for you, Dr. Harrison." + +"Why?" said he taking her hand. + +"Because it seems to me you are not caring in earnest about this +matter." + +He kissed the hand, without asking permission. But it was done with a +grateful warm expression of feeling. + +"I will do whatever you tell me to do!" he said. + +How Faith wished she could send him to another adviser! But that she +could not. + +"Tell me," he repeated. "I will do it." The look and tone were earnest, +moved, and warm; she had hardly seen the like in Dr. Harrison before. + +"Then, Dr. Harrison, I wish you would read the Bible, with the +determination to do what you find there you ought." + +"I will," he said smiling. "And if I get into difficulty you must help +me." + +The rest of the way was extremely pleasant, after that; only it seemed +to Faith that they met all the world! First there was Cecilia Deacon, +whose eyes took good note, she thought, of both the walkers from head +to foot. Then they met at intervals every one of Faith's Sunday school +scholars; for every one of whom she had a glad greeting and word which +she must stop for, somewhat to the doctor's amused edification. Miss +Bezac happened, of all people, to be going up street when they were +going down; and her eyes looked rather with some wistful gravity upon +the pair, for all her pleasant nods to both. Then Mrs. Somers. + +"Well I think you are _Faith!_"--was her brisk remark,--"or +faith_less_--which is it? Julius, I heard a remarkable story about you +yesterday." + +"Aunt Ellen--I like to hear remarkable stories. Especially about +anything remarkable." + +"Well this isn't one of that sort," said Mrs. Somers. + +"I am sure you said--However, let's have it, of any sort." + +"I heard you had your pocket picked of a good opportunity," said Mrs. +Somers. "Does Mr. Linden expect to be out next week, Faith?" + +"I believe Dr. Harrison will not let him, Mrs. Somers." + +A little unverbalized sound answered that, and Mrs. Somers said good +evening and walked on. Faith thought that was the end, as they were +near her own door. But Dr. Harrison followed her in; and entering the +sitting-room, Faith found that her meetings were not over. There was no +less a person than Mrs. Stoutenburgh, and there also, regaling her eyes +and ears, were Mrs. Derrick and Mr. Linden. + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh was a fair, pretty, curly-haired woman, a good deal +younger than the Squire, intensely devoted to her own family, and very +partial to Mr. Linden--whom she had taken under her wing (figuratively) +from his first coming to Pattaquasset. The first sound Faith heard as +she opened the door was Mrs. Stoutenburgh's merry laugh at some remark +of his--then the lady jumped up and came towards her. + +"My dear Faith, how do you do?--Dr. Harrison--I half said I would never +speak to you again! Faith, how can you trust yourself with him for one +minute?" + +"Mrs. Stoutenburgh," said the doctor,--"I half thought I would shoot +myself!" + +"I guess that's as near as you'll come to it, on purpose," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh. "You needn't think I shall forget it--whenever I want +Faith to come and see me I shall tell Mr. Linden to bring her. He's +safe--or supposed to be," she added laughingly. + +"I hope that's as near to it as I shall ever come on purpose, or +_otherwise_, Mrs. Stoutenburgh!" said the doctor. "I think you should +judge me safer than Mr. Linden,--as appearances go." + +"Squire Deacon used to tell very hard stories of him when he first +came," said the lady--"and I _have_ heard a report or two since. I do +love to talk to him about it!--he always looks so grave, I think he +likes it." + +The laugh was mutual, whether the delight was or no. + +"Who is Squire Deacon?" said the doctor. "I should like to make his +acquaintance." + +Faith took off her bonnet, and then pulled off her gloves, +deliberately, and bestowed them on the table. + +"O he's a Pattaquasseter," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh--"haven't you seen +his sister? She admires you--more than I think she need," she added +mischievously. "But the Squire's been away for awhile,--he just got +home this afternoon." + +Faith had recourse to the fire. The doctor came round, took the tongs +from her and did the work; after which he took a somewhat succinct +leave of the assembly. + +"By the way, Linden," he said pausing by his chair a moment,--"I expect +to be in Quilipeak for a few days--I am very sorry, but I must. You +won't want me, I think. Limbre can do all that is necessary. I shall +see you Monday or Tuesday again." + +"Doctor!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh--"I want you to take me home. Mr. +Stoutenburgh always makes such a fuss if I'm out after dark and don't +bring anybody home to tea, that I never dare do it." + +"Will you trust yourself with me, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" said the doctor +standing in comical doubt. + +"Just wait a minute," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, as she went round with +her pretty, free, womanly manner, and laid her hand on Mr. Linden's +forehead and hands, just as if he had been one of her own boys. "I tell +you what--I don't think you cure him up half fast enough among you. If +I had him up at my house I'd take better care of him." + +"No, Mrs. Stoutenburgh, even you could not do that," he said looking up +at her. She stood still a moment. + +"You shouldn't look at me so," she said,--"I shall go home and feel +real bad for all the nonsense I've been talking. You know," she added, +with the mischievous look coming back, "I never did believe one word of +it--except--" and the sentence was finished softly. "Now I'm ready, +doctor--O Faith, I had a message for you, but Mr. Linden will tell you. +Good-bye. No, doctor--I'm not going to trust myself with you,--you're +going to trust yourself with me." + +Dr. Harrison was for once quiet, and went off without a repartee. + +Other eyes looked with a different anxiety at Mr. Linden then, and +another voice, more grave as well as more timid, asked, at his side, +"Are you not so well to-night, Mr. Linden?" + +He smiled, and gave her his hand by way of answer, before he spoke. + +"I think I am, Miss Faith--you know Mrs. Stoutenburgh has not seen me +before since I was quite well." + +She brought both hands to test the feeling of his, for an instant, +without speaking. + +"Mr. Linden, I heard what Dr. Harrison said--Don't you think I can do +instead of Dr. Limbre?" + +"Yes, Miss Faith--if you will be so good," he answered without +hesitation and with the simplest tone and manner. Her brow lightened +immediately; and happy and quiet as usual, and that was very happy, she +began to make her preparations for tea, clearing the table and rolling +it to its last night's position. In which last operation she had +assistance. Then she went off for her tea--and the lamp and the +fire-light shone again presently on the pleasant scene of last night. + +"Don't you want to hear your message, Miss Faith?" Mr. Linden said. + +"Yes, but I wasn't in a hurry, Mr. Linden. I supposed it would come." + +"It is in three parts. The first is nothing new; being merely that the +birthday of the young heir of the house of Stoutenburgh occurs on the +29th of November. Whether the second part is new, I--being a +stranger--cannot tell; but the day is to be graced with various +suitable festivities." + +"It's all new to me," said Faith laughing. + +"Of the novelty of the third part you also must judge," said Mr. Linden +with a smile. "The aforesaid young heir will consider the festivities +entirely incomplete without your presence--nay, will perhaps refuse to +have his birthday come at all, and wish that these 'happy returns' had +never had a beginning." + +Faith's laugh came with its full merry roll now, and she withal +coloured a little. + +"What must I do then, Mr. Linden?" + +"I generally incline to the merciful side, Miss Faith--I believe I +should advise you to go. Then I, not having such power in my hands, may +not appreciate its fascinations." + +"Such power? As what, Mr. Linden?" + +"I ought in conscience to tell you--" he went on without answering +her,--"it has been on my mind ever since, that the other night"--and +the look was grave for a minute--"the trophy of a broken rosebud was +picked up where you fell. And I had not the heart to reclaim it, Miss +Faith," Mr. Linden said, with a submissive air of confession. + +She looked at him with the prettiest look in the world, of grave, only +half conscious enquiry; and then the lost rosebud was more than +replaced in her cheeks. + +"That is the state of the case," Mr. Linden said, as gravely as if both +rosebuds had been out of sight and mind, "but your mother refuses to +go. And it seems that I also am wanted on the 29th; so if you please, +Miss Faith, I will try to see that you make the journey both ways in +safety." + +"I should like to go," said Faith quietly. "They are pleasant people." + +The tea things were withdrawn, and Cindy was no more needed there, and +Mrs. Derrick also had gone into the other part of the house to attend +to some business. Faith stood before the fire looking meditatively into +it. + +"I wish," she said slowly and soberly,--"Dr. Harrison would please to +talk to you instead of to me, Mr. Linden!" + +"Talk to me?" Mr. Linden repeated, looking at her. "About professions?" + +"No indeed!" said Faith, first astonished and then smiling,--"I mean +very different things. About religion, and what he thinks of it?" + +Rather soberly the words were received, and soberly answered, not at +once. + +"Do not let him say much to you on that last point, Miss Faith." + +"How can I help it, Mr. Linden?" she said instantly. + +"Forbid him, if need be. If he asks for information, and you choose to +give it, that is one thing,--you are not obliged to hear all the +skeptical views and arguments with which he is furnished. Your +statement of the truth has nothing to do with the grounds of his +unbelief." + +"But--" + +Faith got no further. She stood thinking of that afternoon's talk, and +of the certain possible hindrances to her following such advice. + +"I am talking a little in the dark, you know," Mr. Linden said,--"I am +only supposing what he may say and ask you to say; and I do not think +much of such conversation between any parties. Press home the +truth--and like David's pebble it may do its work; but in a fencing +match David might have found it harder to maintain his ground. And his +overthrow would not have touched the truth of his cause, nor perhaps +his own faith--yet the Philistine would have triumphed." + +"Thank you, Mr. Linden," she said with a grateful smile. "That is just +the truth. But, do you think Dr. Harrison is--exactly a Philistine?" + +"Not in all respects," he said smiling. "What do you mean by a +Philistine?" + +"I thought you put him in the place of _that_ Philistine," she said. + +"Yes, for the illustration. But I do not know him to be strictly a +_champion_ of unbelief, although he avows himself on that side. His +conversations with me have left me uncertain how far he would go." + +Faith was silent and looked thoughtful. + +"Have I touched any of your difficulties? May I hear any more?" + +"No--" she said. "I believe you have said all you can say. And it is +good for me." + +"I have not said all I _could_ say, but it is not easy for me to talk +to you about it at all. You see, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden smiling, +"there cannot be such an anomaly in nature as a philosophical bird--so +what am I to do?" + +Faith smiled a little and thought that as long as he gave her the +benefit of his philosophy, it did not much matter. Which recondite view +of the subject she did not put into words. + +The days began to roll on smoothly once more, subsiding into their old +uneventful flow. The flow of talk indeed had not quite subsided; but as +nothing came to throw any light on the point of the unknown sportsman +who chose his sport so strangely, curiosity took a modified, condensed +form; and the whole matter was stowed away in people's minds as the one +Pattaquasset mystery. Happy Pattaquasset! + +Even Mr. Linden's protracted confinement to the house made little +difference to most, he had been so little seen when he was able to be +out: only the boys had had his daylight hours; and where he had spent +those times of twilight and evening when he was not at home, no one +knew but the poor unknown class who mourned his absence as they had +blessed his presence, in secret. The boys were not silent,--but they +had the indemnification of going to see him, and of watching--or +sleeping--in his room at night, according to their various +dispositions. There came all his scholars on Sunday,--met by Faith on +her contrary way; there came the whole school by turns, and at all +hours. Indeed when once the embargo upon visiters was taken off, the +supply was great!--and without careful measures on the part of Mr. +Linden, French exercises would have been put aside with a witness. But +he made two or three rules, and carried them out. In the first place he +would see nobody before dinner, except the doctor; nor anybody after +tea, save the same privileged individual. In the second place, when he +was able to be out of his room without too much fatigue, the lessons +were carried on down stairs,--in the dining-room generally, as being +more private. There could both parties come and go without observation; +and often when Mrs. Derrick was entertaining a roomful, a sudden fall +of the thin partition would have revealed the very people they were +discussing, deep in some pretty point of information. Pretty those +lessons were! Faith's steps,--arithmetical, geographical, or what +other,--were swift, steady, and sure; herself indefatigable, her +teacher no less. If Mr. Linden had not quite come to be in her eyes "an +old school book," she was yet enough accustomed to his teaching and +animadversions to merge the binding in the book; and as to him, she +might have been one of his school boys, for the straightforward way in +which he opened paths of knowledge and led her through. The leading was +more careful of her strength, more respectful of her timidity,--was +more strictly _leading_ than _pushing_,--that was all. Of course in two +weeks, or even in four, the best of teachers and scholars could make +but a beginning; but that was well made, and the work went steadily on +from thence--despite "teaching all day," despite the various other +calls for time and strength. + +And Faith was as docile and obedient as Johnny Fax himself, and as far +as those qualities went, very much in the same way. If the denial of +Phil's _information_ and Mr. Linden's manner the day after her +overturn, had raised a doubt as to the real abstractness of his regard +for her, Faith's modesty and simplicity put the thought well into the +background. She did not care to look at it or bring it up; in the full, +happy, peaceful hours she was enjoying she had enough, for the present; +and so Faith went on very much after her old fashion. A little quieter, +perhaps, when not called out of it; a little shyer of even innocently +putting herself forward; but in speech or action, speaking and acting +with her wonted free simplicity. + +The only breaks in these weeks were one or two visits to Mrs. Custers, +and the doctor's comings and goings. He could not be shut out. + +The Monday evening after the doctor's absence at Quilipeak, the little +party were as usual in the sitting-room; and a pretty chapter of +Physical Geography was in process of reading and talk, when the +doctor's quick wheels at the door announced not only his return but his +arrival. And Mr. Linden announced to his scholar, that it was needful +now to return to the surface of the earth and attend to the flow of +conversation--and to put the book in his pocket. + +"Are you glad to see me back?" said the doctor as he took the hand of +his patient. He looked rather glad himself. + +"If I say yes, that will be to confess that I have reason. You perceive +my dilemma," Mr. Linden said, but with a smile that was certainly as +kind and trustworthy as any the doctor had seen since he went away. + +"Do you mean--that you have no reason to be glad?" said Dr. Harrison +slowly, eying the smile and giving it, to judge by his own, a trustful +regard. + +"Certainly not! It's a comfort to have somebody at hand who is ready to +fight me at any moment," said Mr. Linden. + +"What have you been doing since I went away?" + +"Reading, writing, and considering the world generally." + +"From this Pattaquasset centre!" + +"Why not?--if lines meet and make it one." + +"How do you get the ends of the lines in your hands!" said the doctor. +"A centre, I feel it to be--but very like the centre of the +earth--socially and politically. You see, I have just emerged to the +surface, and come down again. Who has taken care of you?" + +"I feel quite equal to the task of taking care of myself, thank you, +doctor." + +"You don't mean to say, man, you have dressed your arm yourself?" + +"What _do_ you suppose my powers are equal to?" + +"That is a matter," said the doctor, "upon which I stand in +doubt--which gives me an uncomfortable, troublesome sort of feeling +when I am in your presence. It must be superstition. I suppose I shall +get the better of it--or of you!--in time. Meanwhile, who _has_ dressed +your arm for you?" + +The answer was given very quietly, very simply, not very loud. "The +lady whom you had the honour of instructing in the art, Dr. Harrison." + +"Did you do it well?" said Dr. Harrison somewhat comically, wheeling +round before Faith. + +She was a contrast; as her face looked up at him, rather pleased, and +her soft voice answered,--"I think I did, sir." + +"I don't doubt you did! And I don't doubt you would do anything. Are +you preparing to be another Portia? And am I to be Bellario?" + +"I don't know what you mean, Dr. Harrison." + +"Do you know the story of Portia?--in the Merchant of Venice?" + +"I never read it." + +"She was a dangerous character," said the doctor. "Portia, Miss +Derrick, wishing to save not the life but the character and happiness +of a--But what a way this is to tell you the story! Is there a +Shakspeare here?" + +"We haven't it," said Faith quietly. + +"I'll bring the play the next time I come, if you will allow me," he +said sitting down by her;--"and indoctrinate you in something more +interesting than my first lesson. How shall I thank you for doing my +work for me?" + +"It became my work." + +"I am in your debt nevertheless--more than you can know without being +one of my profession. I have some thing that I wish to submit to your +inspection, and to take your advice upon, too. It will be fit to be +seen, I hope, by the day after to-morrow. If I could I would bring it +here--but as that is not possible--Will you go to see it?" + +"Where is it?" + +"Not far; but it will cost you the taking of a few steps." + +Faith declared she had hardly time to go to see anything; but was +obliged finally to yield to persuasion, and Thursday was the day fixed. +The thing, whatever it was, however, was not ready when the day came, +and the exhibition was put off indefinitely. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + + +Those weeks, like others, came to an end. And then Mr. Linden gave +notice to all and sundry of his scholars, that his time of seclusion +was at an end--only giving way to advice so far, as to accept the daily +use of Squire Stoutenburgh's close carriage, until his health should be +in a more assured state. Monday morning he was to take up his old +routine of school duties; though none too fit for it, in the estimation +of some people,--the doctor said it was a month too soon. And no one +could look at him and forget the last month's work,--a little exertion +made the work very apparent; and as they sat at breakfast Monday +morning, Mrs. Derrick made up her own mind privately that Dr. Harrison +should have found some means to keep him in the house and from work yet +longer. But the result of her meditations was not put in words; the +effect betrayed itself in the extra care bestowed upon cups of +coffee--the only thing within her reach. + +It was a cold morning, true November, with its driving grey wind +clouds, through which the cool sunbeams straggled fitfully; with trees +shorn of their golden honours, and brown branches waving and twisting +in the wind, and only mere specks of blue here and there overhead. The +gulls sailed to and fro above the Mong as if they rejoiced in the +fierce gusts of northern wind; the vessels shortened sail, or ran under +bare poles. The wind shook the village windows, and poured dry leaves +in every porch, and swept up the world generally--not much to the +comfort of the same. In Mrs. Derrick's little eating-room indeed, it +was warm enough, and the floor swept after another fashion; yet even +there did the wind rush in, whenever the kitchen door opened, after +Cindy and the hot cakes. + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith after her eye had gone exploringly to the +window, the wind and the clouds,--"I wish you would give the boys only +half a day to-day!" + +"I fancy you could have your wish seconded thirty times," he said +smiling. "No--not thirty times, but perhaps twenty." + +"I don't think those wishes would be worth minding; but I think mine +is, Mr. Linden. I mean the reason of it." + +"I think yours is--if I could mind it. What is the reason, Miss Faith?" + +"I am afraid you are not quite fit for a whole day's work. In school," +she added smiling. + +"You don't know what you are asking!--if I stay at home I shall talk +nothing but French the whole afternoon." + +"Well," said Faith laughingly, "I should only be still. I could bear +that." + +"I couldn't--and you wouldn't. But you need not be uneasy, Miss +Faith--I must not be at home." + +She looked grave, but said no more. + +The wind was not more busy out of doors that day, than the people +within. Diligent and quick hands moved about in dairy and kitchen; and +a quick and diligent spirit as earnestly--(for in Faith's mind it was +all one work; _that_ was on the way to _this_)--dealt with problems and +idioms in the study room that Faith liked best and where she was most +secure. But long enough before dinner she was helping Mrs. Derrick in +the kitchen again. + +"Mother," she said, "you can't think how I dread to see Mr. Linden come +home to-day! He won't speak one word of English to me." + +"I guess he would, if you wouldn't speak one word of French to him," +said Mrs. Derrick sagaciously. "What are you afraid of, child?" + +"I am afraid just of that," said Faith sighing. "Of having to speak +those French words." + +"Why you've been reading them to him, I'm sure," said her mother. "I +didn't know anybody was afraid of him but me, Faith. But if you don't +like it, why don't you tell him so?" + +Faith however negatived that proposition with a dubious shake of the +head; which meant, probably, that neither Mr. Linden nor herself would +be satisfied with such a mode of procedure; and confined her present +attentions to the dinner preparations. In which and other matters she +became so engaged that she forgot her fears; and going into the dining +room some time after with a dish in her hands and finding Mr. Linden +there, Faith asked him earnestly and with great simplicity, "how he +felt after his morning's work." Then remembering, or reminded by +something in his face, she started away like a deer before any answer +could be given; and only came back demurely with her mother,--to +receive his grave reverence and "Me voici, mademoiselle!"--given just +as if he had not seen her before. The half grave half laughing flash of +Faith's eye spoke as much of amusement as of fear; yet afraid she +certainly was, for she did not so much as speak English to her mother. +The language of the eye was all she ventured; nor that boldly. It had +to come, however, fear or no fear, the English might be dispensed with +but not the French. She could not but try to understand the remarks or +bits of in formation which were given her--sometimes gravely sometimes +laughing; and if Mr. Linden was evidently waiting for an answer--what +could she do but try that too! He was an admirable dictionary, very +quick at seeing and supplying her want of a word, and giving his +corrections of her phraseology and pronunciation so gently and by the +way, that fear partly lost itself in interest. His own speech was +singularly smooth and perfect; and whenever Faith found herself getting +frightened, she was sure to be assailed with such a volley of swift +flowing syllables, that she could do nothing but laugh,--after which +Mr. Linden would come back to the slower utterance which she could +better understand. After all, Faith's words that first time were few, +and it may safely be asserted that she did not in the least know what +she was eating, and made no sort of a dinner. Of that last fact her +instructor was well aware, but as his first "Mais mademoiselle, +mangez!" received but little attention, he postponed that point till +just as he was going away, and then made a rather stringent request to +the same effect. + +So the afternoon passed on, and blew itself out, and the sun went to +bed and night began to light her candles. Faith, standing at the window +(it was too cold to be out) saw the red gleam fading from earth and +sky, and the cold bright stars coming one by one into view. Then the +boys began to pass by,--some together and some alone; walking or +running home, or playing ball by the way. Mr. Linden's carriage was a +little behind them all, but he came at last, and gave her a bow and a +smile from the gate though she thought herself standing too far back to +be seen. + +"Now Mr. Linden," said Faith when he came in,--"I am so glad to speak +to you again! How do you do?" The question was not lightly given. + +"Miss Faith, did you finish your dinner?" + +"No--" said Faith hesitating,--"but I am going to have some tea by and +by. Aren't you well tired, Mr. Linden?" + +"Pretty well--Why didn't you?" + +"I wanted to be doing something else,"--said Faith, giving the easy +chair a little push into place, and then brightening up the fire. "I +shall have tea in here to-night, Mr. Linden. But we must wait a little +while for it, for Cindy is out. You won't be sorry to rest first." + +She was summarily, though very respectfully put in the easy chair +herself. + +"By what rule of right and wrong did you do anything else first? Do you +know, Miss Faith, I did not finish mine either--I wanted another piece +of bread, and could not get it!" + +"Why not, Mr. Linden? I am sure there was bread on the table. But I am +glad if you are hungry, for I have got something that you like. Now +please rest!" she said springing up and beginning to arrange the table. + +"I am sure I asked you for it politely," he said with a smile, as he +yielded to her "please rest." "What have you been about all day?" + +"I have been learning my lessons--and trying how well I could get on by +myself." + +"Get on by yourself?" he said rather slowly and inquiringly. "In what?" + +"In the books--in my studies, Mr. Linden." + +"Are you tired of my help, Miss Faith?" + +She gave all her eyes to the answer, both in their sweetness and their +gravity. "Do you think I could let you spend all your time upon me, Mr. +Linden, when your whole day is given to such work? I'll come to you for +help whenever I can't get on without it," she said with a smile, not +exactly an enjoying one,--"but I know I can do a good deal by myself." + +His eyes were given to the answer too, a little intently, but the smile +that followed was different. + +"I think you will let me do what I shall do, Miss Faith." + +"I suppose that!" said Faith with a bright gleam in her eyes. She went +out to see if Cindy had come back; but returned immediately, sat down +and looked gravely into the fire. + +"What is the use of startling people in that way?" Mr. Linden said, +looking at her. "I didn't know but you were going to send me to take up +my abode at Mrs. Seacomb's!" + +"Startling, Mr. Linden!" said Faith opening her eyes at him. "I said it +because I thought it was right. I didn't think it was pleasant." + +"Well," said he, "we were agreed upon that point. Now Miss Faith, as my +time is precious, and I cannot well give any of it to people who have +enough of their own--would it disturb you if I were to read aloud a +little here for my own amusement?" + +She changed her place to come nearer, without saying anything, but with +a face of quiet delight only half revealed. + +"What do you think of the relative and respective charms of Mirth and +Melancholy, Miss Faith?--I mean their charms to inward perception, not +outward sight." + +"The pleasure of them?" said Faith. + +"Yes--pleasure and satisfaction." + +"I never thought there was any pleasure in Melancholy," said Faith +smiling at the idea, but smiling inquiringly too. + +In answer, Mr. Linden opened his book and gave her the Allegro and +Penseroso,--gave them with not only a full appreciation, but with a +delicate change and suiting of voice and manner--and look, even--that +made them witching. + +And if ever a hearer was bewitched, that was Faith. She lent her ear to +the music, her eye to the eye, her thought to the thought, in utter +forgetfulness of all else. At first she listened quietly, sitting where +she was, looking sometimes at the fire, sometimes at the reader; but +then she abandoned herself to full enjoyment, left her chair for a low +seat near Mr. Linden, almost at his feet; and with upraised face and +intent eye and varying play of lip, devoured it all. Sometimes the +poetry certainly got beyond the bounds of her stock of knowledge; but +that mattered not; for whenever the reading failed, the reader filled +up all the gap and Faith listened to _him_. Precisely what it was to +have just such a hearer, was best known to the reader himself; but he +closed the book silently. Faith's comment was peculiar. + +It wasn't made at first. Her look had come round slowly to the fire and +slowly subsided. After sitting a minute so, she made her remark. + +"But Mr. Linden, none of that seemed much like Melancholy to me?" + +"That may be called the ideal of Melancholy," he said smiling. + +"What is an 'ideal'? But oh," said Faith starting up, "it is time to +have tea!--What is an 'ideal,' Mr. Linden?" + +It was impossible not to laugh a little--but equally impossible to take +that laugh amiss. + +"The particular mental standard of perfection by which every person +measures other people and things; and as that is generally more perfect +than reality, the ideal is supposed to exist only in the idea." + +She stood pondering the answer, with a somewhat humbled brow. + +"I think I know," she said shaking her head a little,--"but I shall +have to ask what exactly you mean by a _standard_, Mr. Linden. By and +by--I must see to Cindy now." + +And she ran off. Cindy presently brought in the tray; and Faith +followed, arranging and setting in order everything. The tea did not +immediately follow, perhaps the fire had got low, or Mrs. Derrick was +not ready, for Faith did not seem expectant. She stood on the rug +before the fire, looking into it very soberly and consideratively. +There was a little abstraction in her figure and air. Suddenly she +faced round where she stood. + +"Do you feel very tired indeed to-night, Mr. Linden?" + +"Not _very_--now," he said smiling. "I have been resting. I was a +little more tired than usual when I came home." + +Slowly and deliberately she came round behind his chair and stood +leaning upon the back of it. + +"Mr. Linden--I want to ask you something." + +The tone was low and peculiar. It was a very common thing for her to be +more or less moved by a little timidity; but now plainly Faith was +afraid. It changed her voice, beyond the slight sweet touch that +timidity often gave it. + +"You know I like to have you, Miss Faith." + +"I wanted to ask--if you would like,--or if you wouldn't dislike--if +you would have any objection, to read and pray at night--here, with +us,--and let Cindy and Mr. Skip come in?" + +"I will, certainly," Mr. Linden said: "how could I have any objection? +Miss Faith--will you please to come round here and sit down?--Why are +you so much afraid of me?" She did not leave her position. + +"I didn't know whether you would like it," she said in a very low +voice. "I asked mother to ask you, but she wouldn't--though she said +she would like to have you do it. I wanted it particularly for mother's +sake."--The last words were said little above a whisper. + +"I don't see where the fear came from, yet." + +She was quite still, quite motionless, behind his chair. He turned a +little, so as to see her face, and laid his hand upon hers. + +"Will you come round here and tell me, Miss Faith? I shall not let you +stand up all the evening." + +She was looking, when he saw her, with the least bit of a smile upon a +mouth all unbent, and eyes that were full; a very happy, stirred face. +It quieted down as soon as he turned; except the smile which played +rather more. + +"Tell you what, Mr. Linden?" she said not leaving her place. + +"What have I done to make myself such an ogre?" + +"What is an ogre, Mr. Linden?" + +"A ferocious sort of anomaly that everybody is afraid of." + +"I don't know what you've done, Mr. Linden," she said half laughing. "I +am not enough afraid to hurt anything." + +"Enough to hurt me--I don't care about any other thing." + +A grave glance of her eye was regretful enough. + +"But it's true, Mr. Linden! I was a little afraid to ask what I wasn't +sure you would like--that was all." + +"Well," he said with a reassuring smile, as he got up and took hold of +both her hands and brought her out of position, "I am not much hurt +yet--but I desire that the fear may not increase. And therefore, Miss +Faith, I want to have you sit here in the firelight, so that I can keep +watch of it." + +She smiled, as if it were beyond his ken now, but her words went to +another point. + +"What time would you like, Mr. Linden?" + +"Whatever suits you." + +She was silent for a minute or two, with a very happy face, till the +door opened. Then she sprang up and received and placed the tea and +things which Cindy had brought in. There was a dainty supply to-night, +perhaps in consideration of Mr. Linden's first day of out-door work, +and in delicate sympathy and reward thereof. And Faith, in her happiest +mood though as quiet as a mouse, was an excellent 'ministering spirit' +of the tea-table; to-night particularly, for every sense and affection +seemed to be on the alert. + +"How do you find all the boys, after their month out of school, Mr. +Linden?" she said, when waffles and cups of tea were fairly under weigh. + +"Very glad to see me--very much afraid I should tire myself; and some a +little afraid they might share the fatigue. So things correct each +other!--if they had not shewed the last fear, I might have felt the +first." + +"How did that work?" said Faith laughing a little. + +"It _worked_--" said Mr. Linden. "Is that intelligible, Miss Faith?" + +Her smile and shake of the head said that it was. + +"Is Joe Deacon staying home yet?" said Mrs. Derrick. + +"No, he began school again to-day." + +"I wonder whether the Squire is going off again," said Mrs. +Derrick,--"or whether _he's_ going to stay home." + +"I have heard nothing of his going away." + +"You were going to tell me what exactly a 'standard' is, Mr. Linden? At +least!"--said Faith correcting herself,--"I was going to ask you." + +"There is a very intimate connexion between the two things," said Mr. +Linden smiling. "A standard, in this sense, is simply some fixed rule +of the _ought to be_, by which the _is_ must be tried. Standard coin is +that made according to the precise government regulation, and is the +test of all other in the realm, as to size, weight, and alloy. So of +standard weights and measures. For some things we have the Bible +standard,--for most, each person has his own." + +"Then Mr. Linden," said Faith, "I think my 'ideal' of Melancholy is +something disagreeable." + +"I don't believe you have any!" said he laughing. "You mean your idea, +Miss Faith." + +"Do I?" said Faith. "But perhaps you have such a thing, Mr. Linden; +isn't it disagreeable?" + +"Not at all--and besides I haven't any. But the ideal of Melancholy is +about as much like the reality, as a picture of the Tragic Muse is like +the fifth act of a tragedy." + +That Faith did not know the meaning of tragedy, was a fact which she +wisely and self-denyingly kept to herself, and for the present turned +her attention to supplying her mother with a fresh waffle. And so with +various bits of talk, tea came to an end, and Mrs. Derrick was called +out to discuss some important matter with Mr. Skip. + +"Mother," said Faith finding her opportunity, "I asked Mr. Linden, and +he will do that."--A little shadow came over Mrs. Derrick's face. + +"Well, child?" she said gently. + +"Mother--I have asked _him_,--will you speak to Mr. Skip and Cindy?" + +"I can't child--" said her mother, with the same tone and look. "I'll +go in myself, but I can't try to do any more." + +"Dear mother--" said Faith,--"I wish you would!" + +Her mother turned and kissed her, but the difficulty was clearly not +one to be overcome. The whole subject seemed to bring up some painful +association. + +"He'll call them in himself, if you ask him, child." + +"Would it be right to ask him, mother?" + +"Why yes!" said Mrs. Derrick--"I don't see why not. One of you must." + +With this thought Faith went back to the sitting-room. Clearly there +was some strong feeling against her being the one, for after a little +sober silent waiting, she spoke. + +"Mr. Linden--would you rather I should ask Cindy and Mr. Skip to come +in?--or will you?" + +He knew, better than she did, how well the question shewed her own +wish, and how simple a matter it was to him. + +"I will, Miss Faith, if you please. Is this the hour you have fixed +upon?" + +"I think so," she said,--"if you like it; because by and by they will +be sleepy." And Mr. Linden at once proceeded to the kitchen. + +A busy murmur of tongues, and bright firelight glancing from keyhole +and crevice, guided him through the narrow passage which, sooth to say, +he had never trod before, to the door of the kitchen; the latch of +which yielded on slight persuasion, and Mr. Linden walked in. Supper +was over there, too, and the dishes were washed and put away, and Cindy +with dishcloth in hand was rubbing down the kitchen table. In one +corner of the hearth sat Mr. Skip on a half bushel measure, a full corn +basket beside him, an empty one in front, his hands busy with the +shelling process; this hard work being diversified and enlivened with +the continual additions he made to a cob house on the hearth. But, cob +in hand, Mr. Skip paused when Mr. Linden came in, and looked up at this +unusual apparition from under an extraordinary hat which drooped on all +sides of his face, as if like its wearer it had long given up all idea +of keeping up appearances. The face itself was strong, shrewd, apt. And +so Mr. Skip looked at Mr. Linden. Cindy on her part, did nothing but +wring the dish cloth and shake it out again, entirely oblivious of the +greeting with which Mr. Linden favoured both parties; and she listened +to the words he said about the corn, as if they had been Greek--double +distilled. Those words were few. + +"Mr. Skip," he said then, "I think that so long as God keeps us here +together every day, we ought to thank him for it together every night. +I want you and Cindy to come into the parlour and let us begin to do it +now." + +"Hey?" said Mr. Skip, between want of understanding and want of belief +in the testimony of his ears. Mr. Linden repeated his words, with a +composed distinctness that could leave no manner of doubt. + +"Well!"--said Mr. Skip. "What do you want us for to do?" + +"Come into the parlour." + +"I s'pose we'll be to come,"--said Mr. Skip, dropping his cob and +getting up and straightening himself. "Will you have us in now?" + +"Yes," Mr. Linden answered, and led the way. + +"Go along, Cindy!" said Mr. Skip in undertone. "S'pose it don't take +fur to see into this." + +Cindy obeyed, but without seeing 'fur' into anything--even the parlour, +though she tried for it. There was not very much to see. Mrs. Derrick +(with a little shadow of recollective sorrow) had placed the old Bible +by the lamp, and now sat leaning her head on her hand and did not look +up as they came in. Faith's face was one of grave joy; but the gravity +was so quiet that the joy was beyond the ken of so dull a vision as +Cindy's. She sat with clasped hands on a low seat beyond the fire. And +Cindy at last fixed her attention upon Mr. Linden, with only an +occasional roll of her eyes towards Mr. Skip. + +It was a long time since such a service had been in that house,--a time +at first swept by a storm of sorrow, then calmed and quieted into a +stillness which had grown more and more bright, year by year. Whatever +sunshine those years had seen, came from Faith; but that other faith, +which should make even her more precious, had been unknown. And the +words of the reading and prayer to-night, were to Mrs. Derrick like the +renewing of things so long past, that she could scarce bear it; and +different as Mr. Linden was from any one she had ever known, that +Christian family likeness almost, to her feeling, transformed him. + +It was a very simple matter to him, truly,--why not?--Why should it +ever be anything else? or why, when the fear of God is on the tongue +should the fear of man be in the heart? Yet it was even more the love +of God than the fear, that his hearers perceived that night. Simple in +word and tone and manner, it was the simplicity of a feeling so full +and strong that it needed no capillary tubes of speech to carry it +upward. The prayer ended, and the retreating steps on their way along +the kitchen passage, Mrs. Derrick came up to Faith, and putting her +arms round her kissed first one cheek and then the other--then turned +and left the room. And Faith sat still, with that joy filling her heart +so full that her head bent with the weight of it. + +One other comment she was destined to hear that night. + +"I must say, Miss Faith," said Cindy, "I like these new notions +firstrate! I always did say my prayers afore I went to bed, and I'm +free to confess this saves a deal of trouble." + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + + +The quiet of that very peaceful evening was for a short time +interrupted by a call from Dr. Harrison. The doctor came, he said, to +see how Mr. Linden felt after his day's work; and to tell Faith that +his exhibition was in readiness for her and only waited a sunny day and +her presence. It was agreed that if the sun did not fail of shewing +himself the next afternoon, Faith should not. + +Tuesday was fair, and the afternoon came on brilliant with sunbeams. +But the doctor's steps did not reach Mrs. Derrick's door by some +minutes so soon as he had purposed they should. + +Passing down the main street of Pattaquasset, Dr. Harrison descried +before him the well known figure of Squire Stoutenburgh, and the less +familiar outlines of Squire Deacon. And the doctor's near approach +procured him the favour of an introduction to the latter +gentleman,--either because the Squire desired it, or because the other +Squire was tired of his companion and wanted to be off--which he was, +as soon as the introduction was over. For in Mr. Stoutenburgh's eyes +the buttonhole of Dr. Harrison's soft coat was no more precious (to say +the least) than that of his own grey Rough and Ready. + +"Squire Deacon is anxious about the state of Mr. Linden's health, +doctor," he said,--"I refer him to you." + +The doctor made a slight inclination, graceful as all his inclinations +were, but also slight; intimating that he would have the honour of +satisfying Mr. Deacon's inquiries but desired nothing more of him. + +"How's he getting along?" said Squire Deacon--feeling the social duty +thus imposed upon him. + +"There is hope that he will be restored to his pristine state of +strength in the course of a few weeks, sir." + +"A few weeks!" said Squire Deacon. "Why he's in school again, ain't he?" + +"He has gone in a carriage," said the doctor, who for some +unaccountable reason had taken a fit of perversity,--"I understand he +was in school yesterday." + +"Did you know him afore he come here, doctor?" + +"I had not that honour, sir, till I came here myself." + +"Well I never saw anybody as did," said Squire Deacon.--"I s'pose he +comes from _somewhere_." + +"I doubt it," said Dr. Harrison with the slightest possible elevation +of his eyebrows for an instant. Squire Deacon, however, was not just +the fool Dr. Harrison took him for; of which fact a little gleam in his +eyes gave notice. + +"'Taint extraordinary _you_ don't like him, doctor," he said +carelessly. "Mr. Linden's a fine man, but 'most any pair o' wheels is +one too many in some roads." + +"I never followed a wheelbarrow, sir," said the doctor. "I suppose, +from your allusion, you have. May I be honoured with your further +commands?" + +"Wheelbarrows have only one wheel, mostly," said Squire Deacon +composedly. + +"You know better than I, sir. Might I enquire why you are anxious about +the state of Mr. Linden's health?" + +"Don't know as I said I was anxious--" said Squire Deacon. "When a +man's lived in a place as long as he has, it's nothing wonderful if +folks ask whether he's going to hold on. All the women in my house +think he's dead and buried, now." + +"Ah! He's a favourite in that line, is he?" + +"Other lines just as much--for all I know," said the Squire. "Can't say +I ever just went in for all Mr. Simlins says nor all Parson Somers +says, neither,--can't help that, doctor, if he is one o' your folks." + +"What have you against him?" + +"I don't say nothing against him," said Squire Deacon,--"except he's a +fine man. Maybe you think that is." + +"Is there anything further you would like to say on any subject, sir?" + +"Not much, I guess, if _that's_ the time o' day," said Squire Deacon +looking at him with a queer little bit of a smile. "'Taint useful to +get stirred up that way, doctor, just because a man wishes you a good +journey. But I can just as easy wish you another overturn--I s'pose +you're pretty sure to get one or t'other out o' the horses. It's all +one to me--and I dare say it is to everybody else." + +"What is your name, sir?" said the doctor standing and looking at him +in a sort of mazed consideration. + +"My name's Sam Deacon,"--said the Squire with his peculiar sort of +sullen composure. "Your father and I've always been friends, anyhow." + +"Then Mr. Deacon will you have the goodness to under stand that I am +not an agent for the transaction of Mr. Linden's affairs; but as I am a +friend of his, I will inform him that you are interested in the +subject. That is all, sir?" + +"I'll go bail for the first part of that!" said Squire Deacon. "But +it's your affairs I'm talkin' of--not his'n. And I s'pose I've as good +a right as all the rest of Pattaquasset--and give no offence, neither. +I was goin' to make you my compliments, doctor--that's all; and if you +don't think you'll ever want 'em, why there's no harm done--and enough +said. All I want to know is, what do you get so stirred up for?" + +"Is that all?" said the doctor, as if he had a mind to know the whole +before giving an answer. + +"All what?" said Squire Deacon. + +"All that you wish to communicate?" + +"I haven't communicated anything yet," said the Squire. "I guess you +knew all that before." + +"Well," said the doctor, half laughing, though his expression had +changed more than once during the last five minutes,--"then my answer +is easy. In the first place, Mr. Deacon, I have no affairs--therefore +it is impossible to talk about them. In the second place, when I am in +want of your compliments I will send you mine. In the third place,--I +declare I am at a loss how to answer you; for the only thing I ever get +stirred up for, is my breakfast! Good afternoon!--" + +Staying no more civilities, the doctor made the best of his way to Mrs. +Derrick's. Faith was ready for him, and more gently with her he set out +on the road back again. It was not a time of day to meet people--one +familiar face however they did meet,--Squire Deacon. His eye did not +seek Faith's face, but rested on the doctor with full effect. + +Arrived at the Judge's house, the doctor led her to the library, and +there unlocked the door of a little cabinet room. On a table in the +window, standing in the full sunshine, was the object of their visit. +It was simply a fine little Aquarium. More delightfully new to Faith's +eyes nothing could be; as the same eyes shewed. While they explored the +wonders of the box, the doctor at his ease proceeded to unfold to her +the various meanings of them. He enlarged upon the habits and +characters of the several inmates of the Aquarium; he explained to her +the philosophy of keeping the balance of vegetable and animal life and +thereby preserving both; he told which creature lived upon which other; +what office they severally, some of them, performed for the small +section of Ocean in which they lived and its vitrified shores; and then +taking up the subject of Sea anemones, the doctor told stories, of +natural truth, that with these living specimens before her entranced +Faith out of all knowledge of place or time. Dr. Harrison asked no +more. He gave her what she liked, and with admirable tact abstained +from putting himself forward; any further than a quick eye, excellent +speech, and full and accurate mind must make themselves known, and most +gentle and graceful attention make itself felt. + +"Do you suppose," said he, when Faith was absorbedly watching the +Anemones feed,--"that Mrs. Derrick would give this thing house-room?" + +Faith looked, but half comprehending. + +"I am not always here," said the doctor carelessly, as he was supplying +another bit of flesh to the voracious flower,--"and I should like to +have it somewhere that it would be taken care of. If I left it to Sophy +for a week, I should expect to find on my return that the vegetables +and fishes had eaten up each other. Don't you admire that crab?" + +"Very much," said Faith. "This little fish is just like some of the +shells down on the shore." + +"He came from the shore somewhere," said the doctor,--"little monster! +The ocean world isn't much better than the world of earth, apparently, +Miss Derrick." + +"Do you think the earth-world is like that?" said Faith. + +"Don't you?" + +"I don't know what it is like." + +"If you will permit me to say so, I hope you never will--any further +than as you choose to make this a miniature of that. And things in +miniature--are much less," said the doctor abstractedly, looking at the +Anemone. "Would you like to have this little ocean box in your house +for awhile, Miss Faith?--it could just as well as not. Indeed it would +be rather a benefit to me." + +"O I should like it!" said Faith. "But I should be afraid of its +getting broken, Dr. Harrison." + +"I am not afraid," said he. "It would be in less danger there than +here. As I told you, Sophy neither knows nor cares anything about such +things; and she would either kill them with kindness or forget them +altogether--most likely do both alternately. But with you they would be +safe, for the simple reason that you love them." + +The sunbeams had left the window before Faith was at all aware of the +passing away of the afternoon. And then, for once to her joy, Miss +Harrison could not be found. They set out to walk home, and had got +half way when a little rush of footsteps came up behind them, and +Reuben and Sam passed by, arm in arm; or rather half by--then paused +and said good evening. + +"O have you seen Mr. Linden to-night, Dr. Harrison?" said Sam. + +"Good evening, sir!" said the doctor. "Have I the honour of knowing +you?" + +"I should think you might," said Sam, in a tone not at all +displeased--"but it don't signify much. Have you seen him to-night, +doctor?" + +"_I_ should think I might, too," said Dr. Harrison looking coolly over +the "young giant." "Allow me to observe, that 'to-night' is not come +yet." + +"Did you ever!" said Sam in an aside to Reuben, who had stood perfectly +still without speaking. "Well any time since he got home then, sir?" + +"No, sir." + +"Have you, Miss Faith?" said Reuben. + +"No, Reuben--I am just going home. What's the matter?" + +"Why he fainted in school--that's all," said Sam,--"he said there was +nothing the matter. Only we were going down to see how he got home, and +I thought maybe the doctor might tell us first." And not staying for +more words the two boys walked on a few steps, then set off and soon +ran themselves out of sight. + +The other two quickened their walk, the doctor moderating his steps +however to suit the strength of his companion. But she soon took the +lead, and Mrs. Derrick's house was reached in as short a space of time +as the ground might be travelled without a speed which Faith did not +dare assume. + +There was nothing alarming in the little parlour. Mrs. Derrick sat +knitting; Mr. Linden had been reading, but now was talking--half +laughing, half chiding--with the two boys who stood before him. Reuben +stood silent, smiling a little; Sam's energy was at work. + +Faith came in quietly, with a face to which all her quick walk had not +brought back the colour. She said nothing. But the doctor's tongue was +free. + +"Why what's this, Linden?" + +"This is--Linden," said that gentleman coolly. "No boys--go off,--I +think I can live without seeing either of you again till to-morrow. +What's the matter, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Just and precisely what I was asking," said the doctor; while Faith +glided to her mother and sitting down by her whispered enquiry. But +Mrs. Derrick knew nothing--had heard nothing, apparently. + +"It's for you to state the case--" said Mr. Linden. "You speak as if +you had a warrant of arrest in your pocket." + +"Why!" said the doctor, standing and looking down upon him,--"here's a +wind that has blown from nowhere! Do you want me to lodge information +against yourself?" + +"_I_ don't wish to lodge any." + +"Linden," said the doctor changing his tone to one of serious kindly +interest, while Faith's eyes from her more distant seat waited for the +answer,--"what is the matter? What made you faint to-day?" + +"What nonsense have those boys been talking?" said Mr. Linden--but his +look carried the charge a little beyond the range of his words. "I was +faint for awhile--not quite in a 'deadly swoond,' however." + +"That young scapegrace said and declared you had fainted." + +"They are so used to their own red cheeks, they think red is 'the only +colour,'" said Mr. Linden. "However, I believe he spoke true--but it +was nothing worth speaking of, after all." + +"What was the cause?" + +"I presumed a little upon the successful way in which I got through +yesterday--tried to do a little too much to-day, had one or two things +to try me--and so. Which of my boys do you honour with that title of +scapegrace?" + +"You mustn't do so again," said the doctor seriously. + +"There was no malice prepense to-day," said Mr. Linden. "What have you +been about all the afternoon?--I expect to hear that you have sailed up +the Great Pyramid in a canal boat, or coasted Japan in a Chinese +lantern." + +"Nearly right," said the doctor. "We have been enacting the part of the +wise men of Gotham--I can't imagine where I ever heard of them!--who +went to sea in a tub." + +"Went to see--what?--" said Mr. Linden laughing. + +"Went to Se-vast-a-pool!" said the doctor with perfect gravity. "I hope +you're better!" + +"Don't I look well?" + +"If I were to take the votes on that subject," said the doctor, "I +presume the verdict would be unanimous. But looks are +proverbially--unsatisfactory! Do you know what damage you have done me +by your exploit this afternoon?" + +"I should be very glad to hear." + +"Why you have brought me into discredit and disfavour with half +Pattaquasset, man, because I have let you go out too soon--don't you +see? Mrs. Derrick has already laid it to her account against me--which +is getting to be a score I shall never dare to foot up." + +Faith had left the room for a minute, and coming back again began to +make ready the table for tea. Dr. Harrison's eyes followed her. She was +not looking as she had looked at his anemones; quiet, sweet, and grave, +she went round gathering up the books, and arranging the cups and +plates. But the doctor, though asked, would not stay. He went off and +the tea was brought in. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "if you are half as ready for that +exercise as I am, we shall get on superbly to-night." + +She almost started. + +"You, Mr. Linden! Oh you're not fit for it!" + +"Not fit for it!--Miss Faith, how can you say that to me?" + +"Let it be so to-night, Mr. Linden!" + +"I shall do nothing of the kind, Miss Faith, by your leave. You know I +can rest here most comfortably, and make you work--after the same +fashion, I hope. I am a little afraid," he said looking at her, "that +you are working too much." + +"Why, Mr. Linden? How could I?" + +"By not keeping your studies well balanced with fresh air." + +"O no!" she said smiling. "The work is a great deal better than the +fresh air. Besides, I have been out to-day." + +"You might as well say that bread is a great deal better than water. +Yes, you have been out to-day, that is one good thing. And I shall try +to throw somewhat into that scale myself, if I live. But I want all the +books to-night, Miss Faith--and to-morrow, you know, is a half holiday, +but you need not expect to have one." + +Faith's tea went on after that in a manifestly different manner. +Expeditiously the table was cleared after tea! And if ever Faith +wrought with eager care to do perfections and save her teacher every +word and thought that could be spared, she did it then. So the exercise +was written, with most earnest guarding against anything 'german' or +'sophisticated' in her letters. Indeed Faith's handwriting, by dint of +taking pains, was fast growing into stiff correctness--not without a +certain beauty, of promise at least, but stiff still. And with all her +other lessons, of thought or memory; what earnest quick effort could do +was done that night, and done upon the back of a sound preparation. + +Mr. Linden however did not spare himself words, riot much, and care not +at all; watching and guiding his pretty scholar with equal gravity, +gentleness, and attention; rarely diverging from the business view of +the subject, unless Faith grew timid or frightened, in which case he +indulged himself with making her laugh, and so brought her back to +business again. What views Mrs. Derrick took of the two, thus engaged, +it would be hard to say; save that they were wondrous pleasant ones--a +little puzzled, a little thoughtful, loving and pleased to the last +degree. How much she studied those two faces!--not Faith herself +bestowed more care upon what she was about. But Faith came to +conclusions--Mrs. Derrick never did; wanting help from the very person +who cleared the path of learning for her daughter. His face--its +gravity, its changes--she could not read; but she liked the study. + +The doctor's plan about the Aquarium was excessively distasteful to +Mrs. Derrick. She read the meaning and grounds of it, which Faith +entirely failed to read; but then to give them to her was hardly an +advisable thing. So the Aquarium came, after a few days; and Faith +having found that Mr. Linden could give her some help, if necessary, in +the care of it, relieved her mind of all concern about the +responsibility and took the full good of the trust. In a sunny window +it was placed, and many a happy minute between the times of other +things Faith stood or sat there to watch the unfolding and shrinking +Anemones, and the restless, eager, wild lives of the other and more +distinctly animal inhabitants of this little section of Ocean. The only +uncomfortable thing about it was that other people sometimes saw it and +heard how it came there; and other people, Faith knew, drew very +ridiculous inferences from nothing. And though ridiculous they were +disagreeable. But however, she knew best how it came there and how +simple a matter it was; and it was never the way of her simplicity to +trouble itself overmuch about ridiculous things. + +Another person, it may be remarked, knew how it got there; and he found +it pleasant to come and see it some times. This was generally in the +afternoon, now, when Mr. Linden was not at home and Faith was not +occupied in household duties. Pleasant talks were held over the +Aquarium; for there was never an end of things that might be told of +old and new discoveries connected with what was in it. The +conversations diverged often to other matters, religious or scientific +as the case might be; and were clever, bright, interesting, or amusing +accordingly--and invariably. + +And so the time wore on towards the 29th. But in the fourth week of Mr. +Linden's return to school duties, Faith began to have a new lesson--or +rather she had it once and practised upon it many times. That once was +at the end of a Wednesday afternoon, in exquisite Indian summer +weather; when other subjects being dismissed for the time, Mr. Linden +gave his scholar an interesting and precise account of the process of +respiration; passing thence to the obvious benefits of fresh air, and +finally requesting her to put on her things and come out and take them. +After which, it may be observed, Faith was never heard to say that +studies were "a great deal better than fresh air,"--often as the walk +was repeated. + +The other lessons made beautiful headway. Even the French talks at +dinner. That was harder to Faith than any other trial to which she had +been put. She shrank from it with great shrinking. But the desire to +please her teacher overcame even fear. Rather than not do that,--Faith +ventured, right or wrong; and once fairly launched, of course, with his +good help and her own endeavours, soon got into smoother sailing. + +Mr. Linden and the doctor now met not often; the doctor making his +visits, as has been said, during school time. They met oftenest where +the doctor went seldomest,--in those rooms where Dr. Harrison did +sometimes let his profession call him, where Mr. Linden was drawn by +somewhat beyond profession. Sometimes this intercourse was only of the +eye,--sometimes they walked home together; the curious friendship +between them deepening, as it seemed, from all sources. + +Come home when Mr. Linden would, his room looked as if somebody had +just stepped out of it. The fire was always in its best beauty; the +hearth guiltless of ashes; the temperature genial whatever the weather +out of doors might be; the books, the papers, the table, in their +wonted order or disorder, as fresh as if dust never fell. But the fairy +of the place was always out of sight. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + + +The 29th of November came on Wednesday, which permitted Mrs. +Stoutenburgh to have her dinner at an earlier hour than would else have +been possible. To this dinner the two older guests were invited--the +boys were only to come to supper; and four o'clock was the time. + +Till near three, studies and reading were in full force, but then other +duties claimed attention. + +"If I could only sit next you at dinner, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said +as he shut up the books, "we could talk French all the time!--but there +is no hope of that. And Miss Faith--" he said as she turned to go +upstairs, "do you know that all the things on my table are not in their +proper place?" + +Very much wondering, Faith was for a moment at a loss. + +"What is wrong, Mr. Linden?" + +"I would not give it so harsh a name, Miss Faith--only I thought +perhaps you would go in there before I come up and see that all is left +just as usual,--if you would be so good." + +Faith went up, querying with herself whether Cindy could perhaps have +been in there and committed some dire damage--or _what_ it could be. + +What could it!--if ever a room was scrupulously in order, that was; and +the table--it had not been stirred, nor a book upon it, since Faith's +arranging hands had been there. Even writing implements were not laid +about, as they often were,--the table was just as usual. Unless---- + +Yes, in front of the books stood a glass of water, and therein one dark +velvet rose, truly of a "Cramoisi supérieure," failing to support +itself upon its own green leaves, laid its face half coquettishly and +half wearily upon dark sprigs of heliotrope and myrtle. Thence it +looked at Faith. And Faith looked at it, with a curious smile of +recognition, and yet of doubt,--whether _that_ could possibly be what +he meant. But she was to see that all things were "left just as usual;" +it did not admit of a serious question. So lifting the glass and the +rose, Faith and it went off together. + +Faith's best dress, of course put on for this occasion, was a black +silk. She had thought that a little extravagant at the time it was got; +but Mrs. Derrick would have it. It was made with the most absolute +plainness, high in the neck, where the invariable little white ruffle +graced the white throat; but the sleeves were short, and similar white +ruffles softened the dividing line between them and the well rounded +fair arms. Her hair was as usual, her feet were as usual, only the +shoes were of fresh neatness; but when Faith had with eyes that saw +only them, not herself, fastened the rose and myrtle on the bosom of +her dress, a little figure stood there that in its soft angles and +exquisite propriety of attire would have been noted in any circle of +splendour, and might have satisfied the most fastidious lover of +elegance. Wrapped up and hooded Faith went down stairs, and Mr. Linden +put her in the Stoutenburgh carriage, which rolled off to the mansion +of the same name in a very short space of time. + +In solitary grandeur Faith was ushered into Mrs. Stoutenburgh's +bedroom, where first the fire kept her company, and then Mrs. +Stoutenburgh herself came in from another door and both unwrapped her +and wrapt her up! But when all that could be done was done, Mrs. +Stoutenburgh ran off again, and told Faith, laughing, that she hadn't +seen her yet--and was all ready for her in the parlour. Faith being +left to herself stepped out into the passage, where Mr. Linden was +standing with folded arms before a window that looked out upon the +closing November day. Faith came softly up beside him. + +"I've seen Mrs. Stoutenburgh," she said, "but she says she hasn't seen +me. Are your flowers right now, Mr. Linden?" + +"Miss Faith! why do you wear velvet shoes?"--he said turning full upon +her. "You have not been down stairs?" + +"No, certainly. I saw Mrs. Stoutenburgh up here." + +"Then shall I have the pleasure of taking you down?--I see nothing that +is not right," he added smiling. + +It was rather an odd new thing to Faith, to be taken down, or in, +anywhere. The form of having a gentleman's arm was something rather +startling. But she did not shew it. Down stairs they went, into the +glowing parlour, where Faith was met and greeted by Mrs. Stoutenburgh +de nouveau. + +"Ah Miss Faith!" said the Squire as he gave her his salutation, "how +extravagant you are to add roses to roses in that style! Don't you know +it's a waste of material?" + +"No, sir. I shall use it all up." + +"I should like to see you after you get through!" said Mr. Stoutenburgh +laughing. "Ask Mr. Linden if it's not waste." + +Mr. Linden however entirely declined to assent to any such +proposition,--nay, even hinted that if any one was to be charged with +wasting roses just then, it was the Squire himself. + +"Yes, I think so too!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh,--"but how funnily you +always see through things and turn them about!" + +"Roses are not very opaque things to see through," he answered smiling, +while Mrs. Stoutenburgh rescued Faith and putting her arm round her +drew her off towards the sofa. Where Faith was glad to get at a +distance from the rose-consumers. She felt rather nervous. + +"Where is Sam?" she asked. "This is his day, isn't it?" + +"He was here a minute ago," said his mother,--"I guess he ran off when +he heard you coming. He takes fits of being bashful once in a +while,--they don't last long. Your mother wasn't afraid to let you come +with our horses, was she?" + +"No ma'am," Faith said,--"not at all. But she hasn't got back her old +trust in horses and carriages generally. I wish she had." + +"I don't--" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh,--"they're not to be trusted +generally, child. Has your horse got well yet?" + +"Not well. Mr. Skip says he's better, but we can't use him." + +"Well I wanted to talk to you about that--Mr. Stoutenburgh's been at me +to do it this month. You know we've always got more horses on hand than +we can use--and there's one of 'em that would just suit you. Won't you +let him stand in your stable this winter?--and give Crab a chance." + +"O no, Mrs. Stoutenburgh!--thank you!" said Faith. "I dare say Crab +will get better--it won't be necessary; and you know we don't ride much +in winter. You're very kind to think of it." + +"There you are--as usual!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "I'm always afraid +to ask you anything, you keep such magnifying glasses. But now Faith, +listen to reason. Not ride in winter!--why it's the very time for +riding, if there's snow; and you could drive Jerry, or your mother +could, just as well as Crab--he's as quiet as he can be. At the same +time," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh with a little dance in her eyes, "if +anybody else drives him, he _can_ go a little faster." + +"I'll tell mother how good you are, Mrs. Stoutenburgh. It isn't my +business to give answers for her. But did you ever see me drive?" + +"Not horses," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing. + +"Not anything else, I am sure? I used to want to go after the cows, but +mother never would let me." + +But whatever Mrs. Stoutenburgh meant she did not explain, for dinner +was announced, and the Squire came up to take possession of Faith +again; receiving his wife's little whispered "I've done it!" with all +her own satisfaction. + +In the dining-room Sam was at last visible, but the bashful fit had not +gone off, and Faith's black silk was even more distracting than her +white muslin. Her greeting of him was simple enough to have been +reassuring. + +"I hope you will be as happy a great many times as you are to-day, +Sam," she said as she shook hands with him. "On the 29th of November, I +mean." + +Perhaps Sam thought that doubtful--perhaps impossible,--perhaps +undesirable. At all events his words were few; and though he was +permitted the post of honour at Faith's side, he did not do much for +her entertainment at first. + +The dinner itself, service and style and all included, was sufficiently +like the Squire and his wife. Handsome and substantial, free, +bountiful, and with a sort of laughing air of good cheer about it which +more ceremony would have covered up. There was no lack of talk, +either,--all the company having the ability therefor, and then, at +least, the inclination. But if Mr. Linden now and then called Sam out +of his abstraction, so did the Squire attack Faith; giving her a little +sword play to parry as best she might. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "do you know to what a point you are, day by +day, winding up the curiosity of this town of Pattaquasset?" + +"I, sir!" said Faith, apparently, by her eye and air, occupying the +place of the centre of motion to all this curiosity;--the point of +absolute rest. + +"My dear," said the Squire, "they say two things about you! The first +is that you never go out! Now don't trouble yourself to contradict +that, but just tell me the _reason_. We're all friends here, you know." + +"Why I go out very often indeed, Mr. Stoutenburgh!" said Faith. + +"Didn't I tell you not to contradict me? Ah Miss Faith!--young ladies +never will take advice! Well--the first thing is, as I said, that you +never go out. The second," said the Squire laughing, "is--that you do!" + +"Well sir," said Faith merrily,--"they can't both be true--and there +isn't anything very bad about either of them. Nor very curious, either, +I think." + +"What I should like to know," said Mr. Linden, "is, who keeps watch at +the gate?" + +"Squire Deacon does, for one," said Sam promptly. "I see him there +often enough." + +"When you come to relieve the guard?" said Mr. Linden smiling. And the +laugh was turned for the moment, rather to Sam's confusion. + +"So that's what the Squire's come back for, is it?" said Mr. +Stoutenburgh. "I thought somebody was to blame for his going away." + +"Nobody was _much_ to blame," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. + +"I had a long talk with Sam the other day--Sam Deacon, I mean," said +the Squire, "and he was keen to get acquainted with Dr. Harrison. And +as the doctor came along just then, I gave him a chance. I guess the +doctor blessed me for it!--I did him. By the way, Miss Faith, I s'pose +you've got acquainted with the doctor by this time?" + +"Yes sir--very well--" Faith said quietly, though she felt the ground +uneasy and unsafe. + +"Well what sort of a chap is he?--up to anything besides running away +with all he can lay his hands on?" + +"Don't you know him, Mr. Stoutenburgh?" + +"Can't say I do, Miss Faith,--it rather strikes me he's not anxious I +should." + +"How can he be anxious, sir, when you are not?" said Mr. Linden. "Isn't +that expecting too much?" + +The Squire laughed. + +"I don't expect too much of him," he said,--"and don't you expect too +little. After all, I'd as soon take a boy's mind as a man's--and he +aint popular among the boys. I thought he would be, after that +exhibition--but he aint." + +Which remark Mr. Linden knew to be true, though he did not say so. + +"Well, Mr. Stoutenburgh! if you don't like him why _do_ you talk about +him?" said his wife. "Faith--you can play blind man's buff, I'm sure?" + +"Wait a bit,--wait a bit," said the Squire--"I'm not ready to be +blinded yet, if she is. You ladies are always in such a hurry! Now Mr. +Linden and I want to have our ideas cleared up. What sort of a man is +the doctor, Miss Faith? You say you know him 'very well,'--do you like +him 'very much'?" + +This shot brought Faith to a stand and obliged her, to be sure, to +'shew her colours,' which she did bravely. Nevertheless she faced the +Squire and answered steadily. + +"I like him a good deal, Mr. Stoutenburgh--in some respects very much." + +"Hum--" said the Squire, as he cut a persuasive piece of duck and put +it on her plate. "Well wouldn't you like to tell me, my dear, what you +mean by 'some respects'?--That's Mrs. Stoutenburgh's word, and I never +could find out yet." + +"I suppose it means different things in different cases," said Faith +smiling. + +"Did you ever?"--said the Squire, taking a general survey of the table, +which began with Faith and ended with Mr. Linden, "Aint that half of +creation up to anything? I tell you what, Miss Faith, if _I_'d been in +that meadow 'tother day, I'd have made Mazeppa of the doctor in no +time,--Sam hasn't learnt to put his history in practice yet. And +besides," said the Squire, with a peculiarly slow, innocent +enunciation, "he never likes to do anything that would displease Mr. +Linden!" + +"Mr. Stoutenburgh!" said his wife, though she was laughing merrily +herself, "Can't you be quiet? Faith, why don't you answer me?" + +"What, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?"--Faith turned towards her a face from which, +gentle as it was, the smile had disappeared. + +"You play blind man's buff, don't you, dear?" + +"When I can," said Faith. + +"The real question, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, whose grave unmoved +look--unmoved unless by a little fear that she might be annoyed--would +have been some help to her during her cross-examination if she had seen +it,--"the real question is, whether you are willing to play to-night." + +"I am as willing as can be," said Faith. + +"I don't know whether they'll want to play it," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, +"but they may; and Sam's never content unless I'm in the fun, whatever +it is." + +"Of course Miss Faith will play," said the Squire,--"she never refuses +to please anybody." + +"Mr. Linden said he would," said Sam. + +"But how shall you and I manage, Faith?" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. +"They'd tell us in a minute by our dresses--as there are only two of +us." + +Faith pondered this difficulty with an amused face. + +"Sam must lend us some of his jackets or coats, Mrs. Stoutenburgh. Our +heads are the worst,--or mine is--you and Sam might be mistaken for +each other." + +"But there'd be no use in Miss Faith's disguising herself," said Sam +naively, "because she's so sweet." + +"You wouldn't have her disguise that, would you, Sam?" said Mr. Linden +laughing. + +"What a boy!" said his mother,--"and what a reflection upon me!" + +"Why I meant her flowers!" said Sam,--"you needn't all laugh so. I +don't mean either that I didn't mean--" but what more he meant Sam left +unsaid, which did not much stay the laughter. + +"I will appoint two or three boys to play the part of the pigeon in +hawking," said Mr. Linden,--"Miss Faith might get tired of being +caught, if not of running away." + +"How do you know that, Mr. Linden?" she said a little archly. + +"Truly," he answered, "I know it not--but most things are possible, +even in blind man's buff. And all boys are not provided with silk +gloves. But you shall not complain of not being caught--I promise you +that." + +"Again!" she said with another soft flash of her eye, though now she +coloured. "Don't you understand, Mr. Linden, that I don't intend to let +anybody catch me?--if I can help it." + +"Miss Faith, I have the most entire confidence in your intentions!" + +Faith kept her energies for action, and said no more. And in a very +harmonious temper the whole party left the dinner table and went back +to the fire-lit parlour. All but Sam, who went to be ready for his +particular guests in another room. + +His place was presently supplied by a new-comer. There was a step in +the hall--then the parlour door opened, and a little lady with a shawl +round her shoulders, came in. + +"Good evening!" she said in a very cheery voice. "Why I didn't expect +to find so many of you! Is it a party, Mrs. Stoutenburgh,--and shall I +go away? or will you let me come in, now I've got here?" + +"Come in, come in, Miss Essie, and make it a party," said the Squire; +while Mrs. Stoutenburgh took off the shawl and answered, + +"Go away? why of course not! It's only Sam's birth-day--you're not +afraid of boys, I guess." + +"I'm not afraid of anything," said Miss Essie, and her bright black +eyes said it too. "Isn't that Mr. Linden?--yes, I thought so. And Faith +Derrick!--my! child, how you're dressed. What sort of a party have you +got, Mrs. S.?" + +"Why, boys!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, while Mr. Linden said, + +"Good evening, Miss Essie--you know I am one of them." + +"Are you? I don't know much about you, except by hearsay, you know. I +am glad you are here to-night. I shall study you, Mr. Linden." + +Mr. Linden bowed his acknowledgments. + +"Will you want my help, Miss Essie?" + +She laughed. "Come!" said she--"don't get on too fast! I am beginning +to like you already. What are the boys doing, Mrs. Stoutenburgh? Sam's +birthday, did you say?" + +"Yes, it's Sam's birthday,--I don't suppose they're doing much yet +except coming," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "What they will do, no mortal +can say." + +"And you'll let them do anything! It must be a nice thing to be a boy, +with such a mother as Mrs. Stoutenburgh, Mr. Linden." + +His "yes" came readily enough, but was unaccompanied with any other +word whatever. Mrs. Stoutenburgh's "Do hush!"--was sufficiently +energetic though very low. + +"How old is Sam?" was the instant question, as if the whisper had +referred to him. + +"O Sam can't get beyond fourteen till he's twenty," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh laughing. "I suppose by that time I sha'n't care how old +he is." + +"I know who thinks he's a handsome fellow!" said Miss Essie shaking her +head,--"and that's not you, Mrs. S. _I_ know he's a smart one, for I +pinned a blue ribband to his coat once. I wonder if he loves me +properly for it.--Faith Derrick, how come you to be here, child?" + +"Why because Mrs. Stoutenburgh asked me," said Faith, answering this +sudden address with some surprise. + +"Wrong!" said Miss Essie. "There's some mistake about it. I've just +come from hearing you talked of." + +"Whom did you hear, Miss Essie?" said the Squire. "Come--give up your +authority." + +"I was at Judge Harrison's," said Miss Essie, after a considerative +look of her black eyes at the Squire;--"and that's all I am going to +tell you, Mr. Stoutenburgh! Mr. Linden, what do you think of the +propriety of people's talking about people?" + +"I think well of the propriety, when it exists." + +"Well what do you think of its existence? Honestly, now. I want to get +at your opinion." + +"I think its existence is rather limited and precarious, Miss Essie," +said Mr. Linden smiling. "It is one of those things that may be said to +have a delicate constitution." + +"Well," said Miss Essie again, smiling too, both with lips and +eyes,--"how could people get along in such a place as Pattaquasset, for +instance, without it? People must talk. And it is so pleasant to know +that Mrs. Stoutenburgh's son Sam is fifteen years old and had a party +on his birthday; and that Mr. Linden and Miss Derrick were there and +eat roast turkey;--and to know that Miss Essie de Staff went to New +York to get a new carpet for her best room and what the new style +is;--and that Miss Faith Derrick was run away with and brought home +again, and went through adventures. How could we do without talking of +these things? Now perhaps you will say it's immoral; but I'm in favour +of a _possible_ morality; and I say, how could Pattaquasset get along +without all this?" + +"Pattaquasset could get along without some of the things, to start +with," said the Squire. "I don't know what you call 'pleasant,' Miss +Essie, but I never was so angry in my life--since some rascal told me +Mrs. Stoutenburgh was going to marry somebody else," he added laughing. + +"But I say," said Miss Essie, "how could Pattaquasset get along without +_talking_ of these things? and I ask Mr. Linden. I want to know his +opinion." + +"I will not say that it could," said Mr. Linden.--"Miss Essie, you know +Pattaquasset better than I do." + +"Well do you think there is any harm in talking of them?" + +"What do you think of the modern definition of a young lawyer, Miss +Essie--'a man who is where he has no business to be, because he has no +business where he ought to be'?" + +Miss Essie laughed, and laughed. + +"Don't Sam get along fast with his reading and writing. Mr. +Stoutenburgh?" + +"Always did--" said the Squire; "and with everything else too. What are +you talking about? I lost that. I'd gone off to that rascal--" + +Miss Essie's laugh rang out again and her eyes danced. + +"That rascal! Now for shame, Mr. Stoutenburgh! You know better. I +wonder if you never had young horses yourself, and took Mrs. +Stoutenburgh to ride, too. Now I like him very much. Mr. Linden, you +know Dr. Harrison, don't you?" + +"I should--a little." + +"Well aren't you a judge of character? Do you think he deserves to be +called a rascal?" + +But Squire Stoutenburgh prevented the answer. "I wish you'd just stop +and let me catch up with you, Miss Essie," he said. "Now before we go +any further, whoever said he _was_ a rascal?--_I_ didn't." + +"Did you mean somebody else, Mr. Stoutenburgh?" + +"That's the way you talk over pleasant things!" said the Squire. "If I +hadn't hallooed after you, Miss Essie, I should have had a challenge +from the doctor before morning--or a shot,--that's getting to be the +fashion." + +"Do you think Dr. Harrison is that kind of man?" said Miss Essie. "Mr. +Linden, what kind of man do you think he is? You can tell better than +the Squire, and I want to know." + +"Miss Essie!--he is my friend and I am his,--you cannot expect me to +give you Dr. Harrison's components--'each with its Latin label on'!" + +"Not at all! but in general, how would you characterize him, if asked +what sort of a man he was!" + +"I should perhaps decline." + +Miss Essie had no chance to push her question, for Sam came with a +demand for Mr. Linden himself, which was at once obeyed. + +A little while passed, and then Mr. Linden came back again; and walked +composedly round to the back of Faith's chair. "Mrs. Stoutenburgh," he +said, "will you let me take this lady away for five minutes?--Miss +Faith, will you come?" + +Nothing loth, if the truth must be told, Faith rose up to follow his +leading; which was out of the parlour and through the hall. + +"Miss Faith," he said as he shut the door, "have you been conjugating +the verb s'ennuyer?" + +"No," she said. "I was amused to hear you and Miss Essie talk." + +"What singular ideas people have on the question of pleasant things!" +said Mr. Linden. "Come in here, Miss Faith"--and he opened the door of +a mingled library, study room, and office--"I want to give you (before +we go any further) the whole quotation which I did not dare to give +Miss Essie, though it would not have been meant for her, if I had." And +he took down one of the books, and read-- + + "'Her eye,--it seems a chemic test, + And drops upon you like an acid; + It bites you with unconscious zest, + So clear and bright, so coldly placid; + It holds--you quietly aloof, + It holds, and yet it does not win you; + It merely puts you to the proof + And sorts what qualities are in you,' &c. + + 'There you are classified: she's gone + Far, far away into herself; + Each with its Latin label on, + Your poor components, one by one, + Are laid upon their proper shelf + In her compact and ordered mind,' &c. + + 'O brain exact, that in thy scales + Canst weigh the sun and never err, + For once thy patient science fails, + One problem still defies thy art;-- + Thou never canst compute for her + The distance and diameter + Of any simple human heart.' + +That's comforting doctrine--isn't it?" he said smiling as he put up the +book. + +"How good that is!" said Faith, as much in the spirit of enjoyment as +of criticism. But it isn't just Miss Essie. It's more like"--She +stopped. + +"Well--who? No, it is not Miss Essie." + +"I was going to say, Mrs. Somers--but it is not Mrs. Somers, either. +She is more kind than that." + +"Yes, I think so--though she keeps her kindness under lock and key, +like her sweetmeats. Miss Faith, shall I give you a loophole view of +those boys--before you venture yourself among them?" + +She said yes, with a bright face that shewed her primed for any +enjoyment, or anything else perhaps, he might propose. He knew the +house, apparently, and led her out of one door and in at another, +giving her little undertone remarks by the way. + +"I know you and I agree in some of our notions about pleasant things," +he said, "or I should not presume that you would find this one. To some +people, you know, boys are mere receivers for Latin and Greek--to me +they are separate little pieces of humanity. I study them quite as much +as they do their lessons. Now you shall see them off their guard. This +room is dark--but I know the way." + +He took her hand as he spoke, and led her through the darkness to a +spot of shaded light at the further end of the room, whence too came +laughter and voices; then drew back the curtain from a sash door and +let her look in. + +It was pleasant, as he said,--the room was glowing with light, the boys +in a knot about the fire; some sitting, some standing, one or two +couchant upon the rug. Sam was the spokesman just then--the rest +listening, interrupting, applauding; the flashing firelight shewing +such different faces! such varied indications!--they looked like a +little Congress of representatives. + +"What are they doing, Mr. Linden? Sam is having a good time!--and all +the rest of them for that matter." + +"I am not quite sure what they are doing, Miss Faith,--Sam looks as if +he might be recounting some of his own exploits--for the twentieth +time." + +"But Reuben, who never would recount one of his, is five times as much +of a man." + +"Yes,--I wonder what Miss Essie would say of the two, respectively. She +means to study me to-night, you know," he said smiling--"and I mean she +shall! There comes Mrs. Stoutenburgh--now I shall take you in." + +Not by the sash door, but round again by another way they came upon the +little company. Mrs. Stoutenburgh had been in before, and her +reappearance had not made much change in the order of things; but when +Faith came in every boy rose to his feet, and the admiring looks were +only bounded by the number of eyes. They fell back right and left as +she came on towards the fire; and once seated there in an easy chair, +those who knew her came up to pay their respects--those who did not +stood still and paid them at a distance, whispering and touching each +other with, + +"My! ain't she handsome!"-- + +All of which amused at least two of the lookers-on. One or two of the +boys Mr. Linden brought up and presented. Faith however was presently +out of her chair of state and wound in and out among them, speaking to +those whom she knew or remembered at Neanticut. She was in a little +gale of good-fellowship by the time Mr. Linden with Miss Essie returned +to the room. + +"Well!" said Miss Essie. "Now what's the first order of things? Mr. +Linden, these are all your boys, I suppose?" + +"These are all and not all, Miss Essie." + +"Yes. Do they always do what you tell them?" + +"They are extraordinary boys!" said Mr. Linden. "Not one of them has a +will of his own." + +"Oh!" said Miss Essie. "What has become of their wills? Have you stolen +them? Now I am going to put that to the proof. Sam Stoutenburgh--you +are not twenty years old yet, your mother says; have you a will of your +own?" + +"Mother says I have," replied Sam. + +"Ah!--you see!" said Miss Essie. "_You_ sir,--I know you but I don't +remember you,--your teacher says you haven't a will of your own--now is +it true? I want to know." + +"A will of my own, ma'am?" Reuben repeated, looking doubtfully from +Miss Essie to Mr. Linden. "Against whose, if you please?" + +"Well--" said Miss Essie, a little surprised, and laughing--"upon +honour, will you tell the truth?" + +"I'll try, ma'am." + +"Against Mr. Linden's. Now upon honour!--I'll go bail for you." + +The bail was not needed. Reuben's quiet "No, ma'am, and don't want to +have," was very forcible. + +"I declare!" said Miss Essie turning to Mr. Linden,--"you're a +wonderful man!--For of course Sam's word is _his mother's_ word, and +that's nothing in the circumstances. I wish I had been so happy as to +be a boy and go to school to you, Mr. Linden! All my life my trouble +has been a will of my own; and I never found anybody that could deprive +me of it." + +"Nor yourself ready to give it up?" + +"Of course! but I never could, you know. It was stronger than I." + +"I'll tell you what," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, coming up, "if you two +people want to talk any more, you've got to stand out of the +way,--Faith and I are going to have a game with these boys." + +"What sort of game?" + +"Why blind man's buff," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "Sam--go to my room and +fetch that plaid ribband that lies on the bed." + +"Now I'll tell you," said Miss Essie, "you must play this game as they +do it up at Suckiaug. Any game wants a stake, you know, Mr. +Stoutenburgh, to make it thoroughly interesting. You must play it this +way. Everybody that is caught and _found_, must answer any question the +person catching chooses to ask. And if he refuses to answer, he must +answer some other question and give a reason for it. That'll make 'em +fly round!" + +In the midst of a little general bustle that ensued, Faith was startled +at finding that her rose and myrtle were gone. The next instant a hand +presented them unceremoniously under her face, and an abrupt voice +announced, "Here's your flowers!" It was even Phil Davids who had done +it. Faith seized her flowers, and then sprang after Phil and thanked +him very gratefully; rightly hailing this civility as an omen for good. +The flowers were next bestowed carefully in a glass of water, to be in +safety till the play should be over. + +Now began the fun of robing and disrobing. The ladies pinned up their +silk skirts into order and quiet compass, and pulled on over their arms +and shoulders whatever boys' gear would fit. Faith was jaunty in a +little cloth jacket which covered her arms; Miss Essie wrapped about +her a plaid travelling shawl of the Squire's. Mrs. Stoutenburgh +deferred her disguising till she should need it, being in the first +place to be the catcher, not the caught. Mr. Linden on his part chose +to rely on his own resources for safety, but two or three of the boys +tied on shawls and scarfs--soon discarded in the mêlée. + +If Sam's intent was to have a steady game of running, never to produce +results--unless fatigue and laughter--he had well chosen the first +'catcher.' Mrs. Stoutenburgh's powers of entanglement lay not in that +line, though she ran about with the most utter good will and merriment. +But how the boys jumped over her arms!--or dived under them! How Sam +caught her round the waist, and even kissed her, regardless of danger! +She might have been playing till this time, if Mr. Linden had not +interposed and gallantly suffered himself to be caught. + +"We'll have to step round now, I tell _you!_" said one of the +boys,--"this'll be another guess sort of a run!" + +"Look out for yourself now, Miss Faith!" said Reuben--both which things +were profoundly true and necessary. And Faith soon found out that she +was the quarry--and that pigeons were of no avail. Whether Mr. Linden +had heard her steps about his sick room till he had learned them by +heart,--whether the theory of 'spirits touching' held good in this +case,--he gave her a swift little run round the room, and shut her up +gracefully in the corner. Then with the simplicity which characterized +most of his proceedings, disregarding jacket and cap, he took hold of +her hand and inquired, + +"Miss Faith--do you consider yourself disguised?" + +The soft laugh which it was impossible to keep back, answered to his +ear, as the flush which overspread Faith's face answered to eyes of the +rest of the company. + +"That will do to begin with," he said as he took off the plaid ribband, +while Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughed and clapped her hands after her own +lively fashion. + +"But Miss Faith!" said Sam--"don't tie up your head, please!--if you +shut your eyes it will do just as well." + +"You can't see her eyes if they're shut, you foolish boy," said Mr. +Linden,--"go off and attend to your own affairs. Miss Faith, shall I +tie this on--or do you wish for a deputy?" + +There is a great deal of character that comes out in a play! Miss Essie +might have had excellent opportunity for prosecuting her "studies," if +she had not been busy on her own score. For Faith did not play like +Mrs. Stoutenburgh. She played like herself--with a gentleness that +never overstepped delicate bounds; but her foot was light and true, and +her movements fearless and free as those of the very boys. It was a +pretty game that she played. It would have been a short one, but that +it was so hard to identify her captives. One boy after another Faith +caught,--to the feeling they were all alike! At last her hand seized an +other prize, and her voice exclaimed, Mr. Stoutenburgh! + +There was a sharp change about now between the older and the younger +people. Faith did her best not to be caught again. But after half a +dozen changes between Mr. Linden and the boys, he again had the +pleasure of investing her with the plaid ribband. + +"May I give her the question?" whispered Miss Essie at Mr. Linden's ear. + +"No indeed!" said Mr. Linden.--"Miss Faith, what is the difference +between a bird and a philosopher?" + +Somewhat to the surprise as well as amusement of the company, the +answer to this was the heartiest, merriest bit of a laugh; then she +said, + +"One looks round the corner, Mr. Linden!" + +"Well you won't see round the corner now," he said softly and laughing +as he tied on the ribband. "Miss Faith! do you mean to say I did?" + +She said "no," and ran away. But Faith was not in luck this time, for +she caught Miss Essie. And Miss Essie in a few minutes got the chance +she wanted at Faith. She wouldn't have had it, for Faith ran too well +and vanished too skilfully; but a little knot of the boys getting into +a knot just in her way and at the wrong time, Faith fell a prey. + +"Now," said her captor unbinding her ribband, "what do you think I am +going to ask you?" + +Faith was very doubtful on the subject, and waited in silence. + +"Only a matter of taste," said Miss Essie. "Who do you +think"--(speaking slowly)--"is the handsomest man in Pattaquasset?" + +The colour mounted in Faith's cheeks too distinctly to leave any room +for the doubt that no other answer was at hand. She avoided Miss +Essie's black eyes. + +"Come!" said that lady. + +"I can't tell you,"--said Faith, amid the laughter of some of the +company, which was enormous. + +"You can't!" said Miss Essie. "Now you are at my mercy. You have got to +tell me something else and give your reason. What do you think is the +best profession a man can follow?" + +"Any one is good that is used right," said Faith, looking down and +speaking with difficulty,--"but I suppose the _best_ is a minister's." + +"Why?" said Miss Essie, disappointed. + +"Because the business of that profession is to lead men to +heaven;--that of others is only to fit them for earth." + +"My dear, you're a fine girl!" said the Squire--willing Faith should +say anything that cut out Dr. Harrison. "Miss Essie, what do you mean +by asking her such a string of questions?--how can she tell who's the +handsomest man? She wouldn't like to hurt Mr. Linden's feelings by +saying me, nor to make us both mad by saying anybody else--if there was +anybody else to speak of." + +"You hush, Mr. Stoutenburgh!" said Miss Essie. "Don't you know how to +ask questions? Now Faith Derrick--run off with yourself." Faith obeyed +with a trifle less than her usual spirit; but the game presently called +it back again. Darting about, like some gentle-hearted hawk, among +those flying pigeons, she had seized one boy and another with her usual +bad success in the matter of identifying, when the boys suddenly +cleared away a little--anxious perhaps that Mr. Linden should be caught +again; for of all the players he gave _them_ the most fun. And so +effectually did they clear the way--so ineffectually did he protect +himself! that the next grasp of Faith's hand was upon his arm. And her +voice gravely announced that she knew it. + +"Now Faith!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, "do puzzle him if you can--give +him a hard question." + +"She does not want to ask me any questions," said Mr. Linden as he +untied the ribband. "You forget, Mrs Stoutenburgh, how many she can ask +every day. Now with Miss Essie the case is quite different." + +Very quiet and pleasant was the look bent on Faith,--very cool and +undisturbed the manner. "Miss Faith, are you tired?--I must be +philosophical enough to inform you that there is a shadow of +puss-in-the-corner!" + +And a very plain expression of gratitude was in her eyes and smile as +she answered, "No, I'm not tired, Mr. Linden--but I would as lieve look +on as play." + +That seemed to be the general grown-up mind; but before the looking on +had lasted long, everybody was called into another room to supper. +There the boys were left somewhat to themselves at one end of the +table, and the half dozen others stood or sat in the warm fireplace +corner at the other. Mr. Linden indeed, and Squire Stoutenburgh, were +both "boys" very often; but their returns to the ladies were frequent +and prolonged. Faith was enthroned in a great chair, and there petted +by Mrs. Stoutenburgh, while everybody brought her things by turns--a +privilege highly prized by some of the boys. Neither could Miss Essie +complain of want of attention, while Mrs. Stoutenburgh and Mr. Linden +took laughing care of each other between whiles. + +"Miss Essie," he said as he brought her a cup of coffee, "where are you +in the pursuit of knowledge?" + +Miss Essie laughed; yet not a triumphant laugh, nor even a satisfied +one; it might be considered doubtful. + +"I think," she said, "you are one of a sort I don't much understand, +Mr. Linden--perhaps because I don't know them much. Aren't you one of +what I may call the _good_ sort?" + +Faith's laugh, which was indeed very low but unavoidable, was the first +testimony. + +"I hope you may--" said Mr. Linden,--"the words sound pleasant. I am +not quite sure what they mean." + +"Ah! There you are again!" said Miss Essie. "As difficult to catch at +other things as at blind man's buff. Well I'll be frank with you, for I +don't mean to offend you. I mean, the sort of people who are called +'rigidly righteous'--people who think it incumbent on them to be better +than their neighbours." + +"O no--" said Mr. Linden,--"I quite disclaim that. I only think it +incumbent on me to be better than myself." + +"Yes, but you are one of the people I mean--aren't you?" + +"Not according to that term, Miss Essie. May I ask what you mean by the +other?" + +"Rigidly righteous?" + +"Yes." + +"Why I told you--people that pretend to be better than people in +general. People in general, you know, get on without pretending much to +be good at all: and of course it's disagreeable to be brought short up +at every turn with 'you ought not,' and 'you ought;' and whether it is +said or acted don't make much difference. Now here's this child, a +little while ago, thought she mustn't say anything was good but a +minister. + +"Do you mean Christians?" said Mr. Linden. + +"Well--" said Miss Essie, "I hope we're all _Christians_--aren't we? +We're not heathens." + +"I mean the followers of Christ. Is that what you meant? I do wear the +badge of that 'Legion of Honour.'" + +Miss Essie looked fidgeted. Faith was letting her ice-cream melt while +she listened. Mrs. Stoutenburgh in the midst of supper-table attentions +gave an anxious eye and ear to the conference, which she would not +interrupt. + +"Well now tell me what _you_ mean by that?" said Miss Essie, feeling +herself in some confusion, of terms at least. + +"Can I find plainer words? You know what was meant by a follower in the +old feudal times?" + +"No I don't," said Miss Essie beginning to sip her coffee again. "Tell +me!" + +"A follower was one who binding himself to the service his lord +required of him, thenceforth paid it--in peace or in war,--to the end +of his life. And the terms of agreement were two-fold,--fidelity on the +one side, protection on the other. 'They follow me,' says Christ, 'and +I give unto them eternal life.'" + +"Yes, but," said Miss Essie, "do you think it is required that we +should put ourselves so much out of the way to be good? I think people +were meant to enjoy themselves." + +"_I _enjoy myself--" said Mr. Linden smiling a little. "What think you +makes the lark fly circling up into the very sunbeams, singing as lie +goes?--is it duty? is it to rise above the robins and sparrows?" + +"I don't understand you!" said Miss Essie respectfully. + +"That is just the inner life of many a Christian,--his very heart-cry +is, + + 'Nearer, my God, to thee! + Nearer to thee! + E'en though it be a cross, + That raiseth me!'--" + + +"Well, you think nobody can be safe that don't live just so?" persisted +Miss Essie. + +"In whom such a life is not at least begun?--How can it be, Miss Essie? +Safe? without the blessing of God?" + +"Well there we differ," said the lady. "That's what I mean by being +rigidly righteous. I think every one must judge for himself." + +A little more erect Mr. Linden stood, drawing himself up slightly--it +was his wont sometimes under a touch of excitement, and spoke with his +deep emphasis these words-- + +"'This is life eternal, to know thee, the only true God, and Jesus +Christ whom thou hast sent.'--Miss Essie, where is your permit for free +judgment against the Bible?" + +"I didn't mean _that_," said Miss Essie, lowering her crest. "But I +mean that everybody can't be good after your strict way." + +"I am not standing up for myself, you know," said he pleasantly, "nor +denying that you have described me right; but what a follower of Christ +_ought_ to be, is no more rigid than sunlight--or than the wings of +angels. Yet both sun and angels 'always do his commandment' who made +them both." + +"Oh people can't be sunlight--nor angels neither, in this world. You're +Utopian! That's what I said." + +"They can be 'burning and shining lights,'" said Mr. Linden. "Miss +Essie, will you gainsay the Bible? Why can they not?" + +"They _can_ be--but I suppose they aren't obliged to be; or what is to +become of us all?" said Miss Essie, half seriously half defiantly. + +"That will depend upon whom we follow," he answered gravely. + +"Well now, Mr. Linden, how many people in the world are 'followers' in +the way you have described them?--and are all the rest going to +destruction? Take the people in this room now, for instance,--boys and +all here's twenty of us perhaps. How many do you suppose are here of +your way of 'following'? You're one--who's another? Stand off there, +and see whom you can get to join you!" + +"Stand off and say with Moses--'who is on the Lord's side?'--there +would be several, Miss Essie." + +"Well count up," said Miss Essie. "I suppose they have no objection to +shew themselves. You are one--who's another?" + +"I am another," said Faith, rising and setting down her ice cream. + +"You!"--said Miss Essie turning the black eyes upon her,--"you look +like it, child!" + +"You must put the 'rigid' out of your head," Mr. Linden said, with a +smile which changed as he spoke. + +"Well who else?" said Miss Essie, for some reason or other in an +impatient temper. "Tell them your definition, will you, and ask who'll +stand by you. Mrs. Stoutenburgh!--make them all stop and attend." + +"If I ask them you may think they come to please me." + +"No, no, you know how to say it. Mr. Stoutenburgh!--boys!--listen. I +want to know how many there are here of a particular kind of +people--Mr. Linden will tell you what kind." + +He spoke then--as Faith had once or twice heard him speak, sending his +voice through the room almost without raising it. + +"Miss Essie de Staff wishes to know how many there are here of a +particular kind of people--those that 'have sworn unto the Lord, and +will not go back.' Whoever is of that number will please come over to +this side." + +There was a little astonished pause. Mr. and Mrs. Stoutenburgh, just +then at the further end of the room, had moved at Miss Essie's summons, +but stopped short at the first sound of Mr. Linden's voice, and looked +in a sort of maze,--_he_ clearly was not jesting, that was all they +could make out. That too the boys saw: but for a minute they stood like +statues,--then Reuben stepped from the group and walked quietly, +deliberately, over to where Mr. Linden stood; the covenant-signing in +his face glowing with the Free Church addition--"until death!" + +One and another followed him--one after another,--Faith was surprised +to see how many: ranging themselves about Mr. Linden. But something in +it all touched him--stirred him,--something perhaps personal to himself +and them; for after the first three or four had come he looked no +more,--his eyes fell, and the firmly compressed lips could not quite +conceal their trembling. He stood as statue-like as the boys had done. + +In the interest of a moment and a scene that she never forgot, it was a +simple thing that Faith lost thought of her own standing. Perhaps Miss +Essie shared her oblivion of self for that minute; her look of uneasy +curiosity changed to a sobriety that was almost awe. Perhaps +self-recollection came back; for after eying the dumb show with +uncommonly blank black eyes, both they and she suddenly started into +action. + +"That will do," she said with voice and gesture,--"you may go +back--scatter! and be boys again. Mr. Linden, what I complain of is, +that you say _you_ are on the Lord's side and that everybody else is +not!" + +His thoughts came back slowly, as from some far distant region,--he +even turned to Faith and wheeled up a chair for her before he answered. + +"No, Miss Essie--those last words I believe I never said. But the 'Lord +knoweth them that are his'--let each one have answering knowledge for +himself." + +Miss Essie's look was not comfortable. She abandoned the point in hand, +and swallowed her cold coffee. + +"What _are_ you talking about?" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh coming up to +them. "What sort of a game was that, Miss Essie?" + +"Nothing,"--said Miss Essie. "I said I would study Mr. Linden--and I +have. I've found out two things about him." + +"I wonder if he's been studying too!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh.--"What +are the two things? Miss Essie, your coffee's just as cold as Faith's +ice is warm!--that comes of talking when you ought to be eating. Mr. +Linden--just help Mr. Stoutenburgh with that little table, please--and +I'll have the coffee-pot here and be comfortable." + +"And I shall tell Miss Essie a story about fishes," said Mr. Linden as +he obeyed. + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh sat down behind her coffee-pot, while the gentlemen +went back and forth between the two tables, bringing cups and cake and +what else was needed for this "German cotillion," as Mr. Linden called +it. During which interlude Miss Essie, after taking an observant view +of Faith, gave her a significant private admonition, that "somebody" +would not like her being there. Faith in vain endeavoured to get some +light on this dark information; Miss Essie was startling but +enigmatical, and suddenly turned from her and asked Mr. Linden "what +was the story he had promised?" + +"Not much of a _story_, though I called it one. It has to do with the +way different races of fishes _wear their bones_." + +"Well?" said Miss Essie, using her eyes; while Faith forgot her flushed +cheeks and used hers. + +"You are perhaps aware," he said smiling, "that even fishes have their +inflexible points; in other words, a region of bone _somewhere_." + +Miss Essie bowed her head, mentally ejaculating, "You have!" + +"And all the fossil tribes, as well as those which now exist, are +divided into two great classes,--those which wear their bones on the +outside, and those which wear them within. The first have a perfect +plate armour--jointed and fitted and carved, piece by piece; but the +inner framework is merely cartilaginous. The others, while they _shew_ +nothing but pliant flesh, have an internal structure of bone which can +outlast ages." + +"Curious!" said Miss Essie, eying him all the while carefully. "Then I +suppose we are all fishes!" + +"I was thinking--apropos to our talk awhile ago--of the intangible, +unseen nature of a Christian's strength. The moment his defence is worn +on the outside, that moment there is a failure of strength within. His +real armour of proof is nothing more 'rigid,' Miss Essie, than 'the +girdle of truth,' 'the breastplate of righteousness,' and 'for a helmet +the hope of salvation.'" + +"Very good armour," said Miss Essie; "but can't he wear it without +being unlike other people?" + +"_Can_ he?" + +"Look here," said Squire Stoutenburgh, "what have you been about? If +you've been studying anatomy, Mr. Linden, I'll go learn dancing!" + +And the conversation diverged. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + + +Faith pondered probably Miss Essie's enigmatical words; but she said +nothing on the subject even to her mother. Other people's words and +looks had produced their share of disturbance at the time; disturbance +that Faith did not like to recollect. And she would not recollect it, +practically. It left no trace on her face or behaviour. The simplicity +of both, unchanged in a whit, testified for her that her modesty would +not take such hints from other people's testimony, and that there was +no folly in her to be set fluttering at the suggestion. + +The next Wednesday morning was one of great promise,--fair and soft and +quiet, with November's sunshine softening November's brown dress. + +"I think, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said before he went off after +breakfast, "that you should take a short run or two, before you try +that long one to Mattabeeset." + +"A run, Mr. Linden? Didn't I have one last night?" + +"Truly yes,--but I mean on horseback. Will you take such a one to-day?" + +"Yes!" said Faith, looking different things, especially pleasure,--"but +Mr. Linden, I don't know where I am to get a horse. Crab can't go now." + +"Well, as I am to play the part of page, and run by your side," said +Mr. Linden, "I am rather glad he can't!--no disrespect to his other +good qualities. When will you be ready, Miss Faith?" + +The hour fixed upon had need to be early, for the days were short; so +though books had a little time after dinner, it was but a little. Then +the horses came; and Mr. Linden took Faith in charge, with words from +her mother that might have been very useful if they had been +needed,--which in his case they hardly were. A fact which his reply, or +the manner of it, seemed to impress upon Mrs. Derrick's mind, for she +saw them ride off with nothing but pleasure. + +Other people saw them with a variety of emotions All the boys they met +(except Sam) looked unqualified delight,--from her window Mrs. +Stoutenburgh gave them a gay wave of her hand; Miss Bezac on the +sidewalk absolutely turned to look again. They rode leisurely up the +grassy road, hardly beyond a walk at first, and it was not till the +houses grew few and the road more open, that Faith had her promised +run: which was but an easy trot, after all. + +"You must begin very gently, Miss Faith," said her companion as they +walked their horses up a little hill. "Look how those topsails mark the +water line!" + +"Yes--don't you like to see the white sails peeping over the trees? I +always do. But Mr. Linden, I don't get tired easily--you needn't be +afraid. I can go just as fast as you like." She looked enough in the +mood. + +"You know I am interested in the matter,--if I should come home +to-morrow and find you gone to sleep at midday--I should lose my French +lesson! Now you may have another run." + +This run was rather a long one, yet came to an unexpected end, for +turning a woody point in the road the two riders saw a wagon before +them, so directly in their way, that the run changed to a walk even +before they perceived that the wagon was in distress. Some bit of +harness, some pin, had given way, and the driver had dismounted to +repair damages. But moody, or intent upon his work, Faith's horse was +close upon him before he looked up--then she saw it was Squire Deacon. +He looked down again as suddenly, with only a slight motion of his hand +to his hat. + +Faith's first impulse would have been to rush on; but she checked that. +Her next would have been to wait and leave somebody else to speak +first; but she overcame that too. So it was her very clear gentle voice +that asked, + +"Are you in trouble here, Mr. Deacon?" + +The Squire had no time to give his answer, and scarce a moment wherein +to concoct it, for Mr. Linden had dismounted and now came between +Faith's horse and the wagon, with,--"What is the matter, Squire +Deacon?--can I help you?" + +The Squire looked up them, full, with a face that darkened as he looked. + +"It's you, is it?" he said slowly. "I thought it was Dr. Harrison!" + +"Can I help you?" Mr. Linden repeated--and the tone was a little +peremptory. + +Sullenly and slowly the Squire told the damage--the broken harness, the +lost lynch-pin; and let Mr. Linden take the first out of his hands, and +do what he chose with it; looking on the while--then by degrees taking +hold himself and working with him as with any other man, but throwing +off jealously the kindness of his helper's words or manner. It was a +grave kindness, certainly, but it did not belie the name. Faith sat +looking on. After awhile her voice broke the silence. + +"Did you say a lynch-pin was wanting, Mr. Deacon?" + +"There's one gone." + +"I should like to be doing something to help. Will you lend me your +knife, Mr. Deacon?--and I'll try." But that brought a hand on her +bridle. + +"I cannot trust your horse out of my sight, Miss Faith,--I will get +what is wanting." + +"There's no use in anyone's doing anything," said Squire Deacon, by way +of a settler; and the harness work went on in silence. + +Faith waited a little. + +"I am not the least afraid," she said then, leaning over her horse's +neck but speaking no name. "There's a place only a little way back +where I think I can get a lynch-pin,--if _anybody_ will lend me a +knife. Please let me go and be doing something! I want to go." + +"This cord," said Mr. Linden, taking one up from the bottom of the +wagon--"is it wanted for any special purpose, Squire Deacon?" + +"I guess if you ask Joe _he_ could tell you," said the Squire with a +glance that way. "'_Twas_ good for something, but he's tied it in forty +knots--just to see if I'd be fool enough to pick 'em out." + +"It would be very useful about this harness," said Mr. Linden,--"will +you try and get rid of the knots?"--and he handed Faith the cord, with +a smile which said she must make that do instead of the lynch-pin. + +Which Faith did not particularly like, for she had a strong hankering +for the ride back to the bushes. She dropped the bridle upon her +horse's neck, and began to exercise her patience and skill upon the +knots. + +"I wish I had a knife!" she said as she did so, "and I'd shew you that +I am not afraid." And a little colour rose in her face, which rather +grew. + +"_That's_ easy," said Squire Deacon, looking suddenly up and extending +his hand. "Here's one as'll cut through most things." Mr. Linden's head +was bent over the harness,--neither eye nor hand stirred from his work. + +"Thank you, Mr. Deacon," said Faith, feeling the blood rise to her +brow,--"but I won't go for it now.--I'll do this first." In her +confusion Faith did not see another person that joined the group, till +he was standing at her horse's side. + +"What sort of a bee are you gettin' up here on the high-way?" said Mr. +Simlins in his good-humoured growl (and he had a variety.) "What _air_ +you doin' on horse-back?" + +"There's harness to be mended here, Mr. Simlins--and I'm making rope +for it." + +"You go 'long!" said he. "Who are you makin' rope for? Give that to +me?" But Faith held fast. + +"No, Mr. Simlins, you can't have it--I am bound to get out these knots. +There is work doing round here, that perhaps you can help." + +Mr. Simlins stooped under her horse's head and went round to the other +side, and then for the first time he got a full view. + +"That's the way you perform actions!" he said; seeming too profoundly +struck to be at all wordy. "'Say and Seal' I guess you be! What's the +matter with you, Squire?" + +"If anything is, I haint heard of it," said Mr. Deacon, with the knife +lying heavy against his ribs. "Mr. Linden's turned +harness-maker--that's the last news." + +"O are you there, Mr. Simlins?" said the new mechanic, looking up from +his work. + +"Can't be more unlikely than you," said the farmer, beginning on his +part to finger the broken harness. "How _you_ come to be here passes +all my imagery. That'll do smartly. Where did you learn all trades? I +don't see, Squire Deacon, but he's as good at mendin' as you be at +marrin'. What do _you_ think?" + +"I don't see as one man has much to do with another," said Mr. Deacon +lucidly. + +"Yes, that will do," said Mr. Linden. "Now Miss Faith--give me that +cord if you please, and you shall go after the lynch-pin." + +"No," she said pleasantly,--"it'll be done in a minute--I want to +finish it." + +"When did you get back from York, Squire?" said Mr. Simlins--"and what +took you away? I haint heerd yet. I never believed you were gone _for +good_--though folks said it." + +"'Taint generally worth while to believe what folks says," replied the +Squire. "I've been back three weeks, I guess. Shouldn't wonder if I +went again though." + +"Shouldn't wonder if you did," said Mr. Simlins. "I would if I was +you--if I wanted to. Mr. Linden, it was a providential thing, that you +should come along at this idiomatical moment. There aint another man in +Pattaquasset would ha' done this so good as you." + +"There is another line of business open to me then," said Mr. Linden, +who had begun upon the other end of the piece of cord with opposition +fingers. + +"What _aint_ open to you?" said Mr. Simlins. "Do you know of anything? +Give us that cord--will you?" + +"Yes, you may have it now--the knots are all out," said Mr. Linden, as +he put the disentangled cord in the hands of Mr. Simlins and himself in +the saddle. "Now Miss Faith, you shall have a lesson in +lynch-pins--s'il vous plaît." + +"You do beat all!" said Squire Deacon looking up from under his hat, +and with a voice that kept his eyes company. + +Faith looked very pretty as she turned her horse in obedience to the +intimation given her, with a somewhat demure smile and blush upon her +face. Mr. Simlins looked, as well as the Squire, with a different +expression. + +"Well, I guess you're about right!" was his answering remark. "I do +believe he can get the whip hand of most things. He's a Say and Seal +man, he says." To which, however, the Squire deigned no response. +Stooping over his harness, fingering and fitting, he was silent a +little; then spoke in a careless, half inquiring half assenting sort of +way. + +"What wonders me is, why he don't marry that girl out of hand. I reckon +she'd follow him down that road as easy as she does down others. What's +he waiting for?" + +"I guess he haint pitched upon a likely place to settle yet,"--said Mr. +Simlins, in a manner equally careless and devoid of reliable +information. Squire Deacon gave a little inarticulate reply. + +"He'd better hurry up--" he said,--"Dr. Harrison's giving chase." + +"Is he?" said Mr. Simlins. "He'll be where the dog was when he chased +the wolf--if he's spry. I shouldn't wonder." + +"O--you think he's a wolf, do you?" said Mr. Deacon. "Well--the +doctor's chance aint much the worse of that." + +"Don't look very carnivorous," said Mr. Simlins, "but I aint sure. I +wouldn't be so quick in my presumptions, Squire. You'll shoot the wrong +game one of these days--if you haint already." + +"Think so?" said the Squire. "Well, I aint after the game they are, any +way, so it don't matter to me which of 'em gets her. Most folks say +it's like to be the doctor,--_she_ seems tryin' 'em both by turns." + +The riders, on their part, had a short run back on the road they had +come, to where there was a hedge and thicket and trees together; and +Faith's horse being led close up to the side of the hedge, and she +herself provided with a knife, she was free to cut as many lynch-pins +as she chose. But at this point Faith handed back the knife. "I can't +do it half so well," she said. "I would rather you did it, Mr. Linden." + +"You would rather not do it?" he said looking at her. "Is _no_ bread +pleasant but that 'eaten in secret'?" + +Faith coloured very much. "I didn't care about _doing_ it, Mr. Linden, +except to be useful, and for the enterprise of going off for it by +myself. And I didn't care about _that_, more than two minutes." + +"You know I had a charge about you before we came out," he said, taking +the knife and bending down towards the hedge to use it. "But for +that--or a like one in my own mind--you should have had your +enterprise. There--I think that may serve the purpose." + +The lynch-pin being delivered, the riders left the distressed wagon +behind; and again the free road stretched before them; the soft air and +light filled all the way and even the brown tree stems with +pleasantness. The horses felt they had had a rest and pricked up their +ears to be in motion again, and the minds of the riders perhaps felt a +stir of the like kind. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "a German writer says, that 'one should +every day read a fine poem, look upon an excellent picture, hear a +little good music, and, if possible, speak a few sensible words.'" + +"Why do you tell that to me, Mr. Linden?" + +"I consider it my duty to keep you well informed as to yours." + +"But then!" said Faith, who by dint of trotting had got into as merry a +mood as her gentleness often wore, "I hope you will also think it your +duty, Mr. Linden, to tell me how I can _perform_ mine. Will you?" + +"Of course!--please speak a few sensible words to me at once." + +"You begin with the easiest thing!" said Faith. + +"Yes, I am generally considerate. But as it is part of my duty to hear +a little good music, I am willing you should sing first." + +Music he had, though not exactly of the specified sort; for Faith's +laugh rolled along the road, like the chafing of silver pebbles in a +brook. + +"Now for the next part," said Mr. Linden smiling. + +"I think I have done too much already," said Faith growing grave. +"Besides," she added, the corners of her mouth all alive again, "I +don't remember what the next part is, Mr. Linden." + +"Why the sensible words!--what are the most sensible you can think of +on a sudden, Miss Faith?" + +"I don't know that I could think of anything very sensible on a sudden, +Mr. Linden. Is it my duty to do it on sudden?" + +"It might be, Miss Faith. Indeed I think it is now!" + +"What would you like them to be about, Mr. Linden? and I'll try." + +"Nay, you may choose: sense is of universal application." + +"If I should say what was uppermost," said Faith, "it would be, How +very pleasant what we are doing now, is!" + +"Which part?" + +"Both parts!--Every part! One makes the other more pleasant." And +Faith's happy face looked so. + +"Very sensible words!" said Mr. Linden smiling. "I agree to them +perfectly,--which is, you know, in every mind, the great test of sense. +The picture, Miss Faith, we have before us." + +"Yes,--isn't it lovely to-day, Mr. Linden? and hasn't it been lovely +ever since we set out? Except that broken harness--and I don't think +that has hurt anything, either." + +"No, I am not sure that even the harness was much the worse. And 'it' +has been very lovely. As for the poem, Miss Faith, you cannot be +trusted with that--and must resign yourself to hearing it read. What +shall it be?" + +"I don't know," said Faith. "I know hardly any poetry, Mr. Linden, +except what I have heard you read. Will you read some, perhaps, this +evening?" + +"Yes--every evening, if you like,--if we are to follow Göthe's rule. +Just before tea is a good time, don't you think so?" + +"Yes indeed!" said Faith, whose colour rose from pure pleasure, as her +thought went back to L'Allegro and Il Penseroso. "I don't think there +is any time pleasanter for it. But they're all pleasant--I've dropped +my whip, Mr. Linden!"-- + +"I will get it for you," he said checking his horse, "if you will +promise not to run away! I am afraid of your 'enterprising' spirit, +Miss Faith." + +But her look at him was a little touched and deprecating. They turned +their horses together and went back a few steps. There was no trouble +in finding the whip, for just where it had been dropped, a boy stood +holding it on high for Faith's acceptance The boy was Phil Davids. + +"Thank you, Phil!" said Faith, surprised and grateful. + +"I see it go out of your hand," said Phil. + +"Yes," said. Mr. Linden--whose smile and word of thanks had accompanied +Faith's,--"Phil has singularly quick eyes. They have done me good +service before." + +As they turned again, Farmer Davids stood at their horses' heads. They +were just at the farmer's door, and he so entreated them to come 'in +and rest,' that there was no refusing his hospitality. It was large, +and various--Pumpkin pies and cider, and much pouring forth of +gratitude and admiration for Mr. Linden's success with Phil. + +"What have you done to that fellow?" his father remarked admiringly to +Mr. Linden. "You never see such an alteration in a boy. He +used--oncet--to talk hard words agin you, sir;--you won't mind hearing +it now; but he's come all about, and lately there's nothing to Phil's +mind can equal up to Mr. Linden. He don't _say_ much about it, sir, but +it's evident. And he's been at me and his mother this fortnight or two, +to give him something to make a present to you--the boys do, he says; +and he wants the best thing on the farm should go, and so do I, sir, if +we knowed oncet what would be most favourable. It would be a kindness, +sir, as I should be grateful for,--if you'd say what would do you most +service or be most pleasure--of anything that is on the farm;--fruit or +vegetables or dairy. We're plain folks, sir; I say what I mean. Take +some pie, Mr. Linden!--some cider, sir?" + +Answering these various questions and demands as best he might, Mr. +Linden contrived to convince Mr. Davids that Phil himself was the thing +"on the farm" that he cared most about; and his goodwill, better than +any special manifestation thereof; giving at the same time full and +grateful thanks for the other things that had come to him when he was +ill. + +"Yes," said Mr. Davids, smiling one of his grim and rare smiles,--"all +that don't help _our_ difficulty, you see. Well, Phil and I'll have to +put our heads together. But there's one person can send nothing that +will tell half his good feelings of gratefulness to you,--and that's +me." And a very unwonted softening of the stern man's eye and brow +shewed that he spoke a gentle truth. + +Kind words answered him,--words of personal kindness and interest, and +deep pleasure too; but Mr. Davids knew it was a pleasure, an interest, +a kindness, that had each (like Samuel Rutherford's hope) "a face +looking straight out unto that day!" + +Truly, "a city that is set on an hill, cannot be hid!" + +And the farmer felt it, and his manner softened, and his interest grew +more wistful and intent with every minute they stayed. + +Faith was on horseback and Mr. Linden about to follow, when Farmer +Davids arrested him with a low remark and question. + +"She's a fine-faced girl--looks as her father needn't ha' been ashamed +of her. Looks _good_--like he did. Is she going to marry the son of +Judge Harrison, sir?" + +"Dr. Harrison has told me nothing of the kind." + +"I heerd it"--said the farmer. "I didn't know nothing, how it might be. +Good day, sir! I hope you'll come again." And they trotted off at last, +with again the renewed feeling of liberty and pleasure of motion. But +the sun had descended perceptibly nearer to the horizon than he was +when they dismounted. However there was nothing to do but to ride, for +the proposed route was a circuit and they were passed the first half of +the way already. + +"That was good, Mr. Linden," said Faith. + +"Which part of it this time?" + +"I don't mean the pumpkin pie and the cider," she said smiling. + +"Do you feel rested?" + +"Oh yes! Rested and tired too. At least, quite ready to move on again." + +"Yes, so am I. But do you know Göthe left out one very important item +in his daily directions?" + +"What was that?" + +"One should, if possible, every day give some one else a little +pleasure." + +"Yes!" said Faith. "And it's so true, and so easy. How much you gave +there just now, Mr. Linden!" + +"It was rather of their taking than my giving. But Miss Faith, + + --'How necessary is it now-a-days, + That each body live uprightly in all manner ways?'" + + +"Yes, Mr. Linden! What are you thinking of?" + +"Just that--" he said smiling. "A thought of the darkness makes one +want to trim the lights. Did you ever notice, Miss Faith, that many +things which were written in a mere worldly sense, will bear a very +sweet Christian application? Take this for instance:-- + + 'Thus would I double my life's fading space, + For he who runs it well, runs twice his race. + And in this true delight, + These unbought sports, that happy state, + I would not fear nor wish my fate, + But boldly say each night,-- + To-morrow let my sun his beams display, + Or in clouds hide them; I have lived to-day.'" + + +She listened with a bright face at first; then as the quotation was +ended her face flushed, she turned her eyes away, and a grave look of +sorrow crept over her lips. But in a little while she looked again. + +"How many books do you carry about in your head, Mr. Linden?" + +"If I should tell you, Miss Faith, then you would know--and then I +could never delude you any more! Now we must quicken our pace, or we +shall scarce get our poem before tea." + +For awhile the trotting was pretty brisk, then they drew bridle again +and went gently on, but now towards the setting sun, whose bright rays +were caught and held by the white sails that gleamed here and there in +the distance. Now they met lines of cattle, driven by some bare-footed +boy or sun-bonneted girl, and ploughmen trudged along the road behind +their teams. Thicker curls of smoke from wayside chimneys spoke of +supper, and where a house stood in the shadow of some bit of forest, +lights were already gleaming from the windows. + + "How many things by season seasoned are + To their right praise, and true perfection!" + + +Which bit of excellent eulogy might also have been true of Quapaw creek +and the bridge over it, which they reached in seasonable time. Quapaw +creek was here a little bit of a river, and the bridge over it was an +insignificant little bridge--'no count,' in Squire Deacon's language. +But now, of all times in the year, the little bridge was already full +of more than it could hold, literally, for it couldn't hold what was +upon it. A heavy farm-wagon loaded with some sort of produce had got +fairly upon the bridge some hour or two before and then broken through; +men and teams had for the present deserted it, and there was the way +pretty effectually blocked up. What was to be done? They were not more +now than a mile or two from home, but to go back and round by the +nearest way would be several miles. The water was not very broad, nor +generally deep; but the banks and the bed of the stream were uneven and +strewn with rocks and stones, small and great. It was fordable, +certainly; a good rider might cross well enough; but a good rider would +scarce choose to trust an unskilful one there. What was to be done? + +"We shall have to go back, Mr. Linden," said Faith;--"and you mustn't +mind my riding fast now, or mother will be uneasy." + +Mr. Linden took the case into consideration. + +"Will you mind riding before me, Miss Faith?" + +"What, sir?" she said, not understanding. + +"Will you let me take you across?" + +"How can you, Mr. Linden?" she said, looking a little startled, and +flushing. + +"Very easily--on my horse. Stay where you are a minute, and let me try +the ford." And not waiting for an answer to that, he rode down the bank +and into the stream. It was easy enough, for a man who knew what to do +with his horse's mouth; not easy, nor perhaps safe for another. The +footing needed to be chosen by the hand of the rider; so chosen it was +good. Mr. Linden rode to the other side and came back. + +"Will you try, Miss Faith?" + +"Yes," she said, putting her horse in motion,--"I am not afraid. I will +follow you. It will be better than going round." But his horse did not +stir. + +"I shall not follow you, Miss Faith,--and yet if you cross it must be +before me. No other way is safe for you." + +"Well, we can go round, can't we?" said Faith. + +"Yes," he said,--as the sun dropped down behind the low horizon, and +the cool shade fell on everything but the tree tops. "You know it is +about six times as far. Are you afraid of my horse?" + +"No, not when you hold him. I will do just what you please, Mr. +Linden," she said, though her colour mounted. + +"Then do not be afraid of me," he said, dropping his own bridle and +gently disengaging the hand from hers. "Please take your foot out of +the stirrup, Miss Faith--" and the transfer was made in a moment: she +was lifted across the little space between the two horses, and seated +in front of Mr. Linden, and held fast. + +"Are you afraid?" he repeated, looking gravely down at her. + +"No sir.--Not a bit, Mr. Linden," she said, throwing a little more +warmth into her words, for the first had been spoken somewhat under +breath. So leaving the one horse fastened to a tree-branch, the other +set forward with his unwonted burden, which indeed at first he did not +much approve; pricking his ears, and sidling about, with some +doubtfulness of intent. But being after all a sensible horse, and +apprehending the voice and rein suggestions which were made to him, he +began to pick his way slowly and carefully among the stones on the +bank, and then through the stones in the river; setting down his feet +with great judgment and precaution, and paying no heed to the rushing +and splashing of the little stream, except by his ears--which certainly +worked, for once. And so the dangerous "pass" was soon behind them, and +Mr. Linden dismounted and lifted Faith down, and seated her on a grey +stone on the bank, while he went back for her horse. Which crossing, it +may be observed, was accomplished much quicker than the last. The +twilight was falling fast, and the little river, and the two horses as +they forded its swift current, looked shadowy enough; set off by the +white foam on both. The evening wind began its fitful stir, and swept +the dry leaves past Faith's feet, and shook the cedar boughs above her +head; and so she sat there, and watched the crossing. + +"I have had the best picture to-day, Mr. Linden," she said, when she +was placed in the saddle again. "You ought to have seen the river, and +you and the two horses coming over it, in this light, as I did. You +don't know how pretty it was. Now you'll let me ride fast, won't +you?--for mother will be looking for us." + +"As fast as you please--but after all, you have not seen _my_ picture," +he said smiling. + +Faith profited by the permission given and put her horse to a pace that +proved she was very much in earnest to prevent that "looking for them" +on Mrs. Derrick's part. She got out of the trot into a canter--or her +horse did--and then away they flew; too fast to see or be hindered by +any more friends or foes; till they drew bridle at home. + +It was too late to have the reading before tea. So to have tea as +speedily as possible was the next object. And then they adjourned to +the fire-lit sitting-room, where Faith lighted the lamp in uncertainty +whether reading or studies was to be the next move. Mr. Linden, +however, went for his book--a little old volume, of which Faith had +never taken notice; and began, without doubt, the prettiest description +of a garden that ever was written;-- + + "How vainly men themselves amaze, + To win the palm, the oak, or bays:"--etc. + + +The reader paused a moment, to tell more particularly what these leafy +honours were, and then went on. + + "Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, + And Innocence, thy sister dear? + Mistaken long, I sought you then + In busy companies of men. + Your sacred plants, if here below, + Only among the plants will grow. + Society is all but rude + To this delicious solitude." + + +At which words precisely, the spirit of contrariety opened the door and +ushered in Dr. Harrison. All _he_ saw, was Mr. Linden with a book, in +one easy-chair; Mrs. Derrick with her knitting in another; and a little +further off, Faith, sitting on her low cushion and apparently doing +nothing. Probably for that reason the doctor made up to her first. He +sat down beside her, and enquired in a low tone how the fishes were? +Faith answered that they were well; only one of them had been eaten up +by the others. + +"You are a little tired and are feeling remarkably well to-night," the +doctor went on. "What have you been doing?" + +"I have been trying to do my duty," Faith said colouring and laughing. + +"Don't you always do that?" said Dr. Harrison looking at her +enquiringly. + +"But I didn't know what it was till to-day." + +"You are doing what is very uncommon with you," said the +doctor--"fighting me with my own weapons." His smile was pleasant +though acute; but Faith coloured exceedingly. + +"I can't tell you exactly what duty I mean," she said, "but Mr. Linden +can." + +"Do you take your notions of duty from him?" + +"To-day,"--said Faith with a smile, sweet and with spirit enough too. + +"I maintain that duties are facts, not notions," said Mr. Linden. + +"Hum--" said the doctor turning,--"Now you are too quick for me. May +one not have a _notion_ of a fact?" + +"One may. What are your notions about society and solitude?" + +"Of duty in those regards?" + +"Not at all,--your notions of those facts." + +"Confused--" said the doctor,--"Incomprehensible--Melancholy--and +Distracting!" + +He had got up and assumed the position he seemed to like, a +standing-place on the rug, from whence he could look down on everybody. + +"What do you say to this?-- + + 'Two paradises were in one, + To live in Paradise alone.'-- + +I suppose that meets your 'notions.'" + +"No," said the doctor,--"not unless Eve were the paradise. And even +then, I shouldn't want her any more to myself than to let all the world +come and see that she was mine." + +"It is a grave question," said Mr. Linden, "whether paradise becomes +smaller by being divided. In other words, whether after sharing it with +Eve, Adam still retained the whole of it for himself!" + +"Just the other way!" said the doctor,--"it was doubled--or trebled. +For in the first place he had Eve; she was a second paradise;--then all +her enjoyment of paradise was his enjoyment; that was a third;--and in +short I should think the multiplication might go on ad infinitum--like +compound interest or any other series of happiness impossible to +calculate." + +"Simple interest isn't a bad thing," said Mr. Linden. + +"Yes," said the doctor with an answering flash of his eye, "but it +never contented anybody yet that could get it compound--that ever I +heard of. Does Miss Derrick understand arithmetic?" + +"Miss Derrick," said Mr. Linden, "how many angels can stand on the +point of a (darning) needle without jostling each other?" + +"Don't be deluded into thinking _that_ is arithmetic," said the doctor. +"Some of them would get their feet hurt. What duty has Mr. Linden been +persuading you to do to-day?" + +"Mr. Linden can tell," said Faith. + +Which appeal Mr. Linden answered by deliberately finishing his poem +aloud, for the benefit of the company. + + "'What wondrous life is this I lead! + Ripe apples drop about my head; + The luscious clusters of the vine + Upon my mouth do crush their wine. + The nectarine, the curious peach, + Into my hands themselves do reach. + Stumbling on melons, as I pass, + Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.' + + 'Here, at the fountain's sliding foot, + Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, + Casting the body's vest aside, + My soul into the boughs does glide: + There, like a bird, it sits and sings, + Then whets and claps its silver wings; + And, till prepared for longer flight, + Waves in its plumes the various light.'" etc. + + +The doctor listened, faithfully and enjoyingly; but his finishing +comment was, + +"What a pity it is November!" + +"No," said Faith--"I think I enjoyed it better than I should in July." + +"Rousseau's doctrine," said the doctor. "Or do you mean that you like +the description better than the reality?" + +"It was the reality I enjoyed," said Faith. + +"What have you got there, Linden?" + +"Various old poets, bound up together." + +"What was that you read?" + +"Andrew Marvell's 'Garden.'" + +"It's a famous good thing!--though I confess my soul never 'glided into +the boughs' of any tree when my body didn't go along. Apropos--Do you +like to be on the back of a good horse?" + +"Why yes," said Mr. Linden, "when circumstances place me there." + +"Will you let me be a circumstance to do it? I have an animal of that +description--with almost the facility of motion possessed by Andrew +Marvell's soul. Will you try him?" + +"Can he run?" said Mr. Linden with comic demureness. + +"Fleetly. Whether _away with you_ depends, you know, on what I have no +knowledge of; but I should think not." + +"I should like to know beforehand--" said Mr. Linden in the same tone. +"However--Is it to be on simple or compound interest, doctor?" + +"I never take simple interest," said Dr. Harrison. "I want all I can +get." + +"Well if I take your horse, what will you ride alongside of me?" + +"That is easily arranged," said the doctor smiling. "This fellow is a +new-comer, comparatively, and a pet of mine. I want to know what you +think of him. When is your next time of leisure?" + +"My daylight leisure is pretty limited now. Part of Saturday I could +take." + +"Then you'll hold yourself engaged to me for Saturday morning,--and +I'll hold myself engaged to give you some thing pleasant to do with it. +The roads hereabout are good for nothing _but_ riding--you can have the +pleasure of motion, there isn't much to take your thoughts away from +it." + +"Except emotion?" + +"If you're another Marvell of a man, and can send your soul into the +boughs as you pass;--as good as stumbling on melons," said the doctor. +"Unless your horse stumbles!" + +"I see his character is coming out by degrees," said Mr. Linden smiling. + +"He's as sure-footed--as you are! Here comes emotion--in the shape of +my aunt Ellen. Isn't Mr. Linden a careful man?" he asked whimsically in +a low voice, returning to his place by Faith. The question touched +Faith's feeling of the ludicrous, and she only laughed at the doctor. +Which he liked very well. + +Mrs. Somers' errand was to invite the younger portion of the company to +spend Christmas evening with her. And having succeeded in her mission, +she made the doctor take her home. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + + +The week thereafter passed with the usual quiet business of those days. +Friday evening, however, when the lamp was lit, instead of opening her +books at once, Faith took the doctor's station on the rug. + +"Dr. Harrison has been here this afternoon, Mr. Linden; and asked me to +go with you and him in the ride to-morrow." + +"Well, Miss Faith?" + +"I was afraid at first that it might hinder the good of your ride, if I +went; but Dr. Harrison said no; and he put it so that at last I said I +would. But I am afraid of it still." + +"How did he put it?" + +"I don't know," said Faith half laughing;--"in a way that left me no +excuse; as if he thought it would be more pleasure both to you and to +him, to have me along." + +"Miss Faith, if you go, you must give me leave to keep very near you. I +trust my own care better than Dr. Harrison's. You will understand why I +do it?" Faith did not understand very well. + +"I supposed of course, Mr. Linden, you would be very near! I knew +mother would not let me go to ride with Dr. Harrison, but with you I +thought she would not be afraid." + +He looked at her a little doubtfully--as if he wanted to say something; +but whatever it might be, it was not what he did say,--a quiet + +"I will try and take care of you. Miss Faith." Which words were +afterwards enlarged upon. + +"Miss Faith, may I trust that you will not fall behind my 'fleet' horse +to-morrow?" + +"Do you mean, if he goes very fast?" said Faith, with questioning eyes. + +"His speed shall not put you to any inconvenience. Indeed it may chance +that he will be obliged to go slower than you like,--in which case, +Miss Faith, I hope your liking will change." + +The doctor came the next day in a gay mood. + +"I told you," said he, "I shouldn't be content with simple interest--I +wanted compound. I hope you approve of my addition to our plan?" + +"So far so good," Mr. Linden said smiling. + +They went out, and Mr. Linden's first move was towards the horse with +the side saddle; not with the intention of mounting him, however: but a +more particular, thorough, systematic examination of every buckle and +strap of his harness, that particular horse had never had. Then Mr. +Linden turned and held out his hand to Faith. + +She gave him hers with a facile readiness that quite precluded +interposition, and testified either that she had expected it or had +_not_ expected it; most probably the latter. Dr. Harrison bit his lips, +but that was a second's emotion; his next step was to dismiss the groom +who stood at the horse's head and take that office on himself. + +"You are more careful than is absolutely necessary in this case," said +he smiling. "This horse, Miss Faith, is the mate, I presume, of the one +Job used to take his exercise upon. I chose him for you, thinking of +Mrs. Derrick.--Give 'Stranger' to Mr. Linden!"--The last words being a +direction to the groom. + +A very different creature was Stranger! If it had been the purpose of +Dr. Harrison to give his friend so much to do with his own particular +affairs that he would have no leisure to bestow on those of other +people, he had chosen the horse at least well. A very fine and +beautiful animal, he deserved all the praise given him for facility of +motion; no feet could disdain the ground more daintily; no carriage be +more absolutely springy and soft. But the mischief and spirit of both +the runaways combined would not match his case. He did not indeed +appear to be vicious, any further than a most vehement desire to please +himself and that in all manner of eccentric ways, totally irrelevant to +the purpose of getting ahead on the road or serving the will of his +rider, might be called vice. It rather seemed the spirit of power in +full play. However it were, there was no lack of either 'motion' or +'emotion' during the first half mile of the way; for Stranger's manner +of getting over so much of the ground was continually either calling +Faith's blood into her cheeks, or driving it out from them. + +They were well matched, however, the horse and the rider,--and the +spirit of power in equal exercise. Neither did Mr. Linden seem averse +to the play--though Stranger presently found that what play _he_ +indulged in, was clearly matter of concession; his name, as regarded +his rider, soon lost its point. On the whole, the performance came as +near the 'Centaurship' declared impossible by Dr. Harrison, as most +things have in modern times; but so far as the doctor had any stake +depending upon Stranger's antics, so far he lost. Mr. Linden had never +seemed more absolutely at leisure to attend to other people's affairs, +and had rarely, it may be said, attended to them more thoroughly, than +during that 'springy' half mile. An occasional Pas seul round the +minuet of his companions, rather heightened the effect. On another +score, too, perhaps the doctor lost; for whatever efforts he made, or +_she_ made, it was simply impossible for Faith to attend to anything +else whatever with any show of consecutiveness, but the said horse and +his rider. An attention sufficiently accounted for in the first place +by the startled changes of colour in her face; latterly the colour rose +and became steady, and a little varying play of smile on lip and eye +during the third quarter of a mile attested the fact that other +"emotions" had displaced that of fear. Clearly the doctor had lost upon +Stranger. + +"How do you like him?" he said at last speaking across Faith who was +not "good" for conversation. + +"Very much." + +"I see you do--and he likes you, which is, to be sure, a correlative +position. As I see he don't fill your hands, may I impose upon you the +care of my sister? We are an uneven number you are aware, and as I +thought it desirable not to look _odd_, I gave her permission to go +with us." + +Dr. Harrison did not see--if Faith did--the tiniest bit of a glance +that sought her face while he was speaking; but nothing could be easier +than the terms in which Mr. Linden declared himself ready to take +charge of any number of ladies,--it was only equalled by Stranger's +bound the next minute. + +How dismayed one of the party was at this addition of Miss Harrison's +company, nobody guessed. They turned in at Judge Harrison's gate, and +found Miss Sophy all ready for them. But to Faith, the play was +suddenly taken out of "the play." She and Dr. Harrison set forward to +be sure, over a pleasant road, in delicious weather; the doctor was in +one of his balmiest moods; and though quietly, she was very well +mounted. It was pleasant, or would have been pleasant; but all the +while, what was Stranger doing behind her that she could not see! Then +in answering some kindly, graceful remark of the doctor's, Faith chid +herself for ungratefulness, and roused herself to give and take what +good was in her power. + +The ride was pleasant after that! The air in all its calm sweetness was +well tasted; the barren landscape, never barren to Faith's eyes, was +enjoyed at every step. Her horse went agreeably, and the talk between +her and Dr. Harrison grew interesting and enlivening. + +Meanwhile Mr. Linden's horse and his companion were at the +antipodes--of each other. Thoroughly good and estimable as Miss +Harrison was, she never left the beaten track,--and Stranger never kept +in it. Between these two opposites Mr. Linden amused himself as best he +might. To do him justice he tried his best to amuse his companion. + +Several miles of way had been passed over, when in a broad grassy reach +of the road, the two riders ahead fell back upon the rest of the party; +Faith taking Miss Harrison's side, while the doctor drew up by Mr. +Linden. + +"How does it go?" he said good humouredly. + +"What is the impersonal in this case?" said Mr. Linden, while Stranger +snorted and bounded, and by every means in his power requested the +doctor to keep at a distance. + +"A conglomerate, for which I found no better term. You, Stranger, and +my sister, and the world generally." + +"Stranger is in a sufficiently ardent mood, for his share--he gives me +a fine view of the country," said Mr. Linden, as the creature brought +himself to a tolerably erect position, and seemed to like it so well as +to be in no hurry to come down; and when he did, took the precaution to +take his hind feet off the ground before the fore feet touched. "Miss +Faith--how does this agree with your ideal of Melancholy?" + +Faith forgot to answer, or thought answers impertinent. + +"That horse frightens me out of my wits," said Miss Harrison. "I have +been jumping out of the saddle half the time, since I came out. +Sometimes he'll go very quietly--as nice as anybody--and then he'll +play such a caper as he did then. That was just because Julius came up +alongside of him. He had been going beautifully this last mile. I wish +he'd have nothing to do with such a creature!" + +"I suppose he's very pleasant to ride," said Faith eying the creature. + +Perhaps Stranger--with his full, wild eyes, took note of this look of +partial favour, for he backed a little from the doctor, and came +dancing round by Faith, and there danced along at her side for a few +minutes; evidently in an excited state of mind. His rider meanwhile, +gave Faith a quiet word of admonition about keeping so loose a rein, +and asked, in the same half undertone, if she felt tired? + +"O no!" Faith said with a look of thanks and pleasure. + +"That piece of care I must trust in your hands--don't forget that I +_do_ so trust it. How would you like to cross Quapaw creek on this +piece of quicksilver?" + +"I don't think you'd like to have me!" Faith said very decidedly. "I +never saw anything so beautiful, quite, Mr. Linden--that I recollect at +this minute," she added smiling. + +"I want to dance with you to-day--more than I ever did before," he +answered, smiling too. "Miss Faith, if you have not yet said the 'few +sensible words,' or if you have any left, won't you please say them to +me?" + +"That question comes like a constable upon all my sense," said Faith +laughing, "and it feels as I suppose a man does when he is clapped on +the shoulder." + +"But then the man cannot run away, you know." + +"Nor my sense don't," said Faith,--"that I know of,--but it feels as if +it hadn't possession of itself, Mr. Linden." + +"Well see if it is equal to this demand--What would be the consequences +if you and I were to start off and scour the country 'on our own hook,' +as people say?" + +"I think 'our hook' would draw two people after us," said Faith, +looking very much amused and a little afraid of being overheard. + +"That is a melancholy fact! And my self-indulgence needs to be kept in +check. Miss Faith," he said dropping his voice still more, "Stranger +regrets very much that he must now go through that figure of the +cotillion called 'Ladies change'!" And with a low and laughing bow, Mr. +Linden reined back his horse and returned to his former place with all +the soberness that circumstances allowed. + +There was no soberness whatever in the face with which Faith +recommenced her tête-à-tête with Miss Harrison. The doctor was +perfectly in order. + +"I have been thinking," he said, "since my question of how the world +went with you, what a very insignificant thing, as to extent, '_the +world_' of any one person is." + +"Compared with the universe," said Mr. Linden. + +"What sort of a world have you got into?" said Dr. Harrison somewhat +impatiently. "No--the actual extent of your and my consciousness--of +that field of action and perception which we magnificently call our +world! What a mighty limited field it is!" + +"I think you describe it correctly," said Mr. Linden: "it is both +mighty and limited. A little space railed off for every man--and yet +larger than that man can ever fill." + +"It seems to me too insignificant to be worth filling." + +"There is a little outlet on every side that makes it impossible to +fill!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean, that while our action at every step touches other people, and +their consequent action moves on with like effect, the limits of our +power in this world can never be known." + +"Will you think me impertinent if I ask once more what you mean?--or +rather, ask you to enlarge a little?" + +"If a man plants the first clover seed or thistle-down in some great +continent," said Mr. Linden, "from whose little field is it, that in a +hundred years the whole land bears thistles or clover?" + +"It won't," said the doctor, "if a hundred other things are sown at the +same time. And so it seems to me in life--that one action is +counteracted by another, universally,--and nothing makes anything!--of +any avail." + +"If _nothing_ is of any avail, things don't counteract each other. You +are proving my position." + +The doctor smiled, not unpleasantly. + +"I see," he said, "you can maintain any position you choose to +take,--on the ground or in the air! I must give way to you on _this_ +ground." And Dr. Harrison reined back his horse and came into Faith's +neighbourhood. + +"Miss Derrick, the road is getting too contracted for such a +procession--will you draw bridle?" + +"I don't want to ride behind, Dr. Harrison," said Faith looking +laughingly back at him. "I'll go on in front." Which she did, so +briskly that the doctor had to bestir himself to come up with her. + +"I didn't know," he said, and he spoke somewhat in earnest,--"I didn't +know that you cared anything about eminence or preëminence." + +"Didn't you, Dr. Harrison?" + +"_Do_ you?" + +"I don't know--" said Faith gravely. "Eminence?--yes, I should care +very much for that, in some things. Not for preëminence, I think. +There's Mr. Simlins!--and I must speak to him." Faith's horse which had +been on an easy canter, came to a stand; and so must the doctor. Mr. +Simlins too was on horseback. + +"Mr. Simlins," said Faith after giving him her hand, "will you have +half a day's leisure Monday or Tuesday?" + +"Leisure?" said the farmer with his best growl--"no, I sha'n't have it +if you take it." + +"Do you think I may take it?" + +"I don't suppose there's anybody that can hinder you," said Mr. +Simlins--"without excepting my own identity. _I_ can't. Do you want to +go up yonder again?" + +The doctor interposed to make offers of his father's horses, carriage, +and servants; but Faith quietly negatived them all. + +"How did you get home the other night?" said the farmer. "Did you get +over the river?" Then shifting his ground as Miss Harrison and Stranger +came up into the group, he changed his question. + +"I say Mr. Linden!--I heerd Quapaw creek was choked up the other +night--how did you get home?" + +"The same way I expect to now," said Mr. Linden. "How did _you_, Mr. +Simlins." + +"The harness was all right," said Mr. Simlins--"if anything else was in +a disorganized state, 'twas somebody's fault besides yourn. That +lynch-pin made trouble though; it didn't fit more places than one. Did +you get across Quapaw creek on your horses?" + +"Do you suppose I crossed on foot?" said Mr. Linden smiling. "Do you +take me for a witch, Mr. Simlins?" + +"I haven't just made up my mind about that," said the farmer. "I've a +temptation to think you air. What's that you're on?" + +"Only a broomstick in disguise, Mr. Simlins. As he belongs to Dr. +Harrison, I am willing to own so much." + +"He's as well-shaped a broomstick as ever I see," said the farmer +consideratively. "I shouldn't mind puttin' him in harness. Well +good-day! I'm glad this girl didn't have to go all round again the +other night--I was afeard she had. I'll take you over creation," he +sung out after her as they parted company,--"and I'll be along Monday." + +"Quapaw creek?" said Dr. Harrison, as the interrupted procession took +up its line of march again,--"I think I remember that. What was the +matter?" + +"The bridge was broken, with a loaded wagon upon it," Faith explained. + +"And you crossed by fording?" + +"Yes." + +"Isn't it rather a difficult ford? If I remember right, the bed of the +stream is uneven and rough; doesn't it require some guiding of the +horses?" + +"I believe so--yes. It isn't safe for an ignorant rider." + +"I didn't give you credit," said he looking at her, "for being such a +horsewoman. That is quite a feat for a lady." + +Faith coloured high. But she was not going a second time to fight the +doctor "with his own weapons." A very little she hesitated, then she +said boldly, though not in very bold tones it must be confessed,-- + +"I am not a horsewoman--Mr. Linden carried me over." + +The doctor looked very moody for a few minutes; then his brow +brightened. Faith's straightforward truth had served her as well as the +most exquisite piece of involution. The doctor could not very well see +the face with which her words were spoken and had to make up his mind +upon them alone. + +"It is so!" was his settled conclusion. "She has only a child's +friendly liking for him--nothing more--or she never, simple as she is, +would have said that to me with that frankness!" + +Moodiness returned to the doctor's brow no more. He left Quapaw creek +in the distance and talked of all manner of pleasant things. And so, +with no second break of the order of march, they went on and went home. + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith when she was lighting the lamp for study in +the evening,--"you'll never ask anything of me so hard to do as that +was to-day." + +"Hard?" he replied. "Why?" + +"To keep in front, where I could not see you and that horse." + +"Miss Faith! I am very sorry!--But you know I had you in charge--I felt +bound to keep you in sight." + +"I know,"--she said; and sat down to her work. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + + +There was no more riding after that--the weather grew too cold, and +Mattabeeset was put off till spring; but with walks and talks and +reading aloud, Göthe's maxim was well carried out. For there is music +that needs no composer but Peace, and fireside groups that are not bad +pictures in stormy weather. And so December began to check off its +short days with busy fingers. + +There came a sudden interruption to all this, except December's part of +it. For a letter arrived from Miss Delia Danforth, at Pequot, begging +that Faith would come and spend a little time with her. Miss Delia was +very unwell, and suffering and alone, with the exception of her +brother's French wife; and she wrote with longing desire to see Faith. +Mr. Danforth had been some years dead, and the widow and the sister who +had lived so long together with him, since his death had kept their old +household life, in a very quiet way, without him. But now Miss Danforth +longed for some of her own kindred, or had a special liking or desire +for Faith's company, for she prayed her to come. And it was not a call +that Faith herself a moment doubted about answering. Mrs. Derrick's +willingness lingered, for various natural reasons; but that too +followed. It was clear that Faith ought not to refuse. + +The day before she was to go, Mrs. Derrick made her self unusually busy +and tired, so as to spare Faith's study-time; and thus it fell out, +that when night came and prayers were over, Mrs. Derrick went straight +to bed; partly from fatigue, partly to be ready for an early start next +day; for she was to drive Faith over to Pequot. No such need or +inducements sent Faith to bed; and the two students planned a longer +evening of work than common, to anticipate lost time. But when the +hours were about half spent, Cindy came to the door and called out, +"Miss Faith!"--Faith left her book and went to the door, which she held +open. + +"There was a boy come to-night," said Cindy, "from that old starvation +creatur' down by Barley point, and he says she's more in a box than +ever. Haint a crumb of bread for breakfast--nor supper neither, for +that." + +"Is the boy here now?" + +"Why sakes no!" said Cindy. "He come while you was to supper. I s'pose +I might ha' telled ye before, but then again I was busy bakin' +cakes--and I'm free to confess I forgot. And prayers always does turn +everything out of ray head. I can't guess how I thought of it now. Mr. +Skip's away to-night, too," said Cindy in conclusion. Faith shut the +door behind her. + +"It's too far for you to go alone. Can you find somebody to go with +you, Cindy? I'll put up a basket of things for her." + +"Aint a soul in sight--" said Cindy. "I'd as lieves go the hull way +alone as to snoop round, hunting folks." + +"Then Cindy, if you'll get ready I'll go with you. She must have +something." + +Cindy looked at her. "Guess you better get fixed first, Miss Faith. +'Taint hardly worth my while, I reckon. Who shouldn't we have after us!" + +"Just have your shawl and bonnet ready, Cindy, will you?" said Faith +gravely,--"and I'll be ready in a very few minutes." + +She went with business speed to pantry and cellar, and soon had a +sizeable basket properly filled. Leaving that in Cindy's charge, Faith +went back to the sitting-room, and came and stood by the table, and +said quietly, "I can't do any more to-night, Mr. Linden. I must be busy +in another way. I am going out for a little while." + +"May I ask--not from curiosity--with whom?" he said looking up at her. + +"With Cindy--to attend to some business she didn't tell me of in proper +time." Faith had laid her books together and was going off. Mr. Linden +rose from the table. + +"With me, if you please, Miss Faith. I will not intrude upon your +business." + +"It's no business to be intruded upon!" she said with her simple look +into his face. "But Cindy and I can do it. Please do not let me take +you away! I am not afraid--much." + +"Miss Faith, you want a great many lessons yet!--and I do not deserve +this. Don't you know that in Mrs. Derrick's absence I am guardian of +her house--and of you? I will go with you, or without you--just as you +choose," he added smiling. "If you would rather study than walk, you +shall. Is the business too intricate for me to manage?" + +"It's only to carry some things to an old woman who is in great want of +them. They can't wait till to-morrow. If you will go, Mr. Linden,--I'll +be ready in a minute. I'd like to go." + +She ran to get ready, and Mr. Linden went to the kitchen and took the +basket from Cindy, and then waited at the front door till Faith came, +and they went out into the moonlight together. A very bright moonlight, +and dark shadows--dark and still; only one of them seemed to move; but +that one made Faith glad of her change of companions. Perhaps it made +the same suggestion to Mr. Linden, for his first words looked that way. + +"Miss Faith, you did not do quite right, to-night. Don't you know--" +with a gentle half smiling tone--"you must not let _anything_ make you +do wrong?" + +Her look and tone were both very confiding, and touched with timidity. + +"Did I, Mr. Linden? I didn't mean it." + +"I know that--but you must remember for another time." And he went off +to other subjects, giving her talk and information that were perhaps +better than books. The walk was good, too; the air bracing, and the +village sights and sounds in a subsiding glimmer and murmur. The +evening out of doors was worth as much as the evening within doors +could have been. Faith thought so. The way was down the road that led +to Barley point, branching off from that. The distance to the poor +cottage seemed short enough, but if it had seemed long Faith would have +felt herself well paid--so much was the supply needed, so joyfully was +it received. The basket was left there for Mr. Skip to bring home +another time, and at a rather late hour in the evening the return walk +began. + + +The night was sharp and frosty, and still, now, with a depth of +silence. The moon, high and full, beamed down in silver splendour, and +the face of the earth was all white or black. The cold, clear light, +the sharp shadows angling and defining everything, the absolute +stillness--how well they chimed!--and chime they did, albeit +noiselessly. In that bracing air the very steps of the two homeward +bound people seemed to spring more light and elastic, and gave little +sound. They went on together with a quick even step,--the very walking +was pleasant. For a while they talked busily too,--then Thought came in +and claimed her place, and words ceased. + +They had left the turn to the belt of woods, and were now passing one +or two empty fields where low hedges made a black line of demarcation, +and the moonlight seemed even whiter than before. Faith was on the side +next the road, and both a little way out, for the walking was smoother +and dryer. + +How it was done Faith could not tell--the next two seconds seemed full +of separate things which she remembered afterwards--but her hand was +disengaged from Mr. Linden's arm, and he was standing before her and +she behind him, almost before she had fairly seen a little flash of red +light from the hedge before them. A sharp report--a powdery taint on +the sweet air, came then to give their evidence--to what? + +That second past, Mr. Linden turned, but still standing so as to shield +her, and laid both hands on her shoulders. + +"Are you hurt?" he said, in a voice lowered by feeling, not intent. + +One bewildered instant she stood mute--perhaps with no breath for +words; the next minute, with a motion too unexpected and sudden to be +hindered, lifting both hands she threw his off, bounded to one side to +be clear of him, and sprang like a gazelle towards the spot where the +red flash had caught her eye. But she was caught and stopped before she +reached it, and held still--that same shield between her and the hedge. + +"Did it touch you?" Mr. Linden repeated. + +"No--Let me! let me!"--she said eagerly endeavouring to free herself. + +He was silent a moment--a deep drawn breath the only reply; but he did +not loose his hold. + +"My dear child," he said, "you could find nothing--for what would you +go?"--the tone was very gentle, even moved. "You must walk on before me +as quick as you can. Will you promise to do it? I will keep you in +sight." + +"Before you?--no. What are you going to do? Are you touched?"--Her +voice changed as she went on. + +"I am not hurt--and mean to do nothing to-night but follow you home. +But give me your promise, Miss Faith,--you must not stand here." + +"Why in front? will they be behind us?" + +"I must have you in sight--and I will not have you near me." And +letting go his hold he said, almost imperatively, + +"I will trust you. Walk on before me!--Miss Faith, you must not delay a +moment." + +"I will go with you," she said low, and clinging to his arm.--"Your +safety is in being near me. I will not delay. Come!"-- + +But the hand was taken off again, and held in both his while he spoke. + +"I will not have you anywhere near me! If you do not walk on far in +front, I shall,--and keep watch of you as best I can." And he let go +her hand, and stepped back with a quick pace that soon put some +distance between them. She stood still a moment, looking, and then +sprang back till she reached him; speaking with a low vehemence that +did not seem like Faith. + +"I will not do it, Mr. Linden--I will not! I will not!--Come, come! +don't stay here!"-- + +Whatever Mr. Linden felt at that appeal--and he was not a man to feel +it lightly--his words lost none of their firmness. + +"I shall not stir until you are ten yards in front of me!--unless I +leave you as far behind." + +She planted herself for an instant before him and looked in his face, +with eyes of quiet but most eloquent beseeching. + +"No"--he repeated,--"you must go on and fear nothing. Child--'there is +no restraint to the Lord, to save by many or by few.'" + +She did not answer, even by the little shake of the head which +sometimes with her stood in place of words. She turned, went swiftly +forward, with a straight, even, unslackening pace, which did not falter +nor stop for a long, long piece of the way; _how_ long it was by the +mind's measurement it would be hard to tell. It was one breathless +sense of pain and fear; of which moonlight and shadows and the points +of the way all made part and were woven in together. Her ears were +tingling for that sound; her eyes only measured unconsciously the +distances and told off the waymarks. Down the little pitch of the road +where that to Barley point forked off; then by a space of clear fences +where hedgerows were not, and a barn or two rose up in the moonlight; +through gates where the post shadows were black and deep, by the +skirting bushes that now and then gathered about the rails. She walked +as fast as she could and keep her strength. That was unconsciously +measured too. It had seemed to her, in her agony of pleading before the +commencing of this strange walk, that it was _impossible_ she should do +it. She was doing it now, under a force of will that she had not been +able to withstand; and her mind was subdued and strained beyond the +power of thinking. Her very walking seemed to her mechanical; intensely +alive as her senses were all the time. There was a transient relief at +coming into the neighbourhood of a house, and a drear feeling of +desolation and increased danger as she left it behind her; but her pace +neither faltered nor flagged. She looked round sometimes, but never +paused for that. Before the more thickly settled part of the village +was reached her step grew a little slower, probably from the sheer +necessity of failing strength; but steady it was, at whatever rate of +travel. When at last they turned the sandy corner into the broad street +or main way of the village, where houses and gardens often broke the +range of hedgeway or fence, and lights spoke to lights in the +neighbouring windows, Faith stopped and stood leaning against the +fence. In another moment she was drawn away from that to a better +support. + +"Are you faint?" Mr. Linden said. + +Her "no" was faint, but the answer was true for all the rest of her. + +He drew her hand within his arm, and went on silently; but how glad he +was to see her home, Faith might guess from the way she was half +carried up the steps and into the hall, and the door shut and locked +behind her. After the same fashion she was taken into the sitting-room +and placed in the easy chair, and her wrappers unfastened and taken off +with very gentle and quick hands. She offered almost as little help as +hindrance, and her head sank immediately. + +He stood by her, and repeated his question about faintness. + +"O no, sir--I'm not faint. It's nothing," Faith said, but as if her +very voice was exhausted. And crossing her arms upon the table, close +to which the easy chair stood, she laid her head down upon them. Her +mother might well say she had a baby face. It looked so them. + +Mr. Linden's next move was to get a glass of wine, and with gentle +force and persuasion to make her swallow it; that done, he stood +leaning upon the back of her chair, silently, but with a very, very +grave face. + +She kept her position, scarcely stirring, for some length of time, +except that after a while she hid her face in her hands. And sitting +so, at last she spoke, in a troubled tone. + +"What can be done, Mr. Linden?--to put a stop to this." + +"I will try what can be done," he answered, though not as if that point +were uppermost in his mind. "I think I can find a way. I wish nothing +gave me more uneasiness than that!" + +"Do you think there is any way that you can do it, thoroughly?" + +"Yes, I think so," he repeated. "There are ways of doing most things. I +shall try. Do not you think about it, Miss Faith,--I have something now +to make me glad you are going to Pequot. Before, I could only remember +how much I should miss my scholar." + +"Why are you glad now, Mr. Linden?" Faith's voice was in as subdued a +state of mind as her face. + +"Change of air will be good for you--till this air is in a better +state." + +She made no answer. In a few minutes she rose up, gathered her wrappers +into one hand, and turning to Mr. Linden held out the other to him; +with a very child's look, which however was rather doubtful about +meeting his. His look had lost none of its grave concern. + +"Are you better?" he said. "Will you promise to go right to sleep, and +leave all troublesome matters where alone they can be taken care of?" + +The faintest kind of a smile flitted across her face. "I don't +know"--she said doubtfully,--"I don't know what I can do, Mr. Linden." + +"I have told you." + +"I'll try--the last part," she said with a somewhat more defined smile +as she glanced up at him. It was as grave and gentle a smile as is +often known. + +"You must try it all," he said, giving her hand the same touch it had +had once before. "Miss Faith, I may use your words--I think you will +never give me harder work to do than I have had to-night!" + +She could not bear that. She stood with eyes cast down, and a +fluttering quiver upon her lip; still, because the effort to control +herself was at the moment as much as she could do. It was successful, +though barely; and then, without venturing another look, she said her +low "Good night, sir"; and moved away. She was accompanied as far as +the door, but then Mr. Linden paused, with his hand on the latch. + +"Shall you take any work--I mean _book_ work--with you to Pequot?--or +will your hands find too much else to do?" + +"I meant to take some I meant to do a good deal--I hope so." + +"Then can you come back to the great chair for ten minutes, and let me +give you a word or two of direction?" + +She came immediately and sat down. And Mr. Linden went back to where +they had been interrupted early in the evening, and told her what and +where and how to go on in the various books, till she should see him +again; putting marks here and there to save her trouble, or pencilling +some explanation which might be needed. It took but a few minutes to do +this; and then Mr. Linden laid the books together, and drawing the old +Bible towards him once more, he turned to the ninety-first Psalm and +read it aloud. Read it with full heart-felt effect; which made the +words fall like the dew they are, upon the weary little flower Faith +was. Then he bade her once more goodnight. + +She went refreshed; yet to become a prey to struggling thoughts which +for a while prevented refreshment from having its lawful action. How +much of the night and of the early morning Faith spent in these +thoughts, and in the fruit of them, is uncertain; for the evening's +work would sufficiently have accounted for her worn look the next day. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + + +"Must I go to Pequot?" was the first thought that entered Faith's mind +the next morning. And the advancing daylight, with its clear steadfast +way of looking at things, said, "Yes, you must." "Is there anything +_I_--who know most about this business--can do to put an end to it?" +That was a second thrilling question. The same daylight gave its frank +answer,--"No, you cannot--you cannot." Faith took both answers, and +then sought, in the very spirit of a child, to "leave all troublesome +things where alone they could be taken care of." + +"There is a faculty in this," saith Leighton, "that all persons have +not." But the spirit of a child can do it; and the spirit of a +Christian, so far as it is right, is none other. Faith went down +stairs, in spite of inward sorrow and trembling, with a quiet brow. It +was very much the face of last night, for its subdued look, and in +spite of the night's rest, in its paleness too; though the colour +played there somewhat fitfully. Sorrowful note of that Mr. Linden took, +or the pained look of last night had not passed off from his face,--or +both might be true. So far as the most gentle, quick-sighted, and +careful attention could be of avail, the breakfast was +pleasant;--otherwise it was but a grave affair. Even Mrs. Derrick +looked from one to the other, with thoughtfulness that was not merely +of Faith's going away. + +There was little time however for observations. Directly after +breakfast the wagon was got ready; and when they were bestowed in it +and Mr. Linden's farewell had bade Faith remember all his injunctions +the night before, he turned and walked on to his own place of work and +the mother and daughter set forth on their journey. + +In a small insignificant house, in a by street of Pequot, was the +little, very odd household of the two, Miss and Madame Danforth. They +kept no servant; they lived quite to themselves; the various work of +the household they shared between them and made it as good as play; and +no worse than play seemed all the rest of their quiet lives. But Miss +Dilly was ill now and unable to do her part; and what was worse, and +more, she had lost her wonted cheerful and gay way of looking at +things. That the little Frenchwoman never lost; but it takes two to +keep up a shuttlecock, and Faith was welcome in that house. + +What work she did there for the next two or three weeks was best +known--not to herself--but to the two old ladies whose hearts she +cheered. And they knew not all; they did not know the leap of Faith's +heart at the thought of home, whenever, morning or noon or night, it +came into her head. She kept it out of her head as much as she could. + +And she went about from the top to the bottom of the house, even after +the first day she came, the same sort of sunbeam she was at home. She +took in hand Miss Danforth's broom and duster, and did Cindy's part of +setting cups and saucers; but that was a small matter. The helpful hand +which made itself so busy and the voice which ran music all up and down +the house, were never forgotten, even by the Frenchwoman. To Miss +Danforth, feeble and ailing, Faith ministered differently, and did +truly the work of an angel. More than once before the second day was +done, Miss Dilly repeated, "Faith, child, how glad I am I sent for +you!"--And Madame Danforth took to her mightily; opened heart and arms +without reservation; and delighting to have her company, carried her +down into the kitchen and initiated Faith into deep mysteries of the +science and art the head quarters of which are there. Now did Faith +learn new secrets about coffee, about eggs, about salads and about +vegetables, that she never knew before; and for some unknown reason she +was keen to learn, and liked the half hours over the kitchen fire with +Madame Danforth so well, that the little Frenchwoman grew proud of her +pupil. + +It was the third day of Faith's being at Pequot. Faith was engaged in +some gentle offices about the room, folding up clothes and putting +drawers in order. Miss Danforth's eye watched her, following every +movement, till Madame Danforth left the room to go out on business. +Faith was summoned then to her aunt's side. It was the darkening part +of the afternoon. Faith sat down at the foot of Miss Danforth's great +easy chair, looked into the fire, and wondered what they were doing at +Pattaquasset. + +"And so, Faith, child, you're taken to new ways, I hear." + +To Faith's quick ear, Miss Danforth's voice shewed a purpose. It was +less brisk than its old wont. Her answer was as simple as possible. +"Yes, aunt Dilly. It's true." + +"You don't think you're any better than you used to be--do you?" + +"No, ma'am. Yet my life is better, I hope." + +"I don't believe it! How could it be?" + +"In this at least, that I am the servant of God now. Before, I never +thought of serving him." + +"I never did," said Miss Dilly. "But"-- + +There was a silence. Faith's heart leapt to hear this confession, but +she said nothing and sat still as a mouse. + +"How's Mr. Linden getting on in Pattaquasset?" + +"Well" + +"You like him as well as ever?" + +"Yes." + +Alert questions. Rather faint answers. + +"Do you remember what he said one night, about everybody being +precious? Do you remember it, Faith?" + +"Yes, ma'am--very well." + +"I suppose I have thought of it five hundred and fifty times," Miss +Dilly went on. "What were the words, Faith? do you know 'em?" + +Faith did not move, only repeated, and if they had been literal +diamonds every word would not have seemed so precious to her,-- + +"'_They shall be mine, saith the Lord, in the day when I make up my +jewels_.'" + +"That's it!" said Miss Dilly. "Now go on, can you, Faith, and tell me +what it means." + +"It is spoken of the people that fear the Lord, aunt Dilly--it goes on-- + +"'_And I will spare them, as a man spareth his own on that serveth him. +Then shall ye return and discern between the righteous and the wicked, +between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not_.'" + +"Tell me more. Faith," said Miss Danforth presently in a subdued voice. +"I don't understand one thing about it from beginning to end." + +In answer to which Faith turned, took a Bible, and as one did of old, +preached unto her Jesus. It was very simple preaching. Faith told her +aunt the story even very much as she had told it to Johnny Fax; and +with the same sweet grave face and winning tongue which had drawn the +children. As earnest as they, Miss Dilly listened and looked, and +brought her strong sense to bear upon the words. Not with the same ease +of understanding. She said little, excepting to bid Faith 'go on,'--in +a tone that told the quest she was upon--unsatisfied yet. + +Faith went on, but preferred to let the Bible words speak instead of +her own. It brought Mrs. Custers to mind again, though this time +Faith's joy of heart made her words ring as from a sweet silver +trumpet. So they fell on the sick woman's ear; nor was there stay or +interruption till Faith heard the hall door close below. She shut the +book then; then her arm came round Miss Danforth's neck, and her kisses +spoke well enough the glad sympathy and encouragement Faith spoke in no +other way. One earnest return answered her. + +From that time, to read the Bible to her aunt was Faith's work; +morning, noon, and night, literally; sometimes far into the night. For +Miss Danforth, embracing what she had never known before, as the light +gradually broke upon her; and feeling that her time for study might be +made short, was in eager haste and longing to acquaint herself with the +broad field of duties and privileges, all new, now laid open before +her. Faith could not read too much; Miss Dilly could not listen too +long. + +"Faith, child," she said one night, late, when they were alone,--"can't +you pray for me?" + +"I do, aunt Dilly." + +"No, no! but I mean, can't you pray _with_ me?--now, here. Can't you, +Faith?" + +Faith kissed her; hid her face in her hands and trembled; and then +knelt and prayed. And many a time after that. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + + +The Saturday before Christmas, which was moreover the day but one +before, Squire Stoutenburgh went over to Pequot; and having checked off +his business items, drove straight to Madame Danforth's. The door was +opened to him by the Frenchwoman, who took him into a little room very +like herself, and left him; and in another minute or two Faith came in. +Her exclamation was with the unmistakeable tone and look of pleasure. + +"My dear, I am very glad to see you!" was part of the warm reply. "How +do you do?" + +"I do very well, sir." + +"Ah!"--said the Squire,--"I suppose so. Well I'll give you a chance to +do better. My dear, I'm going to carry you off,--you're wanted." + +"Am I?" said Faith with a quick change. "There's nothing the matter?" + +"Nothing _bad_," said the Squire. "At least I hope not! Will you go +home with me this afternoon?" + +"O yes, sir--and very glad! But did mother send for me?" + +"Sent for you if I could get you, Miss Faith. I don't suppose she'll +ever really interfere with your doings--if you choose to go and live in +the Moon, but she's half sick for the sight of you. That's prevalent +just now," said the Squire, "and she's not the worst case. The doctor +went off for fear he should take it;--but some people have duties, you +know, and can't stir." + +There was a tiny peachblossom tinge on Faith's cheek, which the Squire +was pleased to take note of. She stood with a thoughtful face the while. + +"I'll be ready, Mr. Stoutenburgh. When will you come for me?" + +The time was fixed, and Faith made her explanations to her friends; +promising that if need were she would some back again, or her mother, +after Christmas. Miss Dilly let her go very willingly, yet most +unwillingly; and Madame Danforth's reluctance had nothing to balance +it. So it was that Faith's joy had its wonted mixture of gravity when +she met the Squire again. + +"If you're not going to be glad to get home, I'm a rich man if I'll go +in with you!" he said as he put her in the sleigh and tucked her up +with shawls and buffalo robes. "That's the way!--first get power and +then abuse it." + +"Power! Mr. Stoutenburgh. What do you mean? I am very glad to go home. +Don't I look so?" She certainly did. + +"I mean that I haven't seen anybody smile since you went away," said +Mr. Stoutenburgh, proceeding to tuck himself up in like manner. "Except +Dr. Harrison. He kept himself in practice while he staid." + +Faith was silent; eying the snowy road and the jingling horse heads, +with a bounding feeling of heart that she was going home. She dared +allow it to herself now. + +"What do you guess made the doctor leave that fly-away horse of his for +Mr. Linden to tame?" said the Squire. "Has he any particular reason for +wishing to break his neck?" + +"Did he do that?" + +"Break his neck?--why no, not yet,--I suppose the doctor lives in +hopes. You take it coolly, Miss Faith! upon my word." + +"Mr. Stoutenburgh!--I meant, did he leave the horse for him. Dr. +Harrison knew there wasn't much danger, Mr. Stoutenburgh." + +Mr. Stoutenburgh touched up his own team. + +"I guess!"--he said slowly, "the doctor don't just know how much danger +there is. So Pattaquasset 'll have a chance to come down on both +feet--which that horse don't do often. We've had all sorts of goings +on, Miss Faith." + +"Have you, sir?" The question was put quietly enough, but there was a +little tinge of curiosity, too. + +"Yes," said the Squire, shaking his whip. "Sam Deacon's gone away and +Mr. Linden's grown unpopular. Aint that news?" + +"What do you mean, sir?" + +"Why Sam Deacon's gone away--" the Squire repeated coolly. "He was +getting rather too much of a sportin' character for our town, so a +friend of mine that was going to Egypt--or somewhere--took him along. +You needn't be uneasy about him--Miss Faith, he'll be taken care of. I +should have sent him a worse journey, only I was overruled." + +"And is he gone to Egypt?" said Faith. + +"Hardly got so far yet," said the Squire. "But I thought it would be +good for Sam's health--he's been a little weaker than usual about the +head lately." + +"That was only half of your news, Mr. Stoutenburgh," Faith said after +another interval of musing. + +"'Tother half's nothing wonderful. Mr. Linden's getting unpopular with +everybody in town that he don't make up to on the right side; and as +there's a good many of them, I'm afraid it'll spread. I've done _my_ +best to tell him how to quiet the matter, but you might just as well +tell a pepperidge which way to grow! Did you ever try to make him do +anything?" said the Squire, facing round upon Faith. + +The startling of Faith's eyes was like a flash; and something so her +colour went and came. The answer was a very orderly, "Yes, sir." + +"Hum--I s'pose he did it,--guess I'll come to you next time I want +anything done. Are you cold, my dear?" said the Squire renewing his +efforts at wrapping up. + +Faith's desire for Pattaquasset news was satisfied. She manifested no +more curiosity about anything; and so far as appeared in words, was +contented with her own thoughts. That however would have been a rash +conclusion. For thoughts do occupy that do not content; and Faith could +willingly have spared the hints in Mr. Stoutenburgh's last speech--and +indeed in several others. She by no means understood them thoroughly; +yet something of the drift and air of them she did feel, and felt as +unnecessary. There had been already in Faith's mind a doubtful look +towards the last evening she had spent in Pattaquasset; a certain +undefined consciousness that her action that night might have said or +seemed to say--she knew not what. She could find no fault with it, to +herself; there had been nothing that she could help; but yet this +consciousness made her more tender upon anything that touched the +subject. She had thought of it, and put it out of her head, several +times in these last weeks; and now Mr. Stoutenburgh's words had just +the effect to make her shy. Faith's mind however had been full of grave +and sweet things of late, and was in such a state now. The principal +feeling, which the Squire's words could not change, was of very deep +and joyous happiness; she was exceeding glad to go home; but at the +same time in a mood too quiet and sober for the wine of joy to get into +her head. + +Squire Stoutenburgh too seemed satisfied,--perhaps with the uncold hue +of Faith's cheeks; and now drove on at a rapid rate, talking only of +indifferent matters. The horses trotted quick over the smooth snow, and +the gathering lead colour overhead was touched with gleams of light +here and there, as the sun went down behind the Pattaquasset outlines. +Swiftly they jingled along, crossing the ferry and mounting the hill; +past trees and barns and village houses--then into the main street: +down which the horses flew with a will, thinking of oats and their good +stable, and unwillingly reined in at Mrs. Derrick's door. + +It was dark by that time--Faith could see little but the lights +glimmering in the windows, and indeed had no time to see much; so +suddenly and softly was she lifted out of the sleigh the moment it +stopped. Then Mr. Linden's voice said, + +"Thank you, Mr. Stoutenburgh!" + +"That's one way of thanking me!" said the Squire. "However--I suppose +it's all right,"--and gave his impatient horses their way. + +"Why Mr. Linden," said Faith half laughing, but with a little of the +old timidity in her voice,--"how could you see me before I saw you?" + +"For various reasons, Miss Faith. How do you do?" He led her on, into +the house and into the tea-room, there to delight her mother's heart +and make her mother's eyes overflow. + +"Pretty child!" Mrs. Derrick said,--"I never will let you go away again +for anybody!" + +Faith laughed, and kissed her and kissed her; but did not take that +moment to say what she thought--that Mrs. Derrick would have to let her +go again in a few days perhaps, and for Miss Danforth herself. Then her +eye glanced at the tea-table, as it might at an ungoverned kingdom--or +a vacated sphere; and the fulness of her heart broke out. + +"Mother!--I'm glad to be home again!" The tone said it yet more than +the words. And then with a sudden movement, she went off a step to Mr. +Linden and held out her hand to him, albeit ever so little shyly. The +hand was taken and kept, his eyes taking a quiet survey of her the +while. + +"Miss Faith, you want to be set to work! Some people will neglect +themselves if they have a chance." + +"I haven't done much work since I have been away, Mr. Linden." + +He smiled--what was he reading in her face? "You don't know what you +have done, child," he said. "But she looks glad, Mrs. Derrick,--and we +are very glad to have her." Whereupon Faith was conducted to the +tea-table without more delay; Mrs. Derrick feeling sure that she was +starving both with cold and hunger. + +Faith had no appearance of being cold; and though she certainly did eat +her supper as if she was glad to be at home, it was not with the air of +a person with whom his bread and butter is the first thought. Gladness +shone in every look and movement; but at the same time over all the +gladness there was a slight veil; it might be gravity, but it might not +be all gravity, for part of it was very like constraint; the eyes were +more ready to fall than to rise; and the words, though free to come, +had a great facility for running in short sentences. But Mrs. Derrick +was too happy to notice such light streaks of mist in the sunshine, and +talked away at a most unusual rate,--telling Faith how Mr. Linden had +ridden that 'wild horse,' and had found time to teach her little class, +and in general had done everything else--for everything seemed to hinge +upon him. Mr. Linden himself--with now and then a word to qualify, or +to make Faith laugh, took a somewhat special and quiet care of her and +her wants at the table; all which seemed to Faith (in her mood) very +like little gentle suggestions at that vail;--otherwise, he was rather +silent. + +Then followed prayers, with all the sweet warm influences of the time; +and then Faith might sit and talk or be silent, as she liked; rest +being considered the best work for that evening. It would seem that she +liked to be silent,--if that were a fair conclusion from her silence. +Her eye took happy note of the familiar things in and about the room; +then she sat and looked into the fireplace, as glad to see it again +maybe,--or doubtful about looking elsewhere. As silently, for a few +minutes, Mr. Linden took note of her: then he spoke. + +"Miss Faith, will you let me give you lessons all through the holidays?" + +She gave him a swift blushing glance and smile. "If you like to do it, +Mr. Linden--and if I am here." + +"Where do you find those two 'ifs'?" + +"I thought, perhaps, when I came away from Pequot to-day, that I might +go back again after Monday. I am afraid aunt Dilly will want me." + +"How much must people want you, to gain a hearing?" + +"There are different kinds of wanting," Faith said gravely. "Aunt Dilly +may miss me too much." + +"And the abstract 'too much,' is different from the comparative. What +about that other 'if'?" + +"The other 'if'?--I don't know that there is anything about it, Mr. +Linden," Faith said laughing. + +"Whence did it come?--before it 'trickeled,' as Bunyan says, to your +tongue?" + +"I don't know, sir!"-- + +"Miss Faith!--I did not think you would so forget me in three weeks. Do +you want to hear the story of a very cold, icy little brook?" he said, +with a sort of amused demureness that gave her the benefit of all his +adjectives. She looked up at him with earnest eyes not at all amused, +but that verged on being hurt; and it was with a sort of fear of what +the real answer might be, that she asked what he meant. + +"Miss Faith, I mean nothing very bad," he said with a full smile at her +then. "When I really think you are building yourself an ice palace, I +shall spend my efforts upon thawing, not talking. What have you been +doing all these weeks?" + +With a little bit of answering smile she said, in a deliberate kind of +way,--"I have been running about house--and learning how to cook French +cookery, Mr. Linden--and most of all, I've been reading the Bible. I +haven't had time to do much else." + +"Do you know," Mr. Linden said as he watched her, "that is just what I +thought?--And so you have been going step by step 'up the mountain'! Do +you see how the road improves?--do you find the 'richer pastures' and +the purer air?" + +"O sir," said Faith looking up at him,--"I was reading to aunt Dilly." + +"I know,--I understood that. Are not my words true still?" + +Gravity and shyness, all except the gravity that belonged to her and to +the subject, broke away from Faith. She rose up and stood beside Mr. +Linden, moved, happy, and glad with the gladness of full sympathy. + +"It has been a pleasant two weeks, Mr. Linden!--though I would have +liked to be at home. Aunt Dilly has wanted the Bible, morning, noon, +and night;--and it was wonderful to read it to her! It has been my +business, all these days." + +"My dear child! I am very glad!" he said, taking her hand. +"Wonderful?--yes, it is wonderful to read, to one who wants it." + +"She wanted it so much,"--Faith said, catching her breath a little. +"And understood it, Mr. Linden. Very soon it was all--or mostly--clear +to her. I read to her sometimes till twelve o'clock at night--and +sometimes began at four in the morning." + +Mr. Linden looked at her with a mingling of expressions. + +"I am afraid that was not good for you,--if one dare say it of any work +done in that service. Do you know how much the Bible is like that +pillar of fire which guided the Israelites, but to those who were not +of Israel became a pillar of cloud,--from which 'the Lord looked out' +but 'to trouble them'?" + +Faith's eye watched him as he spoke, and caught the power and beauty of +the illustration; but she did not speak. Until after thinking and +musing a while she said softly, "It don't trouble aunt Dilly." + +Mr. Linden drew up a chair for her near his own, but made no other +comment upon her or her musings at first,--then abruptly--"And you +think she will want you again?" + +"There is nobody else to do this for her," said Faith; and again was +silent. "How do you suppose it all began with aunt Dilly, Mr. Linden?" + +"As to means?--I cannot tell." + +"It began from a few words, which I dare say you have forgotten, but +which she and I remember,--words that you said one evening when she was +here last summer, about everybody's being precious in one sense.--You +repeated that passage--'They shall be mine, saith the Lord,'--you know." + +Faith did not know what a soft illumination was in her eyes, or she +would probably not have turned the light of it so full upon Mr. Linden +as at one or two points of her speech she did. It was a grave, sweet +look that answered her; but then his eyes went off to the fire without +further reply. + +Faith did not again interrupt the silence; a silence that to judge by +the faces of both was pleasant to both. Till Mrs. Derrick came in, who +indeed could not be very long absent. Then Faith left her place, sat +down on a low seat by her mother and caressingly took possession of her +hands and arms. She made no more startling propositions that night of +going back to Pequot again; and the minutes of the evening flowed +on--as such minutes do. + +The Sunday which followed was one as quietly happy as is often known in +this world. And the next day was Christmas. + + + + + +END OF VOL. I. + + + +PRINTING OFFICE OF THE PUBLISHER. + + + + + + + +Typographical errors silently corrected: + + +chapter 5: =There is no fear= replaced by ="There is no fear= + +chapter 6: =tête à-tête= replaced by =tête-à-tête= + +chapter 6: =Simlin's questions= replaced by =Simlins' questions= + +chapter 6: =ask the boys nothin= replaced by =ask the boys nothin'= + +chapter 6: =bargain," he said,= replaced by =bargain," he said.= + +chapter 7: =cause she wants you= replaced by ='cause she wants you= + +chapter 7: =kep' your ma to supper= replaced by =kep' your 'ma to +supper= + +chapter 8: =real sponsible= replaced by =real 'sponsible= + +chapter 9: =nutsdid= replaced by =nuts did= + +chapter 10: =this tone implied= replaced by =his tone implied= + +chapter 11: =endless day!= replaced by =endless day!'"= + +chapter 12: =Wether he had or no= replaced by =Whether he had or no= + +chapter 13: =well-dressed= replaced by =well-dressed= + +chapter 15: =What you have been doing= replaced by =what have you been +doing= + +chapter 22: =Mr. David has sent= replaced by =Mr. Davids has sent= + +chapter 22: ="Won't you rest= replaced by =Won't you rest= + +chapter 23: =should'nt be right= replaced by =shouldn't be right= + +chapter 26: =you're growing= replaced by ="you're growing= + +chapter 28: =Mr. Somers said good= replaced by =Mrs. Somers said good= + +chapter 32: =s'il vous plait= replaced by =s'il vous plaît= + +chapter 34: =starvation creatur= replaced by =starvation creatur'= + +chapter 34: =to his arm,= replaced by =to his arm.= + +chapter 36: =slowly, the doctor= replaced by =slowly, "the doctor= + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Say and Seal, Volume I, by +Susan Warner and Anna Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAY AND SEAL, VOLUME I *** + +***** This file should be named 28544-8.txt or 28544-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/5/4/28544/ + +Produced by Daniel Fromont + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/28544-8.zip b/28544-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4d0795e --- /dev/null +++ b/28544-8.zip diff --git a/28544.txt b/28544.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..79891a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/28544.txt @@ -0,0 +1,19917 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Say and Seal, Volume I, by Susan Warner and Anna Warner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Say and Seal, Volume I + +Author: Susan Warner + Anna Warner + +Release Date: April 8, 2009 [EBook #28544] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAY AND SEAL, VOLUME I *** + + + + +Produced by Daniel Fromont + + + + + + + + + +[Transcriber's note: Susan Warner (1819-1885) & Anna Warner +(1824-1915), _Say and seal_(1860), Tauchnitz edition 1860 volume 1] + + + + + + +COLLECTION + +OF + +BRITISH AUTHORS + + + +VOL. CCCXCVIII. + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + + + +IN TWO VOLUMES. + + + +VOL. I. + + + + + +"If any man make religion as twelve, and the world as thirteen, such a +one hath not the spirit of a true New England man." + +HIGGINSON. + + + + + +PREFACE. + + + +It is a melancholy fact, that this book is somewhat larger than the +mould into which most of the fluid fiction material is poured in this +degenerate age. You perceive, good reader, that it has run over--in the +latest volume. + +Doubtless the Procrustean critic would say, "Cut it off,"--which point +we waive. + +The book is really of very moderate limits--considering that two women +had to have their say in it. + +It is pleasant to wear a glove when one shakes hands with the Public; +therefore we still use our ancestors' names instead of our own,--but it +is fair to state, that in this case there are a pair of gloves!--Which +is the right glove, and which the left, the Public will never know. + +A word to that "dear delightful" class of readers who believe +everything that is written, and do not look at the number of the last +page till they come to it--nor perhaps even then. Well they and the +author know, that if the heroine cries--or laughs--too much, it is +nobody's fault but her own! Gently they quarrel with him for not +permitting them to see every Jenny happily married and every Tom with +settled good habits. Most lenient readers!--when you turn publishers, +then will such books doubt less be written! Meantime, hear this. + +In a shady, sunshiny town, lying within certain bounds--geographical or +imaginary,--these events (really or in imagination) occurred. Precisely +when, the chroniclers do not say. Scene opens with the breezes which +June, and the coming of a new school teacher, naturally create. After +the fashion of the place, his lodgings are arranged for him beforehand, +by the School Committee. But where, or in what circumstances, the scene +may close,--having told at the end of the book, we do not incline to +tell at the beginning. + + + +ELIZABETH WETHERELL. + +AMY LOTHROP. + + + +NEW YORK, _Feb. 1, 1860_. + + + + + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + + + +BY + +THE AUTHOR OF "WIDE WIDE WORLD," + +AND + +THE AUTHOR OF "DOLLARS AND CENTS." + + + +_COPYRIGHT EDITION_. + + + +IN TWO VOLUMES. + + + +VOL. I. + + + +LEIPZIG + +BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ + +1860. + + + + + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + +VOL. I. + + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +The street was broad, with sidewalks, and wide grass-grown borders, and +a spacious track of wheels and horses' feet in the centre. Great elms, +which the early settlers planted, waved their pendant branches over the +peaceful highway, and gave shelter and nest-room to numerous orioles, +killdeer, and robins; putting off their yellow leaves in the autumn, +and bearing their winter weight of snow, in seeming quiet assurance +that spring would make amends for all. So slept the early settlers in +the churchyard! + + +Along the street, at pleasant neighbourly intervals--not near enough to +be crowded, nor far enough to be lonely--stood the +houses,--comfortable, spacious, compact,--"with no nonsense about +them." The Mong lay like a mere blue thread in the distance, its course +often pointed out by the gaff of some little sloop that followed the +bends of the river up toward Suckiaug. The low rolling shore was +spotted with towns and spires: over all was spread the fairest blue sky +and floating specks of white. + +Not many sounds were astir,--the robins whistled, thief-like, over the +cherry-trees; the killdeer, from some high twig, sent forth his sweet +clear note; and now and then a pair of wheels rolled softly along the +smooth road: the rush of the wind filled up the pauses. Anybody who was +down by the Mong might have heard the soft roll of his blue +waters,--any one by the light-house might have heard the harsher dash +of the salt waves. + +I might go on, and say that if anybody had been looking out of Mrs. +Derrick's window he or she might have seen--what Mrs. Derrick really +saw! For she was looking out of the window (or rather through the +blind) at the critical moment that afternoon. It would be too much to +say that she placed herself there on purpose,--let the reader suppose +what he likes. + +At the time, then, that the village clock was striking four, when +meditative cows were examining the length of their shadows, and all the +geese were setting forth for their afternoon swim, a stranger opened +Mrs. Derrick's little gate and walked in. Stretching out one hand to +the dog in token of good fellowship, (a classical mind might have +fancied him breaking the cake by whose help Quickear got past the +lions,) he went up the walk, neither fast nor slow, ascended the steps, +and gave what Mrs. Derrick called "considerable of a rap" at the door. +That done, he faced about and looked at the far off blue Mong. + +Not more intently did he eye and read that fair river; not more swiftly +did his thoughts pass from the Mong to things beyond human ken; than +Mrs. Derrick eyed and read--his back, and suffered her ideas to roam +into the far off regions of speculation. The light summer coat, the +straw hat, were nothing uncommon; but the silk umbrella was too good +for the coat--the gloves and boots altogether extravagant! + +"He ain't a bit like the Pattaquasset folks, Faith," she said, in a +whisper thrown over her shoulder to her daughter. + +"Mother--" + +Mrs. Derrick replied by an inarticulate sound of interrogation. + +"I wish you wouldn't stand just there. Do come away!" + +"La, child," said Mrs. Derrick, moving back about half an inch, "he's +looking off into space." + +"But he'll be in.--" + +"Not till somebody goes to the door," said Mrs. Derrick, "and there's +not a living soul in the house but us two." + +"Why didn't you say so before? Must I go, mother?" + +"He didn't seem in a hurry," said her mother,--"and I wasn't. Yes, you +can go if you like, child--and if you don't like, I'll go." + +With a somewhat slower step than usual, with a slight hesitating touch +of her hand to the smooth brown hair which lay over her temples, Miss +Faith moved through the hall to the front door, gently opened it, and +stood there, in the midst of the doorway, fronting the stranger. By no +means an uncomely picture for the frame; for the face was good, the +figure trim, and not only was the rich hair smooth, but a little white +ruffle gave a dainty setting to the throat and chin which rose above +it, both themselves rather on the dainty order. + +I say fronting the stranger,--yet to speak truth the stranger was not +fronting her. For having made one more loud appeal to the knocker, +having taken off his hat, the better to feel the soft river breeze, he +stood as before "looking off into space;" but with one hand resting +more decidedly upon the silk umbrella. + +Faith took a minute's view of decidedly pleasant outlines of shoulders +and head--or what she thought such--glanced at the hand which grasped +the umbrella handle,--and then lifting her own fingers to the knocker +of the door, caused it gently to rise and fall. + +A somewhat long breath escaped the stranger--as if the sound chimed in +with his thoughts--nothing more. + +Faith stood still and waited. + +Perhaps that last sound of the knocker had by degrees asserted its +claim to reality; perhaps impatience began to assert _its_ claim; +perhaps that long elm-tree shadow which was creeping softly on, even to +his very feet, broke in upon the muser's vision. Certainly he turned +with a very quick motion towards the door, and a gesture of the hand +which said that this time the knocker should speak out. The door +however stood open,--the knocker beyond his reach; and Miss Faith so +nearly within it, that he dropped his hand even quicker than he had +raised it. + +"I beg your pardon!" he said, with a grave inclination of the head. "I +believe I knocked." + +"Yes, sir--I thought you had forgotten," said Faith; not with perfect +demureness, which she would like to have achieved. "Will you please to +come in?" And somewhat regardless of consequences, leaving the hall +door where it stood, Faith preceded her guest along the hall and again +performed for him the office of door-opener at the parlour, ushering +him thus into the presence of her mother. + +Mrs. Derrick was seated in the rocking-chair, at the furthest corner +from the window, and perfectly engrossed with the last monthly +magazine. But she came out of them all with wonderful ease and +promptness, shook hands very cordially with the new comer, seated him +in her corner and chair before he could make much resistance, and would +also have plunged him into the magazine--but there he was firm. + +"If you would only make yourself comfortable while I see where your +baggage is?" said the good lady. + +"But I can tell you where it is, ma'am," said he looking up at +her,--"it is at the station, and will be here in half an hour." + +"Well when did you have dinner?" said Mrs. Derrick, resolved upon doing +something. + +"Yesterday," was his quiet reply. "To-day I have been in the cars." + +"O my! my!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"then of course we'll have tea at once. +Faith!" + +"I'm here, mother. I'll go and see to it, right away." + +But in some mysterious manner the stranger reached the doorway before +either of the ladies. + +"Mrs. Derrick--Miss Faith--I told you that I had had no dinner, and +that was true. It is also true that I am in not the least hurry for +tea. Please do not have it until your usual time." And he walked back +to his seat. + +But after the slightest possible pause of hesitancy, Faith had +disappeared. Her mother followed her. + +"Child," she said, "what on earth is his name?" + +"Mother! how should I know? I didn't ask him." + +"But the thing is," said Mrs. Derrick, "I _did_ know,--the Committee +told me all about it. And of course he thinks I know, and I don't--no +more than I do my great-grandmother's name, which I never did remember +yet." + +"Mother--shall I go and ask him?--or wait till after supper?" + +"O you sha'n't go," said her mother. "Wait till after supper and we'll +send Cindy. He won't care about his name till he gets his tea, I'll +warrant. But what made you so long getting the door open, child? Does +it stick?" + +"Why," said Faith, baring her arms and entering upon sundry quick +movements about the room, "it _was_ open and he didn't know it." + +"Didn't know it!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"my! I hope he ain't +short-sighted. Now Faith, I'm not going to have you burn your face for +all the school teachers in Connecticut. Keep away, child, I'll put on +the kettle myself. Cindy must have found her beau again--it's as +tiresome as tiresome can be." + +"It's just as well, mother; I'd rather do it myself. Now you go in and +find what his name is, and I'll have everything together directly. The +oven's hot now." + +"I'll go in presently," said Mrs. Derrick; "but as to asking him what +his name is--la, child, I'd just as soon ask him where he came from." +And in deep thought on the subject, Mrs. Derrick stepped briskly about +the kitchen. + +"Faith," she said, "where shall I ask him to sit?" + +"Will you pour out tea--or shall I, mother?" + +"What's that to do?" + +"Why I was thinking--but it don't matter where you put him. There's +four sides to the table." + +"Don't talk of my putting him anywhere, child--I'm as afraid of him as +can be." And Mrs. Derrick went back to see how time went with her guest. + +It went fast or slow, I suppose, after all, somewhat according to the +state of his appetite. One hour and ten minutes certainly had slipped +away--if he was hungry he knew that another ten minutes was following +in train--when at length the parlour door opened again and Faith stood +there, with a white apron on and cheeks a good deal heightened in +colour since the date of their last appearance. + +"Mother, tea's ready. Cindy hasn't got back." And having made this +gentle announcement, Faith disappeared again, leaving it to her mother +to shew the way to the supper-room. + +This was back of the parlour and communicated with the kitchen, from +which Faith came in as they entered, bearing a plate of white biscuits, +smoking hot, in her hand. The floor was painted with thick yellow +paint, smooth and shining; plenty of windows let in plenty of light and +the sweet evening air; the table stood covered with a clean brownish +table-cloth,--but what a supper covered that! Rosy slices of boiled +ham, snowy rounds of 'milk emptyings', bread, strawberries, +pot-cheeses, pickles, fried potatoes, and Faith's white cakes, with tea +and coffee! + +Now as Faith had laid the clean napkin for the stranger at the foot of +the table, opposite her mother, it cannot be thought presumption in him +that he at once took his seat there; thus relieving Mrs. Derrick's mind +of an immense responsibility. Yet something in his manner then made her +pause and look at him, though she did not expect to see him bow his +head and ask for a blessing on the meal before them. If that was +presumption, neither of his hearers felt it so,--the little flush on +the mother's cheek told rather of emotion, of some old memory now +quickened into life. Her voice even trembled a little as she said,-- + +"Will you have tea or coffee, sir?" + +And Faith offered her biscuit. + +"Or there's bread, if you like it better, sir." + +"The biscuits are best," said her mother,--"Faith's biscuits are always +good." + +And he took a biscuit, while a very slight unbending of the lines of +his face said that the excellence of Faith's handiwork was at least not +always so apparent. + +"Miss Faith, what shall I give you in return that is beyond your reach +and (comparatively) within mine?" + +Possibly--possibly, the slight grave opening of two rather dark eyes +confessed that in her apprehension the store thus designated, from +which he might give her, was very large indeed. But if that was so, her +lips came short of the truth, for she answered,-- + +"I don't want anything, thank you." + +"Not even butter?"--with his hand on the knife. + +Faith seemed inclined not to want butter, but finally submitted and +held out her plate. Whereupon, having helped her and himself, the +stranger diverged a little, with the rather startling question, + +"What sort of a Flora have you in this neighbourhood?" + +"There isn't any, mother?" said Faith, with a doubtful appeal towards +the tea-tray. + +A pleasant look fell upon her while her look went away--a look which +said he would like to tell her all about the matter, then and there; +but merely taking another of the white biscuits, he went on to ask +whether the roads were good and the views fine. + +"The roads are first-rate," said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't know much of +views myself, but Faith thinks they're wonderful." + +"I don't suppose they are _wonderful_," said Faith; "but it is pretty +up the Mong, and I am sure, mother, it's pretty down on the shore +towards the sunsetting." + +"And how is it towards the sunrising?" + +"I never saw it--we never go down there then," Faith said, with a very +frank smile. + +"Faith always stays by me," said Mrs. Derrick; "if I can t go, she +won't. And of course I never can at that time of day. It's quite a way +down to the shore." + +"What shore?" + +"It's the sea-shore--that is, not the real sea-shore--it's only the +Sound," said Faith; "but there is the salt-water, and it is as good as +the sea." + +"How far off?" said the stranger, bestowing upon Faith a saucer of +strawberries. + +Faith would have asked him to help himself, but taking notice mentally +that he was extremely likely to do so, she contented herself with +replying, "It's about two miles." + +"And what are some of the 'good' things there?" + +"Perhaps you wouldn't think it much," said Faith modestly;--"but the +water is pretty, and I like to see the ships and vessels on it going up +and down; and the points of the shore and the wet stones look such +beautiful colours when the sun is near set." + +"I like stones--whether wet or dry," said her questioner. + +"Most people here don't like them," said Faith. "But there are plenty +down by the sea-shore.--And plenty on the farm too," she added. + +"Ah, people like and dislike things for very different reasons, Miss +Faith," he answered; "so perhaps your neighbours and I are not so far +apart in our opinions as you may think. Only I believe, that while +there is 'a time to cast away stones,' there is also 'a time to gather +stones together'--and therein perhaps they would not agree with me." + +Faith looked up, and her lips parted--and if the thought had been +spoken which parted them, it would probably have been a confession that +she did not understand, or a request for more light. But if her face +did not say it for her she did not say it for herself. + +If anybody could have seen Mrs. Derrick's face while these little +sentences went back and forth, he would have acknowledged it was worth +the sight. Her awe and admiration of every word uttered by the +stranger--the intense interest with which she waited for every word +spoken by Faith--the slight look of anxiety changing to one of perfect +satisfaction,--was pretty to see. + +"Faith," she said when tea was over, and her guest had walked to the +front door to take another look at 'space,' "Faith, don't you think he +liked his supper?" + +"I should think he would--after having no dinner," said Faith. + +"But it was such a mercy, child, that you hadn't gone out to supper +anywhere--I can't think what I should have done. There's Cindy this +minute!--run and tell her to go right away and find out what his name +is--tell her I want to know,--you can put it in good words." + +"Mother!--I'd rather ask him myself." + +But that did not suit Mrs. Derrick's ideas of propriety. And stepping +out into the kitchen she despatched Cindy on her errand. Cindy +presently came back from the front door, and went into the dining-room, +but not finding Mrs. Derrick she handed a card to Faith. + +"It's easy done," said Cindy. "I just asked him if he'd any objections +towards tellin' his name--and he kinder opened his eyes at me and said +no. Then I said, says I, Mis' Derrick do know, and she'd like ter. +'Miss Derrick!' says he--and he took out his pencil and writ that. But +I'd like to know _what_ he cleans his pencil with," said Cindy in +conclusion, "for I'm free to confess I never see brass shine so in my +born days." + +Faith took the card and read,-- + + JOHN ENDECOTT LINDEN. + + +She looked a little curiously at the pencilling, at the formation of +the capitals and of the small letters; then laid it down and gave her +attention to the dishes of the supper-table. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + +The next day was Saturday. The morning opened with grey clouds, +covering the sky, but which were light and light-broken and promised to +roll away entirely as soon as the sun should reach a commanding +position in the heavens. The sun however was still quite distant from +such a position, in fact was not much more than an hour high, when +Lucinda, who was sweeping the front door steps, was hailed from the +front door by a person not one of the party of the preceding evening, +and very unlike either of them. It was a lady, not young, of somewhat +small figure, trim, and nicely dressed. Indeed she was rather +handsomely dressed and in somewhat French taste; she had showy gold +earrings in her ears, and a head much more in the mode than either Mrs. +Derrick's or her daughter's. The face of this lady was plain, +decidedly; but redeemed by a look of sense and shrewdness altogether +unmixed with ill nature. The voice spoke alert and pleasantly. + +"So Lucindy, you had company last night, didn't you?" + +"May be we did and may be we didn't," said Lucindy, brushing away with +great energy at an imaginary bit of lint at the end of the upper step. +"I do' know but we'd just as good call him one of the family." + +"So much at home already? I missed seeing him last night--I couldn't +get home. What's he like, Cindy? and what has he done?" + +"Done?" said Cindy--"well he's went out a'most afore I was up. And as +to like, Miss Dilly--just you look at him when he comes in. He looks +some like folks, and yet he don't, neither." + +"He's out, is he?" + +"Yes," said Cindy, reducing a large family of spiders to temporary +starvation and despair,--"he's out--if he ain't gone in nowheres. Miss +Dilly, if you'll stand just inside the door I can wash the steps just +as well. + +"What's the gentleman out so early for? Maybe he's missed some of his +luggage, Cindy." + +"Hope he ha'n't got no more--without its lighter," said Cindy. +"However, he carried it upstairs himself, I'm free to confess. I guess +'twarn't for luggage he went out, 'cause he asked about breakfast time, +special." + +"If he means to be out till then he'll have a good walk of it." + +It wanted five minutes of breakfast time, and Mrs. Derrick--what with +stepping into the kitchen to oversee Cindy, and stepping to the front +window to oversee the street--was warm enough for a cooler morning. + +"Faith," she said, referring as usual to her daughter, "Faith--what +shall we do if he don't come?" + +"I guess he'll come, mother;--he knows the time. The things won't hurt +much by waiting a little." + +As she spoke, the little front gate swung softly to, and the person in +question came leisurely up the steps and into the hall. Then having +just glanced into the parlour, he at once--with a promptitude which +bespoke him too punctual himself to doubt the punctuality of +others--advanced to the dining-room door and walked in. + +Mrs. Derrick's face shewed gratification mingled with her good nature. +Faith smiled; and Miss Dilly was duly introduced as Miss Delia +Danforth, Mrs. Derrick's aunt, then on a visit at Pattaquasset. + +"You've taken an early stroll this morning, sir," said this last lady. +"View the country?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden, "I have been viewing the town." + +"Ah! Well I call that viewing the country. Town and country, all's one +here; and it makes a very pleasant sort of place. But what do you call +the _town_, sir?--Do you drink coffee?" + +"The town," said Mr. Linden, in answer to the first question--receiving +his coffee-cup from Mrs. Derrick by way of answer to the +second,--"means in this instance, Miss Danforth, that spot of country +which is most thickly settled. Yes, ma'am--I drink coffee." + +"Very bad for you, sir; don't you know it?" + +"Bad for me as one of the human race? or as an individual specially +marked out not to drink it?" + +"Dear me!" said Miss Danforth sipping her own tea--"I don't know what +you are 'marked out' for. I think it's a mistake for everybody to think +he is 'marked' for something special--they set the mark themselves, and +generally it don't fit." + +"But the fact that a man often gets the wrong mark, by no means proves +that there is no right one which belongs to him," said Mr. Linden, +looking gravely at Faith as if he meant she should smile. + +Faith seemed to look at the question however rather seriously, for +dropping her knife and fork she asked, + +"How shall a man know his mark?" + +"By earnest consideration and prayer," he answered, really grave this +time. "I know of no other way, Miss Faith." + +What a remark that was! it silenced the whole table. Knives and forks +and spoons had it alone, with only words of necessity; till Faith asked +Mr. Linden if he would not have another cup of coffee. + +"Certainly!" he said handing her his cup. "There is so much to be said +on both sides of that little bit of china--I must not be partial in my +attention." + +"But you can't study both sides of a subject at once," said the +coffee-hater. + +"Then take them alternately--and (figuratively) walk round your +coffee-cup, surveying its fair proportions from different points of +view. If the coffee is strong and you are nervous--that's one thing. +Again, if the coffee be weak and you be phlegmatic--that's another." + +"The coffee's not strong to-day," said Mrs. Derrick with a regretful +shake of the head. + +"Nor am I phlegmatic,"--with the slightest possible indication of a +smile. + +"Do you think," said Miss Danforth, "a man is better able to decide +questions of common judgment for having studied a great deal?--learned +a great many things, I mean." + +"That depends very much upon what effect his studies have had upon his +judgment. Mrs. Derrick--are you trying to break me off from coffee by +degrees? this cup has no sugar in it." + +"O my!" said Mrs. Derrick, colouring up in the greatest confusion. "I +do beg your pardon, sir! Faith, take the sugar-bowl, child, and pick +out some large lumps." + +"You will get more praise from Miss Danforth than blame from me, +ma'am," said Mr. Linden, submitting his cup to Faith's amendment and +watching the operation. + +"_I_ don't know," said Miss Danforth goodhumouredly. "Maybe he can +stand it.--If he takes two cups I should say he can. How do you like +the profession of teaching, sir?" + +Now to say truth, Mr. Linden did not know--not by actual practice, but +it was also a truth which he did not feel bound to disclose. He +therefore stirred his coffee with a good deal of deliberation, and even +tasted it, before he replied, + +"What would you say to me, Miss Danforth, if I professed to be fond of +teaching some people some things? Miss Faith, that last lump of sugar +was potent." + +"What sort of people, and what sort of things, for instance?" said the +lady. + +"The things I know best, and the people who think they know least--for +instance," he replied. + +"I should say you know definitions," was Miss Danforth's again +goodhumoured rejoinder. + +"What did you say was the matter with the sugar, sir?" said Faith. + +"I said it was potent, Miss Faith,--or I might have said, powerful. But +indeed it was not the sugar's fault--the difficulty was, there was not +enough coffee to counterbalance it." + +"I put in too much!" said Faith, making a regretful translation of this +polite speech. + +"Yes"--said Mr. Linden with great solemnity as he set down the empty +cup,--"but too much sugar is at least not a common misfortune. With +what appreciation I shall look back to this, some day when I have not +enough! What did you think of the sunrise this morning?" + +"Do you mean, because the sky was covered with clouds?" said Faith. +"But there was enough--the sun looked through; and the colours were +beautiful. Did you see them?" + +"I wonder when you did, child?" said Miss Danforth;--"up to your elbows +in butter!" + +"Yes, I saw them. Then you are true to your name, Miss Faith, and find +'enough' in a cloudy sky?--Pray, Miss Danforth, what depth of butter +does a churning yield in this region?" + +"I guess," said Miss Danforth laughing, "you never saw much of farmer's +work--did you?" + +"Is butter-making farmer's work?" said Mr. Linden with a face of grave +inquiry. + +"Here's the trustys"--said Cindy opening the door; "at least that's +what they said they be, but I'm free to confess 'tain't nobody but +Squire Deacon and Parson Somers." + +"Do they want me?" said Mr. Linden looking round. + +"I guess likely"--said Cindy. "The Squire does come here to see Miss +Faith, but I guess 'tain't her he wants this time." + +And Cindy vanished. + +"What do the trustees want?" said Miss Danforth. + +"Upon the testimony of Cinderella, they want me," said Mr. Linden. +"Miss Faith, may I have a glass of water?--What they want to do with +me, Miss Danforth, is a little uncertain." + +"Well," said Miss Danforth, "I think you'll be able to prevent them!" + +He rose to take the glass from Faith's hand, and then merely inquiring +whether the ladies were coming to second him, left the room. + +Parson Somers was a young-looking, good-looking, affable gentleman, who +pressed the ladies' hands very cordially and was very happy to see +them. Squire Deacon was younger, and likewise good looking, but +affability he had never been charged with. Over the handsome cut of +face, the strong well-built figure, he wore a manner as rough as a +bear's great-coat; only at some times and for some people the roughness +was brushed down. It never would stay, any more than the various +elegant phrases with which Deacon sometimes seasoned his speech, would +take root there and spread. + +"Quite an agreeable variation," said Mr. Somers,--"ha--in such a place +as Pattaquasset--to have a new arrival among us. Mr. Linden--I hope you +will like our little town. You have a pleasant experience of us to +begin with." + +"Yes but, Parson, don't make him think we're all like some," said +Squire Deacon,--and as he turned towards Faith the beaming of his face +seemed almost reflected in his brass buttons. "Dreadful gloomy morning, +Miss Faith!" + +"Mr. Linden has probably seen too much of the world," said Mr. +Somers,--"not to know that--ha!--too great a preponderance of good is +not to be looked for." + +"May as well look for as much as you can find," said Miss Danforth. "A +good deal's lost by not looking for it." + +"Ah," said the Squire, with another glance at Faith, "it's not so hard +to find things, neither, Miss Danforth. You remember Sinbad the sailor +lookin' down into the vale of diamonds?" + +"Don't remember him a bit. What did he see there?" + +"Nothin' _but_ diamond jewellery," said Squire Deacon in a sentimental +tone. "Miss Faith, you doubtless recollect the tale?" + +"I hope," said Mr. Somers,--"ha!--friend Deacon--you don't mean that +Mr. Linden should look for a valley of diamonds in Pattaquasset?" + +"Whereabouts does the valley lie, sir?" said Mr. Linden. + +But the Squire, as if a new idea had struck him, replied somewhat +brusquely, + +"It don't lie nowheres, sir, nowheres but in fancy's field." + +"I suppose," said Mr. Somers smiling blandly, "Mr. Linden's peculiar +course of business don't lead him much into that field." + +"You can strike into it 'most anywhere," said Miss Danforth. "Mr. +Linden's an early man--he'll find the valley of diamonds, if it's in +the town." + +"Miss Faith told me there were stones enough here," he said, "but she +did not hint that any of them were precious." + +"We shall expect," said Mr. Somers, "to see some of our stones--I mean, +some of our hard heads and thick heads--grow precious, +or--a--improve!--under Mr. Linden's management." + +"Pray sir," said Squire Deacon, suddenly recollecting that he was a +'trusty,' "what do you consider the best plan for the instruction of +youth? what is your method?" + +Mr. Linden looked contemplatively out of the window. + +"I think sir, if the boys are very rough I should first teach them +manners. If they are smoother boys, I should teach them spelling,--if +they have already learned spelling, I should let them read." + +The Squire bowed. + +"Quite satisfactory, sir. Mr. Somers--I think perhaps Mr. Linden would +like to visit our little temple of litteratur." + +"I should be very gratified to accompany Mr. Linden in viewing so much +of Pattaquasset. I trust, Mr. Linden, that the highest--ha--the moral +and religious teaching, of the youth here, will not be quite overlooked +in your system." + +The reply that first rose to Mr. Linden's lips came not forth. He +checked himself--rather perhaps in deference to the subject than +anything else, and simply answered, + +"I trust not, sir." + +And with many low bows from the Squire, the two gentlemen went into the +hall, Mr. Linden following. But he came back the next moment to ask the +dinner hour. + +"We are as apt to have it at noon as any time," said Faith. "Will that +do, Mr. Linden? we could have it later." + +"That will do perfectly. Only if the 'temple of literature' opens and +swallows me up, Miss Faith, don't wait--that's all." + +And with a smile that was a strong contrast to the face he had bestowed +upon the trustees, he went after them. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + +Monday morning came, with its hands full of work. They were willing +hands that were outstretched to receive the load,--strong hands too, +and skilful; but it may be, better suited to other work. Certainly as +the days passed Endecott's gravity took a deeper tinge, and his words +became fewer. Still maintaining his morning walk, and a like tasting of +the air at night,--ever punctual at meals, and when there displaying an +unruffled equanimity and cheerfulness,--the even tones of his voice +shewed sometimes a little weariness, and his step grew more thoughtful. +And so the week rolled on, and the afternoon sun of Friday began to +near the horizon. + +It was a warm afternoon, soft and balmy; a little haze on the sky, the +least veil upon the Mong's further shore; the summer roses hanging +their heads, heavy with sleep and sweetness. The honeysuckles on the +porch grew sweeter and sweeter as the sun went down, and the +humming-birds dipped into those long flagons, or poised them selves in +mid-air for a survey. + +In the porch sat the three ladies. Each had been busy, and now each +laid down her work, obedient to unseen influences. The warm breeze was +softly rubbing Faith's cheek with its rouging fingers, and her mother +gazed--nor could give one look to humming-birds or roses. + +Her thoughts however, took greater range--or the low chiming of the +village clock sent them off; for she presently said, + +"Faith, my dear, what have we got for tea?"--that meal being under +Faith's special superintendence. + +"Very good blackberries, mother, and beautiful raspberries; and I cut +my cream-cheese; and Cindy is ready to bake the bannocks. Butter's as +sweet as it can be, this churning. Will that do?--Mr. Linden likes +raspberries and cream," she added a little lower. + +Mrs. Derrick gave a comprehensive "Yes, child," to both parts of +Faith's reply, and then stopped and looked away up the street. For down +the street at that moment came Mr. Linden, walking leisurely, his head +bent towards one of his older scholars who had both hands clasped round +his arm. The boy's upraised eager face shewed even at a distance how +earnestly he was talking. + +"There he comes!" said Miss Danforth. + +"Who is that with him?" said Faith. + +"Reuben Taylor, child," her mother answered. + +Then as they came near the gate, and stopped and shook hands, Reuben +cried out (in answer to words which they did not hear) + +"Let _me_ go! do, please, Mr. Linden!"--and went; while his teacher +opened the gate, picked one of the drooping roses, came up the steps +and taking off his hat bowed to the assembled ladies. + +"Well, Mr. Linden," said Miss Danforth, "how do you find the +Pattaquasset diamonds?" + +"I find, madam, that they shine--as is the custom of diamonds." + +"Are you going to let Reuben Taylor go?" + +"Whither?" said Mr. Linden. + +"Why, where he asked you. Is _he_ one of Mr. Somers' precious stones?" + +"He has gone," was the smiling reply. "Precious?--yes,--everybody is +precious in one sense." + +"You haven't been to college for nothing," said Miss Danforth, who +would talk about anything. "I should like you to find out in what sense +_I_ am precious. I've a good many friends--but there isn't one of 'em +that wouldn't eat and drink just as well with me out of the world as in +it." + +He smiled a little--though rather soberly, and stood watching the +changing colours of clouds and sky for a minute or two without +speaking. Then, half to himself as it were, low but very distinctly, he +repeated-- + +"'And they shall be mine, saith the Lord, in the day when I make up my +jewels.'" + +The answer to this was only in pantomime, but striking. Miss Danforth +did not speak, and instead thereof turned her head over her shoulder +and looked away steadily over the meadows which stretched north of the +house into the distance. Faith's eyes fell to the floor and the lids +drooped over them; and as plain a veil of shadow fell upon her face. +Mrs. Derrick's eyes went from one to the other with a look which was +not unwonted with her, and a little sigh which said she thought +everybody was good but herself. + +"Bain't ye never comin' in to supper?" said Cindy, framing herself in +the doorway. "I want to get out after supper, Miss Faith," she said +dropping her voice,--"I do, real bad." + +"Is all ready, Cindy?" + +"Yes marm," said Cindy. "I'm free to confess there's a pile o' cakes +baked." + +"Miss Faith, when do you mean to shew me the shore?" said Mr. Linden +turning round. + +"You have been so busy all the week," said Faith,--"and then you didn't +speak of it, Mr. Linden--I can go any time." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Derrick, "there comes Squire Deacon. Maybe he'll +stay to supper. I'll go and put on another cup." + +Mr. Linden gave one glance at the opening gate, and followed Mrs. +Derrick into the house. + +"Miss Faith," said the Squire, "do you think the night dews conducive +to--to your comfort?" + +"When they are falling," said Faith abstractedly. "Why not, Mr. Deacon?" + +"To be sure!" said the Squire gallantly,--"honeysuckles and such things +do. But what I mean is this. Cilly's goin' to get up a great shore +party to-morrow, and she says she couldn't touch a mouthful down there +if you didn't go. And like enough some other folks couldn't neither." + +"Mother's gone in to tea. Will you come in and ask her, Squire?" + +"Couldn't stay, Miss Faith--Cilly's lookin' out for me now. But you can +tell--your mother'll go if you do,--or you can go if she don't, you and +Miss Danforth. It's good for you now, Miss Faith,--the saline breezes +are so very--different," said the Squire. + +"When are you going, Mr. Deacon?" + +"Soon as we can tackle up after dinner, Cilly thought. But fix your own +time, Miss Faith--I'll call for you any hour of the twenty-six." + +Faith hesitated, and pulled a leaf or two from the honeysuckle; then +she spoke boldly. + +"But you forget we have a gentleman here, Squire;--we can't go without +Mr. Linden." + +"I don't want his help to drive my horse," said the Squire, with a +little change of tone,--"but whoever hinders his going, _I_ don't. The +shore's wide, Miss Faith,--it don't matter how many gets onto it. +There's no chance but he'll go if you ask him. Who wouldn't!" said the +Squire, relapsing into his former self. + +"We'll come down then some time in the course of the afternoon," said +Faith, "and see what you are doing." + +"Then I sha'n't drive you down, sha'n't I?" said Squire Deacon. "Never +mind--it's no matter,--come when you like, Miss Faith, we'll be glad to +see you, anyhow." And the Squire closed the little gate after him +energetically. + +"Cinderella is in despair, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden as Faith +entered the dining-room. "Miss Danforth--how could you keep Squire +Deacon so long, and then send him home to supper!" + +"It's all your fault, sir," said Miss Danforth cheerfully. "And I guess +the Squire has got his supper." + +"He must be a man of quick despatch," said Mr. Linden; while Faith +after a glance to see if her bannocks were right, made her announcement. + +"Mother, there's a shore party to-morrow." + +"Who's going, child?" + +"Squire Deacon and Cecilia--and I don't know who else--and he came to +ask us. Will you go and take tea with us at the shore, Mr. Linden?" + +"Does that mean that my tea is to be transported to the shore, and that +I am to go there to find it, Miss Faith?" + +"You have a very puzzling way of putting things," said Faith laughing, +though her look bore out her words. "I don't think it means that. +_Your_ tea won't be there before you are, Mr. Linden. Wouldn't you like +to go?" + +"The Squire says there is room enough on the shore," suggested Miss +Danforth. "I suppose he wants a good deal for himself, or he wouldn't +have thought of it." + +"Perhaps he thinks I want a good deal," said Mr. Linden. "Well--in +consideration of the width of the shore, I think I will go. Is not that +your advice, Miss Faith? What are the pros and cons,--if you were to +state them fairly?" + +"Well," said Faith, "you will have a pleasant ride, or walk, +down--whichever you like;--_I_ think it is very pleasant. You can go in +the water, if you like, which everybody does; there's a beautiful +shore; and I suppose that would be pleasant. You'll see all that is +pretty about the place while the people are digging clams and preparing +supper; and then you'll have supper; and then we shall come home; and I +think it is all pleasant, except that there will be too many people. I +like it best with just a few." + +"As if we were to go down there to-night in the moonlight.--Now Miss +Faith--what is the other side?" + +"Just that--the too many people. There isn't a chance to enjoy anything +quietly. I can enjoy the people too, sometimes, but not the other +things at the same time so well. Perhaps you can, Mr. Linden." + +"I can sometimes enjoy the other things at the same time--better." + +Faith again looked a little puzzled, but answered with a simple + +"Then I dare say you will like it." + +"What I am puzzled about," said he smiling, "is, how you are to shew me +the shore. Miss Danforth--why is that bread-plate so attractive to me, +while I am like the reverse end of the magnet to it?" + +"But my dear," said Mrs. Derrick, for the bread-plate was +suggestive,--"ain't you going along with the Squire's party?" + +"I said we would come after, mother." + +"The Squire only said there was room on the shore," added Miss Danforth. + +"Is the shore wide enough for us to drive down there? or must we walk?" +asked Mr. Linden. + +"But you'll eat supper with them, of course," said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Of course, mother. The wagon must go, Mr. Linden. There's room enough +for anything." + +Mr. Linden made no comment upon that, and finished his tea in +comparative silence. Then went forth, as was his custom, to the +post-office, and--as was not his custom--returned very soon. Mrs. +Derrick and Miss Danforth had gone out to see a neighbour, and Faith +sat alone in the twilight parlour. It was very twilight there, but he +walked in and stood waiting for his eyes to discover what there might +be. + +"There is nobody here but me, Mr. Linden," said a very soft and clear +voice. "Do you want anything?" + +"I wanted to see you--and am foiled by the darkness. Are you tired, +Miss Faith?" + +"Never. I wasn't sitting in the dark for that." + +"Would you object to coming into the light?" + +"Not at all," said Faith laughing. "Which way?" + +"There is to be a fine illumination to-night, which I should like to +have you see." + +"An illumination! Where is it? Shall I want my bonnet?" + +"You will be better illuminated without it,--but you may perhaps take +cold." + +"How do you make your scholars understand you?" said Faith. "I am sure +I must need illuminating.--So much, that I had better leave my bonnet, +Mr. Linden?" + +"I think you may--if you will take some light substitute. Why my +scholars _are_ my scholars, Miss Faith." + +"What then?" said Faith stopping short. + +"Why then I am their teacher." + +"I half wish I was a scholar too," said Faith with a tone which filled +up the other 'half'--"I don't know much, Mr. Linden." + +"About illuminations? I will promise you some light upon that point." + +With which encouragement, Faith fetched the scarf which was to do duty +for a bonnet if desired, and they set out. + +"Now Miss Faith," said her companion as he closed the gate, "if you +will shew me the road, I will shew you the shore.--Which will not at +all interfere with your shewing it to me to-morrow." + +"The shore!" said Faith. "To-night? Are you in earnest?" + +"Very much in earnest. You prefer some other road?" + +"No indeed--it's beautiful, and I like it very much. Cindy," she said +to that damsel whom they opportunely passed at the entrance of the +lane--"you tell my mother I am gone to take a walk." And so they passed +on. + +The way was down a lane breaking from the high road of the village, +just by Mrs. Derrick's house. It was a quiet country lane; passing +between fields of grass or grain, with few trees near at hand. Here and +there a house, small and unnotable like the trees. Over all the country +the moon, near full though not high, threw a gentle light; revealing to +the fancy a less picturesque landscape than the sun would have shewn; +for there were no strong lines or points to be made more striking by +her partial touches, and its greatest beauty lay in the details which +she could not light up. The soft and rich colours of grain and grass, +the waving tints of broken ground and hillside, were lost now; the +flowers in the hedges had shrunk into obscurity; the thrifty and +well-to-do order of every field and haystack, could hardly be noted +even by one who knew it was there. Only the white soft glimmer on a +wide pleasant land; the faint lighting of one side of trees and fences, +the broader salutation to a house-front, and the deeper shadow which +sometimes told of a piece of woodland or a slight hilly elevation. + +Then all that was passed; and the road descended a little steep to +where it crossed, by a wooden bridge, a small stream or bed of a creek. +Here the moon, now getting up in the sky, did greater execution; the +little winding piece of water glittered in silver patches, and its +sedgy borders were softly touched out; with the darker outlines of two +or three fishing-boats. + +And so on, towards the shore. Now the salt smell met and mingled with +the perfume of woods and flowers, and the road grew more and more +sandy. But still the fields waved with Indian-corn, were sweet with +hay, or furrowed with potatoes. Then the outlines of sundry frame +bathing-houses appeared in the distance, and near them the road came to +an end. + +The shore was improved by the moonlight,--its great rocks, slippery +with sea-weed, glittered with a wet sheen. The Sound wore its diamonds +royally, and each tiny wave broke in a jewelled light upon the sand. +Far in the distance the dim shore of Long Island lay like a black line +upon the water; and sloops and schooners sailed softly on their course, +or tacked across the rippling waves, a fleet of "Black spirits and +white." + +"What do you think of the illumination, Miss Faith?" said her +companion, when they had sat still for five minutes. + +"What do you think of it, I think I should say. Mr. Linden, I have +shewed you the shore!" + +"You!"-- + +"Who else? + +"Were you ever here before by moonlight?" + +"I don't know--No, I think not. Were you ever here before at all?" + +"Is it owing to you that I am here now?" + +"You couldn't have got here without me," said Faith, stooping to turn +over some of the glittering pebbles at her feet;--"and I couldn't have +got here without you. I am willing to allow that we are square, Mr. +Linden. I must!--for you will turn a corner faster than I can catch +you." + +"If you really suppose that first proposition to be true," said Mr. +Linden raising his eyebrows, "why of course there is no more to be +said. Miss Faith, how would you like to be sailing about in one of +those phantom ships?" + +"I should like it very well," said Faith, "in a good time. I went to +Pequot in one once. It was very pleasant. Why do you call them +phantoms?" + +"Look at that one standing off across the moonlight towards the other +shore,--gliding along so silently with her black sails all set,--does +she look real?--You cannot even hear the creaking of a rope." + +Faith looked, and drew an interrupted deep breath. She had lived in a +world of realities. Perhaps this was the first 'phantom' that had ever +suggested itself--or been suggested--to her imagination. Possibly +something of the same thought crossed her mind; for she drew her breath +again a little short as she spoke. + +"Yes!--it's beautiful!--But I live in such a different world, Mr. +Linden,--I never thought of such a thing before." + +He smiled--pleasantly and thoughtfully. "How came you to see the +sunrise colours the other day, Miss Faith?" + +"O I see them always. And that puts me in mind of something I have been +wanting to say to you every day all the week! and I could never find a +chance. You asked me that morning, Mr. Linden, if I was _true to my +name, finding enough in a cloudy sky_. What did you mean? What did you +mean by being true to my name'?" + +"I shall have to use your name a little freely, to tell you," he said. +"It is faith's privilege to be independent of circumstances. Faith +always finds something wherein to rejoice. If the sky be clear, + + 'Far into distant worlds she pries, + And brings eternal glories near.' + +If cloudy, faith uses her glass as a prism, and in one little ray of +light finds all the colours of the rainbow." + +"I don't know what a prism is," said Faith somewhat sadly. + +"A prism, in strictness, is a piece of glass cut in a particular way, +so that the colourless sunbeams which pass through it are divided into +their many-coloured members. But other things act as prisms,--the +rain-drops in a shower--the lustres upon your church chandelier. You +have seen the colours there?" + +"Well, how do they do that?" + +"I must take some other time to tell you,--it would be too long a +matter to-night. And I doubt whether you ought to sit here any longer." + +"But _this_ Faith don't do as you say," she said, as she slowly and +rather unwillingly rose from her seat. "And I don't understand how any +faith can." + +"This Faith must study the Bible then, and do what _that_ says." The +tone was encouraging though the voice was grave. + +He was not answered; and the homeward walk was begun. But Faith stopped +and turned again to look before she had gone three paces. + +"I am in no hurry," Mr. Linden said,--"take your own time--only do not +take cold." + +Faith turned away silently again, and began trudging along the sandy +road which led back to the lane. The moonlight shewed the way better +now. Passing on, as they neared home one house after another shewed its +glimmer of light and gave forth its cheerful sound of voices. From one, +however, the sound was _not_ cheerful. It was Squire Deacon's. + +"Well, you'll see to-morrow, Cilly--if the sky don't fall,--you'll see. +Folks thinks the water down to the shore's mighty deep--'way over their +heads--till they've made its acquaintance; and then they find out they +can wade round in it 'most anywheres."-- + +"What's the matter with the Squire?" said Faith with a slight laugh, as +these strange statements reached her ears. + +"I should think--to use his own phraseology--he must be 'over his head' +somewhere," replied Mr. Linden. + +Whereat Faith's laugh deepened, but the low sweet tone of it only +sounded an instant. + +"My dear!" said Mrs. Derrick, running out as they entered the gate, +"ain't you very imprudent? Wasn't she very imprudent, Mr. Linden?" + +"Very prudent, ma'am, for she wore a shawl." + +"And didn't want that, mother," said Faith. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + +The illumination lasted through the night--until + + "Night's candles were burnt out, and jocund day + Stood tip-toe on the misty mountain tops." + + +Very jocund she looked, with her light pink veils wreathing about the +horizon, and the dancing white clouds which hurried up as the sun rose, +driven by a fresh wind. Mr. Linden declared, when he came in to +breakfast, that the day promised to equal the preceding night. + +"And whoever wants more," he added, "must wait; for I think it will not +surpass it." + +With which, Mr. Linden stirred his coffee, and told Miss Danforth with +a little look of defiance, "it was particularly good--she had better +try a cup." + +Miss Danforth instituted a fierce inquiry as to the direction of the +preceding evening's walk; to which Faith gave an unsatisfactory answer. + +"Did you ever look at coffee in connexion with the fatigues of life?" +pursued Mr. Linden. + +"I shall, probably, in future," said Miss Danforth. "Now Mr. Linden, I +ask you; you're a nice man to give a straight answer;--where did you +and Faith go?" + +"I am glad I am a nice man," said Mr. Linden, "but I can scarce give a +straight answer to that question." + +"Why not, for pity's sake?" + +"It must needs travel a crooked road." + +"Did you?" + +"It has left a meandering sort of recollection in my mind." + +"Where did it lead to?" + +"It led to another." + +"What I want to know is," said Miss Danforth, "where did you find +yourselves when you were furthest from home." + +"Let me shew you," said he. "Suppose your plate to be a rock, and this +tumbler of radishes a tree, and the table-cloth grass,--the moon over +your head, crickets under your feet. Miss Faith walks round the rock, I +follow her,--and we both follow the road. On the way, the still night +air is enlivened with owls, grasshoppers, family secrets. Our attention +is thus divided between the moon and sublunary affairs. Miss +Faith--what shall I give you?" + +Miss Danforth's curiosity seemed for once willing to be satisfied with +fun; and Faith's hunger was in the same predicament. + +"But child," said Mrs. Derrick, who had bent her attention upon the +diagram at the other end of the table, "I don't recollect any such +place!" + +"Mother!" said Faith,--and her gravity gave way hopelessly. + +"Squire Deacon sends his best compliments of the season," said Cindy +opening the door a while later, "and he says they'll be to take supper +precisely at four. I'm free to confess he don't look much sweeter than +common," added Cindy. + +"Pray Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden as they left the table, "what is the +precise depth of water down at the shore?" + +Faith had very near broke down again, for she laughed and blushed, a +good deal more than her wont; and at last replied that "it depended on +how far people went in--she never went very far herself." + +"I was naturally curious," said he. + +After a dinner somewhat more hasty than usual, Mr. Linden and two of +the ladies set off for the shore. The blackberry jam, or some other +hindering cause, kept Mrs. Derrick at home. + +The country by daylight looked rich and smooth. At not a very great +distance a slight hilly elevation bounded the horizon line, which +nearer seen would have been found bristling with stern grey rock, +itself a ridge of rock, one of the ribs of the rigid soil. But where +the lane led down to the water, fair fields and crops extended on every +side, spotted very picturesquely with clumps of woodland. All looked +genial in the summer light. If the distant rocks spoke a stubborn soil, +the fine growth between said that man had overcome it; and the fine +order everywhere apparent said too that the victory had been effectual +for man's comfort and prosperity. The stone walls, in some places thin +and open, told of times when they had been hurriedly put up; moss on +the rail fences said the rails had been long doing duty; within them no +fields failed of their crops, and no crops wanted hoeing or weeding. No +straw lay scattered about the ricks; no barrack roofs were tumbling +down; no gate-posts stood sideways; no barnyards shewed rickety +outhouses or desolate mangers. No cattle were poor, and seemingly, no +people. It was a pretty ride the party had, in the little wagon, behind +an old horse that knew every inch of the way and trotted on as if he +were a part of it. + +"How do you like Pattaquasset, Mr. Linden?" said Faith, leaning forward +to reach him where he sat alone on the front seat. + +"I like it--well," he answered a little musingly. + +They came to the bridge and stream; and now they could see that Awasee +River did not fill its sometime channel, but flowed in a bottom of +alluvial soil, rich in bright-coloured marsh grass, which stretched up +the country between two of those clumps of woodland they had seen from +a distance. A little further on, just where the sandy road branched off +to the shore, there stood a farm house, with a conglomerate of barns +and outhouses, all painted to match, in bright yellow picked out with +red. + +"Do you see that settlement of farm-houses?" said Faith, leaning +forward again,--"of all sizes, in uniform?" + +"Is it the fashion here to put 'earmarks' on buildings?" he answered +with a smile. + +"Mr. Linden! You should ask Mr. Simlins that. I see his wagon +there--he'll be down at the shore very likely. He's a character. He +lives a mile and a half further on, just where the road turns off to +Mrs. Somers'." + +"Simlins!" was the only reply. + +"He's a good sort of man, but he's funny." + +"What is a good sort of man, Miss Faith?" + +The old horse was walking quietly along the sandy road, and the smell +of the salt water was becoming pleasantly perceptible. + +"I suppose I mean by it," said Faith thoughtfully, "a man who is not +_very good_, but who is on the good side of things." + +"I don't call that a good sort," said Mr. Linden,--then looking round +with a little smile he said, "You ought to say 'sort o' good.'" + +Faith looked serious and as if she felt half rebuked. + +"But," she said, "you would not call that a _bad_ sort?" + +"Then you mean that he is in the same road with what you call the +_best_ people, only not so far advanced?" + +"No," said Faith doubtfully, "I don't mean so much as that.--I don't +think Mr. Simlins is in the same road with you." + +"How many best roads are there to the same place? As for instance--does +it matter which of these two I take to the shore?" + +"Only one leads to the shore," said Faith. + +"Yet they seem to lie near together at the outset. The same is true of +the 'other shore.'" + +Faith sat back in her place with a face exceedingly unlike a young lady +who was going to a merry-making. + +But they were near the shore now; not only the salt smell proclaimed +it, but they could see the various bathing and other houses collected +at the place, and the flag which floated high from the flag-staff, +telling all who were not concerned that it was a gala day. A piece of +ground immediately surrounding these buildings was fenced in; as they +neared the gate, it was opened for them, and a tall farmer-looking man, +whose straw hat shaded a sensible face, nodded as they passed. + +"That is Mr. Simlins!" said Faith. + +Mr. Simlins seemed for the present to be king of the castle. Horses +there were, and wagons, standing here and there, and one or two oldish +faces looked out from the windows of one long shanty; but the rest of +the birds had flown--into the water! It was the time of low tide, and +the long strips of rippling water which lay one beyond the other, were +separated by sand banks nearly as long. In these little tide lakes were +the bathers,--the more timid near shore, taking almost a sand bath; the +more adventurous going further and further out, till the last party +bathed beyond the last sand bank. Not dressed in the latest Cape May +fashion, nor the latest fashion of any kind; for each had brought some +dress too old to be hurt with salt water. Calico frocks, of every hue +and pattern,--caps, hand kerchiefs, sun-bonnets,--gave additional force +to the cries and shouts and screams which were wafted inshore. + +But when they began to come in!--and when the bathing dresses were hung +on the fence to dry!--and when mermaid visions appeared at the +windows!--who shall describe the scene then? Over all, a blue smoke now +began to curl and float, rising from the stove-pipe of the eating-house. + +Mr. Linden had driven up to one of the fence posts, and fastening his +horse stood a while watching the show, till the bathers began to draw +in from the water. Then helped the ladies out. + +"Which of these baskets contains my tea, Miss Faith?" he said. "I feel +a particular interest in that basket." + +"Perhaps your tea is in some other basket," said Faith; "but both of +these must come into the eating-house. O, thank you, Mr. Linden!" + +The eating-house was a long shanty, built for the express purpose of +feasting picnic and other parties. At one end of it, within the house, +was a well of excellent water; at the other end a door opened into a +cooking-house, which held a stove; and through the length of the +apartment a narrow table of boards was erected, ready to be covered +with any description and any succession of table-cloths. In this room +Mr. Linden with Faith's help deposited her baskets; while Miss Danforth +looked on. At the door of the shanty coming out they met Mr. Simlins. +Faith made the introductions. + +"Happy to have your acquaintance," said Mr. Simlins. "This is a piece +of Pattaquasset, sir, that we all of us rather cord'ally like. You +haven't seen it before?" + +"Yes, I don't wonder you like it," said Mr. Linden. "The sea-shore is +no novelty to me, sir--such a shore party is." + +"I hope you'll enjoy it, as the rest of us do. We all do as we like, +Mr. Linden--I hope you'll use the grounds as your own. We have the flag +flying, sir, and it ratifies liberty to all who amuse themselves under +it." + +Mr. Linden looked up at the stars and stripes, with an acknowledging +smile for the benefits thereby conferred. + +"Faith! Faith Derrick!" called out half a dozen mermaids from the +bathing house; and Faith was obliged to go,--while her companions +walked up the green slope, and entered into a deep discussion of the +crops and the weather. + +A while after, when Faith was busy about the supper table--twenty young +voices chiming around her, another voice that she did not know spoke +close at her elbow. + +"Miss Faith--I am Reuben Taylor. Mr. Linden told me to come to you and +make myself useful. Is there any thing I can do?--would you like some +round clams?--Father's out there in the boat." + +The earnest eyes said how gladly he would do 'any thing.' + +"Who is your father?" said Faith, a little surprised. + +"My father's a fisherman." + +"The very thing!" said Faith--"if you'll help me roast 'em, Reuben. I +guess nobody else'll want to do it, but I'd just as lieve. Can you have +'em here quickly? and I'll see and have the stove ready." + +"O I'll fetch 'em--and roast 'em too, Miss Faith. I'm used to it," he +added, with a half bashful half admiring glance at her face. + +Faith had the fire ready by the time Reuben returned with the clams. +The kettle was on to boil, and nothing else was wanted of the fire, as +it happened, by anybody; least of all to roast clams, that necessarily +making a kitchen prisoner of the roaster; so Faith and her new +coadjutor had the field--i.e. the cooking house--all to themselves. +Miss Danforth was to leave Pattaquasset in a day or two, and was busy +talking to everybody. Readily the clams opened their shells on the hot +stove-top; savourily the odour of steaming clam juice spread itself +abroad; but Faith and Reuben were 'in' for it, and nobody else cared to +be in. + +So when Miss Cecilia Deacon had finished her toilet, which was somewhat +of the longest, as it had been one of the latest, she found nobody but +her brother to apply to on the score of her hostess duties. + +"Sam!" said the young lady pinching her brother's arm,--"I haven't been +introduced to Mr. Linden." + +"He'll keep," was the encouraging reply. + +"Yes, but supper won't. See, Sam!--I haven't been introduced to him, +and I _must_." + +The Squire nodded his head politely, and began to whistle. + +"Come!--you Sam--you've got to, and in a hurry. I can't find Faith, or +I'd make her." + +"Well--I can't find him," said the Squire pettishly. "I haven't got +neither of 'em in my pocket--nor the crown of my hat," he added, taking +off that useful article of dress for the express purpose of looking +into it. "My deliberate judgment is to have supper." + +"Don't be a goose, Sam! What's the use of asking him, if you didn't +mean to conduct yourself?" + +"Didn't ask him." + +"Who did?" + +"_I_ didn't hear anybody," was the Squire's reply. + +"_Don't_ you mean to introduce me, Sam Deacon?" said his sister in a +tone which was rather over the verge of patience. + +"Jem Williams!" said the Squire, calling up a spruce embodiment of blue +cloth, brass buttons, and pink cravat,--"I say! here's Cilly off the +hooks to get hold of the new teacher. Whereabouts do you s'pose he is?" + +"Really Squire!" said Jem Williams, with a silly little laugh, "I +couldn't testify! Reckon he knows Miss Cilly 'd keep hold on him _ef_ +she got a chance!" + +"Sha'n't speak to you in a month, Jem!" said the lady with a toss of +her head and some heightening of the really pretty colour in her +cheeks. "You may fix it as you've a mind to, among you, and let anybody +that likes bring him in to supper! _I'm_ going in, out of the way, +myself." + +Whither she went, on the spur, as good as her word; nor shewed her +pretty face again outside. + +Meanwhile Reuben and Faith had worked on through their basket of clams, +and now the last were sputtering on the stove. The work had been done +almost in silence, for though the excitement now and then made Reuben +break into a low whistle of some tune or other, he always checked +himself the next moment with a very apologetic look. For the rest, if +he had not done all the work himself, it certainly was not his fault. +Now, watching quietly the opening shells of that last dozen of clams, +Reuben remarked, + +"I _hope_ Mr. Linden won't forget about supper!" + +"Why what about it?" said Faith. "Why should he forget? or what if he +does?" + +The last sentence seemed to puzzle Reuben. + +"I don't know, ma'am," he said,--"it's better before everybody eats it +up." + +"Who's going to eat it up?" said Faith. "Where is he?" + +"He went down on the sands with me," said Reuben, "but he didn't come +up again. Maybe he has now. He liked it down there, real well." + +Faith went to the shutter window and flung it open, and looked to see +whether or no the missing gentleman had returned to the shore. It was a +fair view that lay spread before her. The low beams of the sun gave a +cool afternoon look to everything; the sloop sails shone and gleamed in +the distance; down by the muscle rocks one little boat lay rocking on +the advancing tide, which was fast covering the sand banks and +connecting the strips of water; and the freshening breeze curled the +little waves as they came dancing in, and brought a low sweet murmur to +the shore. One or two gulls sailed floatingly about, and a brown +mink--perceiving that the company had retreated to higher ground--came +out and aired himself on one of the rocks. + +But Faith saw none of these things,--for in swinging open her shutter +(which the wind caught and clapped up against the house) she so nearly +swung it against Mr. Linden that her first look was a startled one. + +"Miss Faith!" he said, turning round, "what can you possibly be about!" + +"I beg your pardon, Mr. Linden!"--said Faith. + +"Is that all you are about?" + +"You were anxious about your supper, Mr. Linden--Are you ready for it?" + +"Much more ready than anxious, Miss Faith." + +"How do you like the shore to-day?" said Faith, dropping her voice, and +giving a glance of her eye to the fair, cool sunlight colours on the +water and shore and shipping--fresh as the very sea-breeze itself, and +glittering as the water's thousand mirrors could make them. + +He turned and looked again, drawing in the breeze with a deep breath +that more than answered her question. + +"How do you like this?" he said, handing her through the window a +little miniature tree of red sea-weed. Then, while she examined it, he +repeated,-- + + "'When descends on the Atlantic + The gigantic + Storm-wind of the equinox, + Landward in his wrath he scourges + The toiling surges, + Laden with sea-weed from the rocks; + + "'From Bermuda's reefs; from edges + Of sunken ledges, + In some far-off, bright Azore; + From Bahama, and the dashing, + Silver-flashing + Surges of San Salvador; + + "'From the tumbling surf that buries + The Orkneyan skerries, + Answering the hoarse Hebrides; + And from wrecks of ships, and drifting + Spars, uplifting + On the desolate, rainy seas;-- + + "'Ever drifting, drifting, drifting + On the shifting + Currents of the restless main; + Till in shelter d coves, and reaches + Of sandy beaches, + All have found repose again.'" + + +Faith's eye was upon the sprig of sea-weed while these verses were +repeating,--then she looked up at the speaker with an intenseness in +which oddly mingled some strong feeling of sorrow or regret. + +"It's beautiful!"--she said,--"beautiful!--both the one and the other. +But there are a great many things there I don't understand,"--she added +once more with a smile. "If there was time--but there isn't.--Mr. +Linden, Reuben and I have been roasting clams." + +"Yes, Miss Faith," he said answering the smile and stepping nearer the +window. "So one of my senses informed me. Do you know what that is in +your hand?" + +"It's sea-weed, isn't it?" + +"Yes. And moreover--Miss Faith, that is part of your marine Flora. Now +what about the clams?" + +"My _what?_" said Faith. "First tell me, please, what you said." + +"Your marine Flora." + +"What is that?" + +"The particular department of life in the sea, of which this is a +specimen." + +Faith looked puzzled, and amused. + +"You don't mean to enlighten me more than you can help," she said. "But +why do you call it Flora? you used that word before. And oh Mr. +Linden--You can't tell me now, for supper's all ready." + +His eyes looked amused too, and laying a clover head on the window, he +said, + +"That is part of your land Flora,"--then pushed the shutter to rather +quick, but softly; and Faith heard the reason thereof as follows. + +"Wal sir--ef this be you, I've looked all over for you." + +"How was it that you overlooked me then, sir?" was Mr. Linden's reply. + +"Don't jes know," laughed Jem Williams,--"but Miss Cilly Deacon wants +you the worst kind." + +"And where shall I go to receive her commands?" said Mr. Linden. + +Faith heard their retreating steps, and turning to take off her apron +saw the dish of hot clams still on the stove, and that Reuben had +removed himself outside the door, quite beyond the conversation but not +beyond call. He stood looking thoughtfully out towards the muscle rocks. + +"Oh Reuben! there you are. Come!" said Faith; "you're going in with me. +_You_'re going to have some supper to-night, whoever else does. You +open the door, and I'll take in this dish. You keep by me, Reuben." + +"Please let me take the dish, then, Miss Faith,--I can open the door +first." + +But Faith had her own way, and followed by Reuben carried the clams +into the supper room, where some of the company were already seated, +and others stood waiting. Squire Deacon had not only given the desired +introduction, but had (self-denyingly) placed Mr. Linden next Miss +Cilly at the table,--where he stood. + +"Here's a contribution," said Faith,--"if somebody 'll make a place for +it. Thank you, Mr. Deacon. Now Reuben,--come here." + +And refusing more than one offer of a place at the table, Faith made +her way down to the 'well end' where there was room for two--at a +remote distance from the tea and coffee. + +What else was there not, upon that table! + +"Won't you take a seat, Mr. Linden?" said Miss Cecilia. "I hope you've +got room there. Jerushy, can't you shove down a little? I hope my +coffee-pot's not disagreeable." + +"I hope not!" said Mr. Linden, surveying the coffee-pot. "How long does +it take to declare itself, Miss Deacon?" + +"O it won't do anything, but spout coffee," said the young lady,--"if +you don't mind that. Won't you be helped to what you like, Mr. Linden? +I hope you have enjoyed our shore party this afternoon." + +"Thank you"--said Mr. Linden, feeling perhaps that it was not _their_ +party he had enjoyed,--"there has been a combination of pleasant +things. As far as I could judge the bathers enjoyed their particular +expedition." + +"O yes, it was delightful--invigorating. Mr. Simlins, I think Mr. +Linden will like a piece of that cherry-pie with his clams. Do you take +cheese, Mr. Linden? Is your coffee agreeable? There is the cold tongue +by you, Jerushy.--I hope you like Pattaquasset." + +"Ask Mr Linden whether Pattaquasset ain't a good place for handsome +gals," said Mr. Simlins, as he handed over the piece of cherry-pie. "He +knows by this time. I say there's a con-catenation of beauty now here +this afternoon. If you look from the top to the bottom of the table, +now, ain't it true, sir?" + +Mr. Linden certainly looked from the top to the bottom of the table, +and then setting the plate of cherry-pie as far from his clams as he +could, he said, + +"Miss Deacon--let me help you,--tell me where these cups belong, and I +will convey them to their destination." + +"I thought they'd shove down somehow," said the young lady. "Jerushy, +_do_ pass the coffee! They're for anybody down there who'll take +coffee. Tea'll be along presently," added Miss Cecilia, raising her +voice a little to give the information. "Don't you trouble yourself, +Mr. Linden." + +But Mr. Linden secured one, and carrying it down to Faith, requested +her to stir it and taste it, and not give him the trouble of coming +back with the sugar-bowl. + +"What will you have?" he said while she obeyed his directions. "Here +are all the pies that can be thought of except the musical one recorded +in history." + +"And so," said Faith with a laughing flash of her usually soft eye, +"you immediately give me a desire for the one not here! It's like you, +Mr. Linden. No, thank you--I'll have none of these. I believe Reuben +has a desire for some of the clams he and I have roasted." + +"I'm afraid I cannot get them away from Squire Deacon!" he said, "but +I'll try." + +The Squire however held fast to the dish, and rising from his place +midway at the table, insisted upon taking it to Faith himself. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "you have ruined my supper by sitting down here. +My appetite has quite forsaken me," (whereupon Jem Williams observed, +"that warn't strange.")--"and the worst is," added the Squire, "I can't +maintain the constant supervision of your plate which my feelings +prompt. I am too far off"--he concluded in a melancholy tone. + +"I say, Squire!" said Jem Williams, "you bain't _mor_'n as far agin as +_he_"--with a nod towards the upper end of the table. + +Squire Deacon lowered, but for the present his feelings were restrained. + +"Mr. Simlins," said Endecott, when he had resumed his seat, "I ask +you--as one who knows the country--whereabouts does the concatenation +you spoke of reach a climax?" + +"The star you look at is always the brightest," said the farmer. +"However, I think the clams is the best thing at table--or _near_ the +best," with a slight glance towards Squire Deacon and the dish at the +'well end.'"I've a legendary attachment to beauty, sir; my father +married the three prettiest wives in the country." + +"I say, Squire," said Jem Williams, "Mr. Simlins says you'r' hot." + +"Hot?" said Squire Deacon, flushing up very much, and setting down the +clams,--"that dish is. _I_'m as cool as all these cucumbers accumulated +into a heap." + +"Hope you'll stay where you are, then," said Mr. Simlins. "I'm cool +too. Don't come near me, or we shall be in a state of concentration." + +Mr. Linden remarked that that was an excellent point when reached. + +"What point?" said Squire Deacon, who had returned to his seat with the +strong impression that everybody was laughing at him, under the special +guidance of the new teacher. "You know mighty little of the points +round here, I tell _you_." + +"The point of concentration is found in various places, sir," said Mr. +Linden: "though I grant you it is rare." + +"What do you know about Pattaquasset points?" repeated the Squire,--"or +Pattaquasset people--or Pattaquasset water either, for that matter? +Just you go down here when the tide's in--and afore you know where you +are you'll find yourself wading round over your head." + +"No sir--never," said Mr. Linden with great assurance. + +"Why not? how're you goin' to help it?" said Squire Deacon. + +"When I reach _that_ point," said Mr. Linden, "I shall swim." + +And Faith heard Reuben Taylor's smothered laugh of great gratification. + +"Hope you haven't spoiled your own supper, Squire," said Mr. Simlins, +"by your complacency in carrying about them hot clams. Have somethin' +this way?" + +While this question was getting its answer, Faith sat back in her chair +and looked up and down the length of the table. It presented a +distinguished 'after-supper' view, but the demands of the company had +not yet ceased. Mr. Simlins was still discussing cheese and politics; +Jem Williams was deep in cherry pie; plum cake was not out of favour +with the ladies. The Squire was hard at work at _his_ supper, which had +been diversely and wickedly interrupted. He was making up for lost time +now; while his sister, much disengaged, was bending her questions and +smiles on Mr. Linden. Faith tried to see Mr. Linden, but she couldn't; +he was leaning back from the table; and her eyes went out of doors. It +was too fair and sweet there to be cooped up from it. The sun had just +set. Faith could not see the water; the windows of the eating house +looked landward; but the air which came in at them said where it had +come from, and breathed the salt freshness of the sea into her face. + +But presently every chair was pushed back. And now there was no more +silence nor quiet The busy swarm poured out of the supper room; the men +to lounge or tackle their horses, the women to gather up the bathing +dresses from the fence, to look round, laugh, and go in again to pack +up the dishes. It would seem that this last might be a work of time, +each had to find her own through such a maze of confusion. There was a +spoon of Miss Cecilia's providing, in a cup of Mrs. Derrick's, beside a +plate of Mrs. David's, and before a half-eaten cherry pie which had +been compounded in the distant home and by the fair fingers of Miss +Jerusha Fax. However, most people know their own at least; and as on +the present occasion nobody had any particular desire to meddle with +what was not her own, the difficulty was got through with. The baskets +and hampers were packed again and stowed in their respective wagons; +and everybody was bidding good bye to everybody. Noisy thanks and +praises fell liberally to the share of Miss Cecilia and her brother, +and the afternoon was declared to have been "splendid." + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + +For some weeks the little town of Pattaquasset held on its peaceful way +as usual. Early summer passed into harvest, and harvest gave way to the +first blush of autumn, and still the Mong flowed quietly along, and the +kildeers sang fearlessly. For even tenor and happy spirits, the new +teacher and his scholars were not unlike the smooth river and its +feathered visiters. Whatever the boys were taught, they certainly +learned to be happy; and Mr. Linden's popularity knew no bounds in his +own domain. Neither did it end there: those fair members of the +Pattaquasset society who thought early walks good for their health, +felt their sleepy eyes well paid for keeping open when they met Mr. +Linden. Those who were fond of evening expeditions, declared that his +figure in the twilight was 'quite a picture,' and made them feel 'so +safe,'--a great slander, by the way, on Pattaquasset. Mr. Simlins was +his firm friend, and many another--known and unknown. Squire Deacon, I +regret to say, was an exception. + +Squire Deacon declared (confidentially) that he never _had_ thought the +new teacher fit for his business, _no_ how. As far as he could hear, +Mr. Linden had never taught school before, and in that case what could +you expect? "Moreover," said the Squire, "I am creditably informed, +that the first day he kep' school _here_, he begun by asking the boys +who made them!--as if _that_ had anything to do with geography. Of +course it's nat'ral for a man to ask what he knows he can answer if the +boys don't," added Squire Deacon in the way of kind explanation. + +Whereupon, Jonathan Fax, the Squire's right hand man, requested to be +informed, "_why_ ef a man was poor didn't he dress as though he felt +so,--and _why_ ef he warn't rich did he act as though he war?" And thus +by degrees, there was quite an opposition party in Pattaquasset--if +that could be opposition which the object of it never opposed. By +degrees too, the murmurs became more audible. + +"Faith, child," said Mrs. Derrick in a cautions whisper, coining out +where Faith sat on the porch, bathed in the late September light: +"Faith, child, where's our Linden tree?" (Mrs. Derrick thought she had +concealed her meaning _now_, if anybody did overhear.) + +Faith started, more than so gentle a question seemed to call for. + +"He's gone down to the post-office, mother." + +Her mother stood still and thought. + +"Child," she said, "I never thought we had any fools in our town +before." + +"I didn't know there were so many," said Faith. "What new, mother?" + +"Child," she said, "you know more than I about some things--what do you +s'pose fools _can_ do? Isn't he a whole tree of knowledge?" + +"There is no fear of him, mother!" Faith said with a smile, which if +the subject of it valued any faith in the world but his own it would +have gratified him to see. "They can't touch him. They may vex him." + +Mrs. Derrick shook her head, softly, behind Faith's chair, then turned +and went back into the house; not caring, as it seemed, to spread the +vexation. Then after a little interval of bird music, the gate opened +to admit Reuben Taylor. He held a bunch of water lilies--drooping their +fair heads from his hand; his own head drooped a little too. Then he +raised it and came firmly on. + +"Is Mr. Linden home, Miss Faith?" + +"No, Reuben--He will be directly, I guess. Do you want to see him?" + +"No"--said Reuben, "I don' know as I do, more than usual. I _have_ seen +him all day. He wanted some pond lilies, Miss Faith--at least he told +me to bring 'em. Maybe it was you wanted 'em." + +"I'll give them to him, Reuben. What's the matter with _you?_" + +But Reuben stood silent--perhaps from the difficulty of speaking, + +"Miss Faith," he said at last, "is Squire Deacon all the trustees of +our school, besides Mr. Somers?" + +"No. Why? What about it?" + +"_He_'s doin' all the mischief he can," said Reuben concisely. + +"What mischief has he done, Reuben?" said Faith, waiting upon the boy's +answer with an anxious face. + +"Well"--said Reuben, as if he could not put it in plain words,--"he's +tryin' to turn folks heads--and some heads is easy turned." + +"How did you know this?--and whose head has he turned, Reuben? Not +yours?" + +"They'd have to turn my _heart_, Miss Faith," was Reuben's subdued +answer. Then he looked up and listened--hearing a step he well knew. +Nor that alone, for a few low notes of a sweet hymn tune, seemed to say +there were pleasant thoughts within reach of at least one person. Then +Reuben broke forth. + +"They can't keep him out of heaven, anyway!--nor me, neither," he added +softly. But he ran down the steps and out of the gate, passing his +teacher with only a bow; and once beyond the fence, Reuben's head +dropped in his hands. + +"Reuben! I want you!"--said Mr. Linden. But Reuben was out of sight. +Faith stood between the house and the gate. + +"Where is he? can't you make him hear? I want that boy!" she said. + +"I can run after him---- with doubtful success." + +"The foolish fellow brought these for you, Mr. Linden," said Faith, +giving the lilies where they belonged. + +"Complimentary, Miss Faith!" said Mr. Linden, taking the lilies and +smelling them gravely. + +"_He_ is," said Faith, "and you speak as if _I_ wasn't." + +"Will it redeem my character--or Reuben's--if I bestow the lilies upon +you, Miss Faith? I think that was their destination." + +Faith took the lilies back again, with a slight smile and flash, and +stood attentively turning them over for a while. Then suddenly said +"Thank you." + +"What did you want of Reuben Taylor?" said Mr. Linden. "Cannot I do as +well?" + +"I should be sorry to think you wanted, Mr. Linden, what I wanted to +give him." + +"That sounds terrific! But Reuben is under my jurisdiction--I don't +allow anybody to scold him but myself. So deliver it to me, Miss Faith, +and I will give it to him--duly pointed and sharpened up." + +"No," said Faith smiling, "you couldn't do it so well as I. I wanted to +say two words to him to put nonsense out of his head." + +"Nonsense!" said Mr. Linden, looking grave,--"I am as anxious on that +point as you can be. What nonsense has he got in his head?" + +Faith hesitated, flushed and paled a little, and looked at her lilies. + +"I don't know whether I ought to speak of it," she began, with much +less than her usual composure of speech. "Perhaps it is not my +business. Please forgive me if I speak wrong. But I half think you +ought to know it."-- + +"I'll try to bear the knowledge," he said smiling--"if you will promise +to speak the cabalistic two words that were to have such effect upon +Reuben. So you want to put nonsense into my head, Miss Faith?" + +"Perhaps you know it already?" said Faith. "At any rate I think I +should feel better satisfied if you did know it. Mr. Linden," she said +speaking low--"do you know that Squire Deacon has been trying to do you +mischief?" + +"Just suppose for a moment that you are one of my scholars, and give me +a definition of mischief." + +To judge by the unbent lines of Faith's brow, there was nothing very +disagreeable to her in the supposition. Yet she had a look of care for +the 'definition,' too. + +"When a man is meaning to do harm, isn't he doing mischief?" + +"Only to himself." + +"But do you mean that one _can't_ do harm to others in this world?" + +"You said 'when a man is _meaning_ to do harm.'" + +"Ah," said Faith laughing, "I should want a great deal of teaching +before I could give a definition that would suit you! Well then, isn't +_harm_ mischief?" + +"I'm afraid I must yield that point." + +"Then," said Faith simply, but very modestly,--"we come back to where +we started from?" + +"What shall we do there?" said he smiling. + +"Nothing, perhaps," said Faith with the same simplicity. "I only +thought it right to put you there, Mr. Linden." + +"Thank you, Miss Faith. Now will you please pronounce over me the two +words intended for Reuben?" + +Faith laughed a little, but then said gravely, "Mr. Linden, I should be +very sorry to think you needed them." + +"It's impossible always to avoid being very sorry: I _want_ them, at +all events. Haven't you just been putting nonsense into my head?" + +"Have I?" said Faith. + +"Do you suppose there was any there before?" + +"I--don't--think," said Faith, surveying his face,--"there is much +there now. I guess you don't need the two words, Mr. Linden. I was +going to tell Reuben he was a goose for thinking that that man could +hurt you." + +His face changed a little. + +"Poor Reuben!" he said--then with the former look--"On the whole, +perhaps it was well he did not come back. If you put those in water +they will open their eyes to-morrow. Fresh water--not salt," he added +as he followed her into the house,--"they are not part of the marine +Flora." + +Tea was ready, with its usual cheer of eatables and pleasant faces; not +quite with its usual flow of talk. Mrs. Derrick certainly had something +bewildering on her mind, for she even looked at her guest two or three +times when he was looking at her. The pond lilies were alone in the +twilight parlour. + +That was probably the reason why Lucinda introduced Parson Somers into +the tea-room, the parson happening to call at this identical time. + +Parson Somers was always in a genial state of mind;--always, at least, +whenever he came into Mrs. Derrick's parlour; by the testimony of +numbers it was the same in many other parlours. He came in so now; gave +a smile all round; and took an empty chair and place at the table like +one who found it pleasant. + +"Well, I declare, Mrs. Derrick," said Mr. Somers when he was +seated,--"I don't think there's--a--a more cheerful room in +Pattaquasset than this one; why, you always have everything agreeable +here. A cup of tea, now--I didn't expect it" + +"Why we always _do_ have tea, Mr. Somers," said Mrs. Derrick, "but it +don't seem strong to-night. Lucindy--take the teapot and make some +fresh." + +"These baked apples are strong--in numbers at least," said Mr. Linden, +as he bestowed one upon Mr. Somers. + +"Thank you!--it's all strong enough, Mrs. Derrick--thank you!--very +good. And Mr. Linden--how are you--a--getting along with your juvenile +charge? Confining work, sir,--isn't it?" + +"Rather, sir--to the body." + +"Not to the mind, eh? Well--I should have thought that to a gentleman +like you it would prove--a--_more_ deleterious to the mental faculties. +But I suppose you find yourself rewarded by your pupils' improvement +and--regard!" + +"Yes sir--their regard is very precious to me," was the quiet reply. + +"I should think so! Why there's that boy Reuben Taylor--strange father +that boy has--fisherman;--I met that boy this evening, in the street, +and he was crying,--down a little below here--he was going home. I +asked him--ha--if Mr. Linden had been dealing hardly with him?--and I +declare!--I didn't know but Reuben would have attacked me on the spot." + +"Has Mr. Linden a character in the village for cruelty?" said Faith. + +"I--I declare--not that I know of, Miss Faith. I should think it could +not be deserved. That boy's attachment is certainly--ha--very warm. My +dear Mrs. Derrick, how well Miss Faith is looking! She always looks +well; but to-night--ha--the colour of her cheeks is--to be remarked." + +"You will get a character for cruelty, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, +"if you ask about my character before my face." + +Faith looked up as if she would willingly have asked a question; but +that being in present circumstances impossible, she merely uttered a +quiet little 'no,' and went on with her tea and with a colour still +further improved, A quiet little 'yes,' of about equal prominence, did +not divert the attention of Mr. Somers from his own remarks. + +"It's delightful to see--really," said that gentleman. "But Mr. +Linden--ha--I am sorry to find that you haven't the good will of our +neighbour, Squire Deacon. The Squire's a valuable man--very!--the +Squire's a valuable man in the town. I am sorry. Do you know, Mr. +Linden--ha--how it has happened?" + +"Have you asked the Squire himself, sir?" said Mr. Linden. + +"Why--no, sir, I haven't. I--ha--wanted to get at the truth of it, that +I might, if possible, do something to heal the breach. Now you are +doing a valuable work in Pattaquasset, sir--I should be sorry to see it +interrupted--very--and I thought the best way would be to try to find +out what the matter was, in order if possible to its being removed. And +to get at the truth it is often best to hear both sides." + +"But I have no side to tell, sir," said Mr. Linden--smiling in spite of +himself. "I cannot deny that Squire Deacon seems to withhold his good +will--I think it is for him to tell his reasons." + +"Then you really have no idea what it can be about? and I may tell him +so? Because that would be a great point." + +"No sir, you may not tell him that." + +"Then you _have_ an idea what the matter is?" said Mr. Somers eagerly. +"Then, sir, if you will be so good as to let me know what it is--I have +no doubt--I entertain no doubt--we shall be able to smooth it all away, +and have peace." + +"You cannot prove one man's ideas by another man's," said Mr. Linden. + +"Then you can give me no help?" said Mr. Somers regretfully. "But Mr. +Linden--ha--it strikes me that it would be useful for me to know your +view of the cause of offence--whatever it is--before I know his. One +may correct the other." + +"There has been no offence given sir," said Mr. Linden. "That the +Squire has taken offence we both know,--why he has taken it--_if_ I +know--I have no right to tell you, Squire Deacon might justly complain +of me if I did. It is from no disrespect to you, believe me." + +"I say!" said Cindy coming into the room with a basket,--"here's Sam +Stoutenburgh been and fetched some Stoutenburgh Sweetenings--for his +teacher, he says. I'm free to confess," added Cindy as she set down the +basket by Mr. Linden, "he said if he _would_ like to do anythin' better +with 'em, it would just be to shy 'em at Squire Deacon's head--so I +guess they aint over and above ripe." + +"Ha!--Very pleasant, certainly!--very gratifying," said Mr. Somers +rising. "Mr. Linden--I have no more to say. You are a gentleman, sir, +and understand these matters. I will see what I can do. Mrs. Derrick--I +thank you for your tea, ma'am--I am sorry there should be anything +disagreeable,--but I have no doubt it will all be set right--The Squire +is a good-feeling man--I have no doubt of it. Miss Faith--ha!--why Mrs. +Derrick this colour is too deep, it isn't natural. It looks feverish!" + +"Do the Pattaquasset ladies use any rouge but their own sea breezes?" +asked Mr. Linden. + +"Ha! we _do_ get the sea breezes here--pleasantly," answered Mr. +Somers. "Good evening!"-- + +Mr. Linden accompanied the visiter to the little gate, and returning +paced up and down the moonlit porch, followed only by his shadow. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + +While Mr. Somers was enjoying his cup of unexpected tea at Mrs. +Derrick's, Squire Deacon and Miss Cilly had a sociable tete-a-tete over +theirs; for Joe Deacon, who was in the full enjoyment of some fourteen +years of boyhood, scarcely made a third in the conversation until his +appetite was satisfied. + +Conversation indeed hardly existed during the first portion of the +meal. Miss Cilly poured out her tea and broke her biscuit with a +certain prim sort of elegance which belonged to that young lady--as at +least she believed. But sipping tea and nibbling biscuit went on in +company with thoughts. + +"Sam, what are you bothering yourself about Mr. Linden for?" + +"How long since you was made a trustee?" said the Squire, beginning his +sentence with an untranslatable sort of grunt, and ending it in his +teacup. + +"Give us the sugar bowl down this way, Cilly," said Joe,--"this apple +sarce is as sour as sixty." + +"I've been your trustee ever since you was up to anything," said his +sister. "Come Sam--don't you begin now. What's made you so crusty?" + +"It aint the worst thing to be crusty," said the Squire, while Joe +started up and seized the sugar bowl. "Shews a man's more'n half baked, +any how." + +Miss Cilly vouchsafed a rather sour smile to these manifestations of +disposition on the part of both her brothers. + +"Well, what has he done?" + +"Sure enough," said the Squire, (he kept his small stock of big words +for company) "what _has_ he done? That's just what I can't find out." + +"What do you want to find out for? What ails him?" + +"Suppose he hasn't done nothing"--said the Squire,--"is that the sort +o' man to teach litteratur in Pattaquasset?" + +"Lit--_what?_" said his sister with an arch of her head. + +"Anything you've a mind to," said the Squire sulkily. + +"I wouldn't say anything against Mr. Linden's literature, if I was you; +because it's my belief, Sam, it'll stand any pecking you make at it. +What's given you such a spite at him? You're a goodnatured fellow +enough in general." + +"The whole temperature of Pattaquasset's come about since _he_ come," +replied the Squire comprehensively. + +"He's a gentleman!" said Miss Cilly bridling again. "He won't hurt +anybody's manners--not the best--if they was to copy him." + +"He didn't hurt mine," said Joe patronizingly. "To be sure I didn't go +to him long." + +"Do the boys like him, Joe?" + +"Well I daresay they wouldn't if they could help it," said Joe, "if +_that's_ any comfort. Some other folks likes him too,--besides Sam." + +"Aint he a good teacher?" + +"Firstrate--" said Joe, "taught me all _I_ ever learned. I didn't go +but four weeks, and Sam thought 'twarn't no use for me to hold on any +longer. My! Cilly--he'd make you roll up your eyes in arithmetic!" + +"Now Sam Deacon, what do you expect to do by all this fuss you're +making?" said his sister judicially. + +"What's the use of cross-examining a man at that rate?" said the Squire +restlessly. "When I do anything, you'll know it." + +"You'll make yourself a fool, one of these fine mornings; that's what I +count upon," said Miss Cecilia. "He's a match for you, I have a +presentiment, Sam." + +"He won't be for you," said the Squire with some heat. + +"There's Mr. Simlins goin' along," said Joe, who having finished his +supper was gazing out of the window. "O my! if he was cut up into real +simlinses, what a many there'd be!" + +"You hush, Joe!" said his sister wrathfully. "He's comin' in." + +And Mr. Simlins' tall figure did indeed come through the gate and up +the walk, from which a very few more steps and minutes brought him to +the tea table. + +"Well, Mr. Simlins!" said Miss Cecilia as she gave him his +cup,--"you've got back. I heard you were returned." + +"Yes!" said the farmer deliberately stirring his tea,--"I've got back! +And I'm glad, for one. I've been visiting my relations in New Jersey; +and I've made up _my_ mind that the Simlinses made a good move when +they come to Connecticut." + +"You found them all well?" said Miss Cecilia politely. + +"Well, no, I didn't," said Mr. Simlins. "How's a man to find five +hundred and fifty people all well? 'Taint nature. How's things with +you, Squire?" + +"Wheat's done well--corn middlin'," replied the Squire, while Joe got +behind his sister's chair and whispered, + +"There's another name in the diction'ry _sounds_ like your'n, though +they aint spelled just alike." + +"Goin' to school, Joe?" growled Mr. Simlins. + +"No _sir_," said Joe. "Mr. Linden teached me all he knowed in a +jiffy,--and all I know, too." + +"Well--are the other boys learnin' yet?" said Mr. Simlins, as he spread +a slice of bread pretty thick with butter. + +"S'pose so"--said Joe,--"all they kin." + +"It's hard work!" said Mr. Simlins. "I feel it now! Never ploughin' +made my back ache like learnin'. I wonder whatever they made me school +trustee for, seein' I hate it like pison. But s'pose we mustn't quarrel +with onerous duties," said the farmer, carrying on sighing and bread +and butter and tea very harmoniously together. "I shouldn't mind takin' +a look at your last copy-book, Joe, if it would be agreeable." + +"O Mr. Linden kep' that," said Joe unblushingly, "'cause it was so good +lookin'." + +"He was so fond of you?" said Mr. Simlins. "How come he to let you go?" + +"I staid away," said Joe, drumming on the back of Miss Cecilia's chair. +"Cilly's got the rest of the copy-books--she likes the writin' too." + +"Joe, behave yourself!" said his sister. "Mr. Simlins knows better than +to believe you." + +"Did you ever get flogged, Joe, for bad writin'?" said the farmer. + +"Worse'n that!" said Joe, shaking his head,--"I've had to do it over!" + +"Now you've got to do it over for me," said Mr. Simlins. "You write +your name for me there--the best you kin--and 'Pattaquasset, +Connecticut'--I want to see what the new school's up to." + +"No"--said Joe--"I aint agoin' to do it. You ask one of the other boys. +It wouldn't tell you nothin' if I did, 'cause I learned writin' +afore,--and I didn't go to him but four weeks, besides." And Joe at +once absented himself. + +"Is it workin' as straight with all the rest of 'em as it is with him?" +said Mr. Simlins. "You and me's got to see to it, you know, +Squire--seein' we're honorary individuals." + +"Yes," said Squire Deacon, rousing up now Joe was gone--he had a +wholesome fear of Joe's tongue--"Yes, Mr. Simlins,--and it's my belief +it _wants_ seein' to--and he too." + +"Joe,"--said Mr. Simlins. "Ne-ver fear--he'll see to himself." + +"Here's some of _his_ writin'," said Joe, returning with a spelling +book. "All the boys gets him to write in their books." And laying it +down by Mr. Simlins, Joe took his final departure. + +"What do the boys want him to write in their books for?" growled Mr. +Simlins, surveying the signature. + +"I believe," said Miss Cecilia, "he is very popular in the school." + +"Well, Squire," pursued Mr. Simlins, "can Joe clinch this?" + +"He aint with me--if that's what you mean," said Squire Deacon. "A +man's writing don't prove much." + +"Don't go no furder," said Mr. Simlins assentingly. "Well Squire--if +_you_'ll go furder I shall be wiser." + +And freed from the fear of contradiction, the Squire had not the least +objection to going further. + +"He's not the man to have here," said Squire Deacon,--"I saw that the +first day I saw him. I tried him,--and he didn't toe the mark." + +"How did you try him?" growled Mr. Simlins. "I'd like to know how much +he's up to. _I_ haint found it out yet." + +"I tried him, sir," said the Squire, "I tried him with a classical +story. Now Miss Faith gave in at once, and said _she_ didn't know what +it was; but t'other one made believe as though he knew all about it. +And if a man aint classical, Mr. Simlins, what is he?" + +"I aint classical," growled Mr. Simlins again, "but then I don't set up +for to be. I s'pose that makes a difference, Squire; don't it?" + +"Some people's more than they set out to be, and some people's less," +replied the Squire. + +"Well,--does _he_ set up for to be classical in school? What does he +teach 'em?" + +"I reckon he sets up for 'most everything he ever heard spoke of, Mr. +Simlins. Teach 'em? why he teaches 'em out of all sorts o' superflus +books!" + +"Does!" said Mr. Simlins with a surprised look. "Our boys don't want +none o' your superficies. They've got their bread to make. Give us an +invoice o' them books, Squire." + +"Just you look at 'em for yourself, Mr. Simlins--then you'll know. Step +down there some day in school time and look over the boys. Now I can +understand figurs with any man, but _what's_ the use o' crosses and +straight lines and Vs turned wrong side up?" + +Mr. Simlins pushed back his chair and rubbed his chin. + +"Well Squire--you and me are trustees--what in your judgment and +opinion had we ought to do, in these precedents?" + +"Get rid on him--_I_ say," replied the Squire promptly. "Then here he +is, leadin' all the girls round town, and for all any one of 'em knows +he's a married man." + +"Humph I think so?--What do the folks say of him?" said Mr. Simlins. +"There's Mrs. Derrick--what does _she_ say of him--he's in her house, +she ought to have an idee. And Faith--now I'd take that gal's judgment +on a most anything--What do _they_ think about him, Squire?" + +"Never asked 'em a word," said the Squire stoutly--"nor heard 'em say +one, neither. But he gets fur'n letters all the time, Widow Stamp +says--and female writin' too. Who knows but he's got a wife in some +fur'n country?--or two"--added the Squire, without specifying where the +plural belonged. "I'm a justice of peace, Mr. Simlins, and this +shouldn't be let go on." + +Mr. Simlins looked up from under his brows with a queer look at his +host. + +"If he has _two_, he must want the school--bad!"--said he. "Well +Squire, I'll go along and see what can be done. If I was you, mean +time, I'd not say much to no one. There's Judge Harrison, you know;--we +can't act without him. Good night t'ye! Squire, I guess he haint +_two?_--Anyhow, I wouldn't let fly no warrants till I saw my bird +sitting somewhere. It's bad to have 'em hit in a wrong place." + +And it was well it was darkish and nobody to look at him; for Mr. +Simlins went grinning pretty much all the way between Squire Deacon's +house and the house of Mrs. Derrick, where Mr. Linden was entertaining +his shadow in the moonlit porch. + +"Good even to you!" growled Mr. Simlins as he came up. The grin was +gone, and the farmer stood with his wonted solemnity of face and +manner. "Where's the rest o' your folks?" + +"The rest of _my_ folks are a good way off, Mr. Simlins," said the +person addressed, giving the questioner his hand; while his shadow +exchanged civilities with the shadow of Mr. Simlins. "When did you come +back? I am glad to see you?" + +"I'm glad to see myself," said Mr. Simlins. "There's no State like +Connecticut, sir. Where's _your_ bringin' up place? + +"No one place has had that honour, Mr. Simlins,--I have been brought up +from one to another." + +"Not Connecticut, eh?" + +"Not altogether--I am here just now, as you see,--getting a part of my +education. I am one of the Say and Seal people in a way. Won't you come +in, Mr. Simlins?" + +"Well--I'd as lief see Faith and Mrs. Derrick as a'most any other two +folks in Pattaquasset,--but they're a long ways off, you say?" + +"No further than the parlour, I believe." + +Mr. Simlins was willing to go as far as the parlour, and so the party +on the porch adjourned thither. A bright lamp lit the room, by which +Faith was mending stockings; while Mrs. Derrick sat in an easy chair a +little further off, rocking and knitting. + + +"Well," said Mr. Simlins, "when the sun goes down _I_ think it is time +to knock off work; but womenkind don't seem to think so." + +"I guess when the sun goes down your work's knocked off, Mr. Simlins," +said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Fact, Mrs. Derrick, when I'm to home; but when a man's visiting he has +to work night _and_ day. Moonlight's moonlight now. I declare, in +Jersey I thought it was broad sunshine.--You haven't been down to my +place yet, Mr. Linden?" + +"No sir, not within the gate." + +"The Simlins' have held that place, sir, off and on, for nigh three +hundred years. We're a good many Simlins'--and we're a good set, I'll +say it! a pretty good set. Not thin-skinned, you know,--we can take a +scratch without bein' killed--but we never would stand bein' trampled +on. We're soft-hearted too; plenty o' what I may call _tendrils_, ready +to take hold of anything; and when we take hold we _do_ take hold. We +cover a good deal of ground in the country, here and elsewhere--in the +various branches. My mother was a Mush, and my grandmother was a +Citron; a good families those, sir; can't do better than take a wife +from one of them, Mr. Linden, if you are so disposed;--you haven't got +one already, have you?" + +"_What_, sir?" said Mr. Linden, with more sharpness than he often +shewed, and which made Mrs. Derrick drop her knitting and look up. + +"I thought you wasn't a married man--are you?" said Mr. Simlins, the +grin just shewing itself again on his face. + +"Is that one of the charges brought against me?" said Mr. Linden, a +little too roused himself to pay much heed to Mr. Simlins' questions. + +"Well I didn't know as you'd think it a 'charge,'" said Mr. Simlins +with an unchanged tone. "I guess you mean to make it true some day, +don't you?" + +The question fell unheeded--the charge did not; it touched him deeply; +touched the proud sense of character; though no words gave evidence of +the fact. + +"Faith, child," said Mrs. Derrick in that moment of silence, her +whisper as low as she thought would reach across the table, "ought we +to be here?" + +But a very emphatic, "Yes!" from the window, prevented the need of +Faith's answer. + +"I was only recommending," said Mr. Simlins, "in case you wanted help +to make up your mind. The Citrons are all gone to New Jersey--there's a +few of the Mushes ramblin' round Connecticut yet. Well Mr. Linden--I +hope you and your boys get on commodiously together?" + +"Just look into that basket on the table, and see what one of em +brought him to-night," said Mrs. Derrick. "Those are Stoutenburgh +Sweetings, Mr. Simlins." + +Mr. Simlins looked at the Sweetings and then looked towards the window. + +"I'd like to hear you speak a little on that point," he said. "Fact is, +there's been some winds blowin' about Pattaquasset that aint come off +beds o' roses; and I'd like to find where the pison is and clap a +stopper on it for the future. It's easy done." + +Mr. Linden looked up with his usual expression, only the smile was +grave and a little moved, and answered, + +"I could say a good deal on that point, Mr. Simlins. Yet I had rather +you should ask the boys than me." + +"Don't want to ask the boys nothin', bless you!" said Mr. Simlins. +"What I want to say is this;--what's the matter between you and the +Squire? I've been askin' _him_, and he says you learn the boys to make +a V wrong side upward--I can't make nothin' of that," said Mr. Simlins, +with again the approach to a grin;--"'taint over easy to tell whether +_his_ Vs are one side up or 'tother. Now I'd like to know from you +where the hitch is. The Squire aint likely to set the Mong in a +configuration just yet--but if he's swingin' a torch round, I'd jest as +lief put it out afore the sharks fly." + +"But Mr. Simlins, don't you think it is rather hard measure to ask me +why people dislike me?" + +"Well--I don't see as I do," said Mr. Simlins placidly;--"'cause I know +pretty well it's some chymistry idee of his own; and if I could get +hold of it, you see, I should have a better handle. I guess the school +never went on better than it's goin'; _he_ don't know beans." + +"How do you know that I do?" said Mr. Linden smiling. "Why don't you +ask him? I think at least half his ill will arises from a mistake." + +"Have asked _him_," said Mr. Simlins--"just come from there;--but he's +pretty much like them V's we were speakin' about; don't spell nothin'. +What's his mistake about then? if I knowed that, I could bring things +to a concert." + +"Why," said Mr. Linden with grave deliberation, "suppose he wants to +buy your house? and takes a walk up that way to set forth his terms." + +"Well--suppose he does"--said Mr. Simlins attentively. + +"He finds you and Judge Harrison in the porch, you talk about the crops +and the weather, and he tells you he wants your house. What do you say +to him?" + +"I tell him I don't sell it to no one but a Simlins--nor that neither +till I can't live in it no longer myself." + +"Is that your fault--or Judge Harrison's?" said Mr. Linden, setting the +basket of Stoutenburgh Sweetings on the little table in the full light +of the lamp. "Miss Faith, if those are 'sweetenings,' they may as well +do their office." + +The farmer sat with his elbows on his knees, touching the tips of his +fingers together in thoughtful fashion, and softly blowing the breath +through his lips in a way that might have reached the dignity of a +whistle if it had had a trifle more of musicalness. + +"Is them the sort of lessons you give in school?" he said at length +without stirring. + +"Why?" said Mr. Linden with a little bit of a smile. + +"Ingen-uous," said Mr. Simlins. "It's as good as a book, Mrs. Derrick," +added he glancing up at the rocking chair, "is Squire Deacon wantin' to +buy your house?" + +"My!" said Mrs. Derrick, again laying down her knitting, "can't he be +content with his own? I hope he don't want ours," she added, some fear +mingling with her surprise. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "do you think if I gave you an apple you +would give me a knife?" + +"I hope he don't," growled Mr. Simlins as he rose up. "I never heerd +that he did. Miss Faith--them Stoutenburgh Sweetings is good eatin'." +Faith after setting a pile of plates and knives on the table, had taken +up her stocking again. + +"Yes Mr. Simlins--I know they are." + +"Then why don't you eat one?" + +"I don't want it just now, Mr. Simlins--I'd rather finish my work." + +"Work!" said the farmer taking an apple. "Well--good evening! I'll go +and look after my work. I guess we'll fix it. There's a sight o' work +in the world!" + +With which moral reflection Mr. Simlins departed. + +"There'll be more work than sight, at this rate," said Mr. Linden when +he came back from the front door. "Mrs. Derrick, how many stockings +does Miss Faith absolutely require for one day?" + +"Why I don't know sir--and I don't believe I ever did know since she +was big enough to run about," said Mrs. Derrick, her mind still +dwelling upon the house. + +"Miss Faith, my question stands transferred to you." + +"Why you know," said Faith, intent upon the motions of her needle,--"I +might require to _mend_ in one day what would last me to wear a good +many--and I do." + +"But, + + 'The day is done--and the darkness + Falls from the wing of night.'" + +"I never mend stockings till then," said Faith smiling over her work. +"Are Sam's apples good?" + +"By reputation." + +"I thought you were trying them! Why you asked me for a knife, Mr. +Linden--and I brought it." + +"I'm sure I gave you an apple. Perhaps you thought it was a ball of +darning cotton." + +"No, I didn't," said Faith laughing. "But what use is my apple to your +knife, Mr. Linden?" + +"Not much--it has served the purposes of trade." + +"But what is the purpose of trade, Mr. Linden, if the articles aren't +wanted?" + +"I see you are dissatisfied with your bargain," he said. "Well, I will +be generous--you shall have the knife too;" and Mr. Linden walked away +from the table and went upstairs. + +The parlour was very still after that. Faith's needle, indeed, worked +with more zeal than ever, but Mrs. Derrick rolled up her knitting and +put it in her basket, sighing a little as she did so: then sat and +thought. + +"Faith, child," she said after a long pause, "do you think the Squire +would ever take our house?" + +Faith hesitated, and the answer when it came was not satisfactory. + +"I don't know, mother." + +Mrs. Derrick sighed again, and leaned back in her chair, and rocked; +the rockers creaking in rather doleful sympathy with her thoughts. Then +an owl on a tree before the door hooted at the world generally, though +Mrs. Derrick evidently thought his remarks personal. + +"I can't think why he should do that to-night, of all nights in the +year!" she said, sitting straight up in her chair. "It never did mean +good. Faith--what should we do if he did?"--this time she meant the +Squire, not the owl. + +"Mother!"--said Faith, and then she spoke in her usual tone.--"We'd +find a way." + +"Well!--" said Mrs. Derrick, rocking back and forth. Then she started +up. "We've got to have biscuits for breakfast, whether or no! It's good +I remembered 'em!" And she hurried out of the room, coming back to kiss +Faith and say, + +"Don't fret, pretty child, whatever happens. Go to bed and to +sleep,--I'll make the biscuit." And alert and busy she left the parlour. + +Faith's sleep was quiet, but not unbroken. For at that time when all +well-disposed people, young or old, are generally asleep (in such a +well-ordered community as Pattaquasset) it pleased the younger portion +of said community to be awake. Yet they were well-disposed--and also +ill! For repairing in a body to Mrs. Derrick's house they gave her nine +cheers for her lodger,--thence departing to Squire Deacon's, they gave +him as many groans as he could reasonably want for himself. After which +the younger part of the community retired in triumph. + +It was said, by one adventurous boy, that falling in with Mr. Simlins +they impressed him--that his voice helped on the cheers, but not the +groans: and indeed the whole story needs confirmation. + +Faith heard the groans but faintly, owing to the distance, but the +cheers were tremendous. + +It is painful to add that Joe Deacon was vociferous in both parties. + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + +"I hope your rest was disturbed last night," said Faith rather gaily, +as she came in to the breakfast-table with a plate of biscuits and set +them down before Mr. Linden. + +"Thank you! you have reason to be quite satisfied in that respect." + +"But did you hear them after they left our house?" + +"I heard them--really or in imagination--all night, thank you again, +Miss Faith--and am as sleepy this morning as you can desire." + +"It wasn't I," said Faith. "Now what notice, Mr. Linden, will you think +it proper to take of such a proceeding?" + +"That was one thing which kept me awake." + +"But as you are sleepy now, I suppose the point is decided?" + +"You are as quick at conclusions as Johnny Fax," said Mr. Linden +smiling, "who always supposes that when I am not using my pen myself I +am quite ready to let him have it." + +"Does he get it?" + +"What should you advise?" + +"O Mr. Linden!" said Faith,--"I should advise you to do--just what you +do!" + +"Unsound!" he said,--"I thought you were a better adviser. But about +this matter of the boys--I shall probably read them a lecture, wherein +I shall set forth the risk they run of getting sick by such exposure to +the night air; also the danger I am in of being sent away from my +present quarters, because ladies prefer sleep to disturbance. Having +thus wrought up their feelings to the highest pitch, I shall give them +a holiday and come home to dinner." + +Faith laughed her little low laugh of pleasure; at least it always +sounded so. It might be pleasure at one thing or at another; but it was +as round and sweet a tone of merry or happy acknowledgment, as is ever +heard in this world of discordances. + +"But are you really sleepy, sir?" said Mrs. Derrick. "I'm so sorry! I +thought they were doing nothing but good. I never once thought of their +waking you up." + +Mr. Linden laughed too, a little. + +"I shall get waked up"--he said,--"in the course of the day. Unless +somebody has drugged my coffee." + +"Judge Harrison was here this morning, Mr. Linden, with a message for +you," said Faith. "Mother, will you tell Mr. Linden what Judge Harrison +said?" + +"I'd rather hear you, child, by half," said her mother, with a smile +whereon the house cast a little shadow. "Tell him yourself, Faith." And +Mrs. Derrick sighed, and took her napkin and rubbed off a spot on the +coffeepot. + +"Judge Harrison came--" said Faith, and paused. + +"And went away"--said Mr. Linden. + +"Yes," said Faith. "He stopped on his way somewhere, and came into the +kitchen to talk to us. He said he would like, if you would like it, he +would like to have a great exhibition of the boys--he knows about the +school, he says, and there hasn't been such a school in Pattaquasset +since he has been here himself; and he would like to shew it up to the +whole town. So if Mr. Linden approved of it, Judge Harrison said, he +would have a gathering of all the countryside in some nice place--the +Judge has plenty of ground and can get anybody else's besides; and the +boys should have a great examination, and after that there should be an +entertainment under the trees, for boys and all. And he wanted mother +to speak to Mr. Linden, and see whether he would like it. And mother +wouldn't," said Faith as she finished. + +Mr. Linden raised his eyebrows slightly--then let them fall and +likewise his eyes. Then sent his cup to be replenished, gravely +remarking to Faith that if she had any drugs, she might put them in now! + +"What kind of drugs would you like, Mr. Linden?" said Faith. + +"Any that are deeply sedative." + +"Sedative?" said Faith, with that look which he often drew from +her,--very earnest, half wistful, half sorrowful,--"I don't know what +it means, Mr. Linden." + +"It means," said he, his face relaxing a little, "'such as diminish the +physical energy, without destroying life,'--such in short, as might +qualify a man for the situation of a tame monkey on a pole." + +Faith's look changed to a sort of indignant little glance, and her lips +parted; but they closed again and her eyes went down to her plate. + +"What were you going to remark, Miss Faith?" + +Faith blushed a good deal, however the answer came steadily. "I don't +think any drugs would do that for you." + +"I am in a bad way, then," said Mr. Linden with unmoved gravity. +"Because if I survive this trial of what I can bear, I intend to +advertise for the afore-named situation. Have you heard of any vacant +pole, Miss Faith?" + +Faith looked at him with a grave, considering wonder, which gradually +broke into a sense of fun; and then she laughed, as she did not often +laugh. + +Apparently Mr. Linden was well enough pleased with such answer to his +words, for he not only made no attempt to stop her, but even remarked +that it was good to be of a sympathizing disposition. + +The day passed as usual; only of late it had got to be Faith's habit to +spend a good deal of time shut up in her room. It had never been her +habit before. But now, after going through her early household duties, +of which Faith had plenty, she used to be out of sight often for an +hour before dinner; unless when the dinner required just that hour of +her attention. Nothing was left behind her to call her down. Her dairy, +her bread and cake, her pies and cream-cheeses, her dinner +preparations--whatever the things might be--were all ready for the +day's wants; and then Faith was gone. After dinner it was still more +surely the same. Yet though all this was true, it was so quietly and +unobtrusively true that Mrs. Derrick had hardly observed it. + +It happened this afternoon that Faith lingered upstairs,--not until +teatime, but until she heard her mother call. Reuben Taylor wanted to +see her. He was at the gate. + +"I didn't want to disturb you, Miss Faith. I told Mrs. Derrick so. It's +only some clams,--which I thought maybe you'd like," said Reuben +modestly. "I left 'em in the kitchen." + +"Thank you, Reuben--I like them very much. Do you feel better than you +did yesterday?" + +"Yes, ma'am--" said Reuben rather slowly,--"I felt a great deal better +last night." + +"And to-day--don't you?" + +"Yes, ma'am," Reuben answered as before. + +"But not so well as last night? What's the matter, Reuben?" + +"Didn't you hear what they did last night, ma'am?" + +"To be sure I did, but what has made you feel worse to-day?" + +"Why you know, ma'am," said Reuben, "last night I forgot all about +everybody but Mr. Linden. But oh Miss Faith! I just wish you could have +been in school to-day for one minute!--when Mr. Linden came in! You +see," said Reuben, excitement conquering reserve, "the boys were all +there--there wasn't one of 'em late, and every one had a sprig of +basswood in his hat and in his buttonhole. And we all kept our hats on +till he got in, and stood up to meet him (though _that_ we do always) +and then we took off our hats together and gave him such a shout!--You +know, Miss Faith," added Reuben with a smile both expressive and sweet, +"basswood's a kind of linden." + +"And what did Mr. Linden do?" said Faith with a smile of her own that +very well reflected Reuben's. + +"He didn't say much," said Reuben,--"he _looked_ a good deal." + +"Well, you foolish boy," said Faith gently, "don't you feel well now, +after all that? What's the matter?" + +A heavy, shoe-leathery step came down the street--it was Squire Deacon. +Reuben knew who it was before the Squire came near, for he flushed up, +and for a moment stood with his back resolutely turned towards the +gate; then with an air as resolute, but different, he turned round and +bowed as courteously as he knew how--far more so than the Squire did to +him; for the combination of Faith and Reuben did not seem to fall +pleasantly upon Squire Deacon's organs of vision; nor indeed could he +have quite forgotten last night. + +"Reuben, come in," said Faith touching his shoulder and smiling,--"I +want to speak to you. But first answer my question--why don't you feel +quite well now? You ought, Reuben." + +"Yes, Miss Faith--I know I ought,--at least I oughtn't to feel just as +I do," Reuben answered. "Mr. Linden told me so to-day." + +"Then why do you feel so?" Faith asked with increased earnestness. + +Reuben coloured and hesitated. + +"Folks vex me--" he said in a low voice. "And--and Mr. Linden says I +love him too well if I'm not willing to let him go when God pleases. +And I know it's true--but--" and Reuben followed Faith into the house +without another word. + +"What do you mean about Mr. Linden's going?" + +"Just that, ma'am," said Reuben simply. "Because we can't make +ourselves feel well by thinking things are going just as we want 'em +to--he says that's not strong enough ground to rest on." + +"But does he talk of going away, Reuben?" + +"O no! Miss Faith I never heard him,--he only talked so to me because +of what other folks said." + +"Well," said Faith with a change of tone, "you're a foolish boy. You +come and see me whenever you get feeling bad again. Folks can't hurt +Mr. Linden. Now look here--Wait a minute, will you!"-- + +Faith ran upstairs; speedily came down again with a little blue-covered +book in her hand. + +"Is this the arithmetic you study?" she said softly, coming close to +him. + +Reuben took the book with some surprise in his face. + +"Yes, ma'am, this is the one." And he looked up at her as if to ask, +what next. + +"How far have you gone?" + +"I am through this now," said Reuben, "but some of the others are +here--and here." + +"Then you can tell me," said Faith. She turned over to a certain page, +far on in the book too, and putting it into Reuben's hands, said +quietly, + +"I am studying it, and I cannot make anything of this. Do you remember +how it was explained?" + +"The book's wrong," said Reuben, after a glance at it,--"I remember, +Miss Faith. See--it ought to be so--and so--" Reuben went on +explaining. "All the books we could get here were just like it, and Mr. +Linden said if he found any more mistakes he would send to Quilipeak +and get good ones. He shewed us how this ought to be." + +"That's it!" said Faith. "Thank you, Reuben. And you needn't tell +anybody I asked you about it." + +Reuben looked a little surprised again, but he said "No, ma'am," and +made his bow. + +It was Faith's turn to be surprised then, for stepping into the +tea-room to look at the clock, she found not only the clock but Mr. +Linden,--the former ticking sundry minutes past teatime, the latter +enjoying the sunset clouds and his own reflections, and (possibly) his +book. Mrs. Derrick, favouring the atmosphere of the little wood fire, +which had burnt itself out to coals and ashes, sat at one corner of the +hearth, taking up the stiches round the heel of her stocking; which +precarious operation engrossed her completely. Mr. Linden however +looked up, and took in the whole of the little picture before him. +Apparently the picture was pleasant, for he smiled. + +Faith's look was startled. + +"I am late!" she said with a compunctious glance at the clock. And as +soon as it could be made the tea came in smoking. As Faith took her +seat at the table she put her question. + +"When did you come in, Mr. Linden?" + +"About a quarter of an hour before you did." + +"By which way?" + +"Why!--by the door. It is simpler than the window." + +The next few seconds seemed to be employed by Faith in buttering bread +and eating it, but in reality they were used for carrying on a somewhat +hurried calculation of minutes and distances which brought the colour +in her cheeks to a hue of pretty richness. + +"Did I run over anybody in my way?" asked Mr. Linden. "What gives the +question its interest?" + +"I had thought you were out," said Faith quietly. + +"I know a shorter way to the store than you do," said Mr. Linden with +equal quietness. + +"To the store!" said Faith, eye and lip quite putting quietness out of +the question. + +"Yes, I found your footprints there the other day, and I have been +wanting to tell you ever since that it is not anything like so far up +to my room. Let me recommend that way to you for the future." + +Faith's colour was no matter of degrees now, for it rushed over temples +and cheek in a flood. And seemed inclined to be a permanency. + +"There you may take what you like," he went on, with a smile that was +both amused and encouraging, "and I shall be none the wiser--unless you +tell me yourself. If you do tell me, I shall be very glad. Now Miss +Faith--what shall we do about Judge Harrison?" + +Faith hesitated, and struggled perhaps, for it did not seem very easy +to speak with that deep flush on her brow; and then she said rather low, + +"I am not ungrateful, Mr. Linden." + +"Neither am I--but this proposal of his gives me some trouble. I think +if he would have all the fun, without any of the shewing off, it would +answer every good purpose and avoid all the bad ones. And if you will +intimate as much to your mother, Miss Faith, and persuade her to convey +the information to Judge Harrison, it will perhaps be the best way of +reply. Of course as trustee he has still the right of doing as he +likes." + +"Mother, do you hear?" said Faith, "or do you want me to repeat it?" + +"No, child,"--said her mother abstractedly; "I didn't hear, to be +sure,--how should I? Faith--what do you suppose makes Cindy break the +noses off all our milk pitchers?" + +This was an irresistible question. Faith's own face came back, and +during the rest of supper-time she was like herself, only with a shade +more than was usual upon her brow and manner. + +The short September day had little twilight to lengthen it out. The +cool western horizon still outshone the setting stars with its clear +light, but in the east and overhead others came out, 'silently, one by +one.' Mr. Linden went to take his evening walk, Faith to light the lamp +in the parlour, watched and gazed at by her mother the while. + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick, "what makes you stay upstairs so? I never +thought of it till I went to call you to see Reuben--but seems to me +you are up there a great deal." + +Faith smiled a little and also looked grave, as she was putting on the +shade of the lamp. + +"Yes, mother"--she said,--"I am." + +"What for, pretty child?" said her mother fondly. + +Faith was pretty, in the look with which she answered this appeal. Her +smile dropped its gravity, and only love came in to make the confession. + +"Mother, I am trying to learn. I want to be wiser." + +"Learn!" said Mrs. Derrick in utter astonishment, and rousing out of +her resting position. "Trying to _learn_, child?" + +"Yes, mother--what about it? I don't know anything; and I want to +know--a great deal!" + +"Why you know everything now!" said Mrs. Derrick. "What don't you know, +Faith?--_I_ should like to!" + +Faith smiled. + +"Mother, I don't know anything!"--and then she added more brightly, +"I've begun with arithmetic, for one thing." + +"Arithmetic!" said Mrs. Derrick; and she paused, and leaned back in her +chair, rocking gently to and fro, with a shade of soberness stealing +over her face. + +"You never did have much chance,"--she said at length, "because I +couldn't give it to you then. My heart was broke, Faith, and I couldn't +bear to have you out of my sight for a minute. But somehow I thought +you knew everything." And she sat still once more, looking at Faith as +if trying to reinstate herself in her old opinion. Nor altogether +without success; for with a little smile coming over her face, Mrs. +Derrick added, + +"You won't be any sweeter--learn as much as you will, child,--you +needn't think it;" and the rockers would have certainly come into play +again if Cindy had not opened the door and claimed attention. + +"I s'pose likely you don't want to go down to Widder Stamp's?" she +said. "'Cause she wants you to come. I'm free to confess she's got the +high-strikes wonderful." + +"Mother," said Faith, giving her one or two kisses as Mrs. Derrick rose +to prove the contrary of Cindy's supposition, "I shall be a great deal +_happier;_--and I am getting along nicely." + +Which sent Mrs. Derrick off in triumph. But when she was gone, Faith +did not take her basket of stockings, nor yet her arithmetic; but sat +down by the table with her head in her hands and sat very still. Still, +until Mr. Linden came in, laid one paper on the table at her side, and +sat down to read another. Faith's darning-needle came into play then, +and worked quick and silently. Mr. Linden glanced towards it as he laid +down his paper. + +"I see you evaded my question last night," he said,--"there could not +be such a _constant_ supply, if there were not also a constant demand." + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith, her colour a little raised and her voice +changing somewhat,--"I want to ask you something--if you are not busy +about anything." + +"I am not but you might ask just as freely if I were." + +"I couldn't," said Faith. She drew her hand out of her stocking and put +her thimble on the table. + +"Mr. Linden," she said without looking at him,--"a while ago, when you +were speaking of faith and a cloudy day, and I told you I wasn't like +that,--you said I must read the Bible then, and do what that said. I +have been trying to do it."-- + +Shading his eyes with his hand, he looked at her--as if waiting to hear +more. + +"And I don't understand it," she said.--"I don't know how to get on." + +"Do you mean, with the Bible? Is it _that_ you do not understand?" + +"I don't understand some things--I don't know exactly what I ought to +do." + +"In what respect?--where is the difficulty? Some things in the Bible +you never will understand, perhaps, in this world, and others you must +learn by degrees." + +"I don't understand exactly what makes a Christian--and I want to be +one." + +It was spoken low, and timidly; but Faith was in earnest. Mr. Linden +sat silent a minute, without changing his position. + +"A Christian is one, who trusting in Christ as his only Saviour, +thenceforth obeys him as his only King." + +Faith hesitated and thought. "I don't understand," she said folding her +hands, "--about the trusting." + +"Suppose there was something you wanted done too hard for your strength +but not for mine,--would you know how to trust it in my hands?" + +She bowed her head and said, "Yes!" + +"Suppose I consented to do it only upon condition that for the rest of +your life my will and pleasure should be your only rule of +action,--would the great work still be yours or mine?" + +"Why, yours," she said, still looking at him. + +"Cannot you see Christ--standing between God and man, offering his own +blood where justice demands ours, and with his perfect righteousness +covering our imperfect obedience? So 'that God may be just, and yet the +justifier of him that believeth in Jesus.' Can you apply any words? Can +you see that Christ only is 'mighty to save'?--Are you willing to trust +yourself in his hands?" + +Faith dropped her eyes for a minute or two, but the lines of her face +were changing. + +"I know what you mean now," she said slowly. "I couldn't see it +before." Then with a little smile she went on--"Yes, Mr. Linden, I am +willing. But what must I do?" + +"'Only believe--'" he answered. "Do what you say you are willing to do." + +"But," said Faith, looking at him with a face which certainly spoke her +near the 'little child' character which Christians do bear,--"there +must be something else. I must not be like what I have been. I want to +know what I ought to _do_." + +"Christ's own words tell you better than I can,--'My sheep hear my +voice, and I know them, and they follow me'--that is the description of +a Christian on earth. And then it follows--'I give unto them eternal +life, and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out +of my hand.'" + +There was silence; and then Faith said, + +"But how am I to follow him?" + +"How did the people do to whom he said those words when he was on +earth?" + +"I don't know!" + +"'They arose, and left all, and followed him.'" + +"Well, Mr. Linden?"-- + +"It is just such a following that we are called to now--only that it +must be in heart and life instead of actual footsteps. Just so must we +rise up from doing our own will and pleasure, fix our eyes upon Christ, +and follow him!" + +"But how are we to know--how am _I_ to know," said Faith, "what _I_ +ought to do?" + +"Study Christ's summing up of the ten commandments,--does not that +cover the whole ground? And then--do every little duty as it comes to +hand. If we are truly ready to do God's will, he will send us work,--or +if not-- + + 'They also serve, who only stand and wait.'" + + +Faith looked an earnest, wistful, sorrowful look at him. + +"But then," she said,--"I don't do anything well--how can I know that I +am right? You know what you said--of the two roads only one led to the +shore. I keep thinking of that--ever since." + +"A traveller in the right road," said Mr. Linden, "may walk with very +weak and unsteady pace,--yet he knows which way his face is set. Which +way is yours?" + +Faith's face was in her hands. But Mrs. Derrick's step just then +sounding at the front door, she sprang away before it could reach the +parlour. + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + +The decision of Mr. Linden on the school question was duly communicated +to Judge Harrison; and the time fixed was Thursday, the fifth of +October. The place chosen, after much care, was the Judge's own house +and grounds adjoining, which were spacious enough, and afforded good +opportunity for setting tables and also for spreading them. So all that +was fixed; and all Pattaquasset was a tip-toe; and Mr. Linden submitted +to what he could not help, with as good a grace as he might. And +September was sliding off into October with the gentlest, sunniest, +softliest grace. + +With much the same sort of grace Faith Derrick walked up and down in +her mother's household; from the dairy where she made her butter, to +Mr. Linden's room which it was her care to keep in order; and where she +might if she chose amuse herself with Mr. Linden's books. If she did, +it was unknown to their owner; he surely found every volume lying where +he left it. There was chance enough for Faith, in his long absences +from the house; and the books offered temptations. There were a good +many of them, stowed in old-fashioned corner and window cupboards; good +editions, in good bindings, and an excellent very choice selection of +subjects and authors. There were books in various languages of which +Faith could make nothing--but sighs; in her own mother tongue there +were varieties of learning and literature enough to distract her. All +however that the owner could know of other hands about his books, was +that there was no dust upon them. + +Perhaps he had a mind to know more--or that there should be more to be +known; for about this time two remarkable things happened. One was, +that Faith found a little French book ensconced among the stockings in +her basket,--and the very next morning as Mr. Linden was setting off +for school, he stopped at the threshold and inquired-- + +"Miss Faith--whereabouts are you in Prescott?" + +That same colour flushed in Faith's face; it did not rise to her +temples this time, but glowed richly in her cheeks. She looked down and +up, and down; words seemed confounded in their utterance. + +"You do not mean that you have finished it already?" he said with an +excellent look of astonishment. + +"I have almost,"--said Faith. "Mr. Linden, how could you tell?--I don't +know what makes me do so!" she said putting both hands to her +cheeks,--"there's no shame in it." + +"I didn't suppose there was," he said smiling, and closed the door. + +Very oddly, in spite of morning duties, Faith's next move was to go to +her basket, pull out that little French book and examine it all over +inside and out. Not one word of it could she read, not one sign of it +did she know; what was the meaning of its place in her basket? Faith +pondered that question probably while her cheeks were coming back to +their usual tint; then the book was slipped back again and she hurried +away to help her mother with the dishes. + +"You needn't come, child," said Mrs. Derrick,--"what do you think I'll +make of such a handful of things as that? To be sure Cindy's cleaning +up to-day, but I'm pretty smart, yet. Go off and study arithmetic if +you want to. Have you got through that yet?" + +"Almost through, mother," Faith answered smiling. + +"Well why don't you go and finish?" said her mother. + +"Mayn't I finish these first?" said Faith, through whose fingers and +the towel the cups and saucers slipped with a dexterity that was, to +say the least of it, pretty. "Why mother, you were not so keen after +arithmetic the other day." + +"Keen after it!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"la, child, I don't pretend to be +keen. But I never could bear to see a thing half done,--I'd rather do +it twice over." + +There was something else running in Faith's mind; for after +abstractedly setting down one after another several saucers, polished +from the hot water and huckaback, she dropped her towel and flung both +arms round her mother's neck. + +"Mother!--there is one thing I want you to do--I want you to be a +Christian!" + +There was persuasion in the soft head that nestled against her, if +Faith's words lacked it. + +To the words her mother gave no answer, but she returned the caress +with interest; wrapping Faith in her arms, and drawing her down to the +next chair, as if--literally--she could not stand that. + +"Pretty child!" she said--and more than one tear fell upon Faith's +bright hair,--"you're the best child that ever was!--and always were!" + +"No, mother," said Faith kissing her.--"But will you?" + +"I don't know!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"that's what your father used to +say, Faith,--and I used to think I'd like to, to please him,--but +somehow I never did." + +"Never wished it for your own sake, dear mother?" + +"Yes--sometimes--when I saw him die--" said Mrs. Derrick. "Hush +child--don't say another word to me now, for I can't bear it." And +giving Faith an embrace which took off all thought of roughness from +her words, Mrs. Derrick rose up and went about her dishes again. + +And Faith tried to do as much; but the dropping tears were too fast for +her towel; her hand sought in vain to forbid their coming; she laid +down her work and went away. + +Truth however is always at one with itself, and so is right feeling, +and so is duty. Faith as well as her mother had plenty of business on +hand that morning; and it was not long before she was as hard at work +in the kitchen as if there were no other interests in the world. There +was bread to make. That was done. There was an elaborate chicken pie to +concoct for dinner, which Faith would not leave to her mother to-day. +There was a certain kind of muffins which Mrs. Derrick suggested Mr. +Linden would be apt to like, and which they had never had since he was +in Pattaquasset. To hear was to obey, and Faith compounded the muffins. +Then fresh yeast must be made, and Faith always did that. Let it not be +thought that Mrs. Derrick was idle while thus indicating floury fields +of exertion to her daughter. Very far from it. There was all the house +and all the rest of the dinner to see to; besides Cindy, who was one +woman's work. The butcher was to be met, and farm questions settled +with the farmer; and Mrs. Derrick was still deep in vegetables when +Faith quitted the kitchen. How much time she had left for study before +dinner it doesn't appear. + +After dinner, this day, there was small study chance--or at least small +chance to get books; for it was Wednesday,--and Wednesday was in every +Pattaquasset school a half holiday. Indeed that arrangement of things +extended beyond the schools; and on this particular Wednesday, Mrs. +Derrick devoted the holiday time to a far-off neighbour--declaring that +she "felt like a good long walk." And after her departure the +dreaminess of a warm fall afternoon settled down upon the house and its +inhabitants. Faith sat sewing by the parlour window, or +reading--stealthily; for Mr. Linden with his book sat in the porch not +three feet from her; but it is not too much to say that neither made +great progress. Who could read or work--or think--vigilantly, in that +hazy sunshine?--the very bees took a siesta on the wing, and rocked to +and fro in the soft air. + +About the middle of the afternoon a small white-headed boy was seen +revolving down the main street of Pattaquasset. I say revolving--for +the slight suggestion of a small stone in the road--or a spot of +particular dustiness--was enough to make the boy break the monotony of +his walk with a somerset; by which style of progress he at last arrived +at Mrs. Derrick's door, entered the gate and came up the steps. There +he paused and gazed at Mr. Linden. + +"What is your name?" inquired that gentleman, with the benevolent idea +of setting the boy's thoughts in motion in a straight line. + +"Charles twelf'" replied the boy promptly. + +"Charles twelfth!" said Mr. Linden. "Are there eleven more of you?" + +The boy put his finger in his mouth but brought forth no answer. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "are you the planet which has attracted +this small star out of its usual orbit?" + +Faith came to the door. + +"Who are you, little fellow?" said she, eying the dusty white head. + +"Who be you?" said the boy. + +"The centre of your solar system at present," said Mr. Linden. "Is that +the way satellites generally ask questions?" + +"What a queer man!" said the boy looking at Mr. Linden. + +"What a queer boy--" said that gentleman gravely. + +"What do you want?" said Faith, biting her lips and laughing at both of +them. + +The boy gazed at her, but he also gazed at the scraper!--and the +attraction of that was irresistible. Down went his white head, and over +went his dusty feet, and then Charles twelfth was himself again. + +"My ma' kep' your 'ma to supper," he said. "And she says you may come +too, if you want ter--and bring _him_. We've got lots o' pies." And +stimulated by this recollection, the boy turned without delay and began +his revolutions homeward. Faith ran down the two or three porch steps +and laid hold of the little invader. + +"Here! You Charles twelfth!--who are you, and where does your ma' live?" + +"She lives down to our house." + +"Where's that?" + +"Down the woody road--" said the boy,--"next after you come to Capting +Samp's blackberry field. There's sunflowers in front." + +"Then you are Mrs. Seacomb's boy? Very well," said Faith, letting him +go. "Mr. Linden, there is an invitation for you." + +"Is there a carriage road into Sweden? or do we walk?" he replied. + +"Sweden?"--said Faith,--"it is in the woods, two or three miles from +here. A woman lives there--the widow of a man that used to sail with my +father. My father was captain of a ship, Mr. Linden. Mr. Seacomb was +one of his mates, and very fond of him; and we go to see Mrs. Seacomb +once in a while. I don't think, perhaps, you would like it. It's a +pretty ride." + +"That is a kind of ride I do like." + +"But I don't know whether you would like it all. If you say so, I will +have up the wagon." + +"Thank you--_that_ I should not like. I prefer to have it up myself, +Miss Faith--if you will have up your bonnet." + +Faith's face gave way at that, and the bonnet and the wagon were up +accordingly. + +The way led first down the high road, bordered with gardens and farms +and the houses of the village--if village it were called, where the +neighbours looked at each other's distant windows across wide tracts of +meadow, orchards and grain fields. The road was reasonably dusty, in +the warm droughts of September; nevertheless the hedgerows that grew +thick in many places shewed gay tufts of autumn flowering; and the +mellow light lay on every wayside object and sober distance like the +reflection from a butterfly's wing. Except the light, all changed when +they got into the woody road. + +It was woody indeed!--except where it was grassy; and woods and grass +played hide and seek with each other. The grass-grown road, its thicker +grass borders--where bright fall flowers raised their proud little +heads; the old fence, broken down in places, where bushes burst through +and half filled the gap; bright hips on the wild rosebushes, tufts of +yellow fern leaves, brilliant handfuls of red and yellow which here a +maple and there a pepperidge held out over the road; the bushy, +bosquey, look which the uncut undergrowth gave the wood on either hand; +the gleams of soft green light, the bands of shadow, the deeper +thickets where the eye looked twice and came back unsatisfied,--over +all the blue sky, with forest leaves for a border. Such was the woody +road that afternoon. Flocks of little birds of passage flitted and +twittered about their night's lodging, or came down to feast on +wintergreen or cedar berries; and Mrs. Derrick's old horse walked +softly on, as if he knew no one was in a hurry. + +"'With what a glory comes and goes the year'!" Mr. Linden said. + +"And stays all the while, don't it?" said Faith rather timidly and +after an instant's hesitation. + +"Yes, in a sort--though to my fancy the other seasons have rather +beauty and splendour, while autumn keeps the glory for itself." + +"I think it is glorious all the year round," said Faith;--"though to be +sure," she added with a sudden check, "perhaps I don't use the word +right." + +"Yes, it is glorious,--but I think 'glorious' and 'glory' have drifted +a little apart upon the tide of human speech. Glory, always seems to my +mind a warm, glowing, effulgent thing,--but ice-peaks may be glorious. +The old painters encircled the heads of their saints with a 'glory' and +you could not imagine that a cold light." + +Faith listened, with the eyes of one first seeing into the world of +wonder and beauty hidden from common vision. She did not answer, till +her thoughts came back to the road they were travelling, and catching +her breath a little she said, + +"_This_ isn't a cold light." + +"No, truly. And just so far as the saints on earth walk in a cold +light, so far, I think, their light is less glorious." + +"I don't see how they can,"--said Faith timidly. + +"They do--sometimes,--standing aloof like those ice-peaks. You can see +the white garments, but no glory transfigures them. Such a face as +Stephen's, Miss Faith, is worth a journey to see." + +Faith thought so; wondered how many such faces he had seen. Her +meditations plunged her too deep for words. + +"What are you musing about?--if I may ask," Mr. Linden said presently. + +She coloured but answered, "I was thinking what one must be, to have a +face like Stephen's." + +"That is the promise, you know--from 'glory to glory.' 'From grace to +glory' must come first. 'What one must _be_'--yes, that is it. But it +is good to measure the promises now and then." + +Faith laid that last remark up in her heart, enshrining it in gold, as +it were. But she said nothing. + +"How is it with you?" he said turning his eyes full upon her,--"you +have not told me lately. Are the clouds all gone?" + +Her look met his, wistful, and simple as her answer. + +"I see the light through."-- + +"'Unto the perfect-day'!" Mr. Linden said, his smile--slight as it +was--bringing a sort of illumination with it. After a few minutes he +turned to her again. + +"Miss Faith, one whom Christ has called into his army should wear his +uniform." + +"What, sir?"--she said, the colour starting readily. + +"With the private vows of allegiance, there should be also a public +profession." + +"Yes,"--she said, "I suppose so.--I am willing--I am ready." + +Timid, modest, even shrinking as she was, more in view of the subject +than of her adviser, her face was as frank as the day. His hand quitted +the reins a moment, taking hers and giving it a sort of +'right-hand-of-fellowship' clasp, glad and warm and earnest, as was his +look. + +"I am not going to ask you anymore questions," he said,--"you will tell +me if there are any you wish answered." + +Her "Thank you" was a little breathless. + +For a while the old horse jogged on in his easy way, through the woods +and the fall flowers and the sunny glow; and the eyes of the two +travellers seemed to be busy therewith. Then Faith said with a little +timid touch upon her voice, + +"Mr. Linden--I suppose it was you that put a little green book in my +basket last night?" + +"Jumping at conclusions again!" he said. "What sort of a little green +book was it?" + +"I don't know! I suppose you can tell me." + +"Do you suppose I will?" + +"Why not? What did you expect me to do with it, Mr. Linden?" + +"Find out what sort of a book it is." + +"You know I can't read a word of it," said Faith rather low. + +"Look at that old house," said Mr. Linden. + +They were passing a cleared field or two, one of which seemed yet under +cultivation and shewed corn stalks and pumpkin vines, but the other was +in that poverty-stricken state described by the proverb as 'I once +had.' The house was a mere skeleton. Clapboards, indeed, there were +still, and shingles; but doors and windows had long since been +removed--by man or Time,--and through the open spaces you could see +here a cupboard door, and there a stairway, and there a bit of +partition wall with its faded high-coloured paper. No remnant of +furniture--no rag of old clothes or calico; but in the dooryard a few +garden flowers still struggled to keep their place, among daisies, +thistles and burdocks. The little field was bordered with woodland, and +human voice or face there was none. The sunbeams which shone so bright +on the tinted trees seemed powerless here; the single warm ray that +shot through one of the empty window frames fell mournfully on the cold +hearthstone. + +"Yes," said Faith.--"I don't know who ever lived there. It has stood so +a good while." + +The road grew more solitary still after that, passing on where the +trees came close upon either hand, and arched their branches overhead, +casting a deep and lonely shadow. The flowers dwindled, the briars and +rank grass increased. + +"As to 'Le Philosophe sous les toits,' Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, +touching the horse with his whip, "there are just two things to be +said. In the first place--with the help of another book or two which +are not beyond reach--you may make his acquaintance quite comfortably +by yourself. In the second--no, I shall not tell you the second,--that +you may find out by yourself too. There is Charles twelfth--and all his +subjects one might judge." + +For on Captain Samp's blackberry hill--albeit blackberries were bygone +things--a troop, a flock of children were scattered up and down, +picking flowers. Golden rod and asters and 'moonshine,' filled the +little not-too-clean hands, and briars and wild roses combed the +'unkempt' hair somewhat roughly. Whiteheaded youngsters all of them, +looking (but for small patterns of blue calico and nankeen) not unlike +a drove of little pigs. Next appeared an imposing array of sunflowers, +below which prince's feather waved in crimson splendour, and the little +brown capital of 'Sweden' stood revealed. Or I should say, partially; +for the house stood in the deepest corner of the shade, just where the +road took a sharp turn towards the sunlight; and Mr. Linden alighted +and tied his horse to a tree, with little fear that anything would +happen to him unless the darkness put him to sleep. + +"Charles twelfth has the best of it just now, Miss Faith," he said as +he opened the gate for her. "Why do people build houses where they +cannot see the sun!" + +They were met at the door by Mrs. Seacomb. + +"Do tell!" she said--"why if this aint you! But what made you come so +late? and how slow your horse did come when he was about it. I've been +watchin' you this age. Well Faith--I declare--you're as pretty as a +posie! And this is the teacher I s'pose--Guess likely you haint been +down this way afore, sir,--it's a good ways, and the road's lonesome, +but it's a fine place when you're here--so retired and shady." + +All Mr. Linden's command of countenance only enabled him to answer the +last remark with a strong affirmative. + +"Yes sir," said Mrs. Seacomb, "it is; and there's a good many of the +trees is evergreens, so the shade never goes off. I do s'pose, if I +could keep the children more to home they wouldn't get nigh so brown as +they do; but if I was to run out in the lot and whip 'em home every +half hour they'd be back again afore I could count one. Now +Genevievy--she does stay round under the trees a good deal, but then +she's fond of flowers. She'll be real glad to see you Faith, and so'll +your mother"--and Mrs. Seacomb at last got her visiters into the +parlour. + +The parlour was as brown as the rest of the house. The visiters had not +time to remark more particularly; for their attention was claimed by a +tall girl of about Faith's age, with a loosely built, strong jointed +frame, in as marked contrast as possible to the clean outline and soft +angles of the other. She shook hands very cordially with Faith, but +made a reverence to the 'teacher.' + +"Won't you take a chair, sir," she said, setting one for the gentleman. +"Aint it an age since we've looked at you, Faith! Your mother's been +here a long spell. Ma' was proud to see her come it. You haint been +here, seems to me, ever before!" + +"How do you do, Genevieve?" + +"I'm respectable well. Can't do nothin' uncommon, you know, down in +this 'eclusion. I guess it's as good to see company as blackberries. We +don't get it though.--I hope you don't mind a lonely sitiwation, sir?" +The last words with deep gravity and a bending head. + +"It agrees well with a contemplative mind," replied the gentleman, +resolving that the young lady should not talk 'high english' alone. + +"It does!" said Genevieve admiringly, taking him all in with her eyes. +"There is always something to look at to make you contemplate.--Then +you don't think it an objection, sir, to live so far away from society +as this?" + +"I have lived further away from society than this," said Mr. Linden. "I +have seen regions of country, Miss Seacomb, where you could not even +hear of anybody but yourself." + +"I declare!--And war' n't it awful still, sir?" + +"It was beautiful, still," said Mr. Linden. + +"I reckon it was!" + +At this juncture Charles twelfth made his appearance, and Mr. Linden at +once turned to him-- + +"Well sir--how are the Turks?" + +To which Charles twelfth, being taken much by surprise, replied, + +"They're pretty well." + +"Genevievy," said her mother, "if you'll make yourself agreeable, I'll +go hurry tea afore the rest of the children comes. They _will_ all come +to table, and there's so many." And Mrs. Derrick as in duty bound, +followed her to help. + +"I'll go tell 'em!" said Charles twelfth as Mrs. Seacomb went out. + +"No you will not"--said Mr. Linden,--"you will not go out of the house +again till I give you leave. Why don't you come to Sunday school and +learn to behave yourself?" + +"What else?"--said Charles twelfth. + +"What else!" said Mr. Linden,--"that will take you some time. +Afterwards you will learn all the lessons your teacher gives you." + +"Who'll he be?" said Charles twelfth coming a little nearer. "You?" + +"No indeed," said Mr. Linden, "I have quite enough to do now. I dare +say this lady will take you into her class--if you ask her politely." + +It was worth while to see Faith's face now, for the little stir and the +flush and the sweet gravity that was in it. Not so much as a glance +went to Mr. Linden, but leaning forward towards the young enemy of +Peter the Great, she said in her sweet tones, + +"Will you come?" + +Charles twelfth looked up at her rather earnestly, though his finger +was in his mouth the while; and then having ended his scrutiny gave a +grave little nod of assent, and moved round and stood at her side. + +"Look here," said Faith,--"don't you want to shew me how the sunflowers +grow in your garden?" + +"They bain't mine--" said Charles twelfth.--"I'll shew you my house--if +he'll let me go." + +That difficulty being got over, Charles twelfth trotted out of the +front door, and on through the long grass, to a remarkable edifice of +clam shells, broken earthenware, moss and corn cobs, which was situated +close by the fence. Faith commented and asked questions, till she had +made herself slightly familiar to the young woodsman's mind; and then +it was agreed that he should come Sunday morning bright and early to +Mrs. Derrick's and he and Faith would go to Sunday school together. By +the time this arrangement was thoroughly entered into, the summons came +to tea. + +"Now do just set down and make yourselves at home," said Mrs. Seacomb, +"and eat as if you were home too. Faith," she added in a good sized +whisper--"I did like to forgot all about it!--and your mother could +have telled me, too, but you'll do just as well,--does he always take +cold pork and potatoes to his supper?" + +Faith's eyes involuntarily opened; then as the meaning of this appeal +broke upon her she answered with a very decided "No, ma'am." + +"'Cause we've got some handy," Mrs. Seacomb said. "Now Mr. Simpson, he +staid with us a spell, and he couldn't do without it--if I had pound +cake and plum cake and mince pie for supper, it made no differ--and if +there warn't but one cold potato in the house it made none either; he +wanted that just the same. To be sure he was easy suited. And I didn't +know but all school teachers was the same way. I never had much +experience of 'em. Genevievy--just lock the front door and then the +children can't get in,--the back door is locked. I do take to peace and +quiet!" + +"Is Charles twelfth much like his brothers and sisters, ma'am?" said +Mr. Linden. + +"Well no--" said Mrs. Seacomb, dealing out blackberry jam,--"he always +was an uncommon child. The rest's all real 'sponsible, but there's none +of 'em alike but Americus Vespucus.--It's fresh, Faith--the children +picked the blackberries in Captain Samp's lot.--Charles twelfth does +act sometimes as if he was helped. I thought he took a turn awhile ago, +to behave like the rest--but he's reacted." And having emptied the dish +of jam Mrs. Seacomb began upon the cheese. + +"Which is Americus?" said Faith. "Is he older or younger than Charles +twelfth Mrs. Seacomb?" + +"Well he's older," said Mrs. Seacomb;--"_that's_ him," she added, as a +loud rattling of the back door was followed in an incredibly short +space of time by a similar rattling at the front, after which came the +clatter of various sticks and clods at the window. + +"I guess you won't care about seein' him nearer," said Mrs. Seacomb, +stirring her tea composedly. "Only don't nobody open the door--I do +love peace and quiet. They won't break the window, 'cause they know +they'd catch it if they did." + +"Children _is_ a plague, I do s'pose," remarked Genevieve. "Is your tea +agreeable, sir?" + +Which question Mr. Linden waived by asking another, and the meal +proceeded with a peace and quietness which suited no ideas but Mrs. +Seacomb's. At last tea was over; the ladies put on their bonnets again, +and the old horse being roused from his meditations, the party set +forward on their pleasant way home. + +Doubly pleasant now, for the sun was just setting; the air was fresher, +and the glow of the sunset colours put a new 'glory' upon all the +colours of earth. And light and shadow made witching work of the woody +road as long as the glow lasted. Then the colours faded, the shadows +spread; grey gathered where orange and brown had been; that glory was +gone; and then it began to be shewn, little by little, as the blue also +changed for grey, that there is "another glory of the stars." And then +presently, above the trees that shaded Mrs. Seacomb's retreat, the moon +rose full and bright and laid her strips of silver under the horse's +feet. + +Were they all exhausted with their afternoon's work? or was this +shifting scene of colour and glory enough to busy their minds? Mr. +Linden found his way along the road silently, and the two ladies, +behind him seemed each to be wrapped in her own thoughts; and moonlight +and star light favoured that, and so on they jogged between the shadowy +walls of trees tipped and shimmering with light, and over those strips +of silver on the road. Out of the woods at last, on the broad, full-lit +highway; past one farm and house after another, lights twinkling at +them from the windows; and then their own door with its moon-lit porch. + +The old horse would stand, no fear; the reins were thrown over his +back, and the three went in together. As Mrs. Derrick passed on first +and the others were left behind in the doorway, Faith turned and held +out her hand. + +"Thank you, Mr. Linden!"--she said softly. + +He took the hand, and inquired gravely, "whether she was taking leave +of him for the rest of his natural life?" + +Faith's mood had probably not been precisely a merry one when she +began; but her low laugh rung through the hall at that, and she ran in. + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + +Mr. Simlins stood on his doorstep and surveyed such portion of his fair +inheritance as his eye could reach from that point. Barns and outhouses +already in good order, Mr. Simlins favoured with a mental coat of +paint; fences were put up and gate-posts renewed, likewise in +imagination. Imagination went further, and passed from the stores of +yellow grain concealed by those yellow clapboards, to the yellow +stubble-fields whence they had come; so that on the whole Mr. Simlins +took rather a glowing view of things, considering that it was not yet +sunrise. The cloudless October sky above his head suggested only that +it would be a good day for digging potatoes,--the white frost upon the +ground made Mr. Simlins 'guess it was about time to be lookin' after +chestnuts.' The twitter of the robins brought to mind the cherries they +had stolen,--the exquisite careering of a hawk in the high blue ether, +spoke mournfully of a slaughtered chicken: the rising stir of the +morning wind said plainly as a wind could (in its elegant language) +that 'if it was goin' to blow at that rate, it would be plaguey rough +goin' after round clams.' With which reflection, Mr. Simlins turned +about and went in to his early breakfast of pork and potatoes,--only, +as he was not a 'teacher,' they were hot and not cold. + +Thus pleasantly engaged--discussing his breakfast,--Mr. Simlins was +informed by one of his 'help,' that a boy wanted to see him. Which was +no uncommon occurrence, for all the boys about Pattaquasset liked Mr. +Simlins. + +"Just as lieves see him as not," said Mr. Simlins--"if he don't want my +breakfast. Come in, there, you!"-- + +And Dromy Tuck presented himself. + +"'Early bird catches the worm,'" said Mr. Simlins. "Don't want my +breakfast, Dromy, do you?" + +"Had mine afore I started," replied Dromy. "But the thing's here. Mr. +Linden says as how we wants your nuts off o' them trees over to +Neanticut--and he says if you don't want 'em, why it'll fit, he says. +And if you do, why you may keep 'em that's all." + +"What's Mr. Linden goin' to do with the nuts, s'pos'n he gets 'em?" + +"_He_ aint agoin' to get 'em," said Droiny--"it's us;--us and him. You +see we did somethin' to please him, and so now he said as how he'd like +to do somethin' to please us, if he only knowed what it was. And there +wa'n't a boy of the hull on 'em as didn't say he'd rather go after nuts +than any other livin' thing whatsomedever." + +"And now I s'pose you're askin' for them particular nuts to please me. +It's a round game we're on," said Mr. Simlins. "How're you goin' to get +to Neanticut? same way Jack went up his bean?--won't pay." + +"He didn't tell--" said Dromy. "He don't say everything to oncet, +commonly." + +"When 'you goin'?" + +"Don' know, sir. Mr. Linden said as how we'd better go afore the nuts +did. And Saturday aint fur off." + +"Saturday--well! You tell Mr. Linden, if he'll send Reuben Taylor here +Saturday morning, he can take the big wagon; it'll hold the hull on ye, +and I guess I'll do without the team; and if he wants to go into the +old house and make a fire in case you want something to eat afore you +get home, there's not a soul in it and no wood nother--but you can pick +it up; and I'll give Reuben the key. Now don't you splice the two ends +o' that together by the way." + +Great was the stir in a certain stratum of Pattaquasset that day! Many +and startling were the demands for pies, cheese, and gingerbread, to be +answered on the ensuing Saturday. Those good housewives who had no boys +at school or elsewhere, thought it must be 'real good fun' to help them +get ready for such a frolic,--those who _had_ boys--wished they had +none! As to the rest, the disturbance spread a little (as disturbances +are wont) from its proper sphere of action. Two boys even invaded Mrs. +Derrick's peaceful dwelling, and called down Faith from conquering +Peru. These were Reuben Taylor and Joe Deacon; for Joe with a slight +variation of the popular adage, considered that 'once a scholar, always +a scholar.' Reuben seemed inclined on his part to leave the present +business in Joe's hands, but a sharp nudge from that young gentleman's +elbow admonished him not only to speak but to speak quickly. Reuben +modestly preferred his modest request, guiltless of any but the most +innocent arrangement of his words. + +"We boys are all going over to Neanticut nutting, next Saturday, Miss +Faith," he said, "and we thought as Mr. Linden was going, maybe you'd +like to go too--and we'd all enjoy it a great deal more." + +"There ain't room in the wagon," put in Joe--"but I s'pose you kin fix +that." + +"Joe!" said Reuben flushing up. "There's plenty of room, Miss +Faith--there isn't one of us that wouldn't find it, somehow. I could +walk easy enough, I know that." + +Faith flushed up too on her part a little, unconsciously; and asked who +else was going. + +"Sam _aint_"--said Joe, as if that was all he cared about. + +"Only the boys, Miss Faith," said Reuben with another glance at his +comrade. "But it's a pretty place over there,--and so's the ride. +There's room for Mrs. Derrick too if she'd like it," Reuben added,--"I +suppose we shall be gone all day." + +"It's very good of you to come and ask me, both of you," said Faith, +evidently in perplexity;--"and I should like to go dearly if I can, +Reuben--but I am afraid I can't. I am glad if the wagon's big enough to +hold you all without me. You'll have a great time." + +"You may say that!" said Joe--while Reuben looked down, disappointed. + +"We didn't know whether you would," he said--"but Mr. Linden said you +wouldn't be displeased at our asking. We asked him first, Miss +Faith--or we shouldn't have made so free. And you shall have some of +the nuts, anyway!" + +A little cheered with which view of the subject, Reuben made his bow, +and Joe Deacon whistled after him out of the gate. + +Faith looked after them, disappointed too. There was a grave set of the +lines of her mouth, and it was with rather a thoughtful face that she +looked down the road for a minute. Then remembering the volume of +Prescott in her hand, which her finger still kept open, she went up +stairs again and set herself down to finish her treasure. Faith's +reading-place, it must be known, was no other than a deep window-seat +in Mr. Linden's room. That was a large, old-fashioned room, as has been +said, with brown wainscottings and corner and window cupboards; and +having on two sides a pleasant exposure, the light generally made it a +winsome place to look at. Now, in this October weather, it came in +mellow and golden from a softened sun and changing foliage; the brown +wood and white walls and dark old furniture and rich bindings of books, +all mingled in the sunlight to make a rich sunny picture. + +There were pictures outside too and pleasant ones. From the south +window, straight down the street, the houses and trees and the brown +spire of the Methodist church stretched away--roofs and gable ends and +the enormous tufty heads of the elm trees that half hung over them. At +the back of these houses, the eye went uninterruptedly over meadows and +fields to the belt of woods which skirted at a little distance the line +of the shore from the Lighthouse to Barley Point--here and there a +break through which a schooner might be seen standing up or down the +Sound; elsewhere only its topsails might be discerned above the woods. +The western window took in the break where Barley Point lay; and +further on in the southwest a distant glimpse of the Sound, with the +little brown line of Monongatesak Point. The lane leading to the shore +ran off due west, with houses, gardens, orchards, bordering it and +spotting the country generally. A fair country--level and rich--all the +range west and northwest was uninterrupted smooth fields; the eye had +full sweep to the wide horizon; the dotting of trees, barns and houses, +only enriched it, giving the sweet air of peaceful and happy occupation. + +Faith's place was the deep low sill, or seat, of that western window. +There often Faith's book rested, while on the floor before it the +reader sat. This time the book was near finished, and a few more leaves +turned over changed the 'near' into 'quite.' Faith stood then +considering the books. The name of Prescott on another volume had +tempted her, for she had taken it down and considered the title page; +before settling to it, Faith laid her hand on one of another set not +yet much examined; a set of particular outside beauty. But what was the +inside? For Faith stood by the cupboard door, not looking here and +there, but leaf by leaf walking into the middle of the book. Faith +rested the volume on the shelf and turned over more leaves; and at last +dropped down by her window seat, laid the book there, put her cheek on +her hand as usual, a cheek already flushed, and lost herself in the +very beams of the afternoon sun. + +It might have been a dream, it might have been a vision (only that +_vision_ it was not)--it might have been reality; wrapped up in her +book, what should Faith know? Yet when some crisis was turned over with +the leaf, and the real world began to supplant the unreal, Faith +started up and looked round. Had she heard a step? a rustling of paper +on the table? The door was firmly shut, the shadowy corner near by had +lost the sunbeams, but was else unchanged; the table looked just as +before--unless--Had there been a letter lying there when she came +in?--Faith never could tell. + +The door opened now, however, and Mrs. Derrick entered--peering in +somewhat anxiously. + +"Why here you are, pretty child!" she said, "I began to think you were +lost! Mrs. Somers has been here, and so's Miss Harrison, and they +wanted to see you ever so much. I don't think that's a good cheese we +cut last night, Faith,--I guess I'll cut another." + +Faith was an image of innocent guilt; and without daring to ask if it +was tea-time, she ran down stairs. Her mother followed and stood by, +not with any thought of overseeing but for the pleasure thereof. + +"Well child," she said, "are you learning all the world up? What's in +the oven now?" + +"Don't you think that is good?"-- + +The question had reference to the freshly cut cheese, of which Faith +presented her mother with a small morsel. Mrs. Derrick +tasted--critically, but the first topic was the most interesting. + +"What's made your cheeks burn?" she said laying her hand softly against +the rose-colour. "If you're going to study yourself into a fever, +Faith, _I_'m not going to stand by and see it." + +"No fear, mother. I forgot myself. Is Mr. Linden come in?" + +"He must be--he always is by this time. Miss Harrison says the Doctor's +got back, Faith." + +Faith took up her cheese and walked in with it. The tea-table stood +alone. But the tea hour being come, and Mr. Linden known to be surely +there within five minutes of the tea hour, the tea was made--and not a +minute too soon. + +Faith was not on this occasion talkative, nor anybody else. The meal +proceeded rather silently. Spoons spoke in low tones, knives made +themselves busy; and Cindy put her head in at the door and withdrew it +with the mental ejaculation, + +"My! if they baint settin' there yet!" + +At this point Mr. Linden spoke. "And so, Miss Faith, you have no fancy +for nuts to crack?" + +Faith flushed a little and hesitated. + +"I didn't say so, Mr. Linden." + +"Have you any dislike to Neanticut?" + +"Not the least," she said laughing. + +"I dare not go further, and inquire as to the company. Don't you know +how to drive, Miss Faith?" + +"And what if I do?" said Faith. + +"Is there any insuperable objection to your driving Mrs. Derrick over +to Neanticut Saturday morning? It would be so comfortable to know there +were people there--and fires--in case it was a cold morning," said Mr. +Linden demurely. "I could send Reuben with you, and the key." + +"O that's good!" cried Faith clapping her hands. "Mother, will you go?" + +"Why don't I always, just where you want me to, child?" said her +mother. "I should like to go to Neanticut, besides. I haven't been +there this long while. But I guess you and I can open the house, Faith, +without Reuben Taylor." + +"After all, Mr. Linden," said Faith, "there is a great objection to my +driving mother over there,--because she'll drive me." + +"There is a great objection to your opening the house--for Reuben has +the key--or will have it; and keys you know, are matters of trust, and +not transferable. I don't know but Mr. Simlins would make an exception +in your favour,--but I shall not ask him." + +"I am glad to have Reuben along," said Faith. "And I suppose we must +take our dinner with us, Mr. Linden?" + +"I have no doubt there will be dinner enough from other quarters," he +answered, "but how much of it will be like Mrs. Seacomb's tea I cannot +say. I think it would be safe to take a very little basket--such as +would suffice for two ladies." + +"O with Reuben we can manage nicely," said Faith joyously. He looked at +her--pleased with her pleasure. + +"Don't make any grand preparation for me," he said,--"you know I must +eat in commons--for the same reason that I cannot offer to drive you +over." + +"Does that mean that you will have to take a piece out of everybody's +basket?" + +"As near as possible!" + +Faith shook her head, but made no further remark. + +Early Saturday morning, before any other steps had brushed the dew from +the grassy roadside, Reuben Taylor was on his way from the rocky coast +point where he lived to the smooth well-ordered abode of Mr. Simlins. +Receiving from that gentleman the key of the old house at Neanticut, +and having harnessed the horses to the big wagon under his special +directions, Reuben drove down to the village, put horses and wagon in +safe keeping, and reported himself at Mrs. Derrick's. All things there +being in readiness, that small turn-out was soon on its way; leaving +Mr. Linden to look after his own much larger consignment. And despite +the presence of Reuben Mrs. Derrick chose to drive; because, as she +said, "when she had the reins in her own hands, she knew which way the +horse was going." + +The road for awhile went on towards Mrs. Seacomb's, but passing the +turn into the woods kept on its uneven way to the ferry. The natural +hedges--all glittering with dew--shewed little colour but in the +leaves. The fair clethra and the sweet clematis had ended their short +reign and were gone, and high-coloured sumachs flamed out in +insurrection. Now the country became more hilly, and where the eastern +portion of Pattaquasset lay close upon the Mong, the road went down by +a succession of steep pitches to its shore Then the road ran on through +a sort of half drained marsh--varied in its course by holes and logs +and a little bridge, and then they were at the ferry. + +Now the ferry between Pattaquasset and Neanticut was--and is, as I +trust it will always be--propelled by wind power. No plodding horses to +distract one's eyes from the surrounding peace,--no puffing steam to +break with its discord the sweet rush of the water,--but a large, +flat-bottomed boat, a white sail, and a Yankee steersman. The only evil +attendant upon these advantages is, that the establishment cannot be +upon both sides at once--and that the steersman, like other mortals, +must take his dinner. This time it happened to be breakfast; for having +been much interrupted and called for at the hour when he should have +taken that refreshment, long Tim declared "he would have it now, and no +mistake!" The little fact that two ladies were waiting for him on the +other side, did not in the least affect his appetite or his +deliberation. + +"Faith," said her mother when they had waited about a quarter of an +hour, "if 'tother wagon should catch up we shouldn't get there first!" + +Faith laughed and said, "Well, mother!" + +"Well, child," said her mother cheerfully, while Reuben waved fresh +signals to the obdurate ferryman, "I'm sure I don't mind, if you don't." + +"He's coming out now!" said Reuben,--"or his wife is--and that's just +as good." + +And so it appeared; for a short vision of a red petticoat and blue +jacket on the other bank, was followed by the ferryman himself,--the +white sail rose up above the little boat, and she floated smoothly +over. Then Mrs. Derrick drove carefully across the boat bridge, and +long Tim pushed off into the stream. How pretty it was! the winding +river above, with its woody banks, and villages, and spires; and its +broader bends below, towards the Sound. They were about midway in the +stream when Reuben suddenly cried out-- + +"Look, Miss Faith!"-- + +And there came the great wagon, at not the slowest possible rate, over +the long marsh road. + +The first sight of the ferryboat and her freight was the signal for a +simultaneous shout from the whole wagon load--which long Tim took for a +summons to himself. + +"'Taint no sort o' use hollerin' like _that_," he said, with a little +turn of his steering oar; "'cause I aint a goin' back till I get +somewheres to go back _from_--nor then neither mabbe. I kin count +dollars whar they kint count cents, neow." + +And 'neow' the little wagon was beyond pursuit,--up the hill from the +ferry, on over the farm road, drove Mrs. Derrick--somewhat at the +quickest; until the old untenanted house rose just before them, and +Reuben sprang down to take the reins and help the ladies out. + +It was a pleasant old farmhouse that, in spite of its deserted +condition. They went to the kitchen, bright with windows looking out to +grass fields and trees. Mrs. Derrick stood at open door and window, +recalling scenes and people she remembered there, or watching for the +big wagon to make its appearance; while Reuben and Faith went to the +outhouses, and finally by dint of perseverance found a supply of wood +in an old rotten tumbled-down fence. Mrs. Derrick proclaimed that the +wagon was coming, as the foragers returned; but there was a splendid +blaze going up chimney before the aforesaid conveyance drew up at the +door, and the whole first party turned out to see it unload. + +The wagon was unloaded in the twinkling of an eye; then came rummaging +for baskets; then so many boys and so many baskets hopped and hummed +round, like a little bevy of wasps--with nothing at least of the bee +business-character about them. + +"Mr. Linden, be we going to stop here?"-- + +"Is here where the trees be, Mr. Linden?"-- + +"Mr. Linden, Joe Deacon aint behaving nohow!" + +"Mr. Linden, will we leave our baskets and come back to the house? or +will they be to go along?"--inquired a more sober tongue. + +While others were giving their opinion in little asides that it was +'prime'--and 'fust-rate'--and arguing the comparative promise of +chestnut and hickory trees. And one of the bigger boys of the party, +_not_ distinguished for his general good qualities, sidling up to +Reuben, accosted him under breath with a sly, + +"So you druv Mr. Linden's sweetheart. Aint you spry!" + +If Reuben had been in that line, he would probably have sent the +offender head first down the bank,--as it was, he said quietly, + +"I wouldn't let Mr. Linden hear me say that, Phil, if I was you." + +"Don't mean ter. Aint you great! But I say,--Joe Deacon says you did." + +"Joe Deacon's made a mistake for once in his life," said Reuben rather +contemptuously--"and it isn't the first, by several." + +"Reuben," said Mr. Linden approaching the group, "you may all go and +find where the best trees are, and then come back and report to me. I +put you in charge. Understand"--he added, raising his voice a little, +"Reuben Taylor is leader of the search--whoever does not obey his +orders, does not obey mine."--And in a minute the courtyard was clear. +Then Mr. Linden turned and walked up to the house. + +"Now what are you ladies going to do with yourselves?" he said. "Will +you come out and sit under the trees and look on--taking the chance of +being hit by a stray nut now and then?" + +"We can't go wrong to-day," said Faith, with whom the spirit of +enjoyment was well at play. "When mother feels in the mood of it we'll +come. We can find you--we know where to look. Weren't you obliged to us +for doing the waiting at the ferry?" + +"And for looking so picturesque in the distance,--it was quite a thing +to be grateful for. I think you will have no difficulty in finding +where we are--there will be noise enough to guide you. I hope you have +not brought a book along, Miss Faith." + +"Why, Mr. Linden?" + +"The 'running' brooks are good letter-press," he said--"and the grey +stones, and that white oak in the meadow. And is not that woodpecker a +pretty illustration?" + +"I have looked at them often," said Faith. "I don't know how to _read_ +them as you do. There isn't any brook here, though, that I know of, but +Kildeer river. You'll like Neanticut, Mr. Linden. I'm so glad you let +us come. I'll read everything--that I can." + +"I don't know how long everything'll last you, child--at the rate +you've gone on lately," said Mrs. Derrick who stood in the doorway. + +Faith smiled again, and shook her head a little at the same time as her +eye went from the woodpecker to the green leaves above his head, then +to the bright red of some pepperidge trees further off, to the lush +grass of the meadow, and on to the soft brownish, reddish, golden hues +of distant woodland. Her eye came back as from a book it would take +long to read thoroughly. + +"I am so glad it is such a day!" she repeated. + +"I see my boys are coming back," Mr. Linden said, with a smile which +hardly belonged to them,--"I must go and get their report. Au revoir, +Miss Faith." And he went forward into the midst of the little swarm--so +manageable in his hands, so sure to sting anybody else. + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick, looking over Faith's head from her more +elevated position of the door-sill (looking _at_ it too); "Child, why +don't you get--" and there, for the first and last time in her life, +Mrs. Derrick stopped short in the middle of a sentence. + +"What, mother?" + +But Mrs. Derrick replied not. + +"What do you want me to get, mother?" + +"I don't know as I want you to get anything,--child you've got enough +now for me. Not that he wouldn't like it, either," said Mrs. Derrick +musingly--"because if he wouldn't, _I_ wouldn't give much for him. But +I guess it's just as well not." And Mrs Derrick stroked her hand fondly +over Faith's head, and told her that if she stood out there without a +bonnet she would get sunburnt. + +"But mother!" said Faith at this enigmatical speech, "what do you mean? +_Who_ wouldn't like _what?_" + +"What does it signify, child?--since I didn't say it?" + +"But mother," persisted Faith gently, "what had I better get that I +haven't?" + +"I don't know as you _had_ better get it, child--and I never said he +wouldn't like it, I'm sure," said Mrs. Derrick with a little +self-vindication. + +"Who, mother?" + +"Why--nobody," said Mrs. Derrick,--"who's talking of anybody?" + +"Dear mother," said Faith, "don't you mean to tell me what you mean?" + +"I guess it's just as well not," her mother repeated. "The fact that +he'd like it don't prove anything." + +Faith looked at her, coloured a little, laughed a little, and gave up +the point. + +The morning passed on its pleasant way in quietness; at least with the +old farmhouse and its two occupants. Mrs. Derrick was not without her +knitting, and having come from the door sat comfortably click-clacking +her needles together--and her thoughts too perhaps--before the cheerful +blaze of the fence sticks. Faith _had_ a book with her--a little +one--with which she sat in the kitchen doorway, which looked towards +the direction the nut party had taken; and apparently divided her +attention between that volume and the one Mr. Linden had recommended. +For she looked down at the one and looked off at the other by turns, in +a sort of peaceful musing and note-taking, altogether suited to the +October stillness and beauty. Now and then she got up to replenish the +fire. And then the beauty and her musing got the better of the reading, +and Faith sat with her book in her hand, looking out into the +dream-provoking atmosphere. No sound came from the far-off nut trees; +the crickets and grasshoppers and katydids alone broke the stillness of +the unused farm. Only they moved, and the wind-stirred leaves, and the +slow-creeping shadows. + +When these last were but an hour's length from the tree stems, Faith +proposed an adjournment to the nut trees before the party should come +back to lunch. The fire was mended, the pot of coffee put on to warm; +and they locked the door and set out. + +It was not hot that day, even under the meridian sun. They crossed an +orchard, and one or two farm fields, on the skirts of which grew single +trees of great beauty. White oaks that had seen hundreds of years, yet +stood in as fresh and hale green youth as the upstart of twenty; +sometimes a hemlock or a white pine stretching its lithe branches far +and wide and generously allowed to do so in despite of pasture and +crops. Then came broken ground, and beyond this a strip of fallow at +the further border of which stood a continuous wall of woodland, being +in fact the crest of the bank of the little river Faith had referred to. + +And now, and truly for one or two fields before, the shouts and cries +of the nut-hunters rang through the air. For just edging, and edging +into, the border of trees last spoken of, were the great chestnuts and +hickories; and underneath and among them many little dark spots were +flying about; which spots, as Mrs. Derrick and Faith came up, enlarged +into the familiar outlines of boys' caps, jackets, and trowsers, and +ran about on two legs apiece. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +The two ladies paused at a safe distance,--there seemed to be nothing +but boys astir--boys and nuts; and these last not dropping from the +tree, but thrown from hand to hand (hand to head would be more correct) +of the busy throng. Some picking up, some throwing stones to bring +down, others at some flat stone 'shucking,' others still filling their +baskets. And four boys out of five, cracking and eating--whatever else +they were about. The grass, trodden down by the many feet, lay in +prostrate shadow at the foot of the great tree; and the shadows of +other trees fell and met in soft wavy outline. From the side of one old +tree a family of grey squirrels looked out, to see the besiegers lay +waste the surrounding country; in the top of another--a tall hickory, +full clad with golden leaves, Mr. Linden sat--to view the same country +himself; well knowing that he had given the boys full occupation for at +least fifteen minutes. He was not very visible from below, so thickly +did the gold leaves close him in; but Faith heard one of the boys call +out, + +"You Johnny Fax! if you throw stones in _that_ tree, you'll hit Mr. +Linden." + +"Trust Johnny Fax for not never throwin' so high as _he_ is," said Joe +Deacon. + +"I don't _want_ to--" said Johnny Fax--"I don't want to fetch _him_ +down." + +Whereupon there was a general shout, and "Guess you'd better not, +Johnny!"--"He might come, if you didn't just hit him," vociferated from +various quarters. + +"My!" Mrs. Derrick said, surveying the golden hickory, "how on earth +did he ever get up?--And how _do_ you s'pose, Faith, he'll ever get +down!" + +Faith's low laugh was her only answer; but it would have told, to +anybody who could thoroughly have translated it, Faith's mind on both +points. + +Apparently he was in no haste to come down--certainly meant to send the +nuts first; for a sudden shower of hickory nuts and leaves swept away +every boy from the tree near which Faith and her mother stood, and +threw them all into its vortex. Drop, drop, the nuts came down, with +their sweet patter upon the grass; while the golden leaves fell singly +or in sprays, or floated off upon the calm air. + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick, "how pretty it is! I haven't seen such a +sight since--since a long while ago," she added with a sobering face. + +"I want to be there under the tree," said Faith looking on enviously. +"No mother--and I haven't seen it before in a long time, either. It's +as pretty as it can be!" + +"Run along then, child," said her mother,--"only take care of your +eyes. Why shouldn't you? I don't want to pick up nuts myself, but I'll +go down and pick you up." + +Faith however kept away from the crowd under the hickory tree; and went +peering about under some others where the ground was beaten and the +branches had been, and soon found enough spoil to be hammering away +with a stone on a rock like the rest. But she couldn't escape the boys +so, for little runners came to her constantly. One brought a handful of +nuts, another a better stone--while a third told her of 'lots' under +the other tree; and Reuben Taylor was ready to crack or climb as she +chose to direct. + +"If you'll come down the other side, Miss. Faith," said Reuben, "down +by the bank, you could see it all a great deal better." + +Faith seized two or three nuts and jumped up, and Reuben led the way +through the leaf-strewn grass to the other side of the mob. But mobs +are uncertain things! No sooner was Faith seen approaching the hickory, +though yet full three feet from the utmost bound of its shadow, than a +sudden pause in the great business of the day was followed by such a +tumultuous shout of "Three cheers for Miss Faith Derrick!--the +prettiest girl in Pattaquasset!"--that she was well nigh deafened. And +promptly upon that, Joe Deacon stepped up to Reuben and whispered, + +"_That_'ll fetch him down!" + +Faith did not hear the words--she only heard Reuben's indignant, + +"Joe Deacon! behave yourself. What makes you always leave your manners +home? that big basket of yours would have held 'em all, easy." + +"I didn't know but Sam might want 'em," replied the unabashed Joe, +dashing back into the midst of his compardons, while Reuben at last +reached the pretty look-out at the edge of the woods where Faith could +see the whole meadow and its scattered trees. And having placed her +there ran off again. Standing half hidden by the oaks and chestnuts, +she could see the whole group clustering about the climber now, for he +had come down from his high post. + +"Boys," he said, "I am going back to the house to dinner. Any boy who +prefers nuts to dinner may stay and pick them up." + +A sudden recollection came over Faith that her fire was probably well +down and coffee not in a state presentable. Taking a survey of the +ground, and calculating that so large a company would want a little +time to get under weigh, she slipped round to where her mother sat, and +giving her a word, set off fleetly and skilfully under cover of some +outstanding chestnuts across the fallow. If she had known it, Faith +need not have shunned to shew her running, for prettier running could +not be. She was soon hidden in the further woodland. + +The rest of the party took it more leisurely, so their outrunner easily +gained her point; and having put the fire in order stood at the door to +watch the progress of the coming invasion. It looked enough like that. +For though excellent order of march had been kept for most of the way, +the main body of the troops maintaining a proper position in the rear +of their captain who was quietly escorting Mrs. Derrick over the +meadows, no sooner did the whole band come in sight of the distant +place of lunch baskets, than it became manifest for the hundred +thousandth lime that liberty too long enjoyed leads to license. +Scattering a little from the direct line of march, the better to cover +their purpose or evade any check thereto, as if by concert, first one +and then another set off on a run,--sprang the orchard fence,--and by +the time the mid-orchard was reached all of Mr. Linden's force with the +exception of one or two of the very steadiest, were ahead of him and +straining in full run, if not in full cry, for the now near-at-hand +farmhouse quarry. Beyond all call or hindrance. Standing at the kitchen +door, Faith watched their coming; but discerning beyond the runners the +one or two figures that did not indeed 'bring up the rear' but that +covered it, and supposing that the invaders' object was to storm the +wagon in which the lunch baskets were hid, she stood her ground; till +she perceived that the foremost of the band were making straight for +the kitchen door, and all the rest in their order. Faith gave back a +little and the whole horde poured in. The fire was in a brisk blaze; +the table had nice white cups and naperies on it; the nose of the +coffee-pot was steaming. It looked altogether an inviting place. Down +went hats and caps on the floor, from some of the party, and the whole +of them with flushed faces and open mouths took the survey. + +"Ain't it jolly here!" + +"I wonder if he'll let us take our dinner in here. There's lots o' +room." + +"It's good shady." + +"It's a long sight better under the trees." + +"Coffee!--I'm blessed!"--said a fifth speaker bending over the +fireplace; while a sixth began slyly to inspect what lay under Faith's +napkins on the table. + +"Charley," said Mr. Linden's quiet voice from the doorway, "did Miss +Derrick desire you to uncover her dishes?" + +The hand slipped from what it touched, as stealthily the boy's eye went +to the face of the speaker, in the one place if not in the other 'to +see what there might be.' + +"I will bear witness that you have 'carried' the house," Mr. Linden +went on,--"now I should like to see you carry the wagon. It will be a +more useful enterprise than this. Only remember that one of the first +duties of a surprise party is to go forth softly." + +"Where will we carry the wagon to, sir?" inquired one of the party. + +"As far from the house as you can," said Mr. Linden, with a little +glance at Faith. "Come! be off!--great enterprises are never finished +till they are begun." + +"I'd like to begin dinner, anyhow," said one, catching up his cap and +leading off. + +As quick and more quick than it had been filled, the room was cleared; +and laughing Faith watched the busy swarm as they poured towards their +magazine. Then remembered her own and came back to offer it. + +"You may as well rest, Mr. Linden," said Faith as she offered him a cup +of coffee. "I'm sure _they_ are all comfortable. Besides, you +particularly desired a fire and somebody in the house, you know." + +"Miss Faith," he said, (taking the cup however) "I'm afraid your +notions of duty are very slack! What sort of a captain would you make +to a beleaguered city? I shall make you read the story of Catherine +Douglass." + +"Will you?" said Faith looking very pleased. "And what is +'beleaguered,' Mr. Linden? in the meantime." + +"'Beleaguered' means, to be beset with a swarm of invaders who want to +come in and ought to be kept out." + +"I didn't know I ought to keep them out," said Faith laughing, "or I'd +have done it." + +Mr. Linden shook his head doubtfully. "I saw you give way!" he +said,--"I doubt whether there was even a show of resistance. Now +Catherine Douglass--But I must go. No, don't tempt me with apple +pie--you have no idea of the pies in that wagon. Perhaps if I get +successfully through them, I'll come back and dispose of yours. What +are you reading to-day?--'Le Philosophe'?" + +A little soberness came over Faith's smile as she shook her head and +said no. + +"I can't stay to ask a question upon that--but I'll ask you two by and +by to pay for it." + +And he went out to that little cluster of life that hung about the +great wagon, making himself at once the centre of pleasure and interest +and even fun, as Faith's eye and ear now and then informed her. It was +pretty, the way they closed in about him--wild and untutored as they +were,--pretty to see him meet them so easily on their own ground, yet +always enticing them towards something better. Mrs Derrick thought so +too, for she stood in the doorway and smiled very pleasantly. + +"He's a real nice man, Faith," she said. "I don't wonder the boys like +him." + +Faith did not wonder at it, but she did not answer, though she too +stood looking. + +The ladies had finished their lunch, and Mr. Linden had perhaps _not_ +finished his, for he came in again to take another cup of coffee while +the boys were disposing of that very ragged piece of time which the end +of a boys' feast invariably is. So much peace and quietness he gave +himself, if he did not give himself a sandwich--of which I am not +certain. + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith, "I want to ask something--will you tell me if +you don't like it?" + +"Don't like to have you ask me, do you mean? I do like it." + +"Then," said Faith half laughing, "will you tell me it you don't quite +like what I mean?" + +"I'll see--" Mr. Linden replied with a smile. "It's not safe for +teachers to commit themselves." + +"But I must commit myself," said Faith. "I want to go and pick up nuts +with the boys under the trees--may I?" + +She looked for her answer with an eye that thought _he_ might possibly +find an objection where she saw none. + +He paused a little before he replied, + +"I think you may--if I could be among them and answer for their good +behaviour I should not need to think about it; but you know a man loses +power when he is too far above the heads of his audience. Yet I think I +may trust them--and you," he added with a little smile. "Especially as +the first tree touched this afternoon is yours." + +"What does that mean?" said Faith, her doubt all gone. + +"Do you think I shall so far forget my office as to let them pick up +nuts for nobody but themselves? Therefore the first tree this afternoon +is for you--or if you please for your mother; the second for Mr. +Simlins. If that will take away your desire for the 'fun,' why I cannot +help it." + +"I have no objection to pick up nuts for mother, not even for Mr. +Simlins," said Faith smiling. "And I am not afraid of the boys--I know +half of them, you know. Thank you, Mr. Linden!" + +"You might, if I could take you up into the tree-top. There is fine +reading on those upper shelves." + +Her eye shewed instantly that she liked that 'higher' fun best--not the +tree-top, verily, but the reading, that she could not get at. Yet for +Faith there were charms plenty below the tree-tops, in both kinds; and +she looked very happy. + +"Well"--Mr. Linden said, "as the successful meeting of one emergency +always helps us in the next, and as it is quite impossible to tell +_what_ you may meet under those nut trees,--let me give you a little +abstract of Catherine Douglass, before you read it and before I go. The +said lady wishing to keep the door against sundry lords and gentle men +who came with murderous intent against her sovereign; and finding no +bar to aid her loyal endeavours,--did boldly thrust her own arm through +the stanchions of the door. To be sure--'the brave lady's arm was soon +broken,'--but after all, what did that signify?" + +And with a laughing gesture of farewell, he once more left the house. +With which cessation of murmuring voices, Mrs. Derrick awoke from her +after dinner nap in the rocking chair. Faith was standing in the middle +of the floor, smiling and looking in a puzzle. + +"Mother, will you go over to the nutting again?" + +"I'm a great deal more likely to go to sleep again," said Mrs. Derrick +rubbing her eyes. "It's the sleepiest place I ever saw in my life--or +else it's having nothing to do. I don't doubt you're half asleep too, +Faith, only you won't own it." + +The decision was, that Mrs. Derrick preferred to sit quiet in the +house; she said she would maybe run down by and by and see what they +were at. So Faith took her sunbonnet, kissed her mother; and went forth +with light step over the meadow and through the orchard. + +The nutting party she found a little further on in the same edge of +woodland. It seemed that they had pitched upon a great chestnut for her +tree; and Faith was half concerned to see what a quantity of work they +had given themselves on her account. However, the proverb of 'many +hands' was verified here; the ground under the chestnut tree was like a +colony of ants, while in the capacious head of the tree their captain, +established quite at his ease, was whipping off the burrs with a long +pole. + +Faith took a general view as she came up, and then fell upon the +chestnut burrs like the rest of them; and no boy there worked more +readily or joyously. There seemed little justification of Mr. Linden's +doubts of the boys or fears for her. Faith was everywhere among them, +and making Reuben's prophecy true, that 'they would all enjoy +themselves a great deal better' for her being there; throwing nuts into +the baskets of the little boys and pleasant words at the heads of the +big ones, that hit softly and did gentle execution; giving sly handfuls +to Reuben, and then hammering out for some little fellow the burrs that +her hands were yet more unfit to deal with than his; and doing it all +with a will that the very spirit of enjoyment seemed to have moved. +_She_ in any danger of rude treatment from those boys! Nothing further +from the truth. And so her happy face informed Mr. Linden, when he at +last descended to terra firma out of the stripped chestnut tree. + +He did not say anything, but leaning up against the great brown trunk +of the chestnut took a pleased survey of the whole--then went to work +with the rest. + +"Boys!" he said--"aren't there enough of you to open these burrs as +fast as Miss Derrick can pick out the nuts? You should never let a lady +prick her fingers when you can prick yours in her place." + +There was a general shout and rush at this, which made Faith give way +before it. The burrs disappeared fast; the brown nuts gathered into an +immense heap. That tree was done. + +"Hurrah! for Mr. Simlins!" shouted all the boys, throwing up their caps +into the air,--then turning somersets, and wrestling, and rolling over +by way of further relief to their feelings. + +"The chestnut beyond that red maple for him," said Mr. Linden, flinging +a little stone in the right direction; at which with another shout the +little tornado swept away. + +"Will you follow, Miss Faith? or are you tired?" + +"No, I'm not tired yet. I must do something for Mr. Simlins." + +"Well don't handle those burrs--" he said. "They're worse than darning +needles." + +"Have you seen Kildeer river yet, Mr. Linden?" + +"I have had a bird's eye view." + +Faith looked a little wistfully, but only said, + +"We must look at it after the nutting is done. That's a bit of reading +hereabout you ought not to pass over." + +"I mean to read 'everything I can,' too," he said with a smile as they +reached the tree. + +"Now Mr. Linden," said Joe Deacon, "_this_ tree's a whapper! How long +you suppose it'll take you to go up?" + +"About as long as it would you to come down--every-one knows how long +_that_ would be. Stand out of my way, boys--catch all the burrs on your +own heads and don't let one fall on Miss Derrick." And amidst the +general laugh Mr. Linden swung himself up into the branches in a way +that made his words good; while Joe Deacon whistled and danced 'Yankee +Doodle' round the great trunk. + +Half at least of Mr. Linden's directions the boys obeyed;--they caught +all the burrs they well could, on their own heads. Faith was too busy +among them to avoid catching some on her own bright hair whenever her +sunbonnet declined to stay on, which happened frequently. The new +object lent this tree a new interest of its own, and boys being an +untiring species of animals the sport went on with no perceptible +flagging. But when this tree too was about half cleared, Faith withdrew +a little from the busy rush and bustle, left the chestnuts and chestnut +burrs, and sat down on the bank to rest and look. Her eye wandered to +the further woodland, softest of all in hazy veils; to the nearer +brilliant vegetation; the open fallow; the wood behind her, where the +trees closed in upon each other; oftenest of all, at the 'whapper' of a +tree in which Mr. Linden still kept his place, and at the happy busy +sight and sound of all under that tree. + +And so it happened, that when in time Mr. Linden came down out of Mr. +Simlins' chestnut, besides the boys he found nobody there but Mr. +Simlins himself. + +"Well!"--said that gentleman after a cordial grasp of the hand,--"I +reckon, in the matter of nuts you're going to reduce me to +penur'ousness! How you like Neanticut?" + +"It's a fine place," said Mr. Linden.--"And for the matter of nuts, you +need not take the benefit of the bankrupt act yet, Mr. Simlins." + +"Over here to see a man on business," Mr. Simlins went on in +explanation,--"and thought I'd look at you by the way. Don't you want +to take this farm of me?" + +"I might want to do it--and yet not be able," was the smiling reply; +while one of the smallest boys, pulling the tail of the grey coat which +Mr. Simlins wore 'on business,' and pointing to the heap of nuts, said +succinctly, + +"Them's yourn!" + +"Mine!" said Mr. Simlins. "Well where's yourn? What have you done with +Miss Faith Derrick?" + +"Why we hain't done nothin' to her," said the boy--"she's done a heap +to us." + +"What has she done to you, you green hickory?" + +"Why--she's run round, firstrate," said little Rob,--"and she's helped +me shuck." + +"So some o' you's thanked her. 'Twan't _you_. Here, you sir," said Mr. +Simlins, addressing this time Joe Deacon,--"what have you been doing +with Miss Faith Derrick?" + +"I bain't Sam," was Joe's rather cool rejoinder, with a slight +relapsing into Yankee Doodle. + +"Hollo!" said Mr. Simlins--"I thought you'd learned all school could +teach you, and give up to come?" + +"Only the last part is true, Mr. Simlins," said Mr. Linden, who while +Joe spoke had been himself speaking to one of the other boys. + +Mr. Simlins grunted. "School ain't all 'nuts to him,'" he said with a +grim smile. "Well which of you was it?--'twas a fellow about as big as +you here, you sir!"--addressing in a more assured tone another boy who +was swaggering near,--"_you!_ what have you been doing to Miss Faith? +It was you." + +"'Twan't me, nother!" said the boy surlily; "nor I hain't done nothin'! +but minded my own business." + +In a tone which implied that Mr. Simlins was not acting on the same +laudable principle. + +"What has been done?" said Mr. Linden. And certainly _his_ tone implied +that he was minding his own business. + +"Well," said Mr. Simlins, "I don't know as they've done much of +anything; but I guessed they'd been givin' her some sass or vexin' her +somehow; and as she's a kind o' favour_ite_ o' mine it riled me. I was +too fur to hear what 'twas." + +"Where was she? + +"She was round yonder--not fur--There had been some sort of a +scrimmage, I guess, between two of 'em, a little one and this fellow; +and she parted 'em. She had hold o' this one when I see 'em +first--_you_ couldn't have done it better," said Mr. Simlins with a sly +cast of his eye;--"you can set her to be your 'vice' when you want one. +I was comin' up from the river, you see, and came up behind 'em, and I +couldn't hear what they said; but when she let him go, I see her give a +kind o' sheer look round this way, and then she put up her hand to her +cheek and cleared for home like--a gazetteer!"--said Mr. Simlins, who +had given this information in an undertone. "Made straight tracks for +the house, I tell ye!" + +"A little one and _which_ one?" was the next inquiry. + +Mr. Simlins went peering about among the crowd and finally laid hold on +the identical shoulder of little Johnny Fax. + +"Ain't it you?" said Mr. Simlins. "Ain't that red basket yourn?" + +Johnny nodded. + +"I knowed the basket," said Mr. Simlins returning. "That's about all +that makes the difference between one boy and another! what sort of a +basket he carries. The other fellow is the one I was speakin' to +first--I can swear to _him_--the big one." + +Mr. Linden took out his watch. + +"Thank you, Mr. Simlins," he said. "Boys--it is half past four,--get +your nuts and baskets and bring them up to the house. Reuben Taylor--do +you see that it is done." With which words Mr. Linden also 'made +tracks' for the house--and 'straight' ones, but with not too much +notice-taking of the golden leaves under his feet. + +The truth about Faith was this. While sitting on the grass, taking the +pleasure of the place and time, the peace was at length broken by +discordant sounds in her neighbourhood; sounds of harsh voices, and +scuffling. Looking round for the cause and meaning of all this, she +found that the voices came from behind a thicket of sumach and laurel +at her back, and belonged to some of the boys. Faith went round the +thicket. There were a big boy and a little boy tugging at a casket, +both tugging; the little fellow holding to it with all his might, while +the big boy, almost getting it from him with one hand, was laying the +other very freely about his ears and shoulders. Faith heard the little +one say, "I'll tell--" + +And the other, a boy whose name Faith had learned only that morning, +shouted in answer, + +"You tell! You tell if you dare! You tell and I'll kill you!--Leave +hold!"-- + +A round blow was given with the words, which told, but the little boy +still held on to his basket. + +"For shame, Phil Davids! you a big boy!"--said Faith. + +There was a stay of proceedings while they looked at her, both parties +keeping fast hold however, and both tongues at once combating for +hearing and belief. The little boy, Johnny Fax himself, said the nuts +were his; which the elder denied. + +"Let him have his nuts, Phil," said Faith gently. "He must have +them--they belong to him." + +"He aint a goin' ter, though," said Davids,--"and _you_ can't do +nothin', if you air Mr. Linden's sweetheart. You air--Joe Deacon says +you be. Leave hold, you!"-- + +Thinking Faith quelled perhaps, Phil began the struggle again fiercely, +with grappling and blows. But Faith laid hold suddenly on the arm that +was rising the second time, and bade the boy sternly behave himself and +let the basket go. It was not immediately done. He had strength much +more than hers, but something withheld him from exerting it. Nothing +withheld his tongue. + +"Aint you Mr. Linden's sweetheart?" he said insolently. "Joe Deacon +says you be." + +"No sir!" said Faith; "and you are a bad boy." + +"Joe Deacon says you be!" + +But Faith did not relax her hold, and spoke with a steady voice and for +that time at least with a steady eye of command which was obeyed. + +"Let him go!--Johnny, run off with your basket and be quiet; that's a +good boy. Davids, you'll be quiet the rest of the day for your own +sake." + +The boys parted sullenly, Johnny to run off as she had bidden him; and +Faith turned from the green bank, the nut trees, and the frolic, and +laying one hand upon the cheek that faced that way, as if to hide its +burning from eyes too far off to see it, she went into the house. + +She put the brands together which had burnt out, and built the fire up +on the strictest principles, though no fire was wanted at present; the +day had mellowed into warmth. Perhaps Faith recollected that after she +had got through, for she left the fire to take care of itself and sat +down again on the doorstep looking towards the nut-tree field. For a +good while her cheek wore its troubled flush, her hand went up to it +once or twice as if to cool it off, and her brow bespoke her using +other and more effectual measures. It cooled at last, into complete +quietness and sweetness; and Faith's face was just like itself when the +first of the party came back from the nut field. + +That first one, as we have seen, was Mr. Linden. He found both the +ladies in the farmhouse kitchen; Mrs. Derrick very comfortably at her +knitting. Faith was doing nothing; but she looked up, when she looked +up, with just her own face; not certainly in the happy glow he had seen +under the nut tree, nor with the sparkle of busy pleasure it had worn +in the morning; but as it was every day at home. + +Mr. Linden arranged the fire and then stood considering it--or +something--for a minute in silence; until Mrs. Derrick inquired "if he +had found as much as he expected?"--but upon his replying somewhat +dryly, "Rather more"--the conversation dropped again. + +"You ought to be tired now, Mr. Linden," Faith said gently. + +"I am afraid you are." + +"No," she said,--"I am not at all." + +"Well then--why shouldn't we have our look at Kildeer river? You said +we must." + +"O, if you like it!" said Faith, a bright little tinge of pleasure +coming into her cheek, and her sunbonnet was in hand immediately. "But +aren't you tired?" she added doubtfully as they were passing out of the +door. "You've been hard at work." + +"You will have to pay for saying you are not, Miss Faith,--I mean to +make you run all the way down to the bank." + +And holding out his hand to her, Mr. Linden half made his threat good; +for though his own pace was not much more than a quick walk, by means +of skilful short cuts and long steps, Faith had a gentle little run a +good part of the way. Not down through the crowd of boys and baskets, +but skirting the meadow--passing from the shelter of one great tree to +another, till they reached the bank and saw the blue waters of Kildeer +river at their feet. There she was permitted to sit down and rest. A +little laughing and a little flushed, her happy look was almost brought +back again. But she sat and gazed down at the pretty stream and its +picturesque banks without saying anything; letting Mr. Linden take his +own view of them. His own view was a peculiar one--to judge by his +words. + +"Miss Faith, I suppose you are not much acquainted with law forms,--yet +you perhaps know that an important witness in an important case, is +sometimes put in prison until his evidence is obtained." + +Faith looked up at him in pure astonishment, the corners of her mouth +indicating that she expected another _puzzle_, or rather was already +engaged in one. The look made his gravity give way a little. + +"I thought you might like to know your position at present," he said. + +"I don't know it yet, Mr. Linden." + +"It is that of the unfortunate prisoner to whom I referred." + +"A prisoner!--" said Faith looking up at him very much amused. "Well, +Mr. Linden?" + +He looked amused too, yet with a difference. + +"Well, Miss Faith--You are a prisoner, for political purposes. There is +no practicable way for you to get back to the house save through the +witness-box." + +"Where is the witness-box?" said Faith. + +"Are you in a hurry to be in it?" + +"No," said Faith with a very unshadowed smile, "I am not in a hurry for +anything." + +"Then tell me what you have been reading to-day," he said, throwing +himself down on the grass beside her. + +She looked at him, hesitated, then said with a lowered tone, + +"I have been reading what you told me to read--and my testament." + +Mr. Linden lifted his hat a little, replaced it--rather more down over +his brows than before, looking steadily down at Kildeer river the while. + +"Why did you look grave when I asked you if you had brought 'Le +Philosophe'?" + +"I didn't know I did!" said Faith simply. "I had brought only my +testament." + +"Only--" Mr. Linden repeated. "Well, from 'only' a testament and only +such a scene--a skilful reader may get much." Then turning and looking +her full in the face, he said, "Miss Faith--what have those boys done +to vex you?" + +A sudden, painful, startled flush answered him. She did not look now; +she said earnestly, + +"Please Mr. Linden, don't speak of it!" + +"I must know--" was his only answer. + +"No," she said gently but troubled,--"you mustn't know, and there is no +need you should. There is no need," she repeated eagerly. + +"There is another true little witness I can call upon--but I would +rather have your account." + +"How did you know?--how did you know anything about it?" said Faith, +facing round upon him in her turn. + +"Gentlemen of what Miss Danforth is pleased to call 'my profession' +must know things occasionally," said Mr. Linden. + +"_What_ do you think you know, Mr. Linden?" she said a little timidly. + +His answer was gentle though resolute. + +"I don't _think_ I know anything. What I know, I know----what I do not, +I will." + +Faith's head half drooped for an instant, and the flush which had faded +came back painfully. Then she looked at him again, and though the flush +was there she spoke as usual. + +"You won't try, Mr. Linden--because I am going to ask you not. It is +nothing you need take up--it was nothing but--what perhaps I was +foolish to mind. I don't mind it now--much--" + +But there was a grave falling off in the tone of that much. She felt it +herself, for she rallied and said with her own quiet frank smile, + +"I shall not mind it at all to-morrow." + +Mr. Linden looked at her while she spoke, gravely and intently enough; +but then he looked away at the river again, and probably read problems +in its soft rippling waters, for he spoke not. Overhead a hawk sailed +noiselessly to and fro, on spread wings,--in the trees close at hand a +squirrel chattered and barked with his mouth full. The afternoon light +left Kildeer river step by step, and the shadows crept after. + +Now the one white speck of cloud reflected in that peaceful stream was +no break in its beauty,--it marred nothing, nay, even brought a little +glow of its own to replace the sunbeams. Yet at that speck did Mr. +Linden take aim--sending his pebble so surely, so powerfully, that the +mirror itself was shattered to the remotest shore! Then he stood up and +announced that it was time to go. + +Faith stood up, but stood still, and waited somewhat anxiously upon the +answer to her question. + +"Then, Mr. Linden, you will not speak of it any more?" + +"The witness is discharged," he answered lightly, and walking on. + +She sprang after and placed herself directly in his way. + +"Mr. Linden--please give me your promise!" + +He looked down at her with eyes that were a little moved. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "please give me yours!" + +"For what?" said Faith. + +"That you will trust me--and not ask what I do." + +"Yes,"--said Faith,--"but--You must trust _me_, Mr. Linden," she said +smiling at him,--"and believe me that this is nothing for you to take +up--mere nonsense;--nothing at all to-morrow,--it is nothing to me now. +I want your word." + +She wanted it very much, it was easy to see; but beyond that, her face +did not belie her words. + +"I don't suppose Mrs. Derrick ever called you 'naughty child'"--said +Mr. Linden,--"but if ever she did she might to-night. Look where the +sun is--and where I am,--and guess where those boys are! Come--" and it +was not easy to resist the hand that again took hold of hers, nor the +quick pace at which he went forward. + +And for some fields' length Faith yielded and went as fast as he +pleased. Then as he stopped to put up a bar-place she said again, very +gently but firmly too, standing before him, + +"Mr. Linden, I think I have a _right_ to ask this. I know what I ask, +but you do not." + +"I never questioned your right, Miss Faith." + +"Then you'll not deny it to me?" + +"What is your idea of trust?" said Mr. Linden, replacing the last bar. + +"That it is something I ought to have just now," said Faith, smiling a +little. + +He stood leaning on the bars and looking at her--a kind look, that she +might well trust. + +"Child," he said, "you don't know what you are talking about--and I do. +And if you will not trust me any further than you can see me, you don't +deserve to be called Miss Faith any longer! Now don't you think I have +a right to get home and attend to my duties?" + +She yielded utterly at that, but with a set of her lip which he had +never seen before; it was trembling. She was turning to go on, when as +if to make amends for that--or to ask forgiveness generally--or to give +assurance of the trust he had claimed,--she stretched out her hand to +him and went by his help again until the orchard was reached and other +eyes might be expected to be on the look-out for them. + +"Do you like to read letters written from other countries by people you +have never seen?" Mr. Linden said when they reached that point. + +Faith's eyes opened slightly as was their way when suddenly astonished, +and a little colour started too, of surprise or pleasure. + +"I never did read any," she said,--"I _should_ like it." + +"Well, Miss Faith, I think Mrs. Derrick and Reuben can manage that +brown horse--especially as he has had no oats to-day--and I want you to +take possession of the whole of the back seat, put yourself in a +comfortable position, and spend the rest of the daylight in Italy with +my sister. When it gets dark you may go to sleep. And here is the +talismanic paper by whose help you must make the journey." + +What a colour thanked him! what a rosy flush of pleasure and gratitude! +To _say_ 'thank you' Faith nearly forgot. But it was said. + +There was no more delay of any kind after that. Wagons were ready, and +baskets, and boys; also Mrs. Derrick; and Faith was ready first of all. +So the two parties, now getting under weigh, went fairly homewards, by +an evening sky and a night full of stars. Only one incident need be +recorded. + +The ferry was passed, and four of the six miles between that and the +central town of Pattaquasset, when Mr. Linden suddenly checked his +horses. Turning half round, and laying a pretty imperative hand on the +collar of Phil Davids, he dropped him outside the wagon--like a walnut +from its husk--remarking that he had seen enough of him for one day, +and did not wish to hear of him again till next morning. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +Little Charles twelfth did not come to meet his Sunday school teacher, +as had been arranged, the Sunday preceding the Neanticut expedition. +Faith waited for him in the morning--waited and hoped,--but was not +greatly surprised to find that she had waited in vain. Charles the +twelfth, whether or not he was to follow during life the erratic and +wilful course of his namesake, was that day at least not to be led by +her. So Faith went to church, meditating a sometime descent upon Mrs. +Seacomb's shady domain, there to meet and recapture the heart of her +little charge. For so he seemed to her now. But on her return from the +morning service, she found Charles the twelfth, crest-fallen and +repentant, in his turn waiting for her. The matter was, his brother +Americus Vespucius had shut him up, so that he couldn't come; and as +soon as he was set free Charles the twelfth had used his freedom and +his legs in 'making tracks,' to use Mr. Simlins' expression, for Mrs. +Derrick's abode; and on this occasion he had made many fewer 'tracks' +than the afternoon of his previously recorded invasion; as being +somewhat burdened in spirit he had stopped for no somersets, and had +been lured aside by no tempting invitations of a dusty place or a +mudpuddle. + +Faith heard his story gravely and sympathizingly; comforted him up; +encouraged him to hope that the discoverer of America would not prove +so adverse to _his_ making discoveries another Sunday; gave him a +little talk and a good dinner, and sent him home cheerful and +determined. The very mood for success; accordingly the next morning +after the return from Neanticut, being Sunday, Charles the twelfth +presented himself at the house in brave good time; and Faith and her +little charge, for the first time in their lives both of them, went to +Sunday school. The child very important and expectant; the teacher very +gentle and very grave indeed. + +Faith had made her arrangements the Sunday before; so she and Charles +twelfth proceeded at once to the place assigned her. At the opening +services the king of Sweden stared mightily. Faith looked at nothing. +She had a feeling that other children and other teachers were nearer to +her than she wished they were; and she was a little uncertain how best +to take hold of the odd little piece of humanity intrusted to her care. +However, when the reading and the singing were over Faith began a long +low talk to him about some Bible story, diverging as she went on to an +account of the other world, and the two ways that lead to it, and the +two sorts of people that travel them. And becoming exceedingly +interested herself, she fastened the eyes of Charles the twelfth in a +way that shewed his thoughts were cleaving to hers. Faith's own +thoughts were cleaving elsewhere. The things she said were simply said; +her words were the plainest; her illustrations just at his hand; but +the voice in which they were given would alone have won the ear of a +child; and whatever other impression her words made upon his mind, the +fixed conclusion in which he was left at the ending was, that whatever +way _she_ was travelling was the right one! + +It was a beautiful fair first of October; still and sunny; but if it +had not, it would probably have been a fair day to Faith after that +beginning of it. She looked as if it was, in the church, and on the way +home, and at the quiet dinner table; her face was a transcript of the +day; still and sunny. It seemed to be true, her promise that the +annoyance of yesterday would be nothing to her to-day. There was no +shadow of it in sight. If there was a shadow anywhere at the table, it +was upon Mrs. Derrick,--a half jealous fear that her child would be +less hers by becoming a Christian--a half uneasy feeling of the new +state of things, did cloud her heart a little, though almost unknown to +her self She would not have confessed to any such cloud--and +practically it was not there: no straw of hindrance did she put in +Faith's way; indeed she seemed rather fearful of touching the matter in +any wise. It was rather from curiosity than anything else, that she +said--as they were both getting ready for afternoon church, + +"Well child, how did you like going to Sunday school?" + +Faith's answer was subdued, but earnest. "I liked it very much, mother." + +"How many's in your class?" said Mrs. Derrick, tying her bonnet. + +"Only one yet--but that was enough for me to begin with.--I hope I +shall get some more soon." + +"Only one!" said Mrs. Derrick--"besides you, do you mean, child?" + +"Mother!"--said Faith. Then smiling she added, "Yes, mother--only one +besides me. That one is little Charley Seacomb--and I am trying to +teach him." + +"Why I thought you were in Mr. Linden's class!" said Mrs. Derrick, +facing round. + +But Faith's face flushed, and what was very uncommon with her, the +tears came too. + +"So I am, mother," she said;--"but I am one that he teaches at home. I +have learned all I know from him," she said, covering her eyes with +both hands. + +"Why child, hush!" said her mother softly--"I didn't mean to say +anything,--how should I know? So you're teaching Charley Seacomb, +hey?--well I'm sure he wants it bad enough. I guess I'd better go too, +next Sabbath,--it was real lonesome with you all gone. And that makes +me think, child--I wonder if you could go a little way for me after +meeting?" + +"Go to Sunday school, mother!" said Faith shewing her bright wet eyes. +"Will you teach some children, mother?" + +Written letters don't give the intonation of these words. + +"I guess they could teach me, some of 'em," said her mother. "But I +thought maybe, Faith, you'd take Sally Loundes some medicine--she sent +word for it, and I don't know as I can get so far to-day. Mr. Linden +does have a class, don't he?" + +"I can go just as well as not, and like it very much, mother. O yes--he +has a class of course--a class of some of the biggest boys--a large +class." + +"I wonder what _he_ does with himself after meeting," said Mrs. +Derrick. "Folks do say he goes strolling round, but I don't believe it." + +"Mother! Folks say everything, I believe. He knows what he does." + +"Maybe _you_ wouldn't like to be seen out on Sabbath?" said Mrs. +Derrick, with sudden thought. "Because if you wouldn't, Faith, I'll go +myself to Sally's--can or no can." + +"No, mother--" she said brightly,--"I would like to go. If I know I am +doing right, I don't mind about being seen. I wish people had as good +reason for telling tales about me, as they have for some others." + +"I guess your class 'll fill up,--" said her mother, with her fond, +wistful look at the only thing she had in the world. + +It was the fairest, still, sweet afternoon, when after church Faith got +the medicine for Sally Loundes and set out to take it to her. So fair +and lovely, that Faith hardly considered much the features of the road +she travelled; in that light any piece of ground was beautiful. The +road was very lonely after a little part of the village had been gone +through. It left the main street, then bid farewell to a few scattering +distant houses and approached what was called Barley Point;--a barren +piece of ground from which a beautiful view of the Sound and the ocean +line, and perhaps porpoises, could be had. But at the foot of this +field the road turned, round the end of that belt of woods spoken of; +and getting on the other side of it ran back eastward towards the +Lighthouse point. Between the woods and the sea, on this side, was a +narrow down that the farmers could make little of; and here the road, +if desolate, had a beauty of its own. On Faith's right was this strip +of tolling downs, grown with nothing but short grass and low blackberry +vines; and close at hand, just beyond its undulating line, the waves of +the sea beating in. Very little waves to-day, everything was so quiet. + +At the Lighthouse point, a mile or more on, was a little settlement of +fishermen and others; but only one house stood on the way, and that +hardly disturbed the monotony or the solitude; it was so little, so +brown, and looked so of a piece with the barren country. That was Sally +Loundes' house. Faith met nobody till she got there. + +When Faith came out of the house, the sun's place warned her she would +have no time to spare to get home. She set off with quicker pace, +though nowise concerned about it. There was no danger of anything in +Pattaquasset. But she had gone only a little part of her wild homeward +way when she met Mr. Simlins. Now Mr. Simlins was accustomed to take an +afternoon Sunday stroll and sometimes a long one; so it was no matter +of surprise to meet him, nor even to meet him there, for Mr. Simlins +was as independent in his choice of a walk as in everything else. But +_he_ was surprised. + +"Hullo! my passenger pigeon," he exclaimed. "Why are you here all +alone, in this unfrequent place?" + +"It's a very nice place," said Faith. "And it's not disagreeable to be +alone--though I am willing to meet you, Mr. Simlins." + +"Haven't been quarrelling with anybody, have you?" + +"No," said Faith, giving an amused look to this view of the subject. +"Do I look quarrelsome, Mr. Simlins?" + +"I don't know how you look!" said the farmer. "I aint anything of an +exposition. You'll have to ask somebody else. There's some words too +hard for me to spell and pro-nounce. Where have you been?" + +"Just to carry Sally Loundes some medicine mother had for her." + +"Where are you goin' now?" + +"Home." + +"Goin' alone?" + +"Why, yes. Why not?" + +"Don' know," said Mr. Simlins,--"only I'm going part way, and I'll see +nothin' happens to you as long as _I_'m in your consort." + +It was a wild place enough to make company pleasant. Dark clumps of +forest-trees on one hand grew near together, and the spaces between, +though cleared, looked hardly less wild; for vines and sumach and ferns +had taken possession. The sun's rays yet lay warm on the rolling downs, +the sere grass and the purplish blackberry vines, and sparkled on the +waves beyond; but when Mr. Simlins and Faith struck into the woods for +a 'short cut,' the shadowy solitude closed them in on all sides. Softly +their steps moved over the fallen pine leaves, or rustled through the +shreds of autumn finery that lay beneath oak and maple, and nothing +else but birds and squirrels broke the stillness till they were near +the further edge of the wood. There they heard a soft murmur of voices. + +"Who lives here?" said Mr. Simlins. + +But Faith held her breath. + +"There's mortality here, where I thought there was nothing but animals +and vegetation," said Mr. Simlins stepping softly and cautiously +forward. "Let's see--don't make no noise more'n the leaves 'll let you. +I shouldn't think anything would come to a meetin' here but a +wood-chuck--and they're skeered if they see a shadow." + +On that side the trees ceased abruptly, and the open sunshine of a +little clearing replaced them; and there were the speakers. + +Tallest among the group sat Mr. Linden, and around him--in various +attitudes of rest or attention--a dozen boys basked in the sunshine. +Most of them were a size or two smaller than his morning class at the +Sunday school, though several of those were stretched on the grass at +the outskirts of the circle, as honorary members. Little Johnny Fax, +established in Mr. Linden's lap, divided his attention pretty evenly +between the lesson and the teacher; though indeed to his mind the +separate interests did not clash. + +The little glade was very green still, but sprinkled with the autumn +leaves which came floating down at every breath; and the bordering +trees stood some in deep green hemlock and some in paler pine, and +thrust out here and there a glowing arm into the sunlight. The +boys--listening and looking,--some playing the part of young +Nebuchadnezzars, some picking and breaking up the asters and golden rod +within their reach,--giving little side nods of assent to each other, +or bending a more earnest gaze on Mr. Linden; pushing back their +caps--or pulling them down with a quick brush across the eyes;--the +hand with which Johnny Fax stroked back from Mr. Linden's forehead any +stray lock of hair which the wind displaced, or laid on his shoulder +when there was nothing else to do;--made altogether a picture the like +of which Mr. Simlins had not seen before--nor even Faith. The sun might +leave the clearing and betake itself to the tree-tops, and thence to +the clouds,--there was light there which came from a higher source. + +Not Faith's silent attention was more silent and motionless than that +of her companion; he did not move or stir. But her deep, deep, rapt +gravity formed part of the subject of his contemplations, for one or +two keen sidelong glances fell upon it. Else, his eyes were busy +uninterruptedly with the scene and took in the whole effect of it; hers +hardly wavered from one point. + +A little stir among the boys roused both the lookers-on from their +muse; but they stood still again at the first notes of a hymn--as Mr. +Linden's deep voice began, and the young choir with its varied treble +chimed in. + + "I want to be an angel, + And with the angels stand, + A crown upon my forehead, + A harp within my hand; + There, right before my Saviour, + So glorious and so bright, + I'd wake the sweetest music, + And praise him day and night. + + "I never should be weary, + Nor ever shed a tear, + Nor ever know a sorrow, + Nor ever feel a fear; + But blessed, pure, and holy, + I'd dwell in Jesus' sight, + And with ten thousand thousand + Praise him both day and night. + + "I know I'm weak and sinful, + But Jesus will forgive, + For many little children, + Have gone to heaven to live. + Dear Saviour, when I languish, + And lay me down to die, + Oh send a shining angel + To bear me to the sky! + + "Oh there I'll be an angel, + And with the angels stand! + A crown upon my forehead, + A harp within my hand. + And there before my Saviour, + So glorious and so bright, + I'll wake the sweetest music, + And praise him day and night!" + + +The two listeners stood still while the hymn was singing, still as the +air; but Mr. Simlins got no more sight of Faith's face. They stood +still when the hymn was finished, as if they lingered where the last +vibrations had been. But as a general stir among the hymn party +proclaimed that they would soon be on the move, the two who had watched +them, as if by consent, turned short about and silently picked their +way back through the darkening wood to the nearest point of road they +could reach. It was far from home, and even out of the wood the light +was failing; they walked with quick steps. Mr. Simlins could get +glances now at Faith's face, but though it was quiet enough, he seemed +for some reason or other in a disagreeable state of mind. It made +itself manifest at length in a grunt of considerable power. + +"Ugh!--this is a complexious sort of a world to live in!"--was his not +very clear remark. The contrast of the tone of the next words was +striking. + +"Dear Mr. Simlins, there is something better." + +"What do you call me 'dear' for?" growled he. "You never did before." + +"I don't know," said Faith. "Because I want you to be as happy as I am." + +"Be you so happy?" said the farmer inquisitively. + +Faith said yes. It was a calm and clear yes; a confident yes; one that +felt its foundations strong and deep; yet Faith's mother or dearest +friend, if gifted with quick apprehensions, would hardly have been +satisfied with it. Was Mr. Simlins so gifted? + +"Not so happy you couldn't be happier?" he said in a tone that assumed +it. + +"No," said Faith, looking at him with a sunshiny smile;--"I want to be +better, Mr. Simlins." + +"Better!"--growled Mr. Simlins. "You go hang yourself!--I wish you +_was_ better. If you aint happy--I wish the Simlins' may be--an extant +race!" + +The extraordinary combination of wishes in this speech took away +Faith's breath for an answer. She waited for something more. + +"What was that fellow doing there?" growled the farmer after a while. + +"I suppose he was teaching Sunday school," Faith said after a little +hesitation. + +"Why, is one to be forever teaching Sunday school?" said the farmer in +a discontented tone. + +"Why not?" said Faith,--"as long as there are people to be taught?" + +"Don't you want to take hold and teach me now?" said Mr. Simlins. + +Faith did not know at all what to make of this question; and before she +had found an answer that would do, she was saved making any. For Mr. +Linden, with even brisker steps than theirs, came up behind them; and +after a bright "Good evening, Mr. Simlins," uttered a somewhat +surprised "Miss Faith!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Simlins, "here she is; and I'm goin' along to see that +nothing happens to her. She goes to take care o' somebody else,--and I +come after to take care o' her; so we go. We all give each other a deal +o' trouble in this world!" + +"Am I expected to take care of you, Mr. Simlins, by the same rule?--I +came after." + +"Well!--I don't know," said the farmer "I guess there'll be nobody to +take care of me. I'm past taking care of." + +"What does that mean?" said Mr. Linden. + +"How would you like the job?" said Mr. Simlins. "Think it 'ud be easy?" + +"Why I should like to know a little more about the job before I express +any opinion." + +"I have an opinion," said Mr. Simlins, "that you don't know much o' +farming. Guess it's correct, aint it?" + +"What kind of farming?" inquired Mr. Linden again. + +"I don't know more'n one kind. Tillin' the earth, to bring out the +produce of it." + +"I have seen something of another kind," said Mr. Linden; "it is +this:--'Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy; break up +your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the Lord, till he return and +rain righteousness upon you.'" + +Mr. Simlins wasn't quick to answer that, and there was silence for a +minute or two, only broken by their footsteps. + +"Well--" he said slowly at length,--"suppos 'n a piece o' ground bears +as good a crop as it has soil for, hadn't you ought to be contented +with it?" + +"Yes," said Mr. Linden; "but I never saw such a piece of ground, yet." + +Mr. Simlins paused. + +"Do you believe some folks can be better than they air already?" he +asked. + +"I believe all folks can." + +"You believe in cameras, then. How're you goin' to work?" + +"To make people better?--set them to work for them selves, if I can." + +"What sort o' ploughs and harrows would you want 'em to take hold of?" + +"They'll find out, when they set to work in earnest to make the ground +yield the right sort of fruit," said Mr. Linden. + +"What do you call the right sort?" said the farmer, now thoroughly +engaged. "Aint as good as a man can do, the right sort?" + +"Why yes," said Mr. Linden again, "but I tell you I never saw that sort +of fruit ripe--and I'm not sure that I ever shall in this world. For +the best fruit that the ground can yield, includes not only the best +seed and cultivation, but the perfect keeping down of every weed, and +the unchecked receiving of all sweet heavenly influences." + +"That's a camera!" said Mr. Simlins something shortly. "You can't have +all that in this world." + +"The fact that people cannot be perfect in this world, does not hinder +their being better than they are." + +"Well, I say, how're you goin' to work to make it, when they're doin' +the best they can do, already?" + +"Who is?" + +"I am inclined to be of the opinion you air," said Mr Simlins slowly. +"I won't say I be--but I don't know how to do no better." + +"Thank you, Mr. Simlins--" was the somewhat sorrowful reply,--"you may +see what I do, but you do not see what I know. And for you, my +friend--pray to know!--there can be no mistakes in the advice that +comes from heaven." + +There was a minute's silence, till they came to a turning. + +"I'd be glad to see you," said Mr. Simlins in a somewhat lowered +tone,--"ary one of you--down to my house, any time. _You_ can take care +of her the rest of the way. Good night!"-- + +He turned off abruptly down a road that led his way. + +They had been walking with slackened steps during this conversation, +and the lingering memory of it still checked the pace of the two now +left together: + + "Silence accompanied; for beast and bird, + They to their grassy couch, these to their nests," + +had all retreated. And when Mr. Linden spoke, it was not in his own +words. + + + "'I thank thee, uncreated Sun, + That thy bright beams on me have shined! + I thank thee, who hast overthrown + My foes, and healed my wounded mind! + I thank thee, whose enlivening voice + Bids my freed heart in thee rejoice! + + "'Thee will I love, my joy, my crown! + Thee will I love, my Lord, my God! + Thee will I love--beneath thy frown + Or smile, thy sceptre or thy rod! + What though my flesh and heart decay, + Thee shall I love in endless day!'" + + +The silence of the evening fell again unbroken. Unless a breath caught +somewhat interruptedly--so gentle a break--might be said to break it. +Faith said nothing, except by that caught breath. Mr. Linden's step was +the only one heard. Silently then he gave her his arm, and they went on +at a quicker pace. + +After a while Faith broke the silence. She spoke in a very quiet voice; +as if choosing her words; and hesitated a little sometimes as if +timidity checked her. + +"Mr. Linden, I want to ask you about something that troubles me--I +don't know what is right. I know I know very little--I know I cannot +say much or can't say it well--but I feel sometimes as if I must speak +to everybody I can reach, and tell them what I do know, and beg them to +be safe and happy. And then something tells me that if I do so, people +will think me crazy, or be offended,--that it is not my business and I +can't do it well and that I had better not try to do it at all.--Is +that 'something' right or wrong?" + +"'Let him that heareth, say Come,'" Mr. Linden replied. "It is part of +the sailing orders of every Christian to speak every other vessel that +he can,--which does not mean that he should go out of his own proper +course to meet them, nor that he should run them down when met." + +"Nor, I suppose," said Faith, "that he should trouble himself about his +voice being very low or very hoarse. I thought so. Thank you, Mr. +Linden." + +"The voice of true loving interest is generally sweet--and rarely gives +offence," he said. "If people never spoke of religious things but from +the love of them, there would be an end to cant and bad taste in such +matters." + +She said no more. + +"How does Charles twelfth behave?" said Mr. Linden as they neared home. +"Has he 'reacted' again--or does he give you both hands full?" + +"He behaved nicely!" said Faith. "As to filling my hands, I suppose +they wouldn't hold a great deal to-day; but I hope to have them fuller +before long." + +"Then I may send you another scholar?" + +"O yes!" said Faith. "Have you one for me?" + +"Perhaps two, if circumstances make my hands too full." + +"Do I know them?" + +"I am not sure how well, nor whether you know them at all by name; but +you will like to teach them for different reasons. At least I have." + +"I don't know"--said Faith. "If you have taught them, Mr. Linden, they +will be very sorry to come to me!" + +"Then you may have the pleasure of making them glad." + +She laughed a little, but soberly; and they reached their own gate. + +It was past the usual Sunday tea time; and soon the little party were +gathered at that pleasantest, quietest of tea-tables--that which is +spread at the close of a happy Sunday. It had been such to two at least +of the family sitting there, albeit Faith's brow was unusually grave; +and it had not been _un_happy to Mrs. Derrick. She entered, by hope and +sympathy, too earnestly and thoroughly into everything that concerned +Faith--rested too much of her everyday life upon her, to be unhappy +when _she_ smiled. + +After tea, as he often did, Mr. Linden went out again; and the two were +left alone. Mrs. Derrick occupied herself with reading in the old +family Bible, where she turned over leaf after leaf; but Faith, on a +low seat, sat looking into the remains of the little fire which had +been kindled in the supper room. Looking at the glowing coals and grey +flickering ashes, with a very grave, meditative, thoughtful gaze. + +"Mother--" she said at length, turning her face towards Mrs. Derrick's +Bible. + +"Well child?" said her mother a little abstractedly. + +"I wish, mother, you would ask Mr. Linden to read and pray at +night--and let Cindy and Mr. Skip come in?" + +"Why Faith!" said Mrs. Derrick, now fully roused,--"how you talk, +child! Wish I'd do this, and wish I'd let 'tother--don't I let you and +Mr. Linden do pretty much what you've a mind to?" + +It was incomprehensible to Faith that her mother's permission should +have to do with any of Mr. Linden's actions; but she merely repeated, + +"I wish you'd ask him, mother." + +"I guess I will!" said Mrs. Derrick--"when I do you'll know it, and he +too. Ask him yourself, pretty child," she added, looking at Faith with +a very unbent brow. + +"But mother," said Faith with a little tinge in her cheeks,--"it would +be much better that you should ask him. You are the person to do it." + +"I should like to see you make that out," said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't +think I'm such a person at all." + +"Only because you are the head of the family, mother," Faith said with +a little fainter voice. + +"Well, if I'm the head of the family I'll do as I like, for once," said +Mrs. Derrick. "I'd like to hear him, I'm sure,--child it would seem +like old times,--but I wouldn't ask him, for a kingdom!" + +Faith looked at her, half laughing and grave too--but gave up the +point, seeing she must. + +"And while you're about it, Faith, you can just ask him to make his +boys behave. Sam Stoutenburgh did nothing all meeting time but look at +you. So I guess the sermon didn't do _him_ much good." + +Faith went back to the contemplation of the fire. However, she +apparently had not made up her mind that _she_ was 'the person,' or +else was not ready to act upon it; for when Mr. Linden was heard +opening the front door Faith ran away, and came down no more that night. + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + +"It occurs to me, Parson Somers," said that gentleman's lady wife, as +she salted and sugared his morning bowl of porridge; "it occurs to me, +that Pattaquasset is getting stirred up with a long pole." + +"Ah, my dear?" said Mr. Somers--"'Stirred up! Well--what makes you +think so?" + +"Why--" said Mrs. Somers tasting the porridge--"Jenny! fetch some more +milk. How do you suppose Mr. Somers is going to eat such thick stuff as +that?--and when do you suppose he is going to get his breakfast, at +this rate? If you let your head run upon Jem Waters in this style, +Jenny, I shall forbid him the house. I always notice that the day after +he's been here Mr. Somers' porridge is too thick." + +"Well, my dear," said the parson,--"ha--the porridge will do very well. +I thought you were speaking of Pattaquasset when you spoke of something +being 'stirred up.'" + +"So I was," said the lady, while Jenny blushing beyond her ordinary +peonic hue, ran about in the greatest confusion, catching up first the +water pitcher and then the molasses cup. "'Do very well?'--no, indeed +it won't!--but men never know anything about housekeeping." + +"Well, my dear, but about Pattaquasset?--I know something about +Pattaquasset. Is there any trouble in the village? It's a very +peaceable place," continued Mr. Somers, looking at his distant +breakfast dish,--"always was--ha--I wish you'd let me have my porridge. +Is there any trouble, my dear?" + +"I can't tell,--" said Mrs. Somers, adding critical drops of +milk,--"see for yourself, Mr. Somers. If there isn't, there may +be.--One set of things is at sixes, and another at sevens. +There--that's better, though it's about as far from perfection as I am." + +"We're none of us perfect, and so--ha--my dear, we can't blame the +porridge," said Mr. Somers with slight jocularity which pleased at +least himself. "But Pattaquasset is about as near the impossible state +as most places, that _I_ know. What have you heard of, Mrs. Somers? You +deal in rather--a--enigmatical construction, this morning." + +"Who said I had heard anything?" said the lady,--"I only said, use your +eyes, Mr. Somers,--open your study window and let the light in. Just +see what a rumpus we've had about the school, to begin." + +"Ha! my dear," said Mr. Somers, "if opening the window of my study is +going to let trouble come in, I'd rather--ha--keep it shut! Judge +Harrison thinks the teacher is a very fine man--and I've no doubt he +is!--and the Judge is going to give him a great celebration. I have no +doubt we shall all enjoy it. I think the disturbance that has been made +will not give Mr. Linden any more trouble." + +"Why who cares about his trouble?" said Mrs. Somers rather briskly,--"I +dare say he's very good, Mr. Somers, but I sha'n't fret over _him_. I'm +not sure but he's a little _too_ good for my liking--I'm not sure that +it's quite natural. Jenny! fetch some more biscuit!--how long do you +suppose Mr. Somers and I can live upon one?" + +Parson Somers eat porridge and studied the philosophy of Mrs Somers' +statements. + +"My dear," said he at length,--"I am not sure that you are correct in +your view--indeed it seems to me--a--rather contradictory. I don't know +what the stir is about; and I don't think there is any occasion, my +dear, for you--a--to fret, about anything. Not about Mr. Linden, +certainly. The disaffection to the new school was--a--confined to very +few! I don't think it has taken root in the public mind generally. You +will be better able to form a judgment on Thursday." + +"Bless your heart! Mr. Somers," said his wife, "what's Thursday to do? +If you think I've said all I _could_ say--why there's no help for it. +Now there's Sam Deacon--don't come to meeting half the time +lately,--and to match that, Faith Derrick walks into Sunday school with +one of those Seacomb children tagging after her." + +"Well," said Mr. Somers looking exceedingly mystified,--"what's the +harm in that? If Miss Faith chooses to do it, it shews, I am sure, a--a +charitable disposition,--praiseworthy!" + +"Mr. Somers!"--said the lady. "Is it possible you can think for one +moment that I mean what you mean? If she came to Society too, I should +know what to make of it, but when people work alongside of some folks, +and not alongside of others, why it's as long as it's broad. Then Maria +Davids says she drove those boys over to Neanticut 'tother day--or +helped drive 'em. What do you think of that, Mr. Somers?" + +Mr. Somers looked as if his wife was too fast for him. + +"My dear," said he however, plucking up,--"I think I would trust Faith +Derrick as soon as Maria Davids, or--any other young lady in +Pattaquasset! If she did go to Neanticut I presume it was all as it +should be. Squire Deacon never was--a--very remarkable for being a +religious man or anything like that; and you can't help folks working +alongside of each other--they will do it," said Mr. Somers relapsing +into his jocular mood. "I am a man of peace, my dear, and you should be +a woman of peace." + +"Why you don't suppose I believed what Maria Davids said?" replied Mrs. +Somers. "Her words are not worth their weight in gold--and she isn't a +bit too good to be jealous. But the thing is, if Faith didn't do that, +what _did_ she do? Jenny! fetch in the tub of hot water, and be spry!" + +With Jenny and the hot water walked in a somewhat rough-looking boy, +who declared without much ceremony, beyond doffing his cap, that "'ma +sent him to find out where the sewin' meetin' was to be this week." + +"Who are you?" said Mrs. Somers, dipping a cup in the hot water and +wiping it with a 'spryness' that was quite imposing. "Is your name Bill +Wright?" + +"No 'taint," said the boy. "Guess again." + +"You'll never pay anybody for much trouble that way," said Mrs. Somers +dipping in the corresponding saucer. "Jenny--did you ever hear of +anybody's getting along in a dish-tub without a mop?" + +"Who is it wants to know, sir?" said Mr. Somers politely. "Who is your +father?" + +"He's farmer Davids." + +"Oh! and are you Phil?" + +"Yes! What be I goin' to tell her?"--This interrogatory being sent in +the direction of the dish-tub. + +"Why you can tell her two things," said Mrs. Somers, eying Phil from +head to foot. "In the first place, the Society'll meet down at Miss +Bezac's; and in the second, as soon as your mother'll teach her +children how to behave themselves I shall be very glad to see them." + +"The Society'll meet down to Miss Purcell's?" + +"Miss Bezac's"--said Mrs. Somers, preserving a cheerful and brisk +equanimity in the midst of her sharp words that was quite delightful. +"Pay more attention to your lessons, Phil Davids, and you'll be a +better boy, if you look sharp." + +"What lessons?" said the boy blackly. + +"All you get--at home and abroad. You go to school I fancy," replied +Mrs. Somers. + +The boy glanced towards the clock and began to move off, answering by +actions rather than words. + +"You were over at Neanticut, I suppose, Saturday," said Mr. Somers +affably. To which the answer was a choked and unwilling 'yes.' + +"Well who drove you over?" + +"He druv," said Phil. "I'm going--" + +"And the ladies--weren't there ladies along?" + +"Yes--They druv too." + +"Did you have a fine time?" said Mrs. Somers. + +"Yes! _I_ did," said Phil very gloomily. + +"Why what did you do more than the rest?" + +"I didn't do nothing!" said Phil, blurting out,--"and he went and took +all my nuts away. He's the devil!" + +The boy looked at the minute as if he was a young one. + +"Hush, hush!" said Mr. Somers. "You--you oughtn't to speak that +way--don't you know? it's not proper." + +"I hope he boxed your ears first," said Mrs. Somers--"I'm certain you +deserved it. What made him take your nuts away?" + +"He wanted 'em to make a present to you"--said the boy; and with +another glance at the hands of the clock, he darted out of the house +and down the road towards the schoolhouse, as if truly he had expected +to meet there the character he had mentioned. + +"My dear--" said Mr. Somers--"do you think it is quite--a--politic, to +tell Mrs. Davids she don't bring up her children right? Mrs. Davids is +a very respectable woman--and so is Farmer Davids--none more so." + +"I don't know what you call respectable women--" said Mrs. Somers--"I +should be sorry to think _he_ was. But I just wish, Mr. Somers, that +you would preach a sermon to the people about cutting off their +children's tongues if they can't keep them in order. I declare! I could +hardly keep hands off that boy." + +And with this suggested and suggestive text, Mr. Somers retired to his +study. + +It had been a busy day with more than Mr. Somers, when towards the +close of the afternoon Faith came out upon the porch of her mother's +house. She had not read more than one delicious bit of her letter on +the ride home from Neanticut; the light failed too soon. After getting +home there was no more chance. Saturday night, that Saturday, had a +crowd of affairs. And Monday had been a day full of business. Faith had +got through with it all at last; and now, as fresh as if the kitchen +had been a bygone institution--though that was as true of Faith in the +kitchen as out of it--she sat down in the afternoon glow to read the +letter. The porch was nice to match; she took a low seat on the step, +and laying the letter in her lap rested her elbow on the yellow floor +of the porch to take it at full ease. + +It was not just such a letter as is most often found in +biographies,--yet such as may be found--'out of print.' A bright medley +of description and fancy--mountains and legends and scraps of song +forming a mosaic of no set pattern. And well-read as the writer was in +other respects, it was plain that she was also learned in both the +books Faith had had at Neanticut. The quick flow of the letter was only +checked now and then by a little word-gesture of affection,--if that +could be called a check, which gave to the written pictures a better +glow than lit up the originals. + +It was something to see Faith read that letter--or would have been, if +anybody had been there to look. She leaned over it in a sort of +breathless abstraction, catching her breath a little sometimes in a way +that told of the interest at work. The interest was not merely what +would have belonged to the letter for any reader,--it was not merely +the interest that attached to the writer of it, nor to the person for +whom it was written; it was not only the interest deep and great which +Faith felt in the subjects and objects spoken of in the letter. All +these wrought with their full power; but all these were not enough to +account for the intent and intense feeling with which Faith bent over +that letter, with eyes that never wavered, and a cheek in which the +blood mounted to a bright flush. And when it was done, even then she +sat still leaning over the paper, looking not at it but through it. + +A little shower of fringed gentian and white Ladies' tresses came +patting down upon the letter, hiding its delicate black marks with +their own dainty faces. + +"These are your means of transport back to Pattaquasset," said Mr. +Linden. Faith looked up, and rose up. + +"I had come back," she said, drawing one of those half long breaths as +she folded up and gave him the letter. "I can't thank you, Mr. Linden." + +"I thought you were not reading, or I should not have ventured such an +interruption. But I am in no hurry for the letter, Miss Faith. How do +you like Italy?" + +"I like it--" said Faith doubtfully,--"I don't know it. Mr. Linden," +she went on with some difficulty and flushing yet more,--"some time, +will you tell me in what books I can find out about those +things?--those things the letter speaks of." + +"Those which concern Italy, do you mean! I can arrange an Italy shelf +for you up stairs--but I am afraid I have not very much here to put on +it." + +"No indeed!" said Faith looking half startled,--"I didn't mean to give +you trouble--only some time, if you would tell me what books--perhaps--" + +"Perhaps what?" he said smiling,--"perhaps I wouldn't?" + +"No," she said, "I mean, perhaps you _would;_ and perhaps I could get +them and read them. I feel I don't know anything." + +That Faith felt it was very plain. She had that rare beauty--a soft +eye. I do not mean the grace of insipidity, nor the quality of mere +form and colour; but the full lustrous softness that speaks a character +strong in the foundations of peace and sweetness. Many an eye can be +soft by turns and upon occasion; it is rarely that you see one where +sweetness and strength have met together to make that the abiding +characteristic. The gentleness of such an eye has always strength to +back it. Weakness could never be so steadfast; poverty could not be so +rich. And Faith's eye shewed both its qualities now. + +Mr. Linden merely repeated, "I will arrange it for you--and you can +take the books in what order you like. Perhaps I can send you another +journey when they are exhausted," he added, turning the letter softly +about, as if the touch were pleasant to him. She stood looking at it. + +"I don't know how to thank you for letting me read that," she said. "It +would be foolish in me to tell you how beautiful I thought it." + +"_She_ is--" her brother said, with a tender, half smiling half grave +expression. And for a minute or two he was silent--then spoke abruptly. + +"Miss Faith, what have you done with your 'Philosophe'? You know, +though the rooms in the great Temple of Knowledge be so many that no +one can possibly explore them all, yet the more keys we have in hand +the better. For some locks yield best to an English key, some to a +French; and it is often pleasant to take a look where one cannot go in +and dwell." + +She flushed a good deal, with eyes downcast as she stood before him; +then answered, with that odd little change of her voice which told of +some mental check. + +"I haven't done anything with it, Mr. Linden." + +"That requires explanation." + +"It isn't so hard as one of your puzzles," she said smiling. "I mean to +do something with it, Mr. Linden, if I can; and I thought I would try +the other day; but I found I didn't know enough to begin--to learn that +yet." + +"What other key are you forging?" + +"What _other_ key?" said Faith. + +"I mean," he answered with a tone that shewed a little fear of going +too far, "what do you want to learn before that?" + +"I don't know," said Faith humbly.--"I suppose, English. It was a +grammar of yours, Mr. Linden, a French grammar, that I was looking at; +and I found I couldn't understand what it was about, anywhere. So I +thought I must learn something else first." + +"Never was philosopher so put in a corner!" said Mr. Linden. "Suppose +you take up him and the dictionary and let me be the grammar--do you +think you could understand what I was about?" + +The blood leapt to her cheek; part of her answer Faith had no need to +put in words, even if he had not seen her eyes, which he did. The words +were not in any hurry to come. + +"When you have been teaching all day already"--she said in a tone +between regretful and self-reproving. "It wouldn't be right." + +"Mayn't I occasionally do wrong?--just for variety's sake!" + +"_You_ may--and I don't doubt you would. I was thinking of my own part." + +"I am glad you don't say you have no doubt I _do_," said Mr. Linden. "I +suppose you mean that I would if sufficient temptation came up, which +of course it never has." + +Faith looked an instant, and then her gravity broke up. "Ah, but you +know what I mean," she said. + +"You will have to furnish _me_ with a dictionary next," he said +smiling. "Look at my watch--Miss Faith, how can you have tea so late, +when I have been teaching all day?--it isn't right,--and cuts off one's +time for philosophizing besides." + +Faith ran into the house, to tell the truth, with a very pleased face; +and tea was on the table in less time than Cindy could ever understand. +But during tea-time Faith looked, furtively, to see if any signs were +to be found that little Johnny Fax had been made to yield up his +testimony. Whether he had or no, she could see none; which however, as +she justly concluded with herself, proved nothing. + +The new grammar was far easier understood than the old. Although Mr. +Linden unfolded his newspaper, and informed Faith that he intended to +read 'uninterruptedly'--so that she 'need feel no scruple about +interrupting him'--yet he probably had the power of reading two things +at once; for his assistance was generally given before it was asked. +His explanations too, whether Faith knew it or not, covered more ground +than the _French_ exigency absolutely required,--he was not picking +this lock for her, but giving her the grammar key. + +But Faith knew it and felt it; and tasted the help thus given, with an +appreciation which only it needed to do all its work; the keen delight +of one seeking knowledge, who has never been helped and who has for the +first time the right kind of help. Indeed, with the selfishness +incident to human nature, she forgot all about Mr. Linden's intention +to read uninterruptedly, and took without scruple or question, all the +time he bestowed upon her. And it was not till some minutes after she +had closed her books, that her low, grateful "You are very good, Mr. +Linden!" reached his ear. + +Now the fact was, that Faith had been much observed that +afternoon,--her reading-dream on the steps had been so pretty a thing +to see, that when Squire Deacon had seen it once he came back to see it +again; and what number of views he would have taken cannot be told, had +he not been surprised by Mr. Linden. Naturally the Squire +withdrew,--naturally his enlarged mind became contracted as he thought +of the cause thereof; and not unnaturally he walked down that way after +tea, still further to use his eyes. The house was in a tantalizing +state. For though the light curtain was down, it revealed not only the +bright glow of the lamp, but one or two shadowy heads; and the window +being open (for the evening was warm) low voices, that he loved and +that he did not love, came to his ear. Once a puff of wind floated the +curtain in--more tantalizing than ever! Squire Deacon could see Mr. +Linden bending aside to look at something, but _what_ the Squire could +not see; for there came the edge of the curtain. In a warm state of +mind he turned his face homewards, proclaiming to himself that he +didn't care what they did!--the result of which was, that in ten +minutes more he was knocking at Mrs. Derrick's door, and being promptly +admitted by Cindy entered the parlour just as Faith had shut up her +book and uttered her soft word of thanks. + +It was something of a transition! But after a moment's shadow of +surprise on her face, Faith came forward and gave the Squire her hand. +She would have let him then explain his own errand; but as he did not +seem very ready to do that, or to say anything, Faith stepped into the +breach. + +"How is Cecilia, Mr. Deacon? I have not seen her in a long time." + +"She's firstrate," said the Squire, colouring up; for Mr. Linden's "how +do you do _again_, Squire Deacon?" not only implied that they had +lately met, but that the occasion was not forgotten. + +"It's a sort of suffocating evening," added the Squire, wiping his +forehead. "I don't recollect so warm an October for a year or two. +Cilly's been out of town, Miss Faith, and since she come back she's +been complainin' of _you_." + +Faith was near saying that she hoped the warm weather would last till +Thursday; but she remembered that would not do, and changed her ground. + +"I am sorry anybody should complain of me. Is that because I didn't go +to see her when she was away?" + +"I'm sure the rest of us could have stood it, if you _had_ come when +she was gone, Miss Faith," said the Squire gallantly. "Seems to me we +haven't seen you down to our house for an age of Sundays." + +"I will try to come of a week day," said Faith. "I think you never saw +me there Sunday, Mr. Deacon." + +"I suppose an age of Sundays must be seven times as long as any other +age," said Mr. Linden. "Isn't that the origin of the phrase, Squire +Deacon?" + +"Very like," said the Squire--who didn't care to be interrupted. "I +don't know much about originals,--when a man has a position to fill, +sir, he can't study knick-knacks. What a handsome book, Miss Faith! +such a becoming colour." + +"Don't you like the inside of books too, Mr. Deacon?" said Faith. + +"I daresay I should that one," said the Squire,--"the outside's like a +picture--or a view, as some people call it. Looks just like a grain +field in spring. What's the name of it, Miss Faith?" + +Half prudently, half wickedly, Faith without answering took the book +from the table and put it in Mr. Deacon's hand. + +The Squire's face looked like anything but a grain field in spring +then--it was more like a stubble in November; for opening the book +midway and finding no help there, he turned to the title page and found +the only English words in the book, in very legible black ink. + +"So!" he said--"it's his'n, is it!" + +"Yes, it is mine," said Mr. Linden,--"almost any man may have so much +of a library as that." + +The Squire glanced suspiciously at Faith, as if he still believed she +had something to do with it; but he did not dare press the matter. + +"Miss Faith," he said, calling up a smile that was meant to do +retrospective work, "have you heard tell of the queer things they've +found down to Mattabeeset?" + +"What things, Mr. Deacon?" + +"Some sort o' bird's been makin' tracks down there," said the Squire +leaning back in his chair, with the look of one who has now got the +game in his own hands; "makin' tracks criss-cross round; and they do +say the size on 'em might have come out of the ark, for wonder." + +"How large are they, Mr. Deacon? and what sort of bird is it?" + +"Well if I was a descendant of Noah, I s'pose I could tell you," said +the Squire with increased satisfaction,--"I'm sorry I can't, as it is. +But if you're curious, Miss Faith (and ladies always is in my +experience) I'll drive you down there any day or any time of day. I +want to see 'em myself, that's a fact, and so does Cilly. Now Miss +Faith, name the day!" + +The shortest possible smile on Mr. Linden's face at this sudden and +earnest request, did not help Faith to an answer; but the Squire was +happily forgetful for the moment that there were more than two people +in the room, and leaning towards Faith he repeated, + +"The sooner the quicker, always, in such cases! because folks can never +tell what may happen." + +"No," said Faith, "they cannot--especially about weather; and I have +got some particular work to attend to at home, Mr. Deacon, before the +weather changes. I wish you and Cecilia would go down and bring us a +report. I should like that. But for the present Mr. Skip and I have +something to do." + +"It's good you want Mr. Skip, for I don't," said the Squire, stiffening +a little. "Is that one of the new-fashioned ways of saying you won't +go, Miss Faith?" + +"What's your objection to Mr. Skip?" said Faith pleasantly. "I am glad +nobody else wants him, for _we_ do." + +"Well, I say I'm glad you've got him," said the Squire, relenting under +the power of Faith's voice. "But what ails _you_ Miss Faith, to go +tackin' round like one o' them schooners against the wind? Aint it a +straight question as to whether you'll take an excursion to +Mattabeeset?" + +"Very straight," said Faith smiling and speaking gently. "And I thought +I gave a straight answer." + +"Blessed if I can see which road it took!" said Squire Deacon,--"save +and except it didn't seem to be the right one. 'No' 's about as ugly a +road as a man can foller. Guess I spoke too late, after all," said the +Squire meditatively. "How's your furr'n news, Mr. Linden? Get it +regular?" + +"Yes--" said Mr. Linden,--"making due allowance for the irregularity of +the steamers." + +Faith looked up in no little astonishment, and took the eye as well as +the ear effect of this question and answer; then said quietly, + +"Have you any business in the post-office, Mr. Deacon?" + +"Not a great deal, Miss Faith," said the Squire, with a blandness on +one side of his face which but poorly set off the other. "I go down for +the paper once a week, and 'lection times maybe oftener, but I don't do +much in the letter line. Correspondence never was my powder magazine. I +shouldn't know where to put two or three femin_ine_ letters a week--if +I got 'em." + +If he had got what somebody wanted to give him at that moment!--Squire +Deacon little knew what risk he ran, nor how much nearer he was to a +powder magazine than he ever had been in his life. + +"A sure sign that nobody will ever trouble you in that way," Faith said +somewhat severely But the Squire was obtuse. + +"Well I guess likely," he said, "and it's just as good they don't. I +shouldn't care about living so fur from any body I was much tied up +in--or tied up _to_, neither. I can't guess, for one, how you make out +to be contented here, Mr. Linden." + +"How do you know that I do, sir?" + +There was a little pause at that--it was a puzzling question to answer; +not to speak of a slight warning which the Squire received from his +instinct. But the pause was pleasantly ended. + +"Faith!" said a gentle voice in the passage--"open the door, +child--I've got both hands full." + +Which call Mr. Linden appropriated to himself, and not only opened the +door but brought in the great dish of smoking chestnuts. Faith ran away +to get plates for the party, with one of which in defiance of etiquette +she served first Mr. Linden; then handed another to the Squire. + +"I hope they are boiled right, Mr. Linden. Have you seen any chestnuts +yet this year, Mr. Deacon?" + +"I've seen some--but they warn't good for nothing," said the Squire +rather sourly. "Thank you, Miss Faith, for your plate, but I guess I'll +go." + +"Why stay and eat some chestnuts, Squire Deacon!" said Mrs. Derrick. +"Those are Neanticut chestnuts--firstrate too." + +"I don't like Neanticut chestnuts--" said Squire Deacon rising--"never +did,--they're sure to be wormy. Good night, Miss Faith--good night, Mr. +Linden. Mrs. Derrick, this room's hot enough to roast eggs." + +"Why the windows are open!" said Mrs. Derrick--"and we might have had +the curtains drawn back, too, but I always feel as if some one was +looking in." + +Which remark did not delay the Squire's departure, and Mrs. Derrick +followed him to the door, talking all the way. + +During which little 'passage' Faith's behaviour again transcended all +rules. For she stood before the dish of chestnuts, fingering one or +two, with a somewhat unsteady motion of the corners of her mouth; and +then put both her hands to her face and laughed, her low but very +merriment-speaking laugh. + +"Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said, "I think Job was an extraordinary +man!--and the chestnuts are not so bad as they are reported, after all." + +Faith became grave, and endeavoured to make trial of the chestnuts, +without making any answer. + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick returning, "I don't think the Squire felt +just comfortable--I wonder if he's well?" + +Which remark brought down the house. + +"By the way--" said Mr. Linden looking up,--"did you lose a bow of +ribband from your sunbonnet, the other day at Neanticut?" + +Faith owned to having lost it somewhere. + +"I found it somewhere--" said Mr. Linden with a rather peculiar look, +as he took out the bow of ribband. + +"Where did you find it, Mr. Linden?" + +"I found it here--in Pattaquasset." + +"Where?" + +But he shook his head at the question. + +"I think I will not tell you--you may lose it again." + +And all Faith's efforts could get no more from him. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + +The Thursday of the great school celebration arrived; and according to +Faith's unexpressed wish, the weather had continued warm. It was the +very luxury of October. A day for all the senses to disport themselves +and revel in luxurious beauty. But the mind of Pattaquasset was upon +the evening's revel, and upon the beauty of white cambric and blue +ribbands. The mind of Faith Derrick was on somewhat else. + +"Mother," she said, "do you know there must be a fire up in Mr. +Linden's room as soon as the weather gets cold?" + +"Of course, child." + +"Well there is nothing in the world up there to put wood in." + +"It used to lie on the floor--" said Mrs. Derrick, as if the past might +possibly help the future. "That does make a muss." + +"It's not going to lie on the floor now," said Faith. "I am going to +get Mr. Skip to make me a box, a large box, with a top--and I will +cover it with some carpet or dark stuff, if you'll give me some, +mother. It must be dark, because the wood of the room is. I am going to +stuff the top for a seat, and it will look very nice." + +"Anything does that you take hold of," said her mother. "Yes, child, +I'll give you all I've got,--you can look for yourself and take what +you like best." + +The immediate work of the day was to 'clear ship'--in other words, to +do all the day's work in the former part thereof, so as to leave time +for the unwonted business of the afternoon. Mrs. Derrick even proposed +that Faith should get dressed. But Faith said there was time enough +after dinner; and that meal was gone through with as usual. + +With this slight variation in the table talk. Mr. Linden suggested to +Faith the propriety of philosophizing a little, as a preparative for +the dissipation of the evening; and declared that for the purpose, he +would promise to bring his toilette within as narrow bounds as she did +hers. + +Faith's face gave answer, in the sort of sparkling of eye and colour +which generally met such a proposition, and which to-day was +particularly bright with the pleasure of surprise. + +"But," she said warningly, "I can dress in _very_ few minutes!" + +So she did, and yet--and yet, she was dressed from head to foot and to +the very point of the little white ruffle round her throat. Hair, +bright as her hair was, and in the last degree of nice condition and +arrangement, the same perfect presentation of hands and feet and white +ruffles as aforesaid;--that was the most of Faith's dressing; the rest +was a plain white cambric frock, which had its only setting off in her +face and figure. The one touch of colour which it wanted, Faith found +when she went down stairs; for upon the basket where 'Le Philosophe' +commonly reposed, lay a dainty breast-knot of autumn tints,--fringed +gentian with its delicate blue, and oak leaves of the deepest red, and +a late rose or two. + +It is a pity there was nobody to see Faith's face; for its tints copied +the roses. Surprise and doubt and pleasure made a pretty confusion. She +held in her hand the dainty bouquet and looked at it, as if the red +leaves could have told her what other hand they were in last; which was +what Faith wanted to know. + +A step on the porch--a slight knock at the front door, naturally drew +her thoughts and feet thither, but whatever Faith expected she did not +expect to see Sam Stoutenburgh. One might almost go further and say he +did not expect to see her, for he gazed at her as if she had been an +apparition--only that his face was red instead of white. + +"How do you do, Sam," said Faith, coming back a little to everyday +life. "Do you want to see Mr. Linden?" + +"O no, Miss Faith!" said Sam--as if it were the last thing in the world +he wanted to see. + +"Well Sam--what then?" + +But Sam was slow to say what then--or indeed to say anything; and what +would have been his success is to this day unknown, for at that moment +Mr. Linden came down stairs. + +"Do you want me, Sam?" he said, approaching the front door. + +"No, sir," said Sam (playing both parts of an unwilling witness)--"I--I +thought you were out, Mr. Linden." + +"O--" Mr. Linden said. "I beg your pardon!" And he not only went into +the parlour but shut the door after him. + +To no purpose! With him went the remnant of Sam Stoutenburgh's courage, +if he had had any to begin with, and after one more glance at Faith he +fairly turned his back and fled--without striking his colours. Faith +went back to the parlour. + +"What is the matter with the boy?" she said, "I couldn't get anything +out of him, Mr. Linden." + +A somewhat peculiar smile came with the words, + +"Couldn't you?" + +Faith noticed it, but her thought was elsewhere. She came back to the +table, took up the flowers, and said a little timidly, + +"Do you know who put these here, Mr. Linden?" + +The look changed. "I think I do," he said. + +Her look did not change, except to a softened reflection of the one +with which she had first viewed them. She viewed them still, bending +over them doubtfully; then glancing up at him she shook her head and +said, + +"You are dressed before me, after all, Mr. Linden!" + +And ran away. She was back again in three minutes, with the flowers +upon her breast; and if there had been but one adornment in the world +that would have fitted her just then, the giver of the flowers had +found it. Faith had altered nothing, she had only put them in the right +place; and the effect was curious in its beauty. That effect of her +flowers was probably the only one unknown to Faith herself, though it +was with a face blushing with pleasure that she came in and sat gravely +down to be a philosopher. + +She gave her teacher little trouble, and promised to give him less. She +had excellent capacity, that was plain; with the eager desire for +learning which makes the most of it; both the power and the will were +there to appropriate and use every word of Mr. Linden's somewhat +lawless but curiously skilful manner of instructing her. And the +simplicity of her attention was perfect. She did not forget her +flowers, probably, during this particular page of philosophizing, for a +little tinge on her cheek never ceased to speak of pleasure all through +the time; but that was the sole sign of distraction, if distraction +there were. Less grave, but more intent, than Mr. Linden himself, the +information that Mr. Skip had driven the little wagon round before the +door, came to her ears all too soon. + +The drive to the Judge's was not very long; it might have been three +quarters of a mile; so even at the old horse's rate of travelling they +were soon there. + +Judge Harrison's house was large and old-fashioned, yet had much more +style about it than any other house in Pattaquasset pretended to; and +the same was true of its arrangements and furniture. It was comfortable +and ample; so was everything in it; with besides that touch of ease and +fitness and adaptation which shews always--or generally--that people +have lived where there is a freedom from fixed standards. It was so +here; for Judge Harrison's family during the life-time of his wife had +always spent their winters and often part of their summers away from +Pattaquasset--in one of the great cities, New York generally, or at +some watering-place. There was also however an amount of good sense and +kind temper in the family which made no difference, of intention, +between them and the rest of Pattaquasset when they were there; so that +they were extremely popular. + +Mr. Skip and old Crab were in very good time; there were not more than +half assembled of all the good company asked and expected this +afternoon. These were all over, in the house and out of the house; +observing and speculating. The house was surrounded with pleasant +grounds, spreading on two sides in open smooth lawns of considerable +extent, and behind the house and the lawns stretching back in a half +open shrubbery. On one of the lawns long tables already shewed their +note of preparation; on the other there was a somewhat ominous array of +benches and chairs; and among them all, round and about everything, +scattered the people. + +Mrs. Derrick and Faith went upstairs to the unrobing room, where the +latter was immediately taken into consultation by Miss Harrison on some +matters which promised to keep them both busy for some time. Mr. Linden +meanwhile received a very cordial welcome from Judge Harrison, who was +cordiality itself. + +"Well, Mr. Linden! we've got a good day! Good for the boys and good for +us. We've ventured to depart a little from your--instructions! but--I +hope--in such a way as not to compromise you. My son and daughter have +managed it. I'll introduce him to you"--said the old gentleman looking +about,--"but he's somewhere just now." + +"I should like to know first, Judge Harrison, what my instructions +were," said Mr. Linden, as his eyes likewise made search for the +missing doctor. + +"O," said the Judge, "all right! I understood your feelings exactly. I +used that word because the right one didn't come. I have to do that +often. I've heard of the 'pen of a ready writer'--I'm sure I'd rather +have the tongue of a ready speaker; but it don't matter for me now. My +friends take me as they find me, and so will you, I have little fear. +Julius!--Here's my son, Dr. Harrison, Mr. Linden." + +Dr. Harrison must have a word of introduction to the reader, though he +was one of those who need very little in actual life. He was a handsome +man, young but not very young, and came up at his father's call and +honoured the introduction to his father's guest, with that easy grace +and address which besides being more or less born with a man, tell that +much attrition with the world has been at work to take away all his +outward roughnesses of nature. He was handsomely dressed too, though +not at all in a way to challenge observation. His coat would have +startled nobody in Pattaquasset, though it might have told another that +its wearer had probably seen France, had probably seen England, and had +in short lived much in that kind of society which recognizes the fact +of many kinds of coats in the world. His greeting of Mr. Linden was +both simple and graceful. + +"I am very happy to see you," he said as he shook hands. "I should +certainly have come to see you before, but I am more a stranger in +Pattaquasset than anybody. I have hardly been at home since I returned; +business has drawn me to other quarters--and I am only fortunate enough +to be in time for this occasion. It's a good time for me," said he +looking round,--"I can renew my old acquaintance with everybody at +once--I think all Pattaquasset is here." + +"Not grown out of your remembrance, has it?" said Mr. Linden. "How long +have you been away?" + +"Well--it's had time to grow out of everything! especially out of my +memory. I have not been here for five years--and then only for a few +days--and before that at College; so I may say I have hardly been here +since my boyhood. I don't know anybody but the old ones. I shall apply +to you, if you will allow me," said he, drawing himself and Mr. Linden +a little more apart from the centre of reception. "Who, for instance, +is that very--well-dressed--young lady just entering the +hall?--good-looking too." + +The doctor's face was very quiet--so were his words; but his eye was +upon Miss Cecilia Deacon, who in a low-necked blue silk, with an amber +necklace and jet bracelets, was paying her respects to the Judge and +his daughter. With equal quietness Mr. Linden made answer. + +"By the way," said the doctor suddenly, "I believe we owe this pleasant +occasion--very pleasant I think it is going to be--to you." + +"Accidentally and innocently, I assure you." + +"Yes--of course,"--said Dr. Harrison, with the air of one who needed no +information as to Mr. Linden's view of the subject, nor explanation as +to its grounds. "But," said he speaking somewhat low,--"my father has +the interests of the school--and indeed of all Pattaquasset--truly at +heart, and my sister has entered into all his feelings. I am a kind of +alien. I hope not to be so.--But, as I was saying, my father and sister +putting their heads together, have thought it would have a good effect +upon the boys and upon certain interests of the community through them +and their parents too, to give some little honours to the best students +among them--or to the cleverest boys--which, as you and I know, are not +precisely synonymous terms. Would you think well of such an expedient? +My father is very anxious to do nothing which shall not quite meet your +judgment and wish in the matter." + +"I shall leave it in Judge Harrison's hands," said Mr. Linden after a +moment's silence: "I should be very sorry to gainsay his wishes in any +respect. And some of the boys deserve any honours that can be given +them." + +"Do they?" said the doctor. "Can you indicate them to me?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden smiling. "I shall leave you to find out." + +"Leave _me_"--said the other. "How did you know what office they had +charged upon me? Well--I am making as long a speech as if I were a +member of Congress. By the way, Mr. Linden, can you imagine what could +induce a man to be that particular member of the body politic? it +occupies the place of the feet, I think; such members do little but run +to and fro--though I remember I just seemed to give them the place of +the tongue--unjustly. They don't do the real talk of the world." + +"The real _talk?_" said Mr. Linden. "Indeed I think they do their +share." + +"Of talk?" said the doctor with an acute look at his neighbour. +"Well--as I was saying--my sister has provided I believe some red and +blue, or red and something, favours of ribband--to be given to the boys +who shall merit them. Now to find out that, which you won't tell me, I +am to do, under your pleasure, some more talking--to them in public--to +see in short how well they can talk to me. Do you like that?" + +"Better than they will, perhaps--as merit is sometimes modest." + +"I assure you I would happily yield the duty into your hands--who would +do it so much better--but I suppose you would say as somebody +else--'Let my friend tell my tale.'--Who is that?" said the doctor +slowly and softly,--"like the riding pole of a fence--as little to +spare--and as rigid--isn't he?--and as long! Don't I remember him?" + +"You ought--that is Mr. Simlins." + +"Yes"--said the doctor musingly--"I remember him! I incurred his +displeasure once, in some boyish way, and if I recollect he is a man +that pays his debts. And that unfortunate--next--looks like the +perspective of a woman." + +But this lady Mr. Linden did not know. She was little, in form and +feature, and had besides a certain _pinched-in_ look of +diminutiveness--that seemed to belong to mind as well as body, temper, +and life--and had procured her the doctor's peculiar term of +description. + +"The next thing is," said Dr. Harrison, as his eye slowly roved over +the assembled and assembling people--"who is to give the favours? My +sister of course does not wish to be forward in the business and _I_ +don't--and you don't. _I _say, the prettiest girl here." + +"I think the hands that prepared the favours should dispense them," +said Mr. Linden. + +"But she won't do it--and ladies have sometimes the power of saying +no--they're generally persuadable!--Who's that?" said the doctor with a +change of tone, touching Mr. Linden's arm,--"the one in white with a +red bouquet de corsage--she's charming! She's the one!" + +"That is Miss Derrick." + +"She'll do,"--said the doctor softly to his companion, as Faith paused +for a quick greeting of the Judge and then passed on out of +sight;--"she's charming--Do you suppose she knew what she was about +when she put those red leaves and roses together? I didn't know there +was that kind of thing in Pattaquasset." + +"Yes, they look very well," said Mr. Linden coolly. + +"Julius!" said Mrs. Somers, laying hold of the elbow of the suggestive +coat, "what do you mean by keeping Mr. Linden and yourself back here. +That's the way with you young men--stand off and gaze at a safe +distance, and then make believe you're fire proof." + +"Don't make believe anything, aunt Ellen," said the young man lightly. +"Prove me. You can take me up to the cannon's mouth--or any other!--and +see if I am afraid of it." + +"I shall prove you before I take you anywhere," said Mrs. Somers. "You +needn't talk to me in that style. But it's a little hard upon the boys +to keep Mr. Linden here out of sight,--half of them don't know whether +they're on their head or their heels till they see him, I can tell from +their faces." + +"Mr. Linden," said the doctor with a gesture of invitation to his +companion,--"shall we go? Does it depend upon your face which of the +positions mentioned is to be assumed?" + +The two gentlemen accordingly threaded their way to the scene of +action; passing, among others, Squire Deacon and Mr. Simlins whom Mr. +Linden greeted together. Mr. Simlins' answer was a mighty grasp of the +hand. Squire Deacon's deserved little attention, and got it. + +The party were now on the lawn, at one side of which the boys had +clustered and were standing in expectation. + +"I think, Mr. Linden," said the doctor, "if you will explain to the +boys what is to become of them in the next hour, I will go and see +about the fair distributor of the favours--and then I suppose we shall +be ready." + +It was well Dr. Harrison chose such a messenger,--no one else could +have brought quietness out of those few dismayed minutes when the boys +first learned what was 'to become of them'; and the Judge would have +felt remorseful about his secret, had he seen the swift wings on which +Pleasure took her departure from the little group. It took all Mr. +Linden's skill, not to enforce submission, but to bring pleasure back; +perhaps nothing less than his half laughing half serious face and +words, could have kept some of the boys from running away altogether. +And while some tried to beg off, and some made manful efforts not to +feel afraid, others made desperate efforts to remember; and some of the +little ones could be reassured by nothing but the actual holding of Mr. +Linden's hand in theirs. So they stood, grouped in and out the trees at +the further edge of the lawn, till their teacher disengaged himself and +came back to the house, leaving the parting directions--to say what +they knew, and not try to say what they knew not. + +Meanwhile Dr. Harrison had found his sister, and after a little +consulting the two had pressed their father into the service; and then +the three sought Faith. She was discovered at last on the other lawn, +by one of the tables, Miss Harrison having dismayfully recollected that +she had asked Faith to help her dress them, and then had left her all +alone to do it. But Faith was not all alone; for Mr Simlins stood there +like a good-natured ogre, watching her handling and disposing of the +green leaves and late flowers with which she was surrounded, and now +and then giving a most extraordinary suggestion as to the same. + +"Faith," said Miss Harrison after she had introduced her brother,--"I +want you to give these favours to the boys. Somebody must do it, and I +can't--and you must!" + +"You see, my dear," said Judge Harrison, "Sophy and Julius want their +fete to go off as prettily as possible; and so they want you to do this +for them because you're the prettiest girl here." + +"Then I can't do it, sir," said Faith. She blushed very prettily, to be +sure, but she spoke very quietly. + +"Faith! you will do it for me?" said Miss Harrison. + +"I can't, Sophy." + +"Nobody would do it so well as you--half!" + +"But I can't do it at all." And Faith went on leafing her dishes. + +"I dare put in no petition of my own," said the doctor then; "but I +will venture to ask on the part of Mr. Linden, that you will do him and +the school such a service." + +Faith's dark eyes opened slightly. "Did he ask you, sir?" + +"I cannot answer that," said the doctor, a little taken aback. "I have +presumed on what I am sure are his wishes." + +He did not know what to make of her smile, nor of the simplicity with +which Faith answered, in spite of her varying colour, + +"You have been mistaken, sir." + +The doctor gave it up and said he was very sorry. + +"Then who _shall_ do it?" said Miss Harrison. "Miss Essie de Staff?" + +"She'll do," said the Judge. And the doctor, raising his eyebrows a +little, and dropping his concern, offered his arm to Faith to go to the +scene of action. So it happened that as Mr. Linden entered the hall +from one side door, he met the whole party coming in from the other, +the doctor carrying the basket of blue and red favours which he had +taken to present to Faith. But he stood still to let them pass, taking +the full effect of the favours, the doctor, the red leaves and their +white-robed wearer; and then followed in his turn. + +All the inhabitants of the house and grounds were now fast gathering on +the other lawn. Miss Sophy and her father separated different ways, the +former taking the basket to commit it to Miss de Staff; and the doctor +being obliged to go to his place in the performance, left his charge +where he might. But nobody minded his neighbour now; Faith did not; the +boys were drawn up in a large semicircle, and the doctor taking his +place in front of them, all in full view of the assembled townsmen of +Pattaquasset, proceeded to his duty of examiner. + +He did it well. He was evidently, to those who could see it, thoroughly +at home himself in all the subjects upon which he touched and made the +boys touch; so thoroughly, that he knew skilfully _where_ to touch, and +what to expect of them. He shewed himself a generous examiner too; he +keenly enough caught the weak and strong points in the various minds he +was dealing with, and gracefully enough brought the good to light, and +only shewed the other so much as was needful for his purposes. He did +not catch, nor entrap, nor press hardly; the boys had fair play but +they had favour too. + +The boys, on their part, were not slow to discover his good qualities; +and it was certainly a comfort to them to know that they were acquitted +or condemned on right grounds. Beyond that, there were curious traits +of character brought to light, for those who had eyes to read them. + +The two head boys--Reuben Taylor and Sam Stoutenburgh, though but +little apart in their scholarship were widely different in the +manifestation thereof. Sam Stoutenburgh's rather off-hand, dashing +replies, generally hit the mark; but the steady, quiet clearheadedness +of Reuben not only placed him in advance, but gave indications which no +one could read who had not the key to his character. He coloured +sometimes, but it was from modesty; while part of Sam Stoutenburgh's +blushes came from his curls. Little Johnny Fax, by dint of fixing his +eyes upon Mr. Linden's far-off form (he had been petitioned to stand in +sight) went bravely through his short part of the performance; and +proved that he knew what he knew, if he didn't know much; and of the +rest there need nothing be said. + +Among the lookers-on there were also indications. To those who did not +know him, Mr. Linden's face looked as unmoved as the pillar against +which he leaned,--yet the varying play of light and shade upon the one +was well repeated in the other. Squire Stoutenburgh nodded and smiled, +to himself and his neighbours, and made little aside +observations--"_That_ told, sir!"--"Always was a good +boy!--studious."--"Yes--Reuben Taylor does well--very well, considering +who his father is." + +That father the while, stood alone--even beyond the outskirts of the +gay party. With Miss Cilly's blue dress he had nothing in common--as +little with Faith's spotless white. Dark, weatherbeaten, dressed for +his boat and the clam banks, he stood there on the green turf as if in +a trance. Unable to follow one question or answer, his eager eye caught +every word of Reuben's voice; his intent gaze read first the assurance +that it would be right, then the assurance that it was. The whole world +might have swept by him in a pageant--and he would scarcely have turned +to look! + +There was one other listener perhaps, whose interest was as rapt as +his; that was Faith. But her interest was of more manifold character. +There was the natural feeling for and with the boys; and there was +sympathy for their instructor and concern for his honour, which latter +grew presently to be a very gratified concern. Then also Dr. Harrison's +examination was a matter of curious novelty; and back of all that, lay +in Faith's mind a deep, searching, pressing interest in the subject +matters of it. What of all that, _she_ knew,--how little,--and how much +the boys;--how vastly much Dr. Harrison; what far-reaching fields of +knowledge there were in some people's minds. Where was Faith's mind +going? Yet she was almost as outwardly quiet as Mr. Linden himself. All +her shew of feeling was in the intent eye, the grave face, and a little +deepening and deepening tinge in her cheeks. + +The questioning and answering was over--the boys were all in their +ranks--there was a little hush and stir of expectancy,--and Dr. +Harrison gave his hand to a very bright lady with a basket and led her +to a position by his side, filling the eye of the whole assembly. Faith +looked over to her with a tiny giving way of the lips which meant a +great self-gratulation that she was not in the lady's place. There she +stood, very much at home apparently,--Miss Essie de Staff, as fifty +mouths said at once. She was rather a little lady, not very young, nor +old; dressed in a gay-coloured plaid silk, with a jaunty little black +apron with pockets, black hair in curls behind her ears, and a glitter +of jewelry. It was not false jewelry, nor ill put on, and this was Miss +Essie de Staff. She belonged to the second great family of +Pattaquasset; she too had been abroad and had seen life like the +Harrisons; but somehow she had seen it in a different way; and while +the de Staffs had the shew, the Harrisons always had the reality of +precedence in the town. + +And Dr. Harrison, raising slightly again his voice, which was a +melodious one, said, + +"The ladies of Pattaquasset intend to honour with a blue ribband the +five elder boys who have spoken best; and with a favour of red ribband +the five little boys who have done the same on their part. Miss Essie +de Staff will do us the honour to bestow them.--Reuben Taylor, will you +come forward--here, if you please." + +The 'favours' made a little stir among the group; and Reuben, who had +been too much absorbed in the examination for its own sake to think +much of the question of precedence, came forward at first with +hesitation--then steadily and firmly. + +Miss Essie stepped a little forward to meet him, gave her basket to +Doctor Harrison, and taking a blue favour from it she smilingly +attached the same securely to the left breast of Reuben's coat. + +"Don't leave your place," said the doctor to him in a low tone;--"I +mean," he added smiling,--"go back to it and stay there.--Sam +Stoutenburgh!"-- + +The doctor spoke like a man a little amused at himself for the part he +was playing, but he did it well, nevertheless. And Reuben, who would +fain have put himself and his blue ribband out of sight behind the +rest, went back to his place, while Sam stepped briskly forward and +received the decoration in turn. Very different his air from +Reuben's,--very different Reuben's grave and grateful bend of the head +from the way in which Sam's hand covered at once his heart and the blue +ribband. The four boys next in degree to Reuben were severally invested +with their blue stars. + +"Johnny Fax!"--said Dr. Harrison. "Miss Essie, you are laying us under +nameless obligations.--Johnny, come and get your ribband." + +Johnny came--looking first at Dr. Harrison and then at Miss Essie, as +if a little uncertain what they were going to do with him; but +apparently the fluttering red favour pleased his fancy, for he smiled a +little, and then looked quite away over Miss Essie's shoulder as she +bent towards him. For which neglect of the lady's face his youth and +inexperience must account. But when the favour was on, Johnny's eyes +came back, and he said simply, + +"Thank you, ma'am. Shall I keep it always?" + +"By all means!" said Miss Essie. "Never part with it." + +The five little fellows were made splendid; and then there was a pause. +Miss Essie stepped back and was lost. Doctor Harrison made a sign with +his hand, and two servants came on the lawn bringing between them a +table covered with a red cloth. It was set down before Dr. Harrison and +his sister came beside him. + +"My dear friends," said the doctor raising his voice again, and giving +his sister at the same time the benefit of a slight play of face which +others were not so situated they could see,--"You have all done +yourselves and somebody else, a great deal of credit. I hope you will +thank him;--as we wish to shew our pleasure to you. It was not to be +expected that everybody would be first this time--though on the next +occasion I have no doubt that will prove to be the case; but as we +could not of course in consequence give stars to all, we will do the +best we can. Reuben Taylor--" + +Again Reuben came forward; the doctor had pulled off the red cloth, and +a tempting pile of books, large and small and nicely bound, rose up to +view upon the table. And Miss Harrison as Reuben came near, chose out +one of the best and handed it to him, saying softly, "You have done +very well." + +Now Miss Sophy Harrison was, as everyone knew and said, thoroughly good +and kind, like her father. She had chosen the books. And the one she +had given Reuben was a very nice copy of the Pilgrim's Progress. She +might have felt herself repaid by the one earnest look his eyes gave +her,--then he bowed silently and retired. + +The list would be too long to go through. Every one was pleased this +time; the Harrisons had done the thing well; and it may only be noted +in passing that Johnny Fax's delight and red ribband were crowned and +finished oil with an excellent Robinson Crusoe. Then broke up and +melted off the assembled throng, like--I want a simile,--like the +scattering of a vapoury cloud in the sky. It was everywhere and nowhere +directly--that which before had been a distinct mass. + +"Faith," said Miss Cecilia, almost before this process or dispersion +commenced,--"where _did_ you get such a pretty nosegay this time of +year?" + +"They grew--" said Faith smiling. + +"Did they come out of your own garden." + +"We don't keep oak trees in our garden." + +"I declare! it's elegant. Faith, give me just one of those red leaves, +won't you? I want it." + +"No indeed!" said Faith, starting back and shielding the oak leaves +with her hand, as that of Miss Deacon approached them. "What are you +thinking of?" + +"Thinking of!" said Cecilia colouring. "So, Faith, I hear you've set up +for a school teacher?" + +"I've one little scholar," said Faith quietly. "That isn't much +'setting up,' Cecilia." + +"One scholar!" said Cecilia contemptuously. "Didn't you go over with +all the boys to Neanticut the other day?" + +"Yes," said Faith laughing, "indeed I did; but I assure you I didn't go +to teach school." + +"Miss Derrick," said Dr. Harrison, offering his arm to Faith,--"my +sister begs the favour of your assistance--instantly and urgently--you +know I presume for what?" + +"Yes, I know, Dr. Harrison," said Faith smiling--"I left it +unfinished"-- + +And the two walked away together. + +"Seems to me, Mr. Simlins," said Squire Deacon, watching Faith and her +convoy with a certain saturnine satisfaction; "I say it seems to me, +that the Judge aint making the thing right side upwards. The boys get +all the prizes--without Dr. Harrison thinks _he_ has, and the teacher +don't seem to be much count. Now what a handsomer thing it would have +been to make the boys get _him_ something with their own hard cash,--a +pleasure boat--" added the Squire, "or a Bible--or anything of that +sort. I thought all this philustration was to set _him_ up." + +Mr. Simlins gave a kind of grunt. + +"It haint pulled him _down_ much," he said,--"as I see. And I suppose +Judge Harrison thinks that drivin' wedges under a church steeple is a +surrogate work--without he saw it was topplin'." + +Without getting any too clear a notion of the meaning of these +words--it took a lively imagination to follow Mr. Simlins in some of +his flights, the Squire yet perceived enough to stay his own words a +little; and he passed away the tedium of the next few minutes by +peering round the corner of the house and getting far-off glimpses of +Faith. + +"She looks 'most like a spectral illusion," he said admiringly. "The +tablecloths aint bleached a bit whiter 'n her dress." + +"She aint no more like a spectre than I'm like a ghost," said Mr. +Simlins. "Washin' and ironin' 'll make a white frock for any woman." + +Then stalking up to Mr. Linden accosted him grimly, after his fashion. +"Well Mr. Linden--what d' you think of that farm at Neanticut? don't +you want to take it of me?" + +"There are too many fences between me and it," was the smiling reply. + +"It's good land," Mr. Simlins went on; "you can't do better than settle +down there. I'd like to have you for a tenant--give you the land easy." + +"Let me pay you in nuts?" said Mr. Linden. + +But then came up other farmers and heads of families to claim Mr. +Linden's attention; men whose boys were at the school; and who now in +various states of gratification, but all gratified, came one after +another to grasp his hand and thank him for the good he had done and +was doing them. + +"You're the first man, sir," said one, a broad-shouldered, tall, strong +man, with a stern reserved face,--"you're the first man that has been +able to make that boy of mine--Phil--attend to anything, or go to +school regular. He talks hard sometimes,--but you do what you like with +him, Mr. Linden! I give you my leave. He's smart, and he aint a bad +boy, at heart; but he's wild, and he has his own way and it aint always +a good one. His mother never had any government of him," said the +father, looking towards the identical person whom Dr. Harrison had +characterized as 'the perspective of a woman,' and who certainly had +the air of one whose mind--what she had--was shut up and shut off into +the further extremities of possibility. + +Then came up Judge Harrison. + +"Well, Mr. Linden, I hope you have been gratified. I have. I declare I +have!--very much. You are doing a great thing for us here, sir; and I +don't doubt it is a gratification to you to know it. I haven't made up +my mind what we shall do to thank _you_--we've been thanking the +boys--but that's, you know,--that's a political expedient. My heart's +in the other thing." + +"Squire Deacon was givin' me about the same perspective of the case," +said Mr. Simlins,--"only he thought he warnt the one to do the +thaukin'." + +Mr. Linden's face, through all these various gratulations, had been a +study. One part of his nature answered, eye to eye and hand to hand, +the thanks and pleasure so variously expressed. But back of that lay +something else,--a something which gave even his smile a tinge,--it was +the face of one who + + "Patiently, and still expectant, + Looked out through the wooden bars." + + +Sometimes grave, at others a queer sense of his own position seemed to +touch him; and his manner might then remind one of a swift-winged +bird--who walking about on the grass for business purposes, is +complimented by a company of crickets on his superior powers of +locomotion. And it was with almost a start that he answered Judge +Harrison-- + +"Thank _me_, sir? I don't think I deserve any thanks." + +"I am sure we owe them," said the Judge,--"but that's another view of +the case, I know. Well--it's a good kind of debt to owe--and to pay!--" + +And he was lost again among some other of his guests. In the gradual +shifting and melting away of groups, it happened that Mr. Linden found +himself for a moment alone, when the doctor again approached him. + +"Did I do your office well?" he said gently, and half putting his arm +through Mr. Linden's as if to lead him to the house. + +The answer was laughingly given-- + + "'What poet would not mourn to see + His brother write as well as he?'" + + +"Well," said the doctor, answering the tone, "did I hit your boys?--the +right ones?" + +"My boys in point of scholarship?--yes, almost as carefully as I +should." + +"I am glad you were satisfied," said the doctor;--"and I'm glad it's +over!--What sort of a life do you lead here in Pattaquasset? I don't +know it. How can one get along here?" + +He spoke in a careless sort of confidential manner, as perfectly aware +that his companion was able to answer him. They were very slowly +sauntering up to the house. + +"One can get along here in various ways--" said Mr. Linden,--"as in +other places. One can (_if_ one can) subside to the general level, or +one can (with the like qualification) rise above it. The paths through +Pattaquasset are in no wise peculiar, yet by no means alike." + +"No," said the doctor, with another side look at him--"I suppose as +much. I see you're a philosopher. Do you carry a spirit-level about +with you?" + +"Define--" said Mr. Linden, with a smile which certainly belonged to +the last philosopher he had been in company with. + +"I see you do," said the doctor. "What's your opinion of philosophy? +that it adds to the happiness of the world in general?" + +"You ask broad questions, Dr. Harrison--considering the many kinds of +philosophy, and the unphilosophical state of the world in general." + +The doctor laughed a little. "I don't know," said he,--"I sometimes +think the terms have changed sides, and that 'the world in general' has +really the best of it. But do you know what particular path in +Pattaquasset we are treading at this minute?" + +"A path where philosophy and happiness are supposed to part company, I +imagine," said Mr. Linden. + +"Pre-cisely--" said the doctor. "By the way, if anything in my father's +house or library can be of the least convenience to you while you are +travelling the somewhat unfurnished ways of Pattaquasset, I hope you +will use both as your own.--Yes, I am taking you to the supper +table--or indeed they are plural to-night--Sophy, I have brought Mr. +Linden to you, and I leave you to do what you will with him!" + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + +With a slight congee the doctor left thorn and went back again; and +then came the full rush of all the guests, small and great. Miss +Harrison claimed Mr. Linden's assistance to marshal and arrange the +boys at their table--one being given specially to them; and then +established him as well as circumstances permitted at another--between +Miss Cecilia Deacon and Miss Essie de Staff. Miss Harrison herself did +not sit down. The guests were many, the servants far too few; and Miss +Harrison and her brother with one or two helpers, of whom Faith was +one, went round from table to table; attending to everybody's wants. +The supply of all eatables and drinkables was ample and perfect enough; +but without the quick and skilful eyes and hands of these educated +waiters, the company could not have been entirely put in possession of +them. So Faith's red oak leaves did after all adorn the entertainment, +and publicly, though most unconsciously on her part. + +"Reuben," she whispered at his shoulder, "there are no roast clams +here--shall I give you some jelly? I see you have got substantials." + +"No thank you, Miss Faith," said Reuben--adding with some hesitation, +"I believe it's ungrateful in me, but I don't want to eat." + +"Are you eating your book all the while? I am so glad, Reuben! Where is +your father?" + +"I think he's home, Miss Faith--he must be by this time." + +"Home! I'm sorry. I've been looking for him. Sam--what can I get you? +coffee?" + +"Miss Faith!" said Sam standing up in his place, "I'd rather have one +of those leaves you've been wearing all day than all the coffee that +ever was burnt!" + +"Leaves! you foolish boy," said Faith, her own colour in an instant +emulating them, and as before her hand went up to shield them. "I can't +give you one of these, Sam--I'll bring you some coffee." + +Away she ran, coming back presently with a cup and a piece of jelly +cake, bestowing a fellow piece upon Reuben, + +"You can get plenty of oak leaves anywhere, Sam," she said laughing a +little. + +"But you haven't worn 'em, Miss Faith--and I can't keep this!" said Sam +surveying the cake with a very serio-comic face. + +"Well, who wants to?" said Joe Deacon. "Hand us over the other cake, +that's got nothing between. If you're settin' up to get round anybody, +Sam Stoutenburgh, you'll find there's two or three in a bunch--I tell +you." Which remark Faith was happily too far off to hear. + +"Faith," said Mrs. Somers, leaning back and stopping her as she passed; +"do you know why I let Sophy keep you running about so?" + +"I like to do it, Mrs. Somers." + +"Well that's not the reason. You ought to sit up at the head of the +table for your skill in arranging flowers. I didn't know it was in you, +child." + +And Mrs. Somers bent closer to Faith to take the breath of the roses, +but softly for she loved flowers herself. + +Faith bore it jealously, for she was afraid of another invading hand; +and blushing at the praise she could not disclaim ran away as soon as +she was free. But as the tide of supper-time began to ebb, the doctor +arrested Faith in her running about and saying that his sister had had +no supper yet and wanted company, led her to the place his aunt had +spoken of, a clear space at one end of the table, where the doctor also +discovered _he_ had taken no supper. The rest of the party sat at ease, +or began to scatter again about the grounds. A new attraction was +appearing there, in the shape of Chinese lanterns, which the servants +and others were attaching in great numbers to the trees and shrubbery. +The sun went down, the shades of evening were fast gathering. At last +Miss Harrison rose. + +"When the lamps are lit, Miss Derrick," said the doctor as they +followed her example, "there is a particular effect which I will have +the pleasure of shewing you--if you will allow me." + +"Dr. Harrison, how do _you_ do!" said a voice that sounded +like--perhaps as much like the bark of a red squirrel as anything; and +a little figure, with everything faded but her ribbands, and everything +full but her cheeks, looked up with a pair of good, kind, honest eyes +into the doctor's face. "It makes a body feel young--or old--I don't +know which, to see you again," she said. "Though indeed I know just how +old you are, without looking into the Bible. Not but that's a good +place to look, for various things. And there's a great variety of +things there,--if a body had time to read 'em all, which I haven't. I +used to read like a scribe when I was young--till my eyes got bad; but +a body can't do much without eyes, especially when they have to sew all +the time, as I do. I always did think it was one indemnification for +being a man, that a body wouldn't have to sew. Nor do much of anything +else--for 'man works from sun to sun, but a woman's work is never +done.' And I always think the work after sundown comes hardest--it does +to me, because my eyes are so bad.--Well, Miss Cilly! don't your dress +fit!"--It may be proper to mention that this last sentence was a little +undertone. + +"You have given me, Miss Bezac," said the doctor, "what I have wanted +all my life until now--an indemnification for being a man!" + +"Is that the way they talk over in France?" said Miss Bezac--"well, it +don't make a body want to go there, there's that about it. And there +always is something about everything. And I've something to say to you, +Faith, so don't you run away. You've done running enough for one day, +besides." + +Faith was in no danger of running away. For while Miss Bezac was +running off her sentences, a little low voice at Faith's side said +"Ma'am!"--by way of modestly drawing her attention to Johnny Fax and +his red ribband. + +Faith stooped down to be nearer the level of the red ribband. + +"You did bravely, Johnny. And you got a book too. I guess Mr. Linden +was pleased with you to-night," she added softly. + +"O he's always pleased with me," said Johnny simply. "But I wasn't +brave, ma'am,--I was frightened." Then in a lower tone, as if he were +telling a great secret, Johnny added, + +"I'm coming to you next Sunday if it's cold weather"--and looked up in +her face to see the effect of this mysterious announcement. + +"You, Johnny!" said Faith, with a flash of remembrance of the time she +had last seen him, which made her almost sorrowful. "Well, dear--we'll +do the best we can," she added in a tone which was sweet at least as +tenderness could make it. The child looked at her a little wistfully. + +"Mr. Linden says he don't think I'm big enough to keep warm out of +doors any more," he said with childish inexplicitness. + +"I don't think you are," said Faith. "Well, Johnny--you come to me next +Sunday, and we'll try!"--And she gave him, what Sam Stoutenburgh would +probably have mortgaged his life for,--a soft touch of her lips upon +his cheek. And Sam Stoutenburgh was not far off. + +"Miss Faith!" he said as she rose to her former position,--"stand out +of the way, Johnny, there's a good boy!--mayn't I see you home +to-night? Please don't refuse me everything!" + +"There isn't room in the wagon, Sam," said Faith. + +"Are you going to ride?" said Sam. "But I may go with you to the wagon?" + +"Yes if you like," said Faith looking a little puzzled and amused. "I +suppose you may." + +"Are there any more to come?" said Miss Bezac, whose patience had +outlasted that of Dr. Harrison,--"because if there are, I'd rather +wait--I don't like to be stopped when once I begin. And if I was you, +Faith--(how pretty you look!)--I'd keep still and not let my head be +turned; the old direction's the best; and after all directions are more +than dresses. For what's the odds between an embroidered vest and a +plain one? Not that it's much to embroider it--I used to fiddle faddle +many a one, till I lost my eyes; and I'll teach you to do it in a +minute, if you like." With which kind and lucid proposal, Miss Bezac +put her hand softly on Faith's waist and smoothed out an imaginary +wrinkle in the white dress. + +"Dear Miss Bezac," said Faith, not losing her amused look,--"I don't +want to embroider waistcoats. What are you talking of?" + +"I know--" said Miss Bezac, "and I suppose that's enough. If folks +don't know what you mean they can't say anything against it. But you +don't know what you want, child,--any more than I did. And do you know, +sometimes I wish I'd never found out? But whenever you do know, you can +come to me; and I'll fix you off so you won't know yourself. It's a +pleasant way to lose a body's identity, I can tell you. Now give me a +kiss and I'll go, for I live 'tother side of creation--where you never +come; and why you don't come, and bring him, I don't see--but I've seen +him, in spite of you. Here he comes, too"--said Miss Bezac, "so I'll be +off." + +There was such a variety of confusions in this speech that Faith was +hopeless of setting them right. She stood looking at the speaker, and +did not try. However, everybody was accustomed to Miss Bezac's +confusions. + +"Are you pledged to stand still on this particular spot?" Mr. Linden +said at her side. + +"No indeed," said Faith with ready smile,--"but people have been +talking to me--" + +"Yes, and there is no telling how many I shall interfere with if I take +you away now." + +"I don't care--" said Faith. "Only Dr. Harrison said he wanted to shew +me something when the lamps were lit." + +"When they are lighting? or when they are lit?" + +"When they are lit, he said." + +"Well they are not lit yet," said Mr. Linden, "and before they are I +want you to get a view of people and things in twilight perspective. +For which purpose, Miss Faith, I must take you to the extreme verge of +society and the lawn--if you will let me." + +"I would like to go anywhere you please, Mr. Linden." And Faith's face +gave modest token that she would like it very much. + +He gave her his arm, and then by skilful navigation kept clear of the +groups most likely to interrupt their progress; passing rather towards +the boy quarter, making Sam Stoutenburgh sigh and Joe Deacon whistle, +with the most frigid disregard of their feelings. The shrubbery at the +foot of the lawn was in more than twilight now, and its deeper shadow +was good to look out from; giving full effect to the dying light on +earth and sky. The faint rosecoloured clouds hung over a kaleidoscope +of dresses, which was ever shifting and making new combinations, +passing into black spots in the shadow of the trees, or forming a broad +spread of patchwork on the open lawn. The twilight perspective was far +more witching than the sunlight full view. + +"How pretty that is!" said Faith delightedly. "Thank you, Mr. Linden. I +don't believe Dr. Harrison will shew me any effect so good as this. How +pretty and odd it is!" + +"Don't you know," he said, "that you never should thank me for doing +pleasant things?" + +"Why, Mr. Linden?" she said in a tone a little checked. + +"Why?--because I like to do them." + +"Well," she said laughing slightly, "that makes me want to thank you +more." + +"It don't make me deserve the thanks, however. Do you perceive the +distant blue of Miss Cecilia's dress? does it make you think of the +blue ether over your head?" + +"Not the least!" said Faith much amused. "What makes you ask me that, +Mr. Linden?" + +"I should like to hear why it does not?" + +"The two things are so very, very far apart," Faith said, after a +moment's consideration. "I don't see what could make me think of them +together. The only thing is that both are blue, but I should have to +think to remember that." + +"You haven't answered me yet," he said smiling. "Why are they far +apart?--your blue gentians there, are as far below the sky in number of +miles--yet from them to the sky the transition is easy." + +"Yes--" said Faith looking down at her blue gentian. "Why is it, Mr. +Linden? But this is God's work too," she added softly. + +"I suppose that is the deep root of the matter. The ruined harp of +man's nature yet answers to a breath from heaven as to no other touch. +Then blue has been so long the emblem of truth, that separated from +truth one can scarce, as you say, realize what colour it is." + +"Then Mr. Linden," said Faith after a moment's silence, with the tone +and the look of quick pleasure,--"is _this_ what you mean by 'reading' +things?" + +"Yes--" he said with a smile, + + "'To rightly spell + Of every star that heaven doth shew, + And every herb that sips the dew.'" + + +"But how far can you read?" said Faith. "And I never thought of such +reading till--till a little while ago! How far can you read, Mr. +Linden?" + +"I don't know," he said,--"because I don't know how far I _cannot_ +read! Yet if 'the invisible things of God' may be known 'by the things +which are seen,' there is at least room for ample study. To some +people, Miss Faith, the world is always (with the change of one +adjective) an incomprehensible little green book; while others read a +few pages now, and look forward to knowing the whole hereafter." + +There was a pause, a little longer than usual. + +"And you say I must not thank you?"--Faith said very low. + +"I say I think you have no cause." + +She was silent. + +"Has the day been pleasant?" Mr. Linden asked, as they walked up and +down. + +"Yes, very pleasant. I liked what you didn't like, Mr. Linden--all that +examination business. And I was very glad for Reuben and little Johnny." + +"How do you know I didn't like it?" + +"I don't 'know'--I thought you didn't," she said looking at him. + +"You don't like to say why?" + +"Yes! I thought you didn't like it, Mr. Linden, when Judge Harrison +first proposed it. You wished he would give us the pleasure without the +shewing off." + +"Well, did you also know," he said with a peculiar little smile, "that +one of my best scholars was not examined?" + +"No--who do you mean?" she said earnestly. + +He laughed, and answered, + +"One who would perhaps prefer a private examination at home--and to +whom I have thought of proposing it." + +"An examination?" said Faith, wondering and with considerable +heightening of colour, either at the proposal or at the rank among +scholars assigned her. + +"You need not be frightened," Mr. Linden said gravely--"if anybody +should be, it is I, at my own boldness. I am a little afraid to go on +now--though it is something I have long wanted to say to you." + +"What is it, Mr. Linden?" she said timidly. + +"I have thought--" he paused a moment, and then went quietly on. "You +have given me reason to think, that there are other desirable things +besides French of which you have no knowledge. I have wished very much +to ask you what they are, and that you would let me--so far as I +can--supply the deficiency." It was said with simple frankness, yet +with a manner that fully recognized the delicate ground he was on. + +The rush of blood to Faith's face he could see by the lamplight, but +she hesitated for an answer, and hesitated,--and her head was bent with +the weight of some feeling. + +"I should be too glad, Mr. Linden!" she said at last, very low, but +with unmistakeable emphasis. + +"Then if you will let me see to-morrow what you are doing with that +other little book, I will see what companions it should have." And +warned by the kindling lamps on every side, he led the way a little +more into the open lawn, that Faith might at least be found if sought. +That allowed him to see too, the look he had raised in her face; the +little smile on the lips, the flush of colour, the stir of deep +pleasure that kept her from speaking. Yet when they had taken a few +steps on the broad lawn and other people would soon be nearing them, +she suddenly said, softly, + +"What 'other' book do you mean, Mr. Linden?" + +"I don't know how many there may be, Miss Faith, but I _meant_ one +which I tried to get at the store one day, and found that the last copy +had passed into your hands." + +"The arithmetic!" said Faith. "That was how you knew it.--There is Dr. +Harrison looking for me!" she added, in a tone which gentle as it was +would have turned that gentleman to the right about if he had heard +it--which he did not--and if he had not been indifferent on the point +of all such tones,--which he was. + +"Stars shine by their own light!" said the doctor as he came up. "I +have no need to ask, 'Where is Miss Derrick?' Your Quercus rubra there +is brilliant at any distance, with a red gleam. You have Mars on your +breast, and Hesperus in your eye! It is heaven on earth!" + +Faith could not choose but laugh at the mixture of gallantry and fun +and flattery in the doctor's manner, though his meaning was, to her, +doubtful. Other answer she made none. + +"And so," said Mr. Linden, "you make the stars shine by their own +light, and Miss Derrick by the light of the stars!" + +"Advances constantly making in the sciences!" said the doctor with a +wave of his hand. "I dare say you are a better astronomer than I am;--I +haven't kept up with the latest discoveries. But Mr. Linden, may I +interfere with your heaven for a moment, and persuade these stars to +shine, for that length of time, upon less favoured regions? With +another revolution of the earth they will rise upon you again." + +"I shall not persuade the stars for you," said Mr. Linden. + +"I will endeavour so far," said the doctor turning to Faith. "I had the +honour to offer to shew Miss Derrick the peculiar effect of Chinese +lanterns in Pattaquasset--may I hope that she will allow me to fulfil +my promise?" + +He took possession of Faith, and with a graceful "Au revoir!"--to Mr. +Linden, led her away. + +The effect of the lanterns was very pretty, and to her eyes very +curious. So were the lanterns themselves, be fore one and another of +which Faith stopped and looked with charmed eyes, and the doctor +nothing loth gave her charming details. + +"After all, it is only child's play," he said as he turned away. "Why +should we want Pattaquasset to look like China?" + +"For one night?" said Faith. + +"Well, for one night," said the doctor. "But you haven't got little +feet on, have you?" said he looking down at the edge of Faith's white +dress in mock alarm;--"I shouldn't like the transformation to go too +far." + +Faith laughed. + +"Reassure me," said the doctor. "Nothing can be more unlike the Mongol +type than the pure Circassian I have before me,--yet let me see the +slipper. I want to be sure that all is right." + +He persisted, and to stop the absurdity of the thing, Faith shewed him, +not indeed her slipper, but the most un-Chinese, un-French, neat little +shoe thick enough for walking, in which she had come to Judge +Harrison's party. + +"Alarmingly near!" said the doctor peering at it--"but the proportions +are perfect. It is not Chinese. Thank you. I have seen so many odd +things in my life, Miss Derrick,--and people,--that I never know what +to expect; and _anything_ right from head to foot, is a marvel." + +They moved on again and sauntered round and round in the paths of the +shrubbery, Faith hardly knew whither. In truth the doctor's +conversation was amusing enough to leave her little care. Very few +indeed were the words he drew from her; but with all their simplicity +and modesty, he seemed to be convinced that there was something behind +them worth pleasing; at least he laid himself out to please. He easily +found that what she knew of life and the world was very little, and +that she was very ready to take any glimpses he would give her into the +vast unknown regions so well known to him. Always in his manner +carelessly graceful, Faith never dreamed of the real care with which he +brought up subjects, and discussed them, that he thought would interest +her. He told of distant countries and scenes--he detailed at length +foreign experiences--he described people--he gave her pictures of +manners and customs,--all new to her ears, strange and delightful; and +so easily yet so masterly given, that she took it all in an easy full +flow of pleasure. So it happened that Faith did not very well know how +they turned and wound in and out through the walks; she was in +Switzerland and at Paris and at Rome, all the while. + +She came back pretty suddenly to Pattaquasset. As they paused to watch +the glitter of one of the lamps on the shining leaves of a holly tree, +several of the boys, seeking their own pleasure, came sauntering by. +The last of these had time to observe her, and swaggering close up +under her face said, loud enough to be heard, + +"You aint, neither!--I know you aint. Reuben Taylor says you aint." + +The lamplight did not serve to reveal Faith's changes of face and +colour, neither did Dr. Harrison wait to observe them. + +"What do you mean, sir?" he said, catching hold of the boy's arm. "Why +do you speak so to a lady?--_what_ isn't she?" + +"Somebody's sweetheart," said the boy resolutely. "She aint. Reuben +Taylor says she aint." + +"_You_'ll never be, my fine fellow," said the doctor letting him +go,--"if you don't learn more discretion. I must tell Mr. Linden his +boys want a trifle of something besides Algebra. _That_ don't give all +the relative values of things." + +"Pray do not! don't speak of it, Dr. Harrison!" said Faith. + +He tried to see her face, but he could not. + +"Hardly worth while," he said lightly. "Boys will be boys--which is an +odd way of excusing them for not being civilized things. However if you +excuse him, I will." + +Faith said nothing. She was trying to get over the sudden jar of those +words. They had not told her anything she did not believe--she thought +no other; but they gave her nevertheless a keen stir of pain--a revival +of the pain she had quieted at Neanticut; and somehow this was worse +than that. Could Reuben Taylor talk about her so?--could Reuben Taylor +have any _authority_ for doing it? But that question would not stand +answering. Faith's red oak leaves were a little AEgis to her then, a +tangible precious representative of all the answer that question would +not wait for. No sting of pain could enter that way. But the pain was +bad enough; and under the favouring shadowy light of the lamps she +strove and strove to quiet it; while the doctor went on talking. + +"Indeed,"--said he--going on with the subject of Phil's speech,--"I am +obliged to him for his information--which was of course incorrect. But +I am very glad to hear it nevertheless. Other people's sweethearts, you +know, are 'tabooed'--sacred ground--not to be approached without danger +to all concerned. But now--if you will allow me, I think I shall claim +you for mine." + +Whatever _look_ the words may have, they did not sound rude. They were +said with a careless half-amused, half gentle manner, which might leave +his hearer in doubt whether the chief purpose of them were not to fall +pleasantly on her ear and drive away any disagreeable remainders of +Phil's insolence. But Faith scarce heard him. She was struggling with +that unbidden pain, and trying with all the simplicity and truth of her +nature and with the stronger help she had learned to seek, to fight it +down. She had never thought such an utterly vain thought as that +suggested in Phil's words; in her humility and modesty she chid herself +that it should have come into her head even when other people's words +had forced it there. Her humility was very humble now. And in it she +quietly took up with the good she had, of which her roses were even +then breathing sweet reminders in her face; putting from her all +thought of good that did not belong to her and she could not deserve. + +The uncertain light favoured her well, or Dr. Harrison would have seen +too much of her face-play. They had been going on and on, and the +doctor had been as usual talking, and she had managed now and then to +seem to give an answer--she never remembered to what; and her part in +the conversation all along had been so modestly small that the doctor +hardly knew when or whether she had ceased to comprehend him. But they +emerged at last upon the lawn, where Faith was taken possession of and +marched off by the old Judge, nothing loth. + +The doctor casting about for another fish to throw his line at, spied +Reuben Taylor, standing alone, and eying as Mr. Linden and Faith had +done the gay scene about the house, now gay with the many-coloured +lamps. + +"Well, my man," said the doctor easily accosting him as he stood there, +"you did very well this afternoon. How long have you been at the +school?" + +Reuben made answer with his usual respectful courtesy. + +"Are you a friend of Miss Derrick's?" + +"I think Miss Derrick is my friend, sir," said Reuben with a little +flush. + +"Is she?" said the doctor. "Well don't you think that comes to the same +thing?" + +"No sir." + +"No? What's the difference? I'm not examining you now--I am asking for +information." + +"I think you must know, sir," said Reuben, respectfully but firmly, +after a glance at his questioner. + +"Do you?" said the doctor laughing slightly. "Well, if you are not her +friend, it don't signify. I was going to remark to you, if you _were_, +that ladies don't generally care to have their private affairs talked +about, and however much you may know, it is not always worth while to +tell it." + +"I neither know nor have said anything, Dr. Harrison," said Reuben, +drawing himself up a little, and looking full in the doctor's face. + +"You're Reuben Taylor, aren't you?" + +"Yes sir--I'm not anybody else though." + +"No," said the doctor carelessly. "Well, it isn't necessary you should +be, for present purposes. I heard you quoted as authority just now, on +something which touched that lady's affairs, whose friend you say you +are not--and I think, _your_ friend though she may be, she was not +particularly gratified with your interference." + +"Miss Faith knew it was a wrong quotation," said Reuben quietly. + +"You are sure of that?" + +"Quite sure, sir--if it was anything about her which ought not to have +said." + +"Don't know that it was," said the doctor; "it's well enough sometimes +to set people right when they are wrong--what I say is, that ladies +don't always thank one for it." + +Reuben flushed a little. + +"You don't know me, Dr. Harrison," he said--"I can't expect you to take +my word; but I have nothing to add to it." + +"And I have nothing to add to mine," said the doctor lightly. "I heard +you quoted--that's all; I supposed you would know what for." + +"Who did you hear, sir?" + +"Don't know, really," said the doctor--"only he was a rude fellow--if +you can tell one by such a description among your mates, it was he." + +And the doctor strolled away. + +Reuben on his part seemed to recognize the description, for taking a +sort of intuitive bee-line through people and trees, he suddenly +brought up with the question, + +"Phil Davids, what have you been saying about me?" + +"I s'pose you think folks have nothing to do but talk about you now. +You're a long way out!"--was the careless answer. + +"What did you say I said?" said Reuben. + +"I never heard you say anything, as I know, that was worth tellin' +over. When I do, I'll let somebody know it, I tell _you_." + +"I suppose that means that you won't answer my question," said Reuben. +"What I want to know is, not what I said, but what you say I said." + +"About what?" + +"About Miss Faith Derrick." + +"I don't say you said nothing about her--I never heard you call her +name, as I know." + +"Like enough," said Reuben, with a sort of resolute patience; "but what +did you say I said that had to do with her in any way?" + +"Who do you think you air?" said Phil. + +"I tell you what, Phil Davids," said Sam Stoutenburgh, who had heard +the last question or two, "if you don't keep your tongue off Miss +Derrick, I'll pitch you up into a pine tree so far that you'll see +stars before you come down--or I'm not Stoutenburgh nor stout, +neither!" and Sam--who was a little of a young giant--backed Phil up +against the tree that was nearest in a sort of preparatory way that was +rather breathless. Phil however was as tough as shoe leather. + +"Suppos'n you keep eyes off her, then," said he struggling. "It's a +poor rule that don't work both ways." + +"What have you been about?" said Sam,--"come, own up for once--just to +try how it feels." + +"What have _you?_" said Phil. "I aint up to half as many shines as you, +Sam Stoutenburgh." + +"I should think not!" said Sam disdainfully. + +"O let him alone, Sam!" said Reuben--"what's the use?" + +"Little enough use--" said Sam, "or matter either,--everybody knows +Phil Davids. Pity he wouldn't make his own acquaintance!" And releasing +his prisoner Sam turned disdainfully and Reuben sorrowfully towards the +house. But Reuben did not go very near. A wistful look or two towards +the lighted front and the clustering guests, and he paused, leaving Sam +to go on alone. + +Sam's bashfulness was happily not of the uncompromising kind, therefore +he not only found Faith, but she found him--ready to claim her +promise--the very moment she was ready to go. + +"But I don't know whether the wagon is here, Sam," said Faith. Other +wagons were come, and driving off, and a little procession of colours +was setting forth on foot, up and down the street from Judge +Harrison's. The hall was full of people, getting hoods on and taking +leave. + +"Well, Miss Faith," said Sam, "we can walk to where it ought to be, and +if it isn't there maybe you'll let me go further." + +"But I can't go without seeing my mother, Sam, and I don't know where +she is." + +"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mr. Linden's voice, while the speaker laid +both hands on the boy's shoulders, "what are you about?" + +"Miss Faith said I might go as far as the wagon with her, sir," said +Sam looking down. + +"The wagon is not here," said Mr. Linden,--"Mr. Skip is probably +asleep." + +"Then I may see you home, Miss Faith?" was the joyous comment. + +"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mr. Linden again, preventing Faith's reply, +and giving Sam a gentle shake. "Isn't one favour a day enough for you?" +he added presently. + +"No sir!" said Sam boldly. + +"I suppose I must give way before a blue ribband," said Mr. Linden +smiling, yet as if he was much inclined to lift Sam out of the way. +"Miss Faith, the matter is in your hands." + +But Faith did not smile, and looked, or was it his fancy?--ever so +little careworn. + +"What matter, Mr. Linden?" she said simply. + +"Whether you will take charge of this boy as far as his father's gate. +I will try and take care of you, after that." + +"Will that do, Sam?" said Faith pleasantly, as she threw her scarf over +her head. + +"I'm glad to go any distance with you, Miss Faith," said Sam, but half +content--or a quarter! for that was the distance assigned him. + +"Well behave yourself then," said Mr. Linden, removing his hands. A +parting injunction Sam's dignity would have dispensed with. + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + +The evening was very still. A little too cool for insect voices, a +little too late in the season for night birds, the soft dropping of the +yellow leaves scarce stirred those already fallen. Few sounds came from +the houses; for all Pattaquasset had been out, and that portion which +had got home was tired and thinking of bed, while the few stragglers +yet abroad were far from the late scene of action, on their lonely +homeward roads. Squire Deacon, with Joe for a thorn in his side, was +opening his own door for Miss Cecilia, and Miss Bethia Bezac, at 'the +other side of creation,' mused over the possibility of again (without +eyes) embroidering waistcoats. Thus when the clock struck eight, the +earth seemed asleep and the stars at watch over it. + +At about that point of time, Sam Stoutenburgh and his fair companion +were near the parting gate; and Sam, not supposing himself within range +of other eyes, had bent down over Faith's glove in a very demonstrative +manner; and she would certainly have received an unwonted proof of his +devotion, if Mr. Linden--who had in truth been all the time not very +far off--had not just then been very near. + +"Take care, Sam--" he said,--"you are exceeding directions." A remark +which sent Sam through the gate with more haste than coolness, while +Mr. Linden stepped forward into his place. + +"Your mother rode home with Mrs. Somers, Miss Faith, and this little +shawl was requested to walk home with you," he said, wrapping it round +her; for which he received a quiet little "Thank you." He put her hand +on his arm, and once past the gate walked very slowly; moderating his +steps to hers, and taking the most leisurely pace; perhaps to give her +the full sedative effect of the night. Those faint breaths of air, that +soft hush of everything, that clear starry sky,--so high, so +still,--there was balm in them all. + +And for a while Mr. Linden let them do their work alone,--then he spoke. + +"One of my scholars is very tired to night. I'm afraid I have done +wrong in letting her walk home." + +"O no!" said Faith with a little start,--"I like to walk very much, Mr. +Linden; it's very pleasant.--And I am not tired," she added in a soft +quiet voice. + +"What is the difference between being tired, and being in want of rest?" + +She looked at him again, and her words did not come at once. + +"I suppose the difference is, that in one case you can get what you +want--and in the other, you have to wait for it." + +"Till when?" + +She laughed, somewhat uneasily, and asked him what he meant. + +"I hardly know how to make my question plainer, Miss Faith. I suppose I +am of an impatient disposition, but the idea of waiting an indefinite +time for rest is not pleasant to me." + +"But can you always get it as soon as you would like to have +it?"--Faith asked with a kind of timid doubt, as not knowing but his +power might extend so far. + +"Why not?--seeing rest is like some sweet wind, which cannot blow its +soft gale till there is a clear space for it, why should it linger when +the space is clear?--why not rest when we are weary?" + +"But can you always get the clear space for it?" Faith asked, looking +at him wonderingly. + +He smiled. + +"I am talking of what may be done, Miss Faith--not of what I do. But I +wish you would let me try my powers for you to-night. How comes there +to be a demand?--how comes there _not_ to be a supply?" + +"Of rest?" said Faith. "Oh there is! At least," she added +reluctantly,--"there will be. There is now, Mr. Linden." + +"Equal to the demand?" + +"Why do you ask me?" she said, a little troubled. + +"I believe I have a bad habit of asking questions," said Mr. +Linden--and his tone was apologetic in its very gentleness, "It is +partly my fault and partly Pet's." + +"Partly whose? Mr. Linden," said Faith. "_I_ don't think it's a bad +habit. _Whose_ fault, did you say?" + +"Pet's--my sister's--into whose company I hope to send you soon again." + +"Oh--I mustn't thank you!"--Faith said, beginning and stopping herself +somewhat comically. + +"I don't know whether you will thank me for taking you past your own +gate, which I was about to do," said Mr. Linden. "And I don't know +whether the social and astronomical days ought to agree--but Hesperus +set some time ago." + +"I don't understand, Mr. Linden--" said Faith pausing. + +"You must not expect to understand all astronomical things till you +have studied astronomy," he said with a smile. "The practical +application of my words is to sleep-- + + 'That knits up the ravelled sleeve of care; + Worn labour's bath; balm of hurt minds.'"-- + + +With which soporific potion he bade her goodnight; and Faith went to +her room marvelling _what_ could have put into Mr. Linden's head just +those particular words; and whether he had a quality of vision that +could see through flesh and blood; and a little in doubt whether or not +in the circumstances to find the words or the surmise 'balmy.' But if +she wanted rest that night, or seemed to have wanted it, she had found +it the next day, for she was all like herself. To speak with her own +scrupulosity, there was perhaps just a shade of quieter gravity on her +face and touching her smile, than there had been the day before. And +that shade she kept. + +It is a notable fact, that when Pleasure with her wand has roused into +lively motion the waters of some mortal lake, she straightway departs; +taking with her the sparkles, the dancing foam, and leaving the +disturbed waves to deposit at their leisure the sediment which she has +stirred up. Withered leaves flung upon the bank, a spot here and there +of discoloured froth,--these are what remain. Thus in the quiet nooks +and corners of Pattaquasset were trophies not too bright of the +celebration. Thus did Pattaquasset people behold some of the hidden +evil in their neighbours, and likewise in themselves. The boys indeed +maintained their serenity and kept Pleasure with them but in other +quarters there were some heartburnings--most of all at Squire Deacon's. +Relieved at first by the idea of a new rival--then by some intuitive +belief thrown off that ground of comfort; the Squire was much in the +condition of the man who wanted to commit an assault upon every small +boy he met--for boys were to him representatives. But deprived by law +of this manly way of expressing his feelings, the Squire sought some +other. For the boys, they laughed at him--and at pretty much everything +else; and having as I said managed to keep Pleasure with them, the +faces that greeted Mr. Linden on Friday morning were unusually bright. + +Yet there were one or two exceptions. Sam Stoutenburgh was a little +shamefaced in broad daylight--a little afraid of being laughed at; and +Reuben Taylor, the head of the blue ribbands, was under a very unwonted +cloud. It even seemed as if the day (no thanks to Pleasure) had done +some work for Mr. Linden: perhaps he was considering how long he should +be within reach of such ceremonies; or (perhaps) how soon he could be +willing to put himself out of reach. And when he came home in the +afternoon, it was with the slow, meditative step which reminded Faith +of his first week in Pattaquasset. + +"_You_ are tired now, Mr. Linden," she said with a smile, but the +burden of her remark in her eyes, as she met him in the porch. + +"Boys are an extraordinary commodity to deal with!" he said looking at +her, but answering the smile too. "I think you are bewitching all mine +by degrees. Why cannot you confine your conjurations to the black cats +of the neighbourhood?--like some of the real, respectable Puritan +witches?" + +Faith blushed very much at the beginning of this speech, and laughed at +the last. + +"What have I done, Mr. Linden? there are no black cats in the +neighbourhood." + +"Is that it?" said Mr. Linden--"I shall have to import a few. You give +me a great deal of trouble, Miss Faith." + +"I, Mr. Linden? I am very sorry! What have I done?" + +"I don't know!--or at least but partially. There is Sam Stoutenburgh, +making as much ado over his lessons as if his wits had forsaken +him--which perhaps they have. There is Reuben Taylor--I don't know what +is the matter with Reuben," he said, his tone changing, "but his last +words to me were a very earnest entreaty that I would persuade you to +see him for five minutes; and when I wanted to know why he did not +prefer his own request, all I could get was that he was not sure you +would let him. Which gave me very little clue to the sorrowful face he +has worn all day." + +Once more, and this time with the keen tinge of pain, the blood rushed +in a flood to Faith's cheek and brow; and for a second she put her +hands to her face as if she would hide it. But she put them down and +looked up frankly to Mr. Linden. + +"I am sure Reuben Taylor has done no wrong!" she said. "You may tell +him so, Mr. Linden." + +"Wrong!" he said--"to you?"--and the tone was one Faith did not know. +Then with a manner that was like enough to the flinging of the little +stone into Kildeer river, he added, "Yes, I will tell him. Miss Faith, +I shall be down again directly, and then will you let me see that +book?" And he passed on upstairs. + +The book was on the table in the parlour when he came down, but Faith +met him standing. With a little timid anxiousness, she said, + +"I have done wrong now. Mr. Linden, I said I was sure Reuben had _not_ +done any, and you will not speak to him as if he had? Please don't +speak to him at all--I will see him myself." + +The answering smile broke through some little cloud of feeling, in +spite of him. + +"You need not fear," he said,--"I know Reuben Taylor. But you have got +something else to think of just now." Then placing a chair for her at +the table, Mr. Linden took up the little book and began his work of +examination. And perhaps it is not too much to say that even Dr. +Harrison might have learned somewhat from the way it was carried on. A +skilful and kind way of finding out what she did not know, from what +she did; initiation and examining so carried on together that Faith +found herself knowing where she thought she was ignorant,--more still, +perhaps, a kind of separate decision what she _ought_ to learn, and +how; which saved her the trouble of acknowledging and confessing; and +all as gently done as if he had been dealing with some delicate winged +creature, whose downy plumage would come off with a touch,--such was +the threatened examination. She might flutter a little under his hand, +but the soft wings were unhurt. + +"Tell me first, Miss Faith," he said turning over the leaves, "what you +have been doing here by yourself." + +"I have been all through it," she said; 'fluttering' sure enough, yet +as much with pleasure as with timidity; not at all with fear. + +"Will you work these out for me--" and he gave her half a dozen +different tests on a bit of paper. + +She coloured, and he could see her hand tremble; but she was not long +doing them, and she did them well, and gave them back without a word +and without raising her eyes. + +"Well," said Mr. Linden, smiling a little as he looked at the paper, +"if it takes half an hour to hear Charles twelfth his lesson, and +Johnny gives you but one quarter the trouble, and Rob Waters about +twice as much as Johnny, how much time will you spend upon them all?" + +"It will be about an hour--wanting an eighth," she said without raising +her eyes, but with a bit of a smile too. + +"I hear you and Johnny have arranged preliminaries, Miss Faith." + +"Yes," said Faith looking up brightly, "he came to shew me his ribband +and to tell me last night. But I was almost sorry, Mr. Linden,--that +you should send _him_ away from you." + +"For Johnny's sake, or my own?" + +"For his sake--certainly." + +"You need not speak so assuredly--there were two parties to the +question--besides you. But I have him still, you know, in a way. What +has been in hand since this little book was finished?" + +"Nothing--except the Philosophe,--and--" + +"Well?--isn't that blank to be filled up?" + +"And Shakspeare," said Faith casting down her eyes. + +"I cannot let you confine yourself to the study of human nature," said +Mr. Linden,--"that will never do. Charles twelfth and Shakspeare want +ground to stand upon. Did you ever read anything of Physical Geography?" + +She shook her head. "I don't know what that is, Mr. Linden." + +"Then I will have the pleasure of introducing you. Ordinary geography +is but a shell without it. And if we accidentally go deeper down than +the stratum of geography, I will try and bring you back safe. But Miss +Faith, you have not done with this book yet--the subject-matter of it. +I want you to carry that further." + +"Well," she said smiling,--"I like it. I am ready. What comes next, Mr. +Linden?" + +"Did you pay any attention to the algebra part of the examination +yesterday?" + +"Yes, I believe so. I paid attention to it all--I didn't understand +what some of it was about, but I believe I know what you mean." + +"How should you like to work with letters and signs instead of figures? +By the way, Miss Faith, your sevens are too much like your nines, and +if you drew a check for $500 with that five, you might find yourself +paying out $800." + +She coloured again, but bowed her head in assent, quite ignoring in her +interest in the subject the extravagance of the supposition by which he +illustrated it. + +"You shall not say that again, Mr. Linden." + +"Don't pledge yourself for me," he said smiling,--"I am a lawless kind +of person, as perhaps you have found out. But if I were to spend one +minute well on the first day of the year, and each succeeding day add +to my well-spent minutes so many more as the year was days old--how +much of December would be well spent?" + +But Faith could not tell. + +"You see what is before you--" Mr. Linden said; "you must work that +out, Miss Faith, in more ways than one. Well tell me this--Which is +nearest to us now,--my sister Pet or the Khan of Tartary,--supposing +her in Rome and him in his own dominions?" + +Faith coloured again, a good deal, and with some sorrow. + +"I am glad you asked me," she said;--"I want you should know it,--but I +don't know anything about that, Mr. Linden. I know a _little_, of +course," she said correcting herself, "but I couldn't answer you." + +"But why can't you understand," he said looking at her, "that I am just +some old, torn, dog-eared book of questions that you are looking into +for the first time? I don't like to be made to feel like a bran new +schoolbook." + +Faith looked at him, and probably the words "old, torn, and dog-eared" +made a peculiar contrast, for her eye flashed and in spite of +everything she laughed, her musical little laugh. + +"That sounds reasonable," said Mr. Linden. "I like to be laughed at. +But Miss Faith--just suppose for a moment that there were tears in your +eyes,--what could keep them from falling?" + +Faith's eyes opened and she took a little time to consider this +proposition. + +"If I were very determined, I think I could do it," she said. + +"Suppose they got so far as the tip ends of your eye lashes?" he said, +with a little play of the lips. + +"They must come down, I am afraid," said Faith looking and wondering. + +"But why?" + +"Because my determination couldn't reach them there, I suppose," she +said in unmitigated wonder. "There would be nothing to keep them up." + +"Unphilosophic!" he said gravely,--"I shall have to teach you both why +your tears fall, and why they don't." + +She smiled, as very willing to be taught, but with a face that looked +as if it had had few to experiment upon either way. + +"I will try and not tire you out," Mr. Linden said, "but different +things go on pleasantly together. Some I should like to have you study +for me when I am away, some directly with me. And--" + +"And what, sir?" she said with the gentle intonation of one to whose +ear every word is pleasant. + +"How much time have you in the course of the day that can and ought to +be spent upon all these matters--without disturbing Shakspeare and his +companions?" + +"I will _make_ time, Mr. Linden, if I don't find it. I have a good +deal. You won't tire me." + +"You must not make time out of strength. Will you write me a French +exercise every day, among other things? Yes Cindy," he said--"I +understand,"--apparently quite aware that Faith did not. + +"I will try," said Faith, with a colour again that was not of _French_ +growth. + +"Well baint you comin'?" said Cindy, who stood still as if she liked +the prospect before her. + +"Yes, but I can find my own way," said Mr. Linden; at which gentle hint +Cindy vanished. And Faith sprang up. + +"Teaching all day," she said, "and no tea either!"--And she was about +to run off, then paused to say, + +"That is all, Mr. Linden?--do you want to say anything more?" + +"It was not tea, Miss Faith,--Reuben is at the door. Will you see him? +Shall I bring him here or will you go there?" + +"I will go there," said Faith hurriedly. But Mr. Linden followed her. + +"Reuben," he said, "Miss Faith will hear you--and I am ready to answer +for your word with my own;"--then he went back into the sitting room +and closed the door. + +But those words seemed to touch at least one sore spot in the boy's +heart--he had to struggle with himself a moment before he could speak. +Then it was low and humbly. + +"Miss Faith--I don't know just what Phil has said about me,--I can't +find out. But whatever it is there isn't one word of it true. I never +said one word about you, Miss Faith, that I wouldn't say to you, just +the same!" And Reuben looked as if he would have confronted the whole +world on that point. + +"I am quite sure of it, Reuben," Faith said very gently. "I didn't need +you to come and tell me so." + +He looked up at her with both gladness and thanks in his eyes. + +"I shouldn't have troubled you with my trouble at all, Miss Faith--only +he said you were displeased with me--and I was afraid it might be true." + +"Who said I was displeased with you?" + +An involuntary glance of Reuben's eye towards the closed door, seemed +to say he did not want his words to go far. + +"Dr. Harrison, Miss Faith. At least I thought he said so." + +"Did he speak to you?" + +"Yes ma'am--and just pushed my word out of the way when I gave +it,--said it might be well enough to tell people but he didn't think +you liked it. And so I got vexed. I'm so used to Mr. Linden," Reuben +said--as if in excuse. + +"Are you satisfied now, Reuben?" said Faith, giving him a good look of +her eyes. + +A little qualified his look was--perhaps because he had been too much +troubled to have the traces go off at once; but there was no want of +satisfaction in his, + +"O yes, Miss Faith--I can't tell you how thankful I am to you! +Goodnight, ma'am." + +Faith went back to the parlour. And then Mr. Linden, taking from his +pocket a piece of broad dark blue ribband, and laying it lightly round +Faith's shoulders, told her gravely, "that she was entitled to wear +that for the rest of the evening." + +Faith matched the blue with red, and stood eying the ribband which she +had caught as it was falling from her shoulders, seeming for a minute +as if she had as much as she could bear. Rallying, she looked up at Mr. +Linden to get a little more light as to what he expected of her, or +what he meant. But unless she could read a decided opinion that the two +'favours' looked better together than separate, his face gave her no +information. Then smiling he said, + +"I don't mean that you _must_ wear it--merely that you have the right." + +Faith gave another glance at his face, and then without more ado tied +the blue ribband round her waist, where as she still wore the white +dress of yesterday, it shewed to very good advantage. She said nothing +more; only as she was quitting the room now in earnest to get tea, gave +him an odd, pleasant, half grateful, half grave little smile. Too many +things however had been at work to admit of her coming down into +quietness immediately. The red left her no more than the blue for the +rest of that evening. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + + +Saturday was but a half holiday to Mrs. Derrick's little family--unless +indeed they called their work play, which some of them did. It was +spent thus. + +By Mrs. Derrick, in the kitchen, in the bed-rooms, all over the house +generally--with intervals at the oven door. + +By Mr. Linden in the sitting-room, where Faith came from time to time +as she got a chance, to begin some things with him and learn how to +begin others by herself. The morning glided by very fast on such smooth +wheels of action, and dinner came with the first Natural Philosophy +lesson yet unfinished. It was finished afterwards however, and then Mr. +Linden prepared himself to go forth on some expedition, of which he +only said that it was a long one. + +"I am going to petition to have tea half an hour later than usual +to-night, Miss Faith," he said. + +"_Just_ half an hour later, Mr. Linden?" she said smiling. "You shall +have it when you like." + +"I hope to be home by that time--if not don't wait for me. You will +find all the materials for your French exercise on my table." + +Which intimation quickened Faith's steps about the little she had +beforehand to do, and also quickened a trifle the beating of her heart. +It was not quiet--timidity and pleasure were throbbing together, and +throbbing fast, when she turned her back upon the rest of the house and +went to Mr. Linden's room. She would have a good uninterrupted time +this afternoon, at any rate. And the materials were there, as he had +said,--all the materials; from books, open and shut, to the delicate +white paper, and a pen which might be the very one Johnny Fax thought +could write of itself. Faith stood and looked at them, and then sat +down to work, if ever such a determination was taken by human mind. + +She had been a good while absorbed in her business when a knock came to +the front door, which Faith did not hear. Cindy however had ears to +spare, and presently informed Mrs. Derrick that a gentleman wished to +see her. And in the sitting-room Mrs. Derrick found Dr. Harrison. + +"You haven't _forgotten to remember_ me, I hope, Mrs. Derrick," he said +as he took her hand. He looked very handsome, and very pleasant, as he +stood there before her, and his winning ease of manner was enough to +propitiate people of harder temper than the one he was just now dealing +with. + +"No indeed!" said Mrs. Derrick; "I remember a great many things about +you,"--(as in truth she did.) "But I daresay you've changed a good deal +since then. You've been gone a great while, Dr. Harrison." + +"Do you _hope_ I have changed?--or are you afraid I have?" + +"Why I don't think I said I did either," said Mrs. Derrick smiling, for +she felt as if Dr. Harrison was an old acquaintance. "And I suppose it +makes more difference to you than to me, anyway." Which words were not +blunt in their intention, but according to the good lady's habit were a +somewhat unconscious rendering of her thoughts. "How's Miss Sophy, +after her holiday? I always think play's the hardest work that's done." + +"I am very sorry you found it so!" said the doctor. + +"You needn't be--" said Mrs. Derrick, rocking complacently and making +her knitting needles play in a style that certainly might be called +work,--"I've got over it now. To be sure I was tired to death, but I +like to be, once in a while." + +The doctor laughed, as if, in a way, he had found his match. + +"And how is Miss Derrick?" he asked. "If she was tired too, it was my +fault." + +"I guess that 'll never be one of your faults, Dr. Harrison," said Mrs. +Derrick,--"it would take any amount of folks to tire _her_ out. She's +just like a bird always. O she's well, of course, or I shouldn't be +sitting here." + +"And so like a bird that she lives in a region above mortal view, and +only descends now and then?" + +"Yes, she does stay upstairs a good deal," said Mrs. Derrick, knitting +away. "Whenever she's got nothing to do down here. She's been down all +the morning." + +"I can't shoot flying at this kind of game," said the doctor;--"I'll +endeavour to come when the bird is perched, next time. But in the +meanwhile, Miss Derrick seemed pleased the other night with these +Chinese illuminations--and Sophy took it into her head to make me the +bearer of one, that has never yet illuminated anything, hoping that it +will do that office for her heart with Miss Derrick. The heart will +bear inspection, I believe, with or without the help of the lantern." + +And the doctor laid a little parcel on the table. Mrs. Derrick looked +at the parcel, and at the doctor, and knit a round or two. + +"I'm sure she'll be very much obliged to Miss Harrison," she said. "But +I know I sha'n't remember all the message. I suppose _that_ won't +matter." + +"Not the least," said the doctor. "The lantern is expected to throw +light upon some things. May I venture to give Mrs. Derrick another word +to remember, which must depend upon her kindness alone for its +presentation and delivery?" + +Mrs. Derrick stopped knitting and looked all attention. + +"It isn't much to remember," said the doctor laughing gently. "Sophy +wishes very much to have Miss Derrick go with her to-morrow afternoon. +She is going to drive to Deep River, and wished me to do my best to +procure Miss Derrick's goodwill, and yours, for this pleasure of her +company. Shall I hope that her wish is granted?" + +Now Mrs. Derrick, though not quick like some other people, had yet her +own womanly instincts; and that more than one of them was at work now, +was plain enough. But either they confused or thwarted each other, for +laying down her work she said, + +"I know she won't go--but I'll let her come and give her own answer;" +and left the room. For another of her woman's wits made her never send +Cindy to call Faith from her studies. Therefore she went up, and softly +opening the door of the study room, walked in and shut it after her. + +"Pretty child," she said, stroking Faith's hair, "are you very busy?" + +"Very, mother!"--said Faith looking up with a burning cheek and happy +face, and pen pausing in her hand. "What then?"-- + +"Wasn't it the queerest thing what I said that day at Neanticut!" said +Mrs. Derrick, quite forgetting Dr. Harrison in the picture before her. + +"What, dear mother?" + +"Why when I asked why you didn't get Mr. Linden to help you. How you do +write, child!"--which remark was meant admiringly. + +"Mother!"--said Faith. "But it can be done"--she added with quiet +resolution. + +"I'm sure it never could by me, in that style," said Mrs. Derrick,--"my +fingers always think they are ironing or making piecrust. But child, +here's Dr. Harrison--come for nobody knows what, except that Sophy took +it into her head to send her heart by him--as near as I can make out. +And he wants you to go to Deep River to-morrow. I said you +wouldn't--and then I thought maybe you'd better speak yourself. But if +you don't like to, you sha'n't. I can deal with him." + +"I don't want to see Dr. Harrison, mother!--To-morrow?" said Faith. +"Yes--I will see him." + +She rose up, laid her pen delicately out of her fingers, went down +stairs and into the sitting-room, where she confronted the doctor. + +Faith was dressed as she had been at the party, with the single +exception of the blue ribband instead of the red oak leaves; and the +excitement of what she had been about was stirring both cheek and eye. +Perhaps some other stir was there too, for the flush was a little +deeper than it had been upstairs, but she met the doctor very quietly. +He thought to himself the lanterns had lent nothing with their +illumination the other night. + +"No, sir," she said as he offered her a chair,--"I have something to +do;--but mother said--" + +"Will the bird perch for no longer than this?" said the doctor, turning +with humourous appeal to Mrs. Derrick who had followed her. + +"My birds do pretty much as they like, Dr. Harrison," said Mrs. Derrick +"They always did, even when I had 'em in cages." + +"Then this bird is free now?" + +"I guess you'd better talk to her--" said Mrs. Derrick, taking her seat +and her knitting again. + +"Miss Derrick!" said the doctor obeying this direction with an +obeisance,--"you are free to command, and I can but obey. Will you go +with Sophy to-morrow to Deep River? I am not altogether uninterested, +as I hope to have the honour of driving you; but she sends her most, +earnest wish." + +"To-morrow is Sunday, Dr. Harrison." + +"Well--isn't Sunday a good day?" + +"It isn't mine," said Faith gently. + +"Not yours?" said the doctor. "You have promised it away, and we are so +unfortunate?" + +Her colour rose a little, but it was with an eye as steady as it was +soft that she answered him. + +"The day belongs to God, Dr. Harrison--and I have promised it, and +myself, away to him." + +The doctor looked astonished for a minute. And he gazed at her. + +"But, my dear Miss Derrick, do you think there is anything contrary to +the offices of religion in taking a pleasant drive, in a pleasant +country, in pleasant weather? that is all." + +Faith smiled a little, gravely; it was very sweet and very grave. + +"There are all the other days for that," she said. "God has given us +his work to be done on his day, Dr. Harrison; and there is so much of +it to do that I never find the day long enough." + +"You are right!" he said--"You are quite right. You are a great deal +better than I am. I am sorry I asked you,--and yet I am glad.--Then +Miss Derrick, will you forgive me? and will you some other day shew +that you forgive me and be so good as to go with us?" + +But Faith's interest in the subject was gone. + +"I am very busy, sir," she said. "I have work to do that I do not wish +to put off." + +"Cannot you go with us _at all?_ We will wait and make it any day?" + +"Do not wait," said Faith. "I _could_ go, but I could not go with +pleasure, Dr. Harrison. I have not the time to spare, for that, nor for +more now. Please excuse me." + +And she went. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said the doctor musingly, "this is a winged creature, I +believe--but it is not a bird!" + +At which Mrs. Derrick looked at him with a mingled satisfaction that he +had got his answer, and curiosity to know what he thought of it. For +the further she felt herself from her child's high stand, the more +presuming did she think it in any one to try to bring _her_ down from +it. + +"If I thought, as I came here, that I walked on a higher level than the +generality of mankind, as perhaps in the vanity of my heart I did,--I +feel well put down on the ground now," pursued the doctor. "But Mrs +Derrick, when may I hope to see this winged thing of yours again?" + +It must be confessed that Mrs. Derrick did not admire this speech,--'a +winged thing,' as she justly thought, was a somewhat indefinite term, +and might mean a flying grasshopper as well as a canary bird. Therefore +it was with some quickness that she replied, + +"What sort of a winged thing are you talking of, doctor?" + +"Nothing worse than a heavenly one, madam. But angel or cherub are such +worn-out terms that I avoided them." + +He was standing yet where Faith left him, looking down gravely, +speaking half lightly, to her mother. + +"I don't know who'll see her when she's an angel," said Mrs. Derrick, +with a little flush coming over her eyes. "But she wouldn't thank you +for calling her one now," she added presently, with her usual placid +manner. "Won't you sit down again, doctor?" + +"May I ask," said he eying her, somewhat intent upon the answer,--"why +she wouldn't thank me for calling her one now?--by which I understand +that it would incur her displeasure." + +"Why--why should she?" said Mrs. Derrick, who having dropped a stitch +was picking it up with intentness equal to the doctor's. + +"True!" said the doctor in his usual manner. "Angels don't thank +mortals for looking at them. But Mrs. Derrick, when may such a poor +mortal as I, stand a chance of seeing this particular one again?" + +Mrs. Derrick laid down her work. + +"Well you _have_ changed!" she said, "there's no doubt of that! I don't +recollect that you used to care so much about seeing her when you were +here before. If I don't forget, you set your dog on her cat. And as to +when you'll see her again, I'm sure I can't tell, doctor. She's a busy +child, and folks out of the house have to do without seeing her till +she finds time to see them." Whereat Mrs Derrick smiled upon Dr. +Harrison with the happy consciousness that she was one of the folks in +the house. + +The doctor stood smiling at her, with a half humourous, quite pleasant +expression of face. + +"Set my dog on her cat!" he exclaimed. "_That_ is why she would be +angry with me for calling her a cherub!-- + + 'Tantae ne animis celestibus irae!'" + + +The doctor sat down. + +"What shall I do!" he said. "Advise me, Mrs. Derrick." + +"I know what I should have done if I'd got hold of you," said Mrs. +Derrick. "I thought I never would speak to you again--but you see I've +got over it." + +"I'm not sure of it," said the doctor meditatively. "'Folks out of the +house'--well! It strikes me I've been 'in' to little purpose this +afternoon."--He rose again. "Where is Mr. Linden? is he 'out', or 'in', +this fine day?" + +"He's out this afternoon," said Mrs. Derrick. "I was thinking to ask +you if you wanted to see him, and then I knew it was no use." + +"Yes, I should like to see him," said the doctor; "but as he is a +mortal like myself, I suppose I can find him another time by the use of +proper precautions." + +And Dr. Harrison took his departure. + +Mrs. Derrick on her part went upstairs again, and opening the door +merely peeped in this time. + +"What is it, mother?" + +"Are you busy yet, child?" + +"Not quite through." + +"I thought," said Mrs. Derrick stepping softly into the room, "that +we'd go down to the shore this afternoon, and maybe dig some clams. I +don't know but it's too late for that--we might ride down and see. +You're tired, pretty child--and other people won't like that a bit more +than I do." + +"I'd like to go, mother--I'm almost done, and I'm not tired," Faith +said with happy eyes. "There is time, I guess, for Mr. Linden don't +want tea as early as usual. I'll come soon." + +Mrs. Derrick withdrew softly, and again Faith was entirely lost in her +business. But she had nearly done now; the work was presently finished, +the books put up in order, and the papers, with the exercise on top; +and Faith stood a moment looking down at it. Not satisfied, but too +humble to have any false shame, too resolute to doubt of being +satisfied and of satisfying somebody else, by and by. And the +intellectual part of her exercise she thought, and with modest reason, +would satisfy him now. Then she went down to her mother, quite ready +for the beach or for anything else. + +It was one of those very warm October days which unlearned people call +Indian summer,--the foreground landscape yellow with stubble fields and +sered forest, the distance blue with haze. So soft and still, that the +faint murmur of the wheels as they rolled along the sandy road sounded +as if at a distance, and the twittering birds alone set off the +silence. Now and then came a farm wagon loaded with glowing corn, then +the field where the bereaved pumpkins lay among the bundles of +cornstalks. Sportsmen passed with their guns, schoolboys with their +nut-bags, and many were the greetings Faith received; for since the day +at Neanticut every boy thought he had a right to take off his hat to +her. From the midst of his cornfield, Mr. Simlins gave them a wave of +his hand,--from the midst of its blue waters the Sound sent a fresh +welcome. + +"I declare, child," said Mrs. Derrick, as they neared the shore, "it's +real pleasant!" + +"The tide's out, mother," said Faith, who had the spirit of action upon +her to-day--"we can get some clams now, if we're quick." + +"I don't know but you're learning to be spry, among other things," said +her mother looking at her. "I thought you were as spry as you could be, +before. What haven't you done to-day, child!" + +Faith laughed a little, and then jumping out of the wagon and helping +her mother down, was certainly 'spry' in getting ready for the +clam-digging. Her white dress had been changed for a common one and +that was carefully pinned up, and a great kitchen apron was put on to +cover all but the edges of skirts as white as the white dress, and with +shoes and stockings off, basket and hoe in hand, she stood ready almost +before her mother had accomplished fastening up old Crab to her +satisfaction. Mrs. Derrick on her part prepared herself as carefully +for work (though not quite so evidently for play) and the two went down +to the flats. The tide was far out,--even the usual strips of water +were narrow and far apart. Wherever they could, the little shell-fish +scrambled about and fought their miniature battles in one-inch water; +but at the edge of the tall shore-grass there was no water at all, +unless in the mud, and the shell-fish waited, by hundreds, for the +tide. Here was the scene of action for the two ladies. Walking daintily +over the warm mud with their bare feet, which however white and +twinkling at first were soon obliged to yield to circumstances; +disturbing the little shell-fish--who in turn disturbed them, by very +titillating little attacks upon the aforesaid feet,--Mrs. Derrick and +Faith marched up to the edge of the grass and there sought for clam +holes. The war went on after this fashion. A clam hole being found, the +hoe was struck far down into the mud to _unearth_ the inhabitant; which +the clam resenting, spit up into the intruder's face. But the +intruder--proof against such small fire--repeated the strokes, and the +clam was soon brought to light and tumbled ignominiously into the +basket,--to be followed every second or two by another of his +companions; for the clam holes were many. The basket was soon full, but +not before the cool ripple of the tide had passed the muscle rocks and +was fast coming in-shore. + +"Well I do think play's hard work!" said Mrs. Derrick, bringing herself +once more to an erect position--"I told Dr. Harrison so this morning. +How you and Mr. Linden stand it, Faith, I don't know." + +"What, mother?" said Faith, making a descent upon another promising +clam shell. But Mrs. Derrick always preferred to go on with her remarks. + +"It's good he's doing it, for his own sake, I guess," she said,--"he's +done nothing but work ever since he came to Pattaquasset." + +"Doing what, mother?" said Faith. "What _are_ you talking of?" + +"Why I'm talking of you, child!" said her mother,--"you and Mr. Linden. +One of you played all the morning and the other's going to play all the +afternoon. But I think you've done enough, Faith--it won't do to get +sick so long as we've nobody but Dr. Harrison to depend on. I don't +believe _he_'s much of a doctor." + +"Played all the morning?" said Faith taking up her basket,--"it was +better than play to me. I wish I could do something for _him_, mother!" + +Very gravely, and even a little sorrowfully, the last words were said. + +"Why yes," said Mrs. Derrick stoutly. "Never tell me it's anything but +play to teach you, child--he didn't look as if it was, neither. I +thought he got his pay as he went along." + +Faith knew he had looked so; but that was not Faith--it was Mr. Linden, +in her account. + +"Dr. Harrison ought to be a good doctor, mother," she remarked, leaving +the subject. "He has had chance enough." + +"La, child," said Mrs. Derrick, untying her apron, "chance don't prove +anything. A man may have just as good a chance to kill as he has to +cure. By which I don't mean that _he_ has, for I don't know." + +"The tide is coming in, mother. We came just in the very point of the +time. How pretty it is!--" said Faith; standing in the blue mud, with +her bare feet, and with the basket of clams in her hand, but standing +still to look off at the flats and the dark water and the hazy opposite +shore, all with the sunny stillness and the soft enveloping haze of +October lying lovingly upon them. Faith thought of the 'glory' again, +and watched to see how water and shore and flats and sky were all +touched with it. One or two sails on the Sound could not get on; they +lay still in the haze like everything else; and the 'glory' was on them +too. She thought so. It seemed to touch everything. And another glory +touched everything,--the glory of truth Faith had only for a little +while come to know. She recognized it; there was 'light from heaven' in +more senses than one; the glow of joy and hope unknown a while before; +the softening veil of mind-peace over whatever might be harsh or sharp +in actual reality. She did not run out all the parallel, but she felt +it, and stood looking with full eyes. Not full of tears, but of +everything pleasant beside. + +Then came the drive home, with the air darkening every minute, but +notwithstanding this, Mrs. Derrick stopped by the way. + +"Faith," she said, "hold the reins, child--I won't be a second, but +I've got something to see to in here;" and Faith was once more left to +her meditations. + +Not for long; for as she sat gazing out over old Crab's ears, she was +'ware' of some one standing by the wagon: it was Squire Deacon. + +"I shall commence to think I'm a lucky man, after all!" said the +Squire. "I was coming down to see you, Miss Faith,--and couldn't just +resolve my mind to it, neither. I wanted to pay a parting visit." + +"Were you?--are you going away, Squire Deacon?" + +"Why yes," said the Squire, looking down at his gun--for he had been +shooting,--"I've had considerable thoughts of taking a turn down to +York. Cilly says she don't think it's worth my while--but I guess she +don't know much more 'n her own concerns. Pattaquasset's a good deal +come round this season," he added, without specifying which way. + +"Do you mean that you intend to forsake Pattaquasset entirely?" said +Faith, noticing the comfortable supply of ducks in the Squire's bag. + +"Well I can't just say--I'm not free to certify," said the Squire. "I +said I thought it was worth my while to go, and so I do. I should like +to know from your lips, Miss Faith, whether you'll make it worth my +while to come back." + +Faith was very glad it was so dark. + +"I don't see how I can touch the question either way, sir," she said +gently and with not a little difficulty.--"Wherever you are, I hope +you'll be very happy, and very good, Squire Deacon." + +"I should like something a little better grown than that, ma'am," said +the Squire, striking his gun on the ground. "I can't just tell whether +_that_'s wheat or oats. It's likely _my_ meaning's plain enough." + +Faith was dumb for a minute. + +"I believe I understood you, sir," she said in a low voice. "I meant to +answer you." + +"Well what's to hinder your doing it, then?" said Squire Deacon. + +"I thought I had done it," said Faith. "I have nothing to do with the +question of your coming or going anywhere, sir,--and can't +have,--except to wish you well, which I do heartily." + +"That's your ultimate, is it, Miss Faith?" + +"No, sir," said Faith, conquering the beating of her heart. "Squire +Deacon, I want to see you _in heaven_." + +And she stretched out to him her little hand frankly over the side of +the wagon. + +Squire Deacon took it for a moment--then dropped it as if it had burnt +his fingers. And then with a voice in which whether sorrow or anger +prevailed Faith could not tell, he said-- + +"Well--I don't blame _you_,--never did and never shall. Cunning's been +too much for me this time." And he took up his gun and strode off, just +as Mrs. Derrick opened the house door and came out to take her place in +the wagon again. + +"Dear mother!" said Faith,--"why didn't you come sooner!" + +"Why I couldn't, child!" said Mrs. Derrick. "That woman always will +tell one every pain and ache she's had since the year one. What's the +matter?--why didn't you tie Crab and come in, if you were lonesome." + +Faith was silent. + +"What's the matter?" repeated her mother,--"have you been getting sick +after all I said to you?" + +"Squire Deacon has been here talking to me," said Faith in a low tone. + +"Well then you had company, I'm sure. What did he talk about? Come, +Crab!--get on, sir!" + +"He says he is going away from Pattaquasset, and he lays it to me, +mother," she said after some hesitancy again. + +"What does he lay it to you, for?" said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't believe +he's going away, to begin with." + +"He wanted me to say something to bring him back again," said Faith +lower yet. + +"O is that all!" said Mrs. Derrick composedly. "I knew that gun was +loaded, long ago. Well what's the harm if he did?--it's not dangerous." + +"I'm sorry," said Faith. "But mother, do make Crab get on!--it's time." + +"It's not late," said Mrs. Derrick. "And don't you fret about Sam +Deacon, child,--he always was a little goose--till he got to be a big +one; but you needn't think he'll ever shoot himself for love of +you,--he loves himself better than that." + +And at this point, Crab--roused by the thought of his own supper--set +off at a good round trot which soon brought them home. There was nobody +there, however, not even Cindy; so the need of haste did not seem to +have been urgent. Faith soon had the kitchen fire in order, and her +clams in the pot, and was for the next half hour thoroughly busy with +them. Then she made herself ready for tea, and the mother and daughter +sat together by the lamp, the one with her knitting the other with her +book. But the extra half hour was already past. + +"Faith," said Mrs. Derrick at last, "why wouldn't Mr. Linden do the +other thing you asked him to?" + +Faith looked up suddenly from her book, as if not understanding the +question; then her head and her voice drooped together. + +"I haven't asked him yet, mother." + +"I didn't know but he'd some objection," said Mrs. Derrick. "Well I +wish he'd come--I want my supper. I'm as tired as tired can be, +paddling round there in the mud. How did you like your lantern, child?" +she said as the clock struck half past seven. + +Faith raised her head and listened first to the clock and for any sound +that might be stirring near the house; then answered, + +"I haven't looked at it, mother." + +"What do you think of having supper?" + +"Before Mr. Linden comes, mother?--well, if you like it, I'll get you +yours--the clams are ready." + +"I don't care," said her mother,--"I'm more sleepy than hungry. I'll +just lie down here on the sofa, Faith, and you can wake me up when you +hear him." And disregarding the cooked clams in the kitchen, Mrs. +Derrick went to sleep and dug them all over again. + +The clock ticked on,--softly, steadily, from the half hour to the hour, +and from the hour to the half. Out of doors there was nothing stirring, +unless the owl stirred between his unmusical notes, or Mr. Skip's dog +did something but howl. Hardly a wagon passed, hardly a breath moved +the leaves. Cindy, on her part, was lost in the fascination of some +neighbouring kitchen. + +And Faith at first had been lost in her study. But the sounding of +eight o'clock struck on more than the air, and she found, though she +tried, she could not shut herself up in her book any more. Mrs. Derrick +slept profoundly; her breathing only made the house seem more still. +Faith went to the window to look, and then for freer breath and vision +went to the door. It was not moonlight; only the light of the stars was +abroad, and that still further softened by the haze or a mistiness of +the air which made it thicker still. Faith could see little, and could +hear nothing, though eyes and ears tried well to penetrate the still +darkness of the road, up and down. It was too chill to stay at the +porch, now with this mist in the air; and reluctantly she came back to +the sitting-room, her mother sleeping on the sofa, her open study book +under the lamp, the Chinese lantern in its packing paper. Faith had no +wish to open it now. There was no reason to fear anything, that she +knew; neither was she afraid; but neither could she rest. Half past +eight struck. She went to the window again, and very gravely sat down +by it. + +She had sat there but few minutes when there came a rush of steps into +the porch, and Cindy burst into the little sitting-room, almost too out +of breath to speak. + +"Here's a proclamation!" she said--"Mr. Linden's been shot at dreadful, +and Jem Waters is down to fetch Dr. Harrison. I'm free to confess they +say he aint dead yet." + +With which pleasing announcement, Cindy rushed off again, out of the +room and out of the house, being seized with a sudden fear that Jem +Waters would forestall her in spreading the news. The noise had awaked +Mrs. Derrick, and she sat looking at Faith as if she was first in her +thoughts. Faith stood before her with a colourless face, but perfectly +quiet, though at first she looked at her mother without speaking. + +"Come here, pretty child," said her mother, "and sit down by me." + +"Mother," said Faith,--but she would not have known her own +voice,--"something has happened." + +But the way Mrs. Derrick's arms came round her, said that she too had +heard. + +"Where can he be, mother?" said Faith gently disengaging herself. + +"I don't know, child." + +Faith was already at the door. + +"Faith!" her mother said, following her with a quick step,--"stop, +child!" + +Faith put back a hand as if to stop _her_--she was listening. + +There was not a sound. Faith went down the steps and stood at the gate. +Not a sound still; and her mother said softly, "Faith, you must not go +out." + +She put one hand on her mother's arm, and clasping it stood without +stirring; her other hand on the gate. In mingled sorrow and fear her +mother stood, not knowing well what to do or what to say,--in that +emergency where woman can only endure--where she is powerless but to +suffer. Faith stood without moving head or hand. + +And so they remained, they knew not how long, until Cindy once more +presented herself and told her story more at length. + +"You see I was down to Mis' Somerses, and so was Dr. Harrison; and Jem +Waters come there for him. And Jem he makes, up to Mis' Somerses Jenny, +and to-night he wouldn't hardly speak to her--wouldn't no how tell what +he come for. So then Jenny got mad and she went and listened; and she +said Jem wanted to catch up Dr. Harrison and run off with him--and the +doctor he wanted his horse. I don' know how they settled it but I'm +free to confess I'm sleepy "--and Cindy once more disappeared, and the +stillness settled down over all. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + + +On that eventful evening, Mr. Simlins had a husking bee; and in his +barn were met a fair representation of the Pattaquasset men and +boys--especially boys. And with busy hands and tongues the work went +on, Mr. Simlins himself among the busiest. But in the midst of work and +merriment though the fair stillness of the night was unheeded, the +sudden interruption which came brought everyone to his feet; it was a +loud shriek from the house, a woman's shriek. + +"Hold on!" said Mr. Simlins--"you all go ahead and I'll go quiet the +distractions. I suppose Mrs. Hummins has seen another rat in the dairy. +No--thank'ee--I like to kill my own rats myself and then I know they +_air_ killed." + +So letting nobody follow him, Mr. Simlins left the barn and went over +to the house. In the kitchen he found the full array of female +servants, of his own house and the neighbours', one of whom hiding her +face was rocking back and forth with the most incoherent exclamations; +while all the rest, standing by in various attitudes, seemed to have +got an extra pair of eyes apiece for the express purpose of looking on. + +"Well!"--said Mr. Simlins--"where is it? I've got my stick ready. +Hain't bit anybody, has he?--Or has somebody got my silver spoons? +What's to pay?" + +Now silver spoons there were none in Mr. Simlins' economy, and this was +a proverbial expression well known in the household. + +"O Mr. Simlins! Mr. Simlins!" cried the hysterical one, with a shudder, +"there's a murdered man at the front door!--and I did shut it, but he +might come round this way!" + +"You be hanged! and shut up!"--was Mr. Simlins' remark in answer to +this statement; and flinging down his stick on the kitchen floor with a +rattle, he strode to the front door and opened it, having had the +precaution to take a candle with him. + +There was certainly a figure there, not standing, but sitting on the +bench in an attitude that spoke of faintness; and of all the men in +Pattaquasset, Mr. Simlins was perhaps most surprised to see that it was +Mr. Linden. A white handkerchief ineffectually bound round his arm, but +served to shew why he had tried to secure it there. + +Mr. Simlins surveyed it all with his candle in about three seconds, and +then said hoarsely, "What's this? Can you speak to me?" + +But the power for that was gone, though a little parting of the lips +spoke the intent. Mr. Simlins set down his candle and went back to the +kitchen. + +"Get some brandy, you fools!" said he. "Here's a friend o' mine got +faint for want of his supper--been too long out shootin'. Fetch a glass +of water here too! Jenny Lowndes, you go tell Jem Waters that 'ere +plaguey black heifer has got out of the yard. You send him to me, and +if you spile the frolic with your story I'll have nothing more to do +with you, I give you my word!" + +Mr. Simlins was obeyed. He himself went back with the water and the +brandy, which he tenderly applied to Mr. Linden's forehead and lips, +and seeing the handkerchief's ineffectual disposition had taken it off +and bound it on tight by the time Jem Waters, one of his farm hands, +had reached the porch. The two then taking the sufferer in their arms +carried him into the house and into Mr. Simlins' room, which was on the +first floor, where they laid him on the bed. Jem Waters was then +despatched for Dr. Harrison, with orders to hold his tongue and not say +what he was sent for. And Jem Waters, the swiftest runner in +Pattaquasset, set off and ran every step of the way, till the doctor +was found. + +The cold applications, the resting posture, seemed to do their work, +and Mr. Simlins was rewarded with a smile from both eyes and lips. He +did not speak again however till he had seen a spoonful of brandy enter +the lips; then with a grave concern that did not seem like Mr. Simlins, +he said, in a subdued tone, + +"How do you find yourself? Can you speak now?" + +"Not much--" Mr. Linden answered with some effort. "I find myself in +very kind hands." + +"Are you hurt anywhere else?" + +"Somewhat--the shot scattered, I think." + +There was a smothered execration, and then it was a very kind hand that +renewed the touch of cold water to his forehead, though a big, brown +and rough one. + +"I've sent for the doctor--and now I'll get you a nurse. You keep +quiet, till you can do something else." + +Mr. Simlins gently went forth; and in a minute after was in the midst +of his husking party in the barn. + +"Reuben Taylor!" said the farmer--"You don't mind takin' a run, do you? +Wouldn't you just as lieves help me catch that black heifer--afore she +gets to Pequot?" + +Reuben started up, and signified his ability to catch anything +whatever. He was not alone; for half a dozen others volunteered to be +equally ready. + +"You keep where you be!" said the farmer with a wave of his hand to the +half dozen. "I don't let everybody chase that 'ere heifer--you've got +to catch her by the head and not by the foot, I tell _you!_ Reuben, you +come along." + +And getting him well outside of the barn and half way towards the +house, Mr. Simlins said in a very low growl indeed, + +"Mr. Linden's here--he's been hurt, somehow, in his arm--and he's kind +'o faint; I want you to stay by him till the doctor comes, and then let +me know. If I don't keep in the barn they'll raise Plute--or they'll +come in--and I'd as lieves they'd do one as 'tother." + +By this time Mr. Simlins had reached the door of his room, and ushered +Reuben in. He heard--and long remembered--the smothered cry which +seemed to come no further than Reuben's lips as he stepped within the +door; but after that the boy might have been made of iron, for his +strength and steadiness. He walked up to the bedside and knelt down by +it, with a look which again Mr. Simlins could not soon forget; but his +face was quite calm, except in the first moment when Mr. Linden looked +at him. The farmer was a man of iron too, yet his voice was low and +changed from its usual wont when he spoke. + +"It's only loss of blood, I guess," he said. "He'll get along. You give +him brandy, and water, Reuben, if he wants it; and call me when Dr. +Harrison comes. Can I do anything else?" The last words were gently, +even tenderly, addressed to the sufferer. + +"No--" Mr. Linden said, with that same pleasant look of the eyes. "I +think there is not much the matter--except what you said." + +Mr. Simlins stalked off and was rather more grim than usual in the +barn. The huskers had returned to their merriment, and the slight sound +of wheels in the road from time to time of course attracted no +attention. After one of these signals, however, Jem Waters appeared at +the front door. + +"Mr. Simlins there's a gentleman wants to see yer. I'll take yer place." + +"Very few strides did Mr. Simlins make between the barn and the house, +and slight was his stay of greeting to Dr. Harrison. + +"He's in here--" said he leading the way. + +Reuben was just as Mr. Simlins had left him,--it seemed as if he had +not once taken his eyes from the calm face before him. For very calm it +was--reposeful; with not a line disturbed except where a slight +contraction of the brow told of some physical discomfort. But he was +not asleep, for he looked at them the moment they entered; and Reuben +rose then, and stood leaning against the bedpost. + +"I'm sorry to see you so," said the doctor. "What's the matter? and +where?" + +A little smile, a glance towards the bandaged arm, seemed to say there +was nothing very bad, but that what there was it would be easier for +him to have the doctor find out for himself. + +Nor further did the doctor ask, but proceeded to work. And it appeared +soon that Dr. Harrison at play, and Dr. Harrison at work, were two +people--yet the same! The doctor did not indeed play at his work; yet +the work was done with the same skilful ease that he brought to his +play; an ignorant eye could see as much; and Mr. Simlins jealously +looking on, felt very soon at ease as to the doctor's part in the scene +before him. Dr. Harrison knew his business, and knew it well. + +Mr. Linden's coat was removed, in the course of which operation a keen +glance of the doctor's eye over at Reuben shewed that he recognized +him; but then he attended to nothing but his patient. He found that a +number of duck shot had been lodged in Mr. Linden's side and arm, the +latter of which was somewhat lacerated, and this was the principal +wound. The others were slight, the shot having taken a slanting +direction and so rather grazed than penetrated. Dr. Harrison with care +and skill went on to extract the shot and dress the wounds, which he +did after the happy and simple regimen of modern discoveries; and +ordered certain restoratives which he judged his patient needed. He did +not speak except on business till he had seen these doing their work +and Mr. Linden able to reply to him. And then his first words were to +the farmer; who, not asking a question, had stood by as silent and +watchful as Reuben himself; nearly as grave. + +"There's nothing the matter with him, Mr. Simlins," he said. "He'll be +able to shoot you in a day or two--if he has a mind. What have you been +doing to him?" + +"_Me!_ I've been actin' the part of the good Syrian to him," growled +Mr. Simlins;--"only I always thought before, the oil and wine went on +the outside instead of the inside." + +"I dare say," said the doctor lightly, probably not understanding the +allusion. And then he seated himself on the side of the bed, looking +down at his patient very much in his usual manner. + +"You'll have made yourself the hero of Pattaquasset, Linden," he said. +"There won't another fellow stand a chance to be looked at for a month +to come--from here to Quilipeak. You ought to be indicted for breach of +the public peace." + +"Don't try it--" said Mr. Linden. "I should doubtless prevail with the +jury too." + +"Ha?--" said the doctor with another glance over at Reuben. "Now how +did this come about?" + +"Quite suddenly--as I was walking home." + +"Where were you?" + +"About a mile from here, in the open road." + +"Who was fool enough to be shooting ducks in the open road and mistake +you for a specimen?--You are not at all the sort of man I should ever +think of making game of." + +"I tried hard to find out who it was," said Mr. Linden,--"but he was a +better runner than I, or else my strength gave out." + +"Why how did the thing happen?" said the doctor. "Run!--you don't +suppose the fellow meant to hit you?" + +"He meant to run--" said Mr. Linden. + +The doctor looked at Mr. Simlins, with a serio-comical expression. + +"Worse and worse!" said he. "It is a full-grown, regular built +adventure; and this is a hero from head to foot." + +"Which way did the fellow run?" said Mr. Simlins, with a growl that was +ominous. + +"Straight ahead--till he got into the woods," said Mr. Linden, smiling +at his host. "But he probably turned there, Mr. Simlins." + +"I'll have him!" said Mr. Simlins--"I'll foller his tracks, if they +lead me to the two poles of the axletree! You tell me where you see +him, and I'll set runners on, that won't give out neither." + +"They'd be as likely to run against each other as any way, in this mist +to-night," said the doctor. "You'd better leave all that till the +morning. I'll see you again to-morrow," said he holding out his hand to +Mr. Linden. "I suppose they don't know what is become of you at Mrs. +Derrick's--I will stop there as I go home and make myself as famous as +I can. Though 'the first bearer of unwelcome news' does not recommend +himself to favour, yet if they have heard anything, on the whole they +will thank me. I'll take my risk." + +"I am a little inclined to ride down with you," said Mr. Linden. + +"Folly!" said the doctor. "Mr. Simlins is acting a good part by you, he +says,--which I presume is true, though I did not understand his terms; +but I have no doubt he'll prove himself good for a day or two's board +and lodging. I wish I had had the pleasure of finding you at my own +door, instead of his having it!" + +"The question is whether I shall be good for a day or two--I have no +doubt of Mr. Simlins." + +"Does that mean you are going to disobey me? You grudge me that little +bit of famousness?" + +"I shall hear the orders _before_ I disobey--" + +The doctor looked at him a minute. "Linden,"--said he,--"you're +alarmingly well! but you must remain in quarters for another night or +two. It would be dangerous to let you go. I can't allow it. Good +night!--" + +Either the stimulus of the doctor's presence had been strong, or the +effort to appear well had been fatiguing; and Dr. Harrison would have +pronounced another verdict had he seen his patient ten minutes later. +When Mr. Simlins came back into the room, Mr. Linden looked pale and +exhausted. He roused himself however, at once. + +"Mr. Simlins," he said, "will you drive me into Pattaquasset to-night." + +"You aint a goin' to do that?" said the farmer. + +"That was my intention. Why not?" + +"You aint fit for it, no ways! Can't you stop here one night and be +peaceable?" + +"Yes, both," said his guest smiling. "But if I do not go, I must send," +he added after a minute's silence, during which perhaps some feeling of +weakness came in aid of the doctor's orders.--"And I do not think it +would hurt me to go." + +"Send!" said Mr. Simlins--"there's lots to send. Here's Reuben, and Sam +Stoutenburgh--the boys aint gone yet--and here's me. Who do you want to +send to?" + +"I want to send _for_ two or three things out of my room. Reuben can +go--and Sam may sit here with me, if you will sleep any better for it, +Mr. Simlins. That is what _you_ must do," he said with a look of warm +interest and kindness. + +"Sleep!" growled Mr. Simlins. "It's about all I'm good for!" (Which was +not at all Mr. Simlins' abstract judgment concerning himself--purely +comparative, on the present occasion.) "Well--you tell Reuben what you +want him to do, and he can take the brown mare--Jem'll have her +ready--and I'll send Sam to you; and after I get rid of all creation, +I'll come myself. You'd think all creation was just made, and the chips +about!" + +After which setting forth of the state of his affairs Mr Simlins went +forth. + +"I guess, sir," said Jem Waters when he had done his task with the +mare, "I guess I'd as good sleep in the front porch to-night. 'Cause if +there'll be one here, there'll be forty." + +"What'll the forty do?" + +"Knock the house down, sir, if there's nobody there to stop 'em. Bless +you, sir, all Pattaquasset 'll come to hear how Mr. Linden is, afore +day. There won't one on 'em wait two minutes after he hears the tale. +It's all about by this time--I made one gal mad by not tellin' her, and +I guess likely she's made it up for herself and other folks by now." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + + +Dr. Harrison did not find anybody at Mrs. Derrick's gate. The two, +mother and daughter, had stood there, even after Cindy had come in with +her report; unconscious, or unregardful, of the chill thick mist which +enveloped everything and fell with steady heavy fall upon the bright +hair of one and the smooth cap of the other. They had not spoken to +each other all that while, unless an unfinished word or two of Mrs. +Derrick's reached ears that did not heed them. It was Faith herself who +first moved, perhaps reminded by the increasing dullness that her +mother was feeling it too. She took her hand from the gate, and passing +the other round Mrs. Derrick, led her into the house, and into the +sitting-room and to a chair; and then went for wood and kindling and +built up a fire. She went to the kitchen next. That fire was out too, +and that fire also Faith rebuilt, and coaxed till a blaze was going up +round the cold tea kettle. Cindy sat with her head on her arms on the +kitchen table, fast asleep. Faith did not wake her. In half an hour she +brought into the sitting-room a tray with tea made, and clams warmed, +and all things that should accompany the one teacup and saucer, and +mutely set it before her mother. She did not then ask her to eat, +except by this pantomime; and she herself immediately went again to +stand in the porch. But again her mother followed. + +"Child," she said, "you mustn't stand here. You'll be sick next. You +must come right in and drink some hot tea." + +Faith's quick answer was to put her hand upon her mother's lips. Her +mother went on, softly and steadily, in spite of that slight +obstruction. Yet not in spite of it, for her voice was very low. + +"I know who'd say you ought to--" and she paused a little, as if to let +her words have their full effect. Then with a carious sort of instinct +she herself hardly perceived, Mrs. Derrick added, + +"Dr. Harrison'll be sure to come--and you mustn't be standing here +then." + +For the first time Faith's head drooped, and she turned, but it was to +pass her mother and go upstairs; laying her hand for an instant as she +went, with a kind of caressing touch, on her mother's arm; then she was +gone. + +Mrs. Derrick stood where Faith left her, the still mist before her out +of doors, the still house behind her. And there she stood until her ear +caught the distant smooth roll of wheels. Softly it came, nearing her +every minute, till Mrs. Somers' little wagon stopped at the gate, and +Dr. Harrison jumped down and came towards her. Another had seen him, +for Mrs. Derrick knew that a light step had come swiftly down stairs, +but whither it went she knew not. The doctor spoke cheerily. + +"Nasty thick evening! My dear Mrs. Derrick, do you stand at the door to +shew your hospitality in welcoming your friends, all night?" + +"It _is_ late," said Mrs. Derrick. The doctor's words were too slippery +for her to get hold of; she waited for him to speak again. + +"If it is late, my dear madam, why are you here? I don't want you to +see me ever for anything but pleasure. Is it so late I mustn't come in?" + +Mrs. Derrick stepped back into the hall--then stopped and turned. + +"I was there to watch, Dr. Harrison. What have you got to tell me? One +story has come already." + +"Has it! Then I can tell you but half a one. I was thinking to make my +fortune. Mr. Linden is spending the night at a friend's house, my dear +Mrs. Derrick--that is all. He is as well as you are--though perhaps +just at this minute not quite so strong as I am. But I am afraid he can +boast more than that in another few days." + +That Mrs. Derrick felt at once relieved, doubtful, unsatisfied, was +clear. But the relief--slight as it was--brought back her hospitality; +she led the way into the parlour. + +"What has been the matter?" she said. "What _is_ the matter?" + +"_I_ don't know," said the doctor. "He fell in with somebody carrying a +gun--which was very likely to happen, seeing I have met a great many +myself; but I never fell _out_ with any of them yet--perhaps my time +will come.--This fellow however, let off his gun in the wrong place and +some of the shot hit Mr. Linden in the arm, and before he could get to +Mr. Simlins, where I found him, he was a little faint. So I commanded +him to stay where he was till morning. That's all. He's perfectly well, +I give you my word. I came now on purpose to relieve you from anxiety. +He wanted to come down with me, but I wouldn't let him." + +"Why didn't you let him?" said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Well, I came near letting him," said the doctor,--"for I didn't know +at one time that I could help it. It wouldn't have hurt him seriously. +But he'll see you with more pleasure to-morrow." + +"I can't think how you made out to hinder him at all!" said Mrs. +Derrick, looking a little puzzled. "But I'm much obliged to you, +doctor, for coming." + +"Is he such a difficult person to deal with?" said the doctor, glancing +at the different doors of the room. + +"I never tried," said Mrs. Derrick with very simple truth. + +"I must try, some time," said the doctor abstractedly:--"I like to deal +with difficult people.--But I remember you remarked it was late!--" And +he started up and was about to take his leave; when his purpose met +with an interruption. For the swift trot of a horse upon the road came +to as quick a pause at Mrs. Derrick's gate, and Reuben Taylor came up +the steps and in at the open front door before Dr. Harrison had +finished his compliments. + +"I see!" said the doctor,--"you don't keep open doors for nothing, Mrs. +Derrick. Here's another. You're not riding after me, my friend, are +you? You don't let the grass grow!" + +"No sir," said Reuben. "Good evening, Mrs. Derrick--may I go up to Mr. +Linden's room?" + +"How is he now, Reuben?" said Mrs. Derrick. "O yes, you can go up, of +course." + +"Thank you, ma'am--he said he was more comfortable when I came away." +And with an almost imperceptible glance round the room he was in, +Reuben turned and bounded lightly up the staircase. But all was dark +there and in Mr. Linden's room. Reuben could not execute his commission +so; and was turning to come down stairs again, when he encountered in +the dim entry-way a white figure. + +"How _is_ Mr. Linden, Reuben?" said a voice which he knew, though it +was in a very low key. + +"Miss Faith!" Reuben said with a little start--"O I am so glad to find +you!"--Then repeated gravely his former answer--"He said he was more +comfortable when I came away, ma'am." + +"Is he much hurt?" + +Reuben hesitated. + +"I don't rightly know, Miss Faith," he said, so low that she could +scarce catch the words. "He says he's not--and Dr. Harrison says +not,--I suppose I'm easy frightened." + +"What makes you frightened, then?" she said quickly. + +"I was frightened--" Reuben said, drawing a long breath, and with a +sort of awe-stricken voice, as if the fright was upon him yet;--"and it +takes a while to get over it. Maybe that's all. He wrote that, Miss +Faith--" and Reuben laid a tiny folded paper in her hand. "And may I +have a light, ma'am, to get some things from his room?" He spoke +eagerly now, as if he grudged the moments. + +Faith directed him to the kitchen, and when Reuben came up, followed +him into the room and stood waiting while he sought what he wanted. +Then suddenly remembered that her paper might contain a request for +something else, and bent over the candle to read it. It contained more +than one. + +"Miss Faith," it said, "if any of my scholars are anxious about me, +tell them, _from_ me, that there is no cause. Bid them take +rest--without 'waiting for it.'--I am sorry that exercise must +wait!--but I shall hope to see _two_ on Monday. J. E. L." + +Faith's head was bent a long while over the candle. + +"Have you got what you wanted, Reuben?" she asked at last. + +Reuben had heard her voice often, but he had never heard it like +that--nor any one else. What had passed through it, clearing it so? it +was like the chiming of silver bells. He came at her word, bag in hand; +and--with the freedom a mutual sorrow gives,--held out his other hand +to her. Then ran quick and softly down the stairs. + +"Hollo, sir!" said the doctor, as Reuben passed the open doorway. "A +word with you." Reuben paused, then came back a step. + +"So you are Mr. Linden's friend, are you?" said the doctor in a +careless manner. + +"Did you want anything of me, sir?" Reuben said. + +"Why yes--I commonly want an answer to a question." + +"I don't just know what you mean by a friend, Dr. Harrison," said +Reuben respectfully. "I might answer wrong." + +"So rather than do that--You like to be on the safe side. Suppose you +ask Mr. Linden to teach you definitions, among other things? And look +here--keep him quiet and don't let anybody talk him out of his sleep to +night. That's all." And the doctor followed Reuben immediately. + +With a feeling of satisfaction certainly, Mrs. Derrick at last locked +and bolted the front door, shutting out the driving mist and all that +might hide within it; and then went to look after the only treasure the +house contained. She wasn't far to seek, for as the locking and bolting +sounded through the house, Faith came down and went with her mother +into the sitting-room. + +"Have you had nothing to eat yet, mother!" she exclaimed as her eye +fell on the orderly tea-tray. + +"No child--nor sha'n't want it, till I see you have something." + +Faith smiled a little, came and put her arms round her and kissed her; +and then set about the whole work of getting tea over again. It was +with a very pale face yet; only the silver ring of her voice told the +change of the mental atmosphere. Her mother looked at her--but was +perhaps afraid to ask any questions to disturb the quiet. + +"Reuben's a good boy!" she said, feeling that remark to be perfectly +safe. + +"I'm glad he's there," Faith answered gravely. "I heard all Dr. +Harrison said, mother." + +"Yes child," said her mother--as if she knew that before,--"I thought +you'd see Reuben too." + +"Reuben said the same, mother. And Mr. Linden himself sent word there +was no cause to be anxious." + +Faith did not say he had written that word to her. Perhaps her own +consciousness might have made her shy of the subject--or perhaps what +she judged to be people's false reports had left a sore spot in her +heart and she was afraid of touching _that_. But she did not speak of +the little note which had come to her. She was preparing her mother's +tea with all speed, while Mrs. Derrick on her part peeped into the +sugar-bowl to see if it wanted filling, and began to cut the bread. + +"I'm glad to hear it, child," she said. "Dr. Harrison's too smart for +me--I can't get a bit of good out of _him_. My, Faith! I suppose Mr. +Linden can manage him, but if I had that man buzzing round _me_, I +shouldn't know whether I was sick or well. When is he coming back, +child?" + +"I don't know, mother."--Then with the invincible instinct of truth, +she added, "He wants my work to be ready for him Monday." + +"Reuben's got a great deal of gumption!" said Mrs. Derrick, her heart +quite expanding with the pleasure of hearing Faith talk once more. "Now +half the boys in town would have blurted that right out to me and Dr. +Harrison together,--and I wouldn't trust _him_ for not asking +questions. But I'm sure I'm glad, child--it seems as if he'd been gone +a month. Do you think he'll come to morrow? Maybe he meant you should +send your work down to him." + +"I sha'n't do that," said Faith, as she gave her mother at last a cup +of tea that was to be drunk. But she had poured out none for herself. +She sat before the tea-tray, still and pale. Her mother looked at her. + +"You must take some, child." + +"I don't want it, mother."--And she brought everything that was on the +table round her mother's plate. + +"You must--" Mrs Derrick repeated. "I sha'n't, if you don't,--or else +I'll get you a glass of wine. Why child," she said, with a half sober, +half smiling look, which Faith for once did not read,--"he's better. +You ought to eat and be thankful." + +"I am thankful,"--Faith said, her head sinking for a moment. + +Mrs Derrick deliberately got up, went to the pantry, and fetching +thence a tiny cup and plate set them before Faith. + +"Eat, pretty child!" she said. "You know I'm right. If you don't look +out, Mr. Linden 'll be worse scared when he comes home than he's been +to-day, I guess." + +Faith gave her a look, both grateful and appealing, and very innocent +of belief in her statement;--and did honour the little cup so far as to +fill it with tea which she swallowed. But the plate she left clean. + +"I can't to-night, mother," she said in answer to Mrs. Derrick's look. +"I'll eat breakfast." + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + + +It cannot be said that sleep came to Faith's eyes unbidden,--yet once +come, sleep rested there sweetly, even beyond her usual time; and the +first disturbing sound, in that misty Sunday morning, was the stopping +of a wagon at the front door. But if Faith ran to the window with any +special expectations, they were disappointed,--there was nothing at the +door but Crab, his companion the little wagon, and Mrs. Derrick +composedly getting out of the same. Which was at least surprising +enough. The good lady's next appearance was a very noiseless one in +Faith's room. + +"Dear mother! where have you been?" + +"Why I've been trying to get ahead of Dr. Harrison," said her mother +sitting down; "and I did it too. I should have been home before if I +hadn't been afraid of meeting him--so I had to take a cross road." Mrs. +Derrick seemed tired. + +"You needn't look at me so, child," she said, taking off her bonnet. +"It's enough to see one pale face in a morning. I did see him, Faith, +though I didn't speak to him." + +"How did he look, mother?" + +"I don't suppose he really looked bad--considering," said Mrs. Derrick, +with the tired look on her own face; "but I am not used to seeing him +pulled down. It sort of upset me to see him lie there and those two +boys keeping watch of him. I declare, Faith! I wouldn't like to be the +one to touch him with them sitting by!" + +"But how is he, mother? who did you see?" + +"I didn't see anybody but them--Mr. Simlins wasn't up. They said he +seemed better, dear--and that if I'd seen him last night I'd think he +had quite a colour now: so I suppose he is better. Only I haven't got +the heart of a kitten sometimes--" and a little motion of the lips +warned Faith that if her mother was sparing of details it was because +she could scarce give them. + +"But isn't he as well as the doctor said? He would look pale, you +know"-- + +"I shouldn't have known from what the doctor said, that he'd anything +more than a scratch on the tip end of his little finger!" said Mrs. +Derrick,--"so I believe I didn't expect even to see him look pale. And +all the while, the doctor was staring at the pantry doors--I didn't +know but he'd get up and open 'em and look in." + +"You said _two_ boys were there? who beside Reuben Taylor?" + +"O Sam Stoutenburgh was 'tother side," said Mrs. Derrick, "and wanted +to know how you were. I'd a great mind to tell him it was none of his +business. I suppose he thinks his heart is as large as he is, and can +hold everything at once." + +A shadow of something seemed to cross Faith at the mention of Sam's +name. She turned away and began dressing herself. + +"Don't stir again, mother," she said. "I'll come down and see about +breakfast." + +"It'll rest me to go with you, child,--I told Reuben I'd come again and +stay if Mr. Linden would let me, and Reuben will send me word. So I +want to see you in the mean time. But I don't think they'll send." + +The breakfast was a quiet meal, though Faith but poorly performed her +promise of eating. How Faith spent the hour after breakfast her mother +could but guess; then she came out with her bonnet on and kissed her +before setting off to Sunday school. The thick mist yet filled the air, +growing yellow now with the struggling sunbeams. She walked quick and +met nobody. + +Till she came to her place, and there she found not Charles twelfth +alone, but the two other little additions to her charge that had been +promised her. For though it was by no means 'cold weather'--the warm +sunny days lingering yet and this Sunday promising to be a good +specimen,--it happened that Johnny and his companion had received a +special injunction to come, as Faith found out, and were there +accordingly. + +And if Johnny regretted his old place in another class, it was not for +the reason his new teacher had feared. Faith's face was very +pale,--that of itself touched the children; and her words this day came +in a tone that won all the recesses of their hearts. She had forgot +about other teachers or children being in her neighbourhood; on those +three her stores of love and tenderness poured themselves out. She told +them with warm lips, of Christ and his love and his leading,--of the +safety and joy of his sheep,--of her wish that her little charge should +be lambs in that flock, and what sort of lambs they must be. Faith +spoke to her children very much as if she had been a child herself. +They knew instinctively, with very sure knowledge, that she belonged to +the fold of which she was joyously telling them. + +The children, on their part, met her variously. Johnny--with his clear +childish eyes, the flower-like unfolding of his little heart to that +warm sunshine--gave her more help than trouble,--she understood the +liking to teach him for her own sake. If his thoughts sometimes +wandered a little from her words, the downcast look, the slight quiver +of his childish lips, told Faith where they had gone; and she could +forgive him. But though at such times Robbie Waters always remembered +to look grave too, yet he displaced Faith's gravity once by whispering +to her (in the midst of her earnest admonitions to Charles twelfth) +that 'she knew she was pretty'; and was in general in an easy, docile +state of mind, and much interested and amazed at the 'deportment' of +his little neighbour, Charles twelfth. When Faith came out of the +school, she saw that all the seats of Mr. Linden's class were vacant; +and with that little reminding touch, went to her own place in the +church. + +It was between nine and ten o'clock, while Faith was yet lost in her +little charge, while Mrs. Derrick at home was thinking of her, and Mr. +Simlins was taking his late breakfast, that Dr. Harrison's curricle +reached the farmer's gate. All was quiet without the house, but when +Jenny Lowndes admitted the doctor into the hall, the array of hats and +caps upon the table might have startled a less professional man; might +have even suggested the idea that Mr. Simlins was giving a breakfast +party. + +"Let me see Mr. Linden," said the doctor. + +Jenny hesitated--then her fear of Dr. Harrison overcoming her scruples, +she walked softly to the door and opened it. But if the doctor wanted +to see his patient, he was obliged to wait a little; for the group of +boys--some standing, some kneeling--around the bed, hid everything +else. The room was very still, very _earnest;_ even Dr. Harrison could +feel that; the sound of words, very low-spoken, was all he could hear. +The closing door made itself heard, however,--several boys turned +round, and at once stepped aside; and the doctor saw his patient, not +dressed but lying as he had left him the night before. Mr. Linden +smiled--and saying some words to his class held out his hand towards +the doctor; but this was fastened upon at once by so many, that the +doctor again had to wait his turn; and it was not until everyone else +had touched that hand, some even with their lips, that he was left +alone with his patient. + +"What are you doing?" said he, in a sort of grave tone which did not +however mean gravity. "Holding a levee?--and do you receive your +courtiers at different hours according to their ages? in that case. I +have come at the wrong time." + +"No, you shall have the time all to yourself." + +"I see I have it! Are the juvenile members of society in Pattaquasset +accustomed to pay their respects to you at this hour in the morning?" + +"Not always. Once a week we meet to talk over pleasant things." + +"Have I interrupted the pleasant things now?" + +"No, I could not talk very long this morning. The boys were just going." + +"I wish I had come a little sooner," said Dr. Harrison. "I'm not a boy, +to be sure, but I don't know that they are privileged to monopolize all +pleasant things. If they are, I am against monopolies. However, if you +can't talk, you mustn't talk. How do you do?" + +"I do well--if a man can be doing well when he's doing nothing. I will +talk as long as you please--about pleasant things." + +The doctor however diverged to the state of his patient's health, nor +would talk of anything else till his investigations on that point were +made. The result of them seemed to be satisfactory. + +"Now Linden," he said, in atone that indicated they were free to ask +and answer,--"who was that fellow last night? have you any idea?" + +"It is difficult to identify a man when you are only within gunshot of +him--and after sundown," said Mr. Linden smiling. + +"Difficult--yes, it may be,--but you gathered something?" + +"I gathered a run." + +"That is," said the doctor looking at him, "you _have_ an opinion on +the subject and are not willing to risk it?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden, "I have had risk enough for one night." + +"You are mistaken, Linden. A hint might be quite enough to bring out +the certainty. My father is very eager about the matter, and is only +waiting for you to empower him to act." + +"I shall give you no hint," said Mr. Linden. "I might be willing to +risk my own opinion, but not another man's character." + +The doctor looked at him keenly and curiously. + +"What possible motive!"--he said. "For it is evident that the shot was +fired of intent, and evident that you yourself think so. It is +unheard-of!" + +"Were you bred to the bar, that you sum up evidence before it is +given?" said Mr. Linden, with a good-humoured raising of his brows at +the doctor. + +"But the man ran!" + +"So did I--he could hardly think I was much hurt." + +"I don't want to have such a fellow abroad in Pattaquasset," said the +doctor. "But suppose we go back to the pleasant things. You must start +the subject, Linden. Rousseau says a man can best describe the sweets +of liberty from the inside of a prison--so, I suppose, you being shot +at and laid on your back, can have no lack of theme." + +Mr. Linden smiled--the smile of a most unfettered spirit. + +"Liberty!" he said. "Yes, I have realized since I have lain here, that-- + + 'My soul is free, as ambient air,'-- + +My sense of liberty comes from the possession--not the want." + +"Prospective possession,"--said the doctor. "Unless indeed," he went on +with a humorous play of the lips--"you mean that my orders to you to +lie still, merely gave zest to your triumphant knowledge that you could +get up if you had a mind. A riotous degree of self-will that I believe +I do not possess. Was that what good Mrs. Derrick meant when she said +she wondered how I had hindered you?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden smiling--"she meant that she did not think you +had." + +"She didn't mean a thing of the kind! She spoke in pure wonder, and +made me begin to wonder in my turn." + +Which wonder Mr. Linden did not inquire into. + +"I am very sorry I wasn't a boy this morning!" said Dr. Harrison, after +standing and looking down at him a little. + +"Can't you sit down and say why?" + +"I should have heard so much!--which now I am not to hear. For if I had +been a boy, I should certainly not have been missing at your levee." + +"O you deceive yourself,--if you were a boy nothing short of my +authority would bring you, in the first place." + +"I have not the slightest doubt the power would have been found equal +to the resistance," said the doctor bowing. + +"Neither have I." + +"Well!--" said the doctor laughing a little peculiarly,--"in that case +I should have been here. Now I have a fancy to know what you call +pleasant things, Linden. You speak with a mouth full--as if there were +plenty of them." + +"Yes, there are plenty," Mr. Linden said, moving a little and resting +his face on his hand as if he felt tired; "but we were talking of only +two this morning,--heaven, and the way thither." + +Dr. Harrison looked at him steadily. + +"You are tired," he said gently. "You shall not talk any more to me +now, and I shall forbid your holding any more levees to-day. After +which," he added, the humourous expression coming back, "I shall expect +to hear a proclamation going through Pattaquasset, that, like the +knights of old, you are ready for all comers!--Well--I'll come and see +you to-morrow; and as long as you'll let me, as a friend; for the +pleasure of talking. You can have it all your own way, with a few more +days' strength. Will you have a levee to-morrow at the same hour?" + +A little play of the lips came with the answer-- + +"Will that suit you?--I'll send you word." Then looking up at the +doctor with a different expression, he added, "What do you think of my +pleasant things?" + +"Hardly in my line--" said the doctor with a carelessness which was +somewhat dubious in its character. "It is very well for those who find +the subject pleasant. I confess I have never studied it much." + +"Then you have but half learned your profession." But the words were so +spoken that they could not give offence. + +Neither did the doctor seem disposed to take offence. + +"I'll ask you what you mean by that to-morrow," he said very +pleasantly. "I thought I had learned my profession. Have you learned +yours?" The last words were with a keen eye to the answer. + +"Some people dignify my present business with that name," Mr. Linden +said. + +"Well, you shall discourse to me more at length to-morrow," said the +doctor. "Shall I come later?" + +"I don't expect to be in school to-morrow, so you may name your own +time," Mr. Linden said with a pleasant look. "But remember,--a +physician who has no skill to feel the pulse of the mind, no remedies +that can reach its fever or its chills,--is but half a physician. If I +had never studied the subject,--one word about heaven and the way +thither would be worth more to me than all the science of medicine ever +discovered! It is now--" he said in a low tone, as the flush passed +away. And then holding out his hand to Dr. Harrison, Mr. Linden added, +"I fully appreciate your skill and kindness--you need not doubt it." + +The hand was taken, and grasped, cordially but in silence. + +Whether the doctor went straight from Mr. Simlins' house to +church--where he was not a very constant attendant--it does not appear. +What is certain about the matter, is, that he was outside of the church +door after service just at the time that Faith Derrick found herself +there, and that he assumed a place at her side and walked with her +towards her mother's house instead of taking the other direction +towards his own. Faith was alone, Mrs. Derrick having chosen to stay at +home _in case_ she should be sent for. The mist had cleared off +completely, and the sunny warm air invited to lingering in it. Faith +would not have lingered, but the doctor walked slowly, and she could +not leave him. + +"I have been wanting to see you, ever since my inopportune proposal +yesterday," said he in a low tone,--"to make my peace with you." + +"It is made, sir," said Faith, giving him a smile. + +"How do you do to-day?" + +"Very well!" she told him. + +The doctor listened to the sound of her voice, and thought with himself +that as regarded the moral part of her nature the words were certainly +true. + +"Let me have the pleasure of relieving you of that,"--he said, taking +Faith's little Bible gently away from her. "I am going your way. Miss +Derrick--you spoke yesterday of particular work to be done on Sunday. +Have you any objection to tell me what you meant by it? I confess to +you, your words are somewhat dark to me. That is my fault, of course. +Will you give me light?" It was a gentle, grave, quiet tone of +questioning. + +"Others might do it far better, sir," said Faith. + +"I would far rather hear it from you!" + +The colour came a little into Faith's cheeks, but her words were given +with great simplicity. + +"The other days are taken up very much with the work of this +world--Sunday is meant more particularly for the work that belongs to +the other world." + +"And what is that? if you do not object to tell me. I confess, as I +tell you, I am ignorant." + +She forgot herself now, and looked steadily at him. + +"To learn to know God--with whom we have so much to do, here and +there;--to learn to know his will and to do it, and to bring others to +do it too, if we can.--And if we know and love him already, to enjoy it +and take the good of it,"--she added a little lower, and with a +softening of expression. + +Dr. Harrison read her look fixedly, till she turned it away from him. + +"And are these what you call pleasant things?" said he somewhat +curiously. + +But Faith's answer rang out from her heart. + +"Oh yes!"-- + +She stopped there, but evidently not for want of what to say. + +"You are a happy thing," said the doctor, but not in a way to make his +words other than graceful. "I wish you would make me as good as you +are." + +She looked at him, and answered very much as if she had been speaking +to a child. + +"God will make you much better, Dr. Harrison, if you ask him." + +He was silent a minute after that, without looking at her. When he +spoke again, it was with a change of tone. + +"You are of a different world from that in which I live; and the +flowers that are sweet to you, belong, I am afraid, to a Flora that I +have no knowledge of. What, for instance, would you call pleasant +things to talk about--if you were choosing a subject of conversation?" + +Faith looked a little surprised. + +"A great many things are pleasant to me," she said smiling. + +"I am sure of that! But indulge me--what would you name as supremely +such, to talk about?" + +"If they are talked about _right_," said Faith gently, "I don't know +anything so pleasant as those things I was speaking of--what God will +have us do in this world, and what he will do for us in the next." + +"'Heaven and the way thither'--" said Dr. Harrison to himself. + +"What, sir?" said Faith. + +"I should like to have you answer me that; but I am sorry, I see Mrs. +Derrick's house not far beyond us.--I saw our friend Mr. Linden this +morning." + +"Is he better?" said Faith simply. + +"He's doing very well. I told him he'd be a terribly famous man after +this. And it's begun. I found near all the boys in Pattaquasset +assembled there this morning." + +"His Bible class--" said Faith, with a feeling which did not however +come into her face or voice, and Dr. Harrison watched both. + +"Here is _your_ Bible," he said as they stopped at the little gate. "Do +you always look so pale on Sundays?" he added with a look and tone of +half professional half friendly freedom. + +"Not always," Faith said; but there came at the same time a little +tinge into the cheeks,--that Dr. Harrison wished away. + +"May I come and earn your forgiveness for yesterday's stupidity?" + +"Certainly!" Faith said,--"but there needs no forgiveness--from me, Dr. +Harrison." + +He left her with a graceful, reverential obeisance; and Faith went in. + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + + +Dr. Harrison had but little left Mr. Linden that morning, when Mr. +Simlins came in. He had hardly seen his guest yet that day, except, +like Mrs. Derrick, when he was asleep. For having watched himself the +greater part of the night, for the pure pleasure of it, Mr. Simlins' +late rest had brought him almost to the hour when the boys came to what +the doctor called Mr. Linden's levee. + +"Well how do you find yourself?" said the farmer, standing at the foot +of the bed and looking at its occupant with a kind of grim satisfaction. + +"I find myself tired, sir--and at the same time intending to get up. +Mr. Simlins, are you going down to church this afternoon?" + +"Well, no," said the farmer. "I think it's as good church as I can do, +to look arter you." + +"You can have both," said Mr. Linden smiling,--"I should go with you." + +"You aint fit," said the farmer regretfully. + +"Fit enough--I'll come back and stay with you another day, when I am +well, if you'll let me." + +"Will you?" said the farmer. "I'll bottle that 'ere promise and cork it +up; and if it aint good when I pull the cork--then I'll never play +Syrian again, for no one. But s'pose I ain't goin' to church?" + +"Then I shall have to take Reuben." + +"You sha'n't take no one but me," growled Mr. Simlins. "I'd rather see +you out of my house than not--if I can't see you in it." + +The bells were ringing out for the early afternoon service when they +set forth; not ringing against each other, as which should give the +loudest call for its own particular church, but with alternate strokes +speaking the same thing--the one stepping in when the other was out of +broath. The warm sunshine rested upon all--"the evil and the good," and +spoke its own message though not so noisily. Along the road Mr. +Simlins' little covered wagon (chosen for various reasons) went at an +easy pace; with one to drive, and one to bear the motion as best he +might; and a third who would almost have agreed to be a pillow or a +cushion for the rest of his life, if he could have been one for that +day. What there were of that sort in the wagon, or indeed in the house, +were to Reuben's eyes far too thin and ineffectual. A little +excitement, a very earnest desire to get home once more, did partially +supply the need; and by the time the houses were empty and the churches +full, the wagon stopped at Mrs. Derrick's gate. + +"I guess nobody's home," said Mr. Simlins as he with great tenderness +helped Mr. Linden to alight--"but anyway, here's the house all +standin'. Reuben, you go ahead and see if we can get in." + +But before Reuben touched the door, Mrs. Derrick had opened it from the +inside, and stood there--her usually quiet manner quite subdued into +silence. Not into inaction however, for her woman's hands soon made +their superior powers known, and Mr. Simlins could only wonder why this +and that had not occurred to him before. Quick and still and +thoughtful, she had done half a dozen little things to make Mr. Linden +comfortable before he had been in the house as many minutes, and +assured the two others very confidently that "he shouldn't faint again, +if he wanted to ever so much!" + +"Well, I was sorry to let him go," said Mr. Simlins, "and now I'm glad +of it. It takes a woman! Where's some-somebody else?" + +"There's nobody else in the house," said Mrs. Derrick. "Faith's gone to +meeting, and Cindy too, for all I know." + +"I'll send Dr. Harrison word in the morning where _I_ am," said Mr. +Linden,--which Mr. Simlins rightly understood to mean that the fact +need not be published to-night. He took gentle leave of this lost guest +and went to church; excusing himself for it afterwards by saying he +felt lonely. + +If Faith had seen him there, she might have jumped at conclusions +again; but she did not; and after the service walked home, slowly +again, though nobody was with her. A little wearied by this time with +the night and the day's work, wearied in body and mind perhaps, she +paced homewards along the broad street or road, on which the yellow +leaves of the trees were floating lazily down, and which was all filled +from sky and wayside with golden light. It brought to mind her walk of +last Sunday afternoon--and evening;--the hymn, and those other lines +Mr. Linden had repeated and which had run in her head fifty times +since. And Faith's step grew rather slower and less lightsome as she +neared home, and when she got home she went straight up to her room +without turning to the right or the left. Her mother was just then in +the kitchen and heard her not, and shielded by her bonnet Faith saw not +even that Mr. Linden's door stood open; but when she came out again a +while after, the full stream of sunlight that came thence into the +passage drew her eyes that way. And Faith did not wonder then that her +mother had been startled, and unprepared by the doctor's words for the +sight of what she now saw. The chintz-covered couch was drawn before +the window, in the full radiance of the sunlight, and Mr. Linden lay +there looking out; but the sunlight found no glow in his face, unless +one as etherial as itself. The habitual sweet pure look was there--a +look that reminded Faith of the one Johnny had worn in the morning; but +the face was perfectly colourless. The bandaged arm was supported only +by a sling, upon the other hand his cheek rested wearily. Faith looked, +hesitated, then stepped lightly into the room and stood before him; +with a face not indeed quite so pale as his own, but that only the +sunlight hindered his seeing was utterly without its usual colour. She +found nothing to say, apparently: for she did not speak, only held out +her hand. He had turned at the first sound of her step and watched +her--at first smiling, then grave--as she came near; and taking her +hand as silently as it was given, Mr. Linden looked up at her +face,--perhaps to see whether his instructions had been obeyed. + +"I have had men's hands about me so long," he said, "that yours feels +like--" he did not specify what, but held it a minute as if he were +trying to find out. "Miss Faith, you want to be rocked to sleep." + +Could he see that her lips trembled? He could feel how her hand did; +but her look was as frank as ever. + +"Are you less well to-day?"--she said at last, in a voice that was +little above a whisper, and stopped short of his name. + +"Less well than yesterday at this time--not less well than this +morning. A little more tired, perhaps." He spoke very quietly, +answering her words and letting his hand and eye do the rest. "Has Mrs. +Derrick a cradle in the house that would hold you?" + +Perhaps Faith hardly heard the question, for she did not acknowledge it +by so much as a smile. She wished to ask the further question, whether +the assurance of last night was still true; but his appearance had +driven such fear to her heart that she dared not ask it. She stood +quite still a minute, but when she spoke her words were in the utmost +clear sweetness of a woman's voice. + +"Can I do something for you, Mr. Linden?" + +"You are doing something for me now--it is so pleasant to see you. But +Miss Faith, I shall have to reclaim some of your scholars; you have +been teaching too much to-day." + +"No--" she said,--"I have had no chance." + +"No chance to teach too much? And why?" + +"Why," she said--"I had only the usual hour this morning. I could do no +more." + +"You look as if you had been teaching all day--or taught, which is but +another branch. What did my boys say to you?" + +"I think they thought they were saying to you, Mr. Linden,--they +behaved so well." + +He smiled. + +"I don't believe even your conjuring powers could bring about such a +hallucination, Miss Faith.--What a day it has been! Look at that +sunlight and think of the city that hath 'no need of the sun'!" + +She looked where he bade her, but the contrast was a little too strong +just then with the earth that had so much 'need' of it! Only the +extreme gravity of her face however indicated anything of the struggle +going on. Her eye did not move,--nor eyelid. + + +"_That_ is the only rest we must wait 'for,'" Mr. Linden said. "That +'remaineth.'" + +Faith answered nothing. But after a little while the shadow of that +sunlight passed away from her face, and she turned to the couch again +and asked with her former gentle expression, + +"Will you have tea up here, Mr. Linden?" + +"I'm afraid I must," he said, looking up at her with eyes that rather +questioned than answered. + +"Does mother know what you would like to have?" + +"Miss Faith--I wish you would tell me just what is troubling you." + +The question flushed her a little, and for a moment her face was a +quick play of light and shade; then she said, + +"It troubled me not to see you looking better." + +He took the force of her words, though he answered lightly. + +"I suppose I do look rather frightful! But Miss Faith, I hope to get +over that in a few days--you must try and brace up your nerves, because +if you cannot bear the sight of me I shall have to deny myself the +sight of you." + +"Don't do that," she said, the light coming into her eye and voice as +if by an actual sunbeam. "Then it is true, what you wrote me last +night, Mr. Linden?" + +"Well!" he said--"I am not much in the habit of maintaining my own +words,--however, in this case I am willing to admit them true. If it +will be any relief to your mind, Miss Faith, I will promise to remain +in seclusion until you say I am fit to be seen down stairs." + +The answer to that was only a rosy little smile, like the sunlight +promise of fair weather on the last clouds that float over the horizon. +But perhaps his words had brought her mind back to the question of +supper for she asked again, + +"What are you to have for tea to-night, Mr. Linden?" + +"May I take a great liberty?" he said with a look as grave as before. + +"I don't know how you can,"--she said and with eyes somewhat surprised, +that said in their own way it was impossible. + +A little smile--which she scarce saw--came first, and then her hand was +brought to his lips. But it was done too gravely and gently to startle +even her. + +"Now you must go and rest," Mr. Linden said. "I want nothing for tea +that shall cost one extra step." + +Faith went about as silently and demurely as a cat that has had her +ears boxed and been sent out of the dairy. Only in this case she went +_to_ her dairy; from whence in due time she emerged with cream and +butter and made her appearance in the kitchen. + + +"Well _child!_" said Mrs. Derrick. "When did you get home? and what did +you do with yourself? I've looked and looked for you till I was tired, +and if you'd staid five minutes more I should have run all over town +after you." + +"Why mother!" said Faith, "I was in my own room for a good while. I got +home in usual time." + +"Well!"--said her mother, "I hope next time you'll say as much--that's +all. Do you know we've got company, Faith?" + +"Who, mother?--O I've seen Mr. Linden." + +"I meant him," said Mrs. Derrick. "I'm sure the house seems as if it +had twice as many in it since he came." + +"He ought to have tea, now, mother. Isn't Cindy home yet?" + +"No, but that's no matter--I'll take it up in two minutes. Where's the +teapot--" + +"I think, mother," said Faith as she was adding the last touches to the +tray which was to go up stairs,--"I must have put Mr. Linden in mind of +his sister, or somebody, this afternoon. I am afraid he misses them +now." + +"What do you mean by somebody?" said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Some of his own family, I mean. I thought so." + +"I don't believe you ever put anybody in mind of anybody else," said +Mrs. Derrick confidently. "What made you think so, child?" + +"Something made me think so,"--said Faith rather abstractly. "Now +mother--it is ready, and I'll take it up stairs if you'll take it then." + +"I guess I'm up to as much as taking it all the way," said her mother, +lifting the tray. "I'll be down presently, dear,--you must want _your_ +tea." And up stairs she went. + +Reuben came to stay all night, so the ladies had only to take their own +much needed sleep, in peace; and a note of information was left at Dr. +Harrison's door next morning, some time before that gentleman was awake. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + + +"I know what I have to do to-day," said Faith the next morning. "Mr. +Skip has got the box made, mother, and now I want the stuff to cover +it." + +"Well that's ready--in my pantry, child." + +Whereupon Reuben offered his services; but all that was given him to do +was to carry up Mr. Linden's breakfast. This was hardly well over when +Dr. Harrison came. He was shewn into the sitting-room, just as Faith +with her arms full of brown moreen came into it also from the pantry. +The doctor was not going to lose a shake of the hand, and waited for +the brown moreen to be deposited on the floor accordingly. + +"You are looking more like yourself to-day," he said. + +"I will call mother," said Faith. Which she did, leaving the doctor in +company with the brown moreen. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said he, speaking by no means without a purpose, "I +have cause of complaint against you! What have you done to allure my +patient down here against orders?" + +"He's better here," said Mrs. Derrick with a cool disposing of the +subject. "What did you want to keep him up there for, doctor?" + +"Only acted upon a vigorous principle of Mr. Linden's nature, +madam.--If I had ordered him to come, he would have stayed. May I see +him?" + +And Mrs. Derrick preceded the doctor up stairs, opened the door of the +room and shut it after him. Mr. Linden was on the couch, but it was +wheeled round by the side of the fire now, for the morning was cool. A +little heap of unopened letters and post despatches lay before him, but +the white paper in his hand seemed not to have come from the heap. As +the doctor entered, this was folded up and transferred to the disabled +hand for safe keeping. + +Mr. Linden had that quality (much more common among women than among +men) of looking well in undress; but let no one suppose that I mean the +combination of carelessness and disorder which generally goes by that +name, and which shews (most of all) undress of the mind. I mean simply +that style of dress which Sam Weller might call 'Ease afore +Ceremony;'--in its delicate particularity, Mr. Linden's undress might +have graced a ball-room; and, as I have said, the dark brown wrapper +with its wide sleeves was becoming. Dr. Harrison might easily see that +his patient was not only different from most of the neighbourhood, but +also from most people that he had seen anywhere; and that peculiar +reposeful look was strongly indicative of power. + +"Good morning!" said the doctor. "Do you expect me to behave well this +morning?" + +"Why no--" said Mr. Linden. "My experience hitherto has not led me to +expect anything of the sort." + +The doctor stood before the fire, looking down at him, smiling almost, +yet with a keen eye, as at a man whose measure he had not yet succeeded +in taking. + +"What did you come down here for, without my leave? And how do you do? +For you see, I mean to behave well." + +"I came down because I wanted to be at home," said Mr. Linden. "And I +did not ask leave, because I meant to come whether or no. You see what +a respect I have for your orders." + +"Yes," said the doctor,--"that is a very ancient sort of respect. How +do you do, Linden?" + +"I suppose, well,--as to feeling, I should not care to go through the +Olympic games, even in imagination; and the various sensations in my +left arm make me occasionally wish they were in my right." + +The doctor proceeded to an examination of the arm. It was found not to +be taking the road to healing so readily as had been hoped. + +"I am afraid it may be a somewhat tedious affair," said Dr. Harrison, +as he renewed the bandages in the way they ought to be. "I wish I had +hold of that fellow! This may take a little time to come to a +harmonious disposition, Linden, and give you a little annoyance. And at +the same time, it's what you deserve!" said he, retaking his disengaged +manner as he finished what he had to do. "I almost wish I could +threaten you with a fever, or something serious; but I see you are as +sound as that 'axletree' our friend spoke of the other day. There it +is! You have learned to do evil with impunity. For I confess this has +nothing to do with the exercise of your lawless disposition yesterday. +Why didn't you let me bring you, if you wanted to come? That old fellow +can't have anything drawn by horses, that goes easier than a harrow!" + +"Let you bring me!" said Mr. Linden. "Would you have done it against +your own orders?" + +"Under your authority! which is equal to anything, you know." + +"Well," said Mr. Linden, "will you take a seat under my authority, and +then take the benefit of my fire? What is going on in the outer world?" + +"I haven't any idea!" said the doctor. "Pattaquasset seems to me to be, +socially, at one extreme pole of the axletree before-mentioned, and +while I am here I feel no revolution of the great mass heaving beyond. +It takes away one's breath, does Pattaquasset." + +"You are making it akin to 'the music of the spheres,'" said Mr. Linden. + +"Is that what you find in Pattaquasset?" said the doctor. "Your ears +must be pleasantly constituted--or more agreeably saluted than those of +other mortals. The only music I know of here is Miss Derrick's voice. +Does she feed upon roses, like the Persian bulbul?" + +"I should suppose not--unless roses impart their colour in that way," +said Mr. Linden, softly turning the folded paper from side to side. + +"This is a nice place," said the doctor surveying the room--"and you +look very comfortable. I should like to take your invitation and sit +down--but I mustn't. Won't you try and put a good opinion of me into +the head of Mrs Derrick?" + +"What an extraordinary request!" said Mr. Linden, laughing a little. +"Pray what am I to understand by it? And why mustn't you sit +down?--here is something to rejoice your heart with a few of the +aforesaid upheavings of Society;" and he handed the doctor an unopened +foreign newspaper. + +"Absolutely irresistible!" said the doctor, and he broke the cover, +took a chair and sat down before the fire; where for awhile to all +appearance he also made himself 'comfortable'; and certainly turned and +returned and ran over the paper in an artistic manner. + +"After all," said he, "it's a bore! this alternation of knocking each +other down which the nations of the earth practise,--and the +societies,--and the men! It's a pugilistic world we live in, Linden. +It's a bore to keep up with them,--for one must know who's atop--both +in Europe and in Pattaquasset--where you are just now the king of men's +mouths--And all the while it don't a pin signify, except to the one who +is atop;--I beg your pardon!" + +"How long must I, being 'atop,' lie here? All this week?" + +"What will you do if I say more than that?" + +"Why I'll listen respectfully. Do you know I like to see you sitting +there?--Here is another paper for you." + +The doctor looked at him with an odd, frankly inquisitive smile; but he +only took the paper to play with it. + +"I wonder if I may ask a roundabout favour from you?" + +"You may ask anything--" said Mr. Linden. "I would rather have it in a +straight-forward form." + +"Can't," said the doctor, "because it is crooked. I suppose at this +hour every lady in Pattaquasset expects that her friends will not call +her away from her affairs; and I stupidly forgot to deliver my message +when I had a moment's chance this morning. Now as it is possible you +may see this--if she cannot be called the silver-footed Thetis, she is +certainly the silver-tongued--you would know how to address her?" + +"Thetis!--probably, when I see her." + +"I may presume you will know her when you see her,--and that brings me +to my point. I have got some good microscopic preparations which I am +to have the pleasure of exhibiting to-night to some friends of my +sister. Now it would greatly add to her pleasure and mine, if this +mortal Polyhymnia will consent to be of the number--and this is what I +was going to ask you, if you please, to communicate to her or to her +mother, in whose good graces, as I told you," said the doctor with a +funny smile, "I don't think I have the honour to stand high. Sophy +would have written this morning, but I gave her no chance. I will call +for Miss Derrick this evening if she will allow me." + +Mr. Linden took out his pencil and made a note of the facts. + +"First," he said, "I am to communicate, then you are to call, after +that to exhibit. Do you call that crooked?--why it's as straight as the +road from here to your house." + +Dr. Harrison looked--and for a minute did not anything else. + +"For your arm, Linden," he said then getting up from his chair, and a +smile of doubtful comicality moving his lip a little--"we shall know +better about it in two or three weeks; but certainly I think you must +be content to stay at home for double those--that's undoubted." + +Mr. Linden gave the doctor a quick glance, but the smile which followed +was 'undoubted' in another way. + +"When two opposing forces meet at right angles, doctor," he said, "you +know what happens to the object. Not contented inertia." + +"Contented! no, very likely,--not when it is _this_ object. But you +will find a third force will establish the inertia." + +"What is your third force?" + +"The necessity of the case," said the doctor seriously. + +But to that Mr. Linden made no reply. The conversation had been kept up +not only against weakness but against pain, and he lay very still and +colourless for a long time after the doctor closed the door. + +Meanwhile Faith, busy at her brown moreen, made her mother's job of +mending seem like embroidery; but by degrees Mrs. Derrick's face became +thoughtful, and she said, rather emphatically, + +"Child, have you been up to see Mr. Linden to-day?" + +Faith's hammer dropped, and her hands too. + +"No, mother," she said, looking at her. + +"Why child!"--Mrs. Derrick began,--then she stopped and began again. "I +guess he'd rather see you than that box, child,--if the doctor hasn't +talked him to death." + +"Mother, do you think he would like to have me come up and see him?" + +"Like it?" said Mrs. Derrick, her mind almost refusing to consider such +an absurd question. "I'm sure he likes to see you when he's well, +Faith. Didn't he like it last night?" + +Faith looked a little bit grave, then she hastily pushed her brown +moreen and box into a somewhat more orderly state of disorganization, +and went up stairs, with a quick light step that was not heard before +her tap at Mr. Linden's door. And then receiving permission she went +in, a little rosy this time at venturing into the charmed region when +its occupant was there; and came with her step a little lighter, a +little slower, up to the side of the couch and held out her hand; +saying her soft "How do you do, Mr. Linden?" + +He was lying just as the doctor had left him, with the unopened +letters, and the white paper which Faith felt instinctively was her own +exercise. But eye and hand were ready for her. + +"Courageous Miss Faith!" he said with a smile. "And so, 'She's gentle +and not fearful'?" + +She smiled, with an eye that took wistful note of him. + +"How do you feel to-day, Mr. Linden?" + +"Not very well--and not worse. Miss Faith, do you know that we have a +great deal to do this week? You may lock up your stocking basket." + +"Please let me do something for you, Mr. Linden?" she said earnestly. + +"That's just what I'm talking about. Do you think, Miss Faith, that if +you brought that low chair here, and set the door wide open so that you +could run out if you got frightened at my grim appearance, you would be +willing to philosophize a little?" + +"Not to-day, Mr. Linden," said Faith. "Don't speak so! I haven't any +stocking basket in the way. Can't I do _something_ that would do you +some good?" + +"It would do me a great deal of good to get up and set that chair for +you, but that is something I must ask you to do for me. I see you want +coaxing"--he added, looking at her. "Well--if you will do half a dozen +things for me this morning, you shall have the reward of a letter and +two messages." + +Faith looked down doubtful,--doubtful, whether to do what would please +herself, and him, would be just right to-day; but the pleading of the +affirmative side of the question was too strong. She gave up +considering the prudential side of the measure, thinking that perhaps +Mr. Linden knew his own feelings best; and once decided, let pleasure +have its full flow. With hardly a shade upon the glad readiness of her +movements, she placed the chair and brought the book, and sat docile +down, though keeping a jealous watch for any sign of pain or weariness +that should warn her to stop. And from one thing to another he led her +on, talking less than usual, perhaps, himself, but giving her none the +less good a lesson. And the signs she sought for could not be found. +Weary he was not, mentally, and physical nature knew its place. Last of +all, the little exercise was opened and commented upon and praised--and +she praised through it, though very delicately. + +"Have I tired you?" he said, as the town clock struck an hour past the +mid-day. + +"Oh no!--And you, Mr. Linden?" + +In what a different tone the two parts of her speech were spoken. + +"I have not hurt myself," he said smiling. "Perhaps by and by, this +afternoon, you will let me see you again. Dr. Harrison threatens to +keep me at home for two or three weeks, and I want to make the most of +them,--I may not have such a time of leisure again." And then Mr. +Linden gave the doctor's message--a message, very strictly, and as near +as possible in the doctor's own words, receiving as little tinge as it +well could from the medium through which it passed. + +"The other message," he said, giving her a letter, "you will find +there." + +"A message?"--said Faith doubtfully and flushing with pleasure--"isn't +this one of your sister's letters?" + +"Yes. Mayn't she send you a message?" + +A very modest and very happy smile and deepening blush answered that; +and she ran away with a sudden compunctious remembrance of Mr. Linden's +dinner. + +After dinner Faith had something to do in the kitchen, and something to +do in other parts of the house, and then she would have read the letter +before all things else; but then came in a string of company--one after +the other, everybody wanting the news and much more than could be +given. So it was a succession of flourishing expectations cut down and +blasted; and both Faith and her mother grew tired of the exercise of +cutting down and blasting, and Faith remembered with dismay that the +afternoon was wearing and Mr. Linden had wished to see her again. She +seized her chance and escaped at last, between the adieu of one lady +and the accost of another who was even then coming up from the gate, +and knocked at Mr. Linden's door again just as Mrs. Derrick was taking +her minister's wife into the parlour. Her first move this time on +coming in, was to brush up the hearth and put the fire in proper order +for burning well; then she faced round before the couch and stood in a +sort of pleasant expectation, as waiting for orders. + +"You are a bright little visiter!" Mr. Linden said, holding out his +hand to her. "You float in as softly and alight as gently as one of +these crimson leaves through my window. Did anybody ever tell you the +real reason why women are like angels?" + +"I didn't know they were," said Faith laughing, and with something more +of approximation to a crimson leaf. + +"'They are all ministering spirits,'" he said looking at her. "But you +must be content with that, Miss Faith, and not make your visits angelic +in any other sense. What do you suppose I have been considering this +afternoon?--while you have been spoiling the last Pattaquasset story by +confessing that I am alive?" + +"Did you hear them coming in?" said Faith. "I didn't know when they +were going to let me get away.--What have you been considering, Mr. +Linden?" + +"The wide-spread presence and work of beauty. You see what a shock you +gave my nervous system yesterday. Will you please to sit down, Miss +Faith?" + +Faith sat down, clearly in a puzzle; from which she expected to be +somehow fetched out. + +"What do you suppose is beauty's work in the world?--I don't mean any +particular Beauty." + +Faith looked at the crimson leaves on the floor--for the window was +open though the fire was burning; then at the fair sky outside, seen +beyond and through some other crimson leaves yet hanging on the large +maple there,--then coming back to the face before her, she smiled and +said, + +"I don't know--except to make people happy, Mr. Linden." + +"That is one part of its use, certainly. But take the thousands of +wilderness flowers, and the thousands of deep sea shells; look at the +carvings on the scale of a fish, which no human eye can see without a +glass, or those other exquisite patterns traced upon the roots and +stems of some of the fossil pines, which were hid in the solid rock +before there was a human eye to see. What is _their_ use?" + +To the wilderness and to the deep sea, Faith's thought and almost her +eye went, and she took some time to consider the subject. + +"I suppose--" she said thoughtfully--"I don't know, Mr. Linden." + +"Did you ever consider those words which close the account of the +Creation--'God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very +good'." + +"That is what I was going to say!" she said modestly but with +brightening colour,--"that perhaps he made all those things, those you +spoke of, for _himself?_" + +"For himself--to satisfy the perfectness of his own character. And +think how different the divine and the human standards of perfection! +Not the outward fair colour and proportion merely, not the perfect +fitness and adaptation, not the most utilitarian employment of every +grain of dust, so that nothing is lost,--not even the grandest scale of +working, is enough; but the dust on the moth's wing must be plumage, +and the white chalk cliffs must be made of minute shells, each one of +which shines like spun silver or is figured like cut glass. Not more +steadily do astronomers discover new worlds, than the microscope +reveals some new perfection of detail and finish in our own." + +Faith listened, during this speech, like one literally seeing 'into +space,' as far as an embodied spirit can, for the first time. Then with +a smile, a little sorrowful, she brought up with, + +"I don't know anything of all that, Mr. Linden! Do you mean that chalk +is really made of little shells?" + +"Yes, really--and blue mould is like a miniature forest. You will know +about it"--he said with a smile. "But do you see how this touches the +standard of moral perfection?--how it explains that other word, 'Be ye +also perfect'." + +Faith had not seen before, but she did now; for in her face the answer +flashed most eloquently. She was silent. + +"That is the sort of perfection we are promised," Mr. Linden went on +presently,--"that is the sort of perfection we shall see. Now, both +glass and eye are imperfect,--specked, and flawed, and short-sighted; +and can but faintly discern 'the balancings of the clouds, the wondrous +works of him that is perfect in knowledge.' But then!-- + + 'When sin no more obstructs our sight, + When sorrow pains our hearts no more, + How shall we view the Prince of Light, + And all his works of grace explore! + What heights and depths of love divine + Will then through endless ages shine!'" + + +The words moved her probably, for she sat with her face turned a little +away so that its play or its gravity were scarce so well revealed. Not +very long however. The silence lasted time enough to let her thoughts +come back to the subject never very far from them. + +"You are tired, Mr. Linden." + +"By what chain of reasoning, Miss Faith?" + +"I know by the sound of your voice. And you eat nothing to-day. Do you +like cocoa, Mr. Linden?" she added eagerly. + +He smiled a little and answered yes. + +"Then I shall bring you some!" + +Faith stayed for no answer to that remark, but ran off. Half an hour +good had passed away, but very few minutes more, when her soft tap was +heard at the door again and herself entered, accompanied with the cup +of cocoa and a plate of dainty tiny strips of toast. + +"Aunt Dilly left some here," she said as she presented the cup,--"and +she says it is good; and she shewed me how to make it. Aunt Dilly has +lived all her life with a brother who has lived a great part of _his_ +life with a French wife--so Aunt Dilly has learned some of her +ways--and this is one of them." + +But Mr. Linden looked as if he thought 'the way' belonged emphatically +to somebody else. + +"And so I am under the rule of the blue ribbands still!" he said as he +raised himself up to do honour to the cup of cocoa. "Miss Faith, do you +know you are subjecting yourself to the penalty of extra lessons?" + +"How, Mr. Linden?" + +"Don't you know that is one of the punishments for bad conduct? It's a +great act of insubordination to bring one cocoa without leave." + +She laughed, and then paid her attentions to the fire again; after +which she stood by the hearth to see the cocoa disposed of, till she +came to take the cup. + +"Are you in pain, much, Mr. Linden?" she asked as she did this. + +"Not mental--" he said with a smile; "and the physical can be borne +Miss Faith, that cocoa was certainly better than I ever had from the +hands of anybody's French wife. You must have improved upon the +receipt." + +"When Dr. Harrison comes for me this evening, shall he come up and see +you again?" + +"If he wishes--there is no need else." + +"How did it happen, Mr. Linden?" she said with a very serious face. + +"On this wise, Miss Faith. I, walking home at a rather quick pace, was +suddenly 'brought to' as the sailors say, by this shot in my arm. But +as for the moment it affected the mind more than the body, I turned and +gave chase,--wishing to enquire who had thus favoured me, and why. But +the mind alone can only carry one a certain distance, and before I had +caught my man I found myself in such danger of fainting that I turned +about again, and made the best of my way to the house of Mr. Simlins. +The rest you know." + +"What did the man run for?" + +"There is no thread in my nature that just answers that question," said +Mr. Linden. "I _suppose_ he ran because he was frightened." + +"But what should have frightened him?" + +"The idea of my displeasure probably," said Mr. Linden smiling. "Have +you forgotten my character for cruelty, Miss Faith?" + +"_But_--" said Faith. "Why should he think he had displeased you? He +wasn't near you, was he?" + +"Why I am not supposed to be one of those amiable people who like to be +shot," said Mr. Linden in the same tone. + +"But how near was he, Mr. Linden?" + +"Within gunshot range, of course--the precise distance is not easily +measured at such a moment." + +"But if he was not near," said Faith, "how could he think that his shot +had touched you? He couldn't see it--and your running wouldn't seem +like a man seriously injured?" + +"He might think I disapproved of discharging a gun at random, in the +public road." + +"You don't suppose it could have been done on purpose, Mr. Linden!" she +said in a changed awe-stricken tone. + +"I have no right to assume anything of the kind--there are all sorts of +so-called accidents. But Miss Faith! if you look so frightened I shall +begin to think you are an accomplice! What do _you_ know about it?" he +added smiling. + +"Nothing--" she said rather sadly, "except a little look of something, +I don't know what, in your face when you said that, Mr. Linden." + +"You must not look grave--nor think twice about the matter in any way," +he said with a sort of kind gravity that met hers. "Is there light +enough for you to read that first chapter of Physical Geography, and +talk to me about it?--it is your turn to talk now." + +"Do you mean, aloud?--or to myself, Mr. Linden?" she asked a little +timidly, + +"I mean, to me." + +Faith did not object, though her colour rose very visibly. She placed +herself to catch the fading light, and read on, talking where it was +absolutely necessary, but sparing and placing her questions so as to +call forth as few words as possible in reply. And becoming engaged in +the interest of the matter she almost forgot her timidity;--not quite, +for every now and then something made it rise to the surface. The +daylight was fading fast, sunlight had already gone, and the wood fire +began to throw its red gleams unchecked; flashing fitfully into the +corners of the room and playing hide and seek with the shadows. A +little rising of the wind and light flutter of the leaves against the +glass, only made the warm room more cheerful. Faith made the fire burn +brightly, and finished the chapter by that, with the glow of the +flickering flame dancing all over her and her book in the corner where +she sat. But pages of pleasure as well as of prettiness, all those +pages were. + +"Thank you, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said as she closed the book. "I +only wish I could give you a walk now in this bright evening air; but I +must wait for that." + +A little tap at the door came at this point to take its place in the +conversation. It was Mrs. Derrick. + +"Child," said the good lady, "here's Dr. Harrison down stairs." And +stepping into the room, Mrs. Derrick walked softly up to the couch, and +not only made enquiries but felt of Mr. Linden's hand to see if he had +any fever. Faith waited, standing a little behind the couch head. + +"I'm not quite sure--" she said,--"your hand's a little warm, sir--but +then it's apt to be towards night,--and maybe mine's a little cool. If +you could only go to sleep, it would do you so much good!" + +And Mr. Linden laughingly promised to try, but would not guarantee the +success thereof. + +Faith went down stairs, a little afraid that she had been doing harm +instead of good, and at the same time not seeing very well how she +could have helped it. She found Dr. Harrison in the sitting-room, and +gave her quiet reasons for not going out with him. The doctor declared +"he should be in despair--but that he had hope!" and having made Faith +confess that she would like to see his microscope, gently suggested the +claims of the next two evenings; saying that he must be in Quilipeak +for a day or two soon himself, and therefore was not impatient without +reason. Faith did not know how to get off, and gave the doctor to +understand that she might be disengaged the next night. Having which +comfort he went up to see Mr. Linden. Then followed Mr. Linden's tea, +with cresses and grapes which Dr. Harrison had brought himself. + +"Mother," said Faith, when the two ladies were seated at their own +tea-table,--"did Dr. Harrison dress Mr. Linden's arm again to-night?" + +"Yes child--and I guess it was good he did. I think Mr. Linden was +almost asleep when I went up." + +"Do you know how to do it, mother? if it was wanted when the doctor is +not here?" + +"I don't know--" said Mrs. Derrick thoughtfully,--"no, child, I _don't_ +know how--at least not so I'd like to try. Do you, Faith?" + +"No, mother--but could you learn?" + +"Why--I suppose I could, child," said her mother, as if she disliked to +admit even so much. "But I'd about as lieve have my own arm shot +off--I'm so dreadfully afraid of hurting people, Faith--and I always +was afraid of _him_. Why can't the doctor do it? he can come six times +a day if he's wanted--I guess he don't do much else." + +Faith said no more on the subject, but hurried through her tea and sat +down by the lamp in the sitting-room to read her letter. A minute or +two she sat thinking, deeply, with her cheek on her hand; then +dismissing everything else she opened the precious paper at last. + +It was another Italy letter, but took her a very different journey from +the last. A little graver perhaps than that, a little more longing in +the wish to use eyesight instead of pen and ink; and as if absence was +telling more and more upon the writer. Yet all this was rather in the +tone than the wording--_that_ was kept in hand. But it was midway in +some bright description, that the message to Faith broke forth. + +"Tell Miss Faith," she said, "that I would rather have seen her +roasting clams down at 'the shore,' than anything I have seen since I +heard of it,--which is none the less true, that I should have wanted to +stand both sides of the window at once. And tell her if you can (though +I don't believe even _you_ can, John Endy) how much I love her for +taking such care of one of my precious things. I feel as if all my love +was very powerless just now! However--you remember that comforting old +ballad-- + + 'Where there is no space + For the glow-worm to lye; + Where there is no space + For receipt of a fly; + Where the midge dares not venture, + Lest herself fast she lay; + If love come he will enter, + And soon find out his way!' + +So, Miss Faith, you may expect to see me appear some time in the shape +of a midge!--Endecott will tell you I am not much better than that now." + +So far Faith got in reading the letter, and it was a long while before +she got any further; that message to herself she went over again and +again. It was incomprehensible, it was like one of Mr. Linden's own +puzzles for that. It was so strange, and at the same time it was such a +beautiful thing, that Mr. Linden's sister should have heard of _her_ +and in such fashion as to make her wish to send a message! Faith's head +stooped lower and lower over the paper, from her mother and the lamp. +It was such a beautiful message too--the gracious and graceful wording +of it Faith felt in every syllable; and the lines of the old ballad +were some of the prettiest she had ever seen. But that Faith should +have _love_ sent her from Italy--and from that person in Italy of all +others!--that Mr. Linden's sister should wish to see _her_ and threaten +to do it in the shape of a midge!--and what ever _could_ Mr. Linden +have told her to excite the wish? And what of this lady's precious +things had Faith taken care of?--'such care' of! "Mother!"--Faith began +once by way of taking counsel, but thought better of it, and went on +pondering by herself. One thing was undoubted--this message in this +letter was a matter of great pleasure and honour! as Faith felt it in +the bottom of her heart; but in the midst of it all, she hardly knew +whence, came a little twinge of something like pain. She felt it--yes, +she felt it, even in the midst of the message; but if Faith herself +could not trace it out, of course it can be expected of nobody else. + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + + +Phil Davids, taking his morning walk through the pleasant roads of +Pattaquasset, engaged in his out-of-school amusements of hunting cats +and frightening children, was suddenly arrested in the midst of an +alarming face ('got up' for the benefit of Robbie Waters) by the +approach of Sam Stoutenburgh. In general this young gentleman let Phil +alone, 'severely,' but on the present occasion he stopped and laid hold +of his shoulder. + +"Phil Davids! I've a warrant against you." + +"Hands off, Sam! and let a man alone, will you! What do you mean by +that?" said Phil gruffly. + +"Yes--I'll let him alone--when I find him, if he's like you," said Sam +with great coolness and some little contempt. "But if you're tired of +your own face, Phil, why don't you make up a handsome one, while you're +about it? Keep out of his way, Robbie! can't you?" + +"Guess you don't know what folks says o' yourn! Do you?" said Phil, +wriggling his shoulder from under Sam's hand, "_I_ do!" + +"I guess I know as much as is good for me," replied the undaunted Sam. +"But that's none of your business just now. Mr. Linden wants to see +you, Phil--and it aint often anybody does that, so you'd better make +the most of the chance." With which pleasing sentiment, Sam released +Phil, and taking a sharp run after Robbie. Waters enticed him into a +long confidential conversation about his new Sunday school teacher. In +the midst of which Phil's voice came again. + +"'Twon't hurt you Sam--jest listen once. They say, Sam Stoutenburgh +would have been a Lady apple, if he hadn't grown to be such a Swar, and +all the while _he_ thinks he's a Seek-no-further. That's what folks +says. How d'ye like it?" + +"Firstrate!" said Sam--"glad I missed the Lady apples, anyhow,--and as +for 'tother, never thought myself one yet--don't like 'em well enough. +When you get through paying me compliments, Phil Davids, you'd better +go and see Mr. Linden." + +"Guess I will!" said Phil swaggering off,--"when I want to see him; and +that aint to-day, by a long jump." + +"He said you were to come--" Sam called after him. "If I wasn't a +Stoutenburgh sweeting, Phil Davids, I'd teach you to talk of him so! If +I only was!--" Sam added sotto voce, "wouldn't I pack myself up in a +basket! Robbie, what sort of flowers did Miss Faith have in her +bonnet?" At which interesting point the two turned a corner out of +Phil's sight. + +But Phil pursued his way; decently regardless of threats or +invitations, and having a wholesome opinion of his own that in holiday +time Mr. Linden had nothing to say to him. In no possible time had he +anything to say to Mr. Linden that he could help. So it happened, that +coming in soon after Mr. Linden had dismissed his breakfast, Faith +found Mr. Linden alone. She brought to his side a basket of very +fine-looking pears. + +"Mr. Davids has sent you these, Mr. Linden." + +"He is very kind," said Mr. Linden. "That is more than I asked for. He +hasn't sent Phil in the basket too, has he?--as the easiest way of +getting him here." + +Faith rather startled, and passing over that asked Mr. Linden how he +did. Which point, having learned all he wanted upon the other, Mr. +Linden was also ready for. Faith then leaving the basket by the couch +side, went to the fire and hearth, and put them more thoroughly to +rights than Cindy's delicacy of touch, or of eye, had enabled her to +do; and going on round the room, care fully performed the same service +for everything in it generally. This work however was suddenly stopped +in the midst, and coming to the head of the couch, rather behind Mr. +Linden, Faith spoke in a low and ill-assured tone. + +"Mr. Linden--will you let me be by this morning when Dr. Harrison +dresses your arm?" + +There was a moment's silence, and then raising himself up and turning a +little so as to see her, Mr. Linden answered, gravely though smiling, + +"No, Miss Faith!" + +She coloured very much and drew back. + +"I asked--" she said presently, speaking with a good deal of +difficulty,--"because he spoke of being away--and then there would be +no one to do it--and mother is afraid--" + +And there Faith stopped, more abashed than anybody had ever seen her in +her life before. He held out his hand, and took hers, and held it fast. + +"I know--" he said,--"you need not tell me. When is the doctor going +away?" + +"I don't know," she said almost under breath--"he said perhaps--or I +thought--I understood him to mean in a few days." + +"Miss Faith!"--and the tone was half expostulating, half scolding, half +caressing. "Come here and sit down by me," he said, gently drawing her +round to the low chair at his side, "I want to talk to you. Do you need +to be told why I said no?" + +She sat down, but sunk her head a little and put up her other hand to +shield the side of her face which was next him. The answer did not come +at once--when it did, it was a low spoken "no." Her hand was held +closer, but except that and the moved change of his voice, Mr. Linden +took no notice of her fear. + +"I would not let Pet do it--" he said gently, "if I could help it. My +child, do you know what a disagreeable business it is? I could trust +you for not fainting at the time, but I should ill like to hear of your +fainting afterwards. And then if you chanced to hurt me--which the +doctor often does--you would be unhappy for the rest of the day,--which +the doctor by no means is. That is all--I would a great deal rather +have your hands about me than his, but a thing that would give you pain +would give me very doubtful relief. I had rather go with my arm +undressed." + +He had gone on talking--partly to give her time to recover; but the +silent look that was bent upon that shielded face was a little anxious. + +She dropped the hand that shielded it presently, and shewed it flushed +and wistful, yet with a tiny bit of smile beginning to work at the +corners of the mouth. + +"Then Mr. Linden," she said almost in the same tone and without turning +her face,--"if you have no _other_ objection--please let me come!" + +"But that one is strong enough. You may send Cinderella up to take a +lesson." + +"You said that was all?" she repeated. + +"That is the only real objection--I would not raise even that in a case +of greater need. But I suppose unskilful hands could hardly do me much +mischief now. So if you will send Cinderella," he added with a smile, +"she may enlarge her world of ideas a little." + +"Mr. Linden,"--said Faith looking at him now fearlessly--"I am going to +come myself." + +"You are!" he said, looking at her--and then his eyes went from her to +the fire, and back again to her face. "Then if you faint away, Miss +Faith, and I jump up to take care of you (which I shall certainly do) I +may faint myself--at which stage of the proceedings Dr. Harrison will +have his hands full." + +"I shall not faint--before nor after," she said, shaking her head. + +"I should not like to count too much upon your unfeeling disposition," +said Mr. Linden, in whose face different currents of thought seemed to +meet and mingle. "And then you see, my senses may be guilty of as great +a breach of politeness as the warder in a German story I was reading +yesterday." + +"What was that?" + +"It fell out," said Mr. Linden, "that a lady of surpassing beauty +arrived at a certain castle; and next day, the lord of the castle +brought before her his warder, bound in chains for a great breach of +politeness; he having failed to give his lord notice of the lady's +approach! The warder thus defended himself: he had indeed seen the +lady, but his dazzled eyes mistook her for another sun! So," added Mr. +Linden smiling, "if my eyes should mistake you for a sunbeam or a maple +leaf, I might forget myself, and not keep my patience so perfectly as I +ought under the hands of such a chirurgeon." + +"What is going to try your patience, Mr. Linden?--I?"--said Faith, now +indubitably in a puzzle. + +"Do you really want to do this for me?" he said in a different tone, +looking at her with that same grave, kind look which she had seen +before. + +"I think I can--and I should like to do it, Mr. Linden, if you are +perfectly willing," Faith answered. + +"I am willing, since you wish it,--and now you must get the doctor's +leave--or rather I must get it for you; but in the mean time, Miss +Faith, we may go on with some of our studies, if you are at leisure." + +Faith went to get the books, but returned without them and with a +disturbed face. + +"Mr. Linden, one of the boys wishes to see you." + +"I suppose it never was heard that a boy came at the right time," said +Mr. Linden. "Well Miss Faith--I believe I must see him--will you write +another exercise for me? Here is your pen and paper--I will try not to +be hindered long." + +Faith mutely took the pen and paper, and went out with a divided mind, +for the boy whom she let in, Cindy being nowhere visible, was Phil +Davids. Phil had thought better of his determination, and wisely +judging that if Mr. Linden wanted to see him he probably would +accomplish the measure some time, concluded the shortest way was to see +him as smoothly as possible. So in he walked and made his bow, grumly +civil, but civil. + +Mr. Linden's opening remark, after he had given the boy his hand (which +even he liked to touch) was at least peculiar. + +"Phil--do you know what a smart boy you are?" + +And the answer was a strictly true, though blundering, "No, sir." + +"I don't know _how_ smart you could be, myself," said Mr. Linden, "but +I know you are very smart now. You always make me think of the man who +found a bag of jewels lying in the road and didn't know what they were." + +It occurred to Phil's mind that not to know jewels when they were seen +was a doubtful proof of smartness; so he answered with a somewhat +surly, "How, sir?" + +"This man," Mr. Linden went on, "instead of having his jewels set in +gold, to wear or to sell, went round the town flinging them at his +neighbour's windows--or his neighbour's cats,--as you do, Phil, with +your very bright powers of head and tongue. Why don't you make a man of +yourself--and use those powers for something worth while?" + +"You never see me doin' it, sir!" said Phil, answering the most +interesting part of Mr. Linden's address. + +"Don't I?" said Mr. Linden,--"I see and hear a good many things. But +nobody can get on in the world after such a prickly fashion,--why even +a porcupine smooths himself down before he tries to go ahead. If you +were to be a lawyer Phil, you'd fight your clients instead of helping +them fight,--and if you were a farmer, you'd be like the man who burnt +up three stacks of his hay because the fourth got wet." + +Phil reddened, though he couldn't help smiling, and was evidently +getting angry. + +"That 'ere farmer was a big fool!" he said. + +"Yes, we are agreed upon that point," said Mr. Linden,--"I daresay he +would have said so himself next day. Well Phil--this was not what I +wanted to talk to you about to-day--much as I like to see smart boys +make the most of themselves. I want to know exactly what it was that +you heard Reuben Taylor say about Miss Derrick." + +Phil's eyes opened unmistakeably. + +"I never heerd him say nothing about her!" he said boldly. + +"Then why did you say you did?" said Mr. Linden, with the cool face of +one who knows his ground. + +"I didn't!" said Phil. "I'm blessed if I did." + +"No you are not--" said Mr. Linden gravely,--"people are never blessed +who do not speak truth. And you have shut both doors by which such a +blessing might have come in this case, Phil." + +"Who said I ever said so, sir?" Phil asked confidently. + +"You told Dr. Harrison, for one," said Mr. Linden. + +"I never spoke a word to Dr. Harrison--" Phil began and checked +himself. "I never said anything but the truth, sir!" + +"What truth did you say to him?" said Mr. Linden. "I wish you would do +the same for me. The roughest truth, Phil, is pleasanter to ray ears +than the smoothest falsehood." + +"I said nothin' but what _was_ truth, sir," said Phil, perplexedly, as +if he felt caught in a snare. "I didn't think you meant _that_." + +"That is precisely what I meant." + +"'Twarn't nothing but the truth, sir." + +"Well--" said Mr. Linden,--"I never was afraid of the truth yet, and I +don't mean to begin now. You didn't say I had cut your ears off, did +you Phil?" + +"I didn't say nothin' about you, sir, good or indifferent." + +"That's something," said Mr. Linden with unmoved gravity. "What else +did you say?" + +"It was down to Neanticut, sir," said Phil--"I told Reuben Taylor as +how he'd druv her down, Joe Deacon said he had; and Reuben said Joe had +made a mistake. That's the hull of it, sir." + +"Who is _her?_" said Mr. Linden. + +"She--Miss Faith Derrick, sir." + +Phil was getting very uncomfortably red in the face. + +"Well why did you tell Miss Derrick that Reuben didn't drive her +down?--would not she have been likely to know." + +"I didn't, sir." + +"I thought not. What _did_ you tell her?" + +"She knows what I told her!"--said Phil, looking abstractedly at the +corner of the couch on which Mr. Linden lay.--"I don't know as I can +recollect. But that's what Reuben said, sir." + +"Well tell me as near as you can recollect--" said Mr. Linden. "And +also just the words you used to Reuben." + +Phil took time to reflect. + +"I don't want ter," he said. + +"No, I see you don't--but I want to hear them," said Mr. Linden very +quietly. "But tell me the truth _this_ time, Phil." + +"Folks has a right to speak," said Phil, stating a broad +proposition,--"but they hain't a right to tell all they say!" + +"Well?"--said Mr. Linden, waiving that. + +"'Twarn't nothin'!" said Phil--"and it 'll just make folks mad--and I +durstn't--" + +"Dare not repeat what you have dared to say? how is that, Phil? But my +forgiveness always meets confession half way, as you know," said Mr. +Linden. + +"Well," said Phil, "I jest told Reuben he'd druv her down, and Reuben +said Joe was mistaken. It was Joe said it first," + +"And what did you say before Dr. Harrison?" + +"I said what Reuben said,"--said Phil feeling poorly. + +"And what was that?"--Mr. Linden was as untireable as a minority juror. + +"I said Reuben said she warn't what Joe said," Phil got out at last in +a lowered tone. + +"And what was _that?_" + +"Well--" said Phil desperately--"Joe said she was--" + +Mr. Linden waited. So did Phil. + +"This is the house that Jack built," Mr. Linden remarked. "What did Joe +say she was?" + +The answer came in articulation pretty well smothered up. + +"Joe said she was Mr. Linden's sweetheart." + +"O!--" said Mr. Linden, with a tone Phil felt to the tips of his +ears,--"that was it! I really did not know, Phil, that you and Joe took +an interest in such matters. Have you had much experience?" + +Phil shuffled and looked exceedingly embarrassed, but words found none. +He had exhausted his stock, of more than words. + +"Well!" said Mr. Linden,--"you will find, Phil, that it is generally +safe to study arithmetic before you begin algebra. There's a little +mistake here. Reuben did not drive _anybody_ down to Neanticut--Mrs. +Derrick drove the whole way. That explains his words. As for yours, +Phil--I wish," said Mr. Linden, looking at him gravely, but gently too, +"I wish I knew something you would like very much to have. Can you tell +me?" + +If ever in his life Phil Davids mentally stared, (physically, too) he +did it now. 'Something he would like very much to have'? What could Mr. +Linden want to know _that_ for? In his confusion Phil didn't know +himself. To take in Mr. Linden, all over, was all he was competent to. + +"Well?" said his teacher with a smile--it was rather a faint one, for +he was tired, but very pleasant still. "What is there, Phil?--I am in +earnest." + +"I'm sorry I said it, anyhow!" burst at last from the boy's reluctant +lips. That seemed to be his ultimatum. He could see that his words gave +pleasure, though they were not directly answered. + +"I must send you away now," Mr. Linden said, taking his hand again. "I +am not strong enough to talk any more. But Phil--if you will learn to +speak the truth--so that at the end of six months you can truly say, 'I +hate every false way'--I will give you then what you like,--you shall +choose your own reward. I would give anything I have in the world if I +could make you fear to displease God by telling a falsehood, as much as +you fear to displease me by owning it!" + +It was as much as Phil could do, to take his teacher's hand, and that +was done more humbly than certainly any previous action of his life. +Speak he could not; but so far as Mr. Linden's influence and authority +were concerned _that_ boy was conquered. Whatever he became in after +times, and whatever his mates found him still,--and they were not +open-mouthed in praise,--for his teacher that boy was a different boy. + +On his way out of the house he chanced to pass Faith, and did so +without a sign of recognition, giving her about as wide a berth as if +she had been a ghost. At the door he met Dr. Harrison coming in; but +the doctor perhaps did not recognize him. Once clear, Phil ran for it. +And at the stair-foot the doctor found Faith. + +"Dr. Harrison," she said with grave simpleness, "if you will allow me, +I should like to see you dress Mr. Linden's arm. If you go to Quilipeak +there will be nobody to do it,--and I think I can learn. Mother is +afraid, and it would be very disagreeable to her." + +"And not to you?" said the doctor. + +"Not so disagreeable. I think I can do it," she answered, meeting his +look steadily. + +"You must not!" said he. "_You_ were not made for such things. Could do +it! I don't doubt you could do anything. But if I go, I will send Dr. +Limbre in my place. There is no need for _you_ to do disagreeable work. +Now it's pleasant to me!" + +"Dr. Limbre I shouldn't like to have come into the house," said Faith. +"And you know he can't leave his own house now--he is sick. I will go +up with you, if you please." + +Dr. Harrison could but follow her, as she tripped up the stairs before +him; but there is no reasonable doubt he would have sent her on some +other errand if he could. Faith tapped at the door, and they entered +the room together. + +"How do you do?" said Dr. Harrison rather gravely, approaching the +couch. + +Now the fact was, that those two previous interviews had been both long +and exciting; and the consequent prostration was greater than usual; so +though Mr. Linden did take down the hand which covered his eyes, and +did meet the doctor's look with his accustomed pleasantness, his words +were few. Indeed he had rather the air of one whose mind has chosen a +good opportunity to ride rampant over the prostrate flesh and blood, +and who has about given up all attempts to hold the bridle. Whether Dr. +Harrison perceived as much, or whether there might be some other +reason, his words were also few. He addressed himself seriously to work. + +"Will you permit me to introduce an apprentice?" he said, in a more +commonplace way than was usual for him, as he was removing Mr. Linden's +wrapper from the arm. Faith had come quietly up to the head of the +couch and was standing there. + +"Is not that the doctor's prerogative?" + +"Hum--" said the doctor doubtfully; but he did not explain himself +further. + +Faith had come close to the head of the couch, but stood a little back, +so that Mr. Linden could not see whether she looked like fainting or +not. There were no signs of that, for the lessening of colour in her +cheeks, which was decided, kept company with a very clear and intent +eye. One little caught breath he might hear, when the wounded arm was +first laid bare; but not another. The doctor heard it too, for he +looked up, but Faith was gravely and quietly busy with what she had +come there to see; giving it precisely the same simplicity of attention +that she brought to her physical geography or her French exercise; and +that was entire. She did not shrink; she rather pressed forward and +bent near, to acquaint herself perfectly with what was done; and once +or twice asked a question as to the reason or the use of something. Dr. +Harrison glanced up at her the first time--it might have been with +incipient impatience--or irony,--but if either, it disappeared. He +answered her questions straightforward and sensibly, giving her, and +with admirable precision, exactly the information she desired, and even +more than absolutely that. For everything else, the work went on in +silence. When the doctor however was standing at the table a moment, +preparing his lint or something else, and Faith had followed him there +and stood watching; he said to her over the table in a sotto voce +aside--but with a sharp glance-- + +"Was the information true, that we received the other night?--under the +lanterns?" + +"What a singular question!" said Mr. Linden from his couch. + +"Pourquoi?" said the doctor as simply as if the original words had been +addressed to Mr. Linden himself. "Well, it may be a singular question, +for it was singular information. Was it well-founded, Miss Derrick?" + +"No--at a venture," said Mr. Linden, with just the sort of air with +which a sick person puts in his word and assumes superior knowledge. + +The doctor looked at one and at the other; Mr. Linden's face told him +nothing, any more than his words; Faith, by this time, was covered with +confusion. That at least it might be visible to only one person, she +moved back to her former place. + +"Were you behind us?" said the doctor;--"or were you French enough to +come by invisibly?" + +"Is that the last new method?" said Mr. Linden. "You have been in Paris +since I was." + +"Never got so far as that though, I am sorry to say," said the doctor +coming back to the couch. "But after all, that was very vague +information--it didn't tell one much--only I have a personal interest +in the subject. But I am glad you spoke--the man that can tell the +dream should be able to give the interpretation. What did it mean, +Linden?" + +"Behold a man of an enquiring turn of mind!" said Mr. Linden with the +same half listless half amused air. "He asks for truth, and when that +tarries demands interpretation." + +"I don't know what sort of a man I behold!" said the doctor, moving his +eyes with a double expression for an instant from Mr. Linden's arm to +his face. + +"I should think you were a German student in pursuit of the 'Idea'!" +said Mr. Linden taking a quiet survey of the doctor's face. "Have you +completed the circle, or is there still hope the Idea may seize you?" + +"The idea seized me a good while ago," said the doctor, with a most +comical mock confessional look. + +"Well then," said Mr. Linden in a sort of confidential tone, "what is +your opinion upon the great German question--whether it is better to be +One and Somewhat, or to be Nought and All? + +"You see,"--said the doctor, standing back and suspending +operations,--"_everybody_ can't be One and Somewhat!" + +"Then you choose the comprehensive side--" said Mr. Linden. "That is +without doubt the most difficult,--the One and Somewhat is called +egotistical, but to be Nought and All!--one must be--what do you +suppose?" + +"A philanthropist, I should suppose!" the doctor answered, with a +change of expression _not_ agreeable. And returning to his work, for +awhile he behaved unusually like other people; not hurrying his work, +but doing it with a grave steady attention to that and nothing +else--answering Faith, and saying no more. Perhaps however he thought +silence might be carried too far; or else had an unsatisfied mood upon +him; for as he was finishing what he had to do, he looked up again to +Faith and remarked, + +"What do you think of this for our quiet town, Miss Derrick? Has Mr. +Linden any enemies in Pattaquasset--that you know?" + +It was merciless in the doctor; for through all this time she had been +in a state of confusion--as he knew--that made speech undesirable, +though she had spoken. And she didn't answer him now, except by a +quickly withdrawn glance. + +"Who do you suppose loves him well enough," pursued the doctor, "to +send a charge of duck shot into him like that?" + +A sudden little cry of pain, driven back before it was well begun, was +heard and but just heard, from Faith. The doctor looked up. + +"I was afraid this--Are you faint?" he said gently. + +"No sir,--" she answered; and she stood still as before, though the +overspread colour which had held its ground for a good while past, had +given way now and fluttered pain fully. But the doctor's words brought +Mr. Linden, for the first time since his accident--to a perfectly erect +position on the couch--with a total disregard of where his arm went, or +what became of its bandages. + +"What are you about!" + +"I declare, I don't know!" said Dr. Harrison, standing back. "I +_thought_ I was just disposing of you comfortably for the day--but I am +open to conviction!" + +The left hand let go its grasp of the couch--taken so suddenly, and for +which the wounded arm took swift vengeance; and Mr. Linden laid himself +down on the cushions again, the colour leaving his cheeks as fast as it +had come. + +"What's the matter, Linden?" said the doctor with rather a kind look of +concern. "You have hurt yourself." + +Faith left the room. + +"I fear I have disarranged some of your work." + +The doctor examined and set to rights. + +"I'll see how you do this evening. What ailed you to pitch into me like +that, Linden?" + +"I think the 'pitching in' came upon me," he answered pleasantly. + +"It seems so, indeed. I hope you won't try this kind of thing again. I +am sure you won't to-day." + +And so the doctor went. A quarter of an hour or a little more had gone +by, when the light knock came at Mr. Linden's door that he had +certainly learned to know by this time; and Faith came in, bearing a +cup of cocoa. The troubled look had not entirely left her face, nor the +changeful colour; but she was not thinking of herself. + +"I knew you were tired, Mr. Linden--Would you like this--or some +grapes--or wine--better?" + +The most prominent idea in Mr. Linden's mind just then, was that he had +already had what he did not like; but that had no place in the look +which answered her, as he raised himself a little (and but a little) to +take the cup from her hand. + +"Pet would thank you better than I can now, Miss Faith." + +She stood looking down at him, with a little sorrowing touch about the +lines of her mouth. + +"Do you know how much better two cups of cocoa are than one?" said Mr. +Linden. + +"I don't know how you can have two at once, Mr. Linden." + +"Then I will bestow one upon you--and wait while you get it." + +"I am well--" she said, looking amused through her gravity, and shaking +her head. "And besides, I couldn't take it, Mr. Linden." And to put an +end to that subject, Faith had recourse to the never failing wood fire; +and from thence went round the room finishing what she had failed to do +in the morning; coming back at the point of time to take Mr. Linden's +cup. He looked at her a little as he gave it back. + +"You are too tired to go over all those lessons to-day--which do you +like best? will you bring it?" + +"I am not tired at all," she said with some flitting colour,--"but +_you_ are, Mr. Linden. Won't you rest--sleep--till after dinner--and +then, if you like, let me come?" + +"I will let you come then--and stay now," he said smiling. + +"Let me stay and be silent then--or do something that will not tire +you. Please, Mr. Linden!" + +"Your line of action lies all within that last bound," he said gently. +"But you may read French if you will--or write it and let me look over +you,--or another geographical chapter. Neither need make me talk much." + +The hint about looking over her writing startled Faith amazingly, but +perhaps for that very reason she took it as the delicate expression of +a wish. That would be a trial, but then too it would call for the least +exertion on the part of her teacher. Faith was brave, if she was +fearful, and too really humble to have false shame; and after an +instant's doubt and hesitation, she said, though she felt it to her +fingers' ends, + +"My exercise is all ready--it only wants to be copied--but how could +you look over me, Mr. Linden?" + +"Could you do such an inconvenient thing as to use that small atlas for +a table? and bring it here by me--I am not quite fit to sit up just +now." + +Faith said no more words, but went for her exercise and sat down to +write it, as desired, under an observing and she knew a critical eye. +It was well her business engrossed her very completely; for she was in +an extremely puzzled and disturbed state of mind. Dr. Harrison's words +about the occasion of Mr. Linden's accident, carelessly run on, had at +last unwittingly given her the clue her own innocent spirit might have +waited long for; and grief and pain would have almost overcome her, but +for a conflicting feeling of another kind raised by the preceding +colloquy between the two gentlemen. Faith was in a state of profound +uncertainty, whether Mr. Linden's words had meant anything or nothing. +They were spoken so that they might have meant nothing--but then Phil +Davids had just been with him--what for?--and whatever Mr. Linden's +words might have meant, Faith's knowledge of him made her instinctively +know, through all the talk, that they had been spoken for the sake of +warding off something disagreeable from _her_--not for himself. She +tried as far as she could to dismiss the question from her +thoughts--she could not decide it--and to go on her modest way just as +if it had not been raised; and she did; but for all that her face was a +study as she sat there writing. For amid all her abstraction in her +work, the thought of the _possibility_ that Mr. Linden might have known +what he was talking about, would send a tingling flush up into her +cheeks; and sometimes again the thoughts of pain that had been at work +would bring upon her lip almost one of those sorrowful curves which are +so lovely and so pure on the lip of a little child--and rarely seen +except there. All this was only by the way; it did not hinder the most +careful attention to what she was about, nor the steadiest working of +her quite unsteady fingers, which she knew were very likely to move +_not_ according to rule. + +For a little while she was suffered to go on without interruption, +other than an occasional word about the French part of her exercise; +but presently Mr. Linden's hand began to come now and then with a +modifying touch upon her pen and fingers. At first this was done with a +gentle "forgive me!" or, "if you please, Miss Faith,"--after that +without words, though the manner always expressed them; and once or +twice, towards the very end of the lesson, he told her that such a +letter was too German--or too sophisticated; and shewed her a more +Saxon way. Which admonitions he helped her, as well as he could, to +bear, by a quietness which was really as kind, as it seemed oblivious +of all that had disturbed or could disturb her. And the words of praise +and encouragement were spoken with their usual pleasure-taking and +pleasure-giving effect. All this after a time effectually distracted +Faith from all other thoughts whatever. When it was done, she sat a +moment looking down at the paper, then looked up and gave him a very +frank and humble "Thank you, Mr. Linden!" from face and lips both. + +If Faith liked approbation--that clover-honey to a woman's taste, so +far beyond the sickly sweets of flattery and admiration--she might have +been satisfied with the grave look of Mr. Linden's eyes at her then. + +"You are a brave little child!" he said. "I wish I could do something +to give you a great deal of pleasure!" + +"Pleasure!"--said Faith, and what was very rare with her, not only her +face flushed but her eyes, so that she turned them away,--"why it is +all pleasure to me, Mr. Linden!"--'Such pleasure as I never had +before,'--she was near saying, but she did not say. + +"Well I must not let you tire yourself," he said with a smile, "for +that would not be pleasant to me. Have you been out to-day?" + +"No," said Faith, thinking of her brown moreen. + +"Nor yesterday--that will not do, Miss Faith. I am afraid I must give +you up to the open air for a good part of this afternoon." + +"What shall I do there?" said Faith smiling. + +"Let the wind take you a walk--I wish I could be of the party. But the +wind is good company, Miss Faith, and talks better than many +people,--and the walk you want." + +"So I want to finish my wood-box," said Faith, looking at the corner of +the fireplace. "And I should think you would be tired of seeing the +wood lie there, Mr. Linden. I am. I have got to go out this evening +too--" she said with a little hesitation,--"to see that microscope." + +Mr. Linden was silent a moment. + +"The microscope does make some difference," he said,--"as for the +wood-box, Miss Faith, I don't think I can permit it to have any voice +in the matter,--you may leave it for me to finish. But if you are going +up there this evening--there are two or three things I should like to +talk to you about first." + +"Then shall I come by and by?" she said. "I must do something else +before dinner." + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + + +"Well child!" said Mrs. Derrick as they took their seats at the +dinner-table, "what _have_ you been about all day? I've just spent the +morning looking over those apples, so I've had no chance to look you +up. How's Mr. Linden? does the doctor think he's getting better?" + +"He is, I hope, mother; the doctor didn't say anything about it." And a +little shudder ran over Faith's shoulders, which she was glad her +mother could make nothing of if she saw. "I have been as busy as you +have, mother--so I couldn't look _you_ up--nor my wood-box either." + +"Learning all the world!" said her mother smiling, though there was a +little touch of regretfulness not quite kept down. "I think I'd rather +sit and look at you, child, than eat my dinner. What are you going to +do this after noon?" + +"I've got a little ironing to do after dinner, mother, and something to +make for tea--and Mr. Linden wants to see me for something. I'll get +ready for Judge Harrison's, and then after I am through up stairs I'll +come down and see to you and my box together. I wish you were going +with me, mother." + +And Faith leaned her head on her hand. + +"Don't you want to go, pretty child?" said Mrs. Derrick fondly. + +"No, mother--but I couldn't help it. I found I should have to go sooner +or later." + +"I'd go with you in a minute," said her mother, "if it wasn't for Mr. +Linden. I don't care a pin whether they want me or not, Faith, if _you_ +do. And I dare say some of the boys will be here"--Mrs. Derrick looked +perplexed, as at the feeling of some unknown possibility. "Shall I, +pretty child?" she said with an anxious face,--"what are you thinking +of, child?" + +Faith came behind her and put both arms round her and kissed first one +side of her face and then the other. + +"Mother!" she said with those silvery tones,--"I don't want anything! I +suppose I shall like to see the microscope--but I'd rather stay at home +and learn my lessons. Don't look _so!_"--Which with another kiss upon +her lips, finished off Mrs. Derrick's anxiety. + +The ironing and the 'something for tea' Faith despatched with extra +diligence and speed, and then dressed herself for the evening. It was +not much extra dressing; only a dark stuff dress a little finer than +ordinary; the white ruffle round the neck and wrists was the same. And +then, giving a few minutes to the seeking of some added help to +quietness, for Faith's mind had been strangely disturbed, she went +again to Mr. Linden's room. A gentle vision she was, if ever one was +seen, when she entered it. + +"You say I mustn't thank you, Mr. Linden," she said giving him back his +sister's letter;--"but--will you thank her for me?" + +"I don't think she deserves many thanks," he said with a smile, "but I +will tell her." + +The course of study that afternoon was peculiar, and eminently a +_talk_. Mr. Linden called for none of the usual books at first, but +began by giving Faith a very particular account of the whole process of +circulation; thence diverging right and left, in the most erratic +manner as it seemed to her,--passing from the bright crystal points in +chymistry to the blue mould on a piece of bread, and then explaining to +her the peculiar mechanism of a fly's eye. Two or three times he sent +her to the cupboard for some book to shew her an illustration of the +subject, but if there was any connecting link that she could see +between one and another, it was simply the wonderful minute perfection +of the world. And she needed none--for the different things were +touched upon so clearly and yet with such a happy absence of needless +details, that they stood forth in full relief, and set off each other. +The daylight was already failing, and the red firelight was playing +hide and seek with the shadows in Mr. Linden's room, before he gave her +a chance to think what time it was. When she saw it, Faith started up. + +"I told mother I would come and see her before I went!"--she said, +drawing a long breath like a person in an atmosphere he can't get +enough of. Then with a little change of tone, after standing a minute +looking at the fire, she went on.--"All _I_ can do, is to drive the +nails into that wood-box--but I'll do it before to-morrow." She held +out her hand as she spoke. + +"No you must not," Mr. Linden said, as he took the hand. "To-night you +will be out, and you must not give me a late breakfast, Miss +Faith!--therefore you must go to bed as soon as you come home, and +leave the box to _me_." + +Faith ran away and did not go to her hammering just then. She brought a +low bench to her mother's feet, sat down there; and taking Mrs. +Derrick's hands from whatever they were about, wrapped both arms round +herself, laying her head on her mother's lap. + +"Mother," she said caressingly,--"I couldn't come down before. I was so +busy and so interested, I didn't in the least know what time it was; +and I hadn't a chance to think." + +"I'm sure I'm glad, pretty child," said her mother, bending down to +kiss her. "I think sometimes you think too much. But you look just like +a baby, for all that. I'm sure I shall always love Mr. Linden for +pleasing you so much," said Mrs. Derrick stroking Faith's hair, "even +though he does please himself too." + +Faith secured that hand again and held them both wrapped round her; but +further words for a moment spoke not. + +"I shall come home as early as I can," she said;--"mother, time enough +to do everything for breakfast." + +"You sha'n't do a thing, child," said her mother. "You may come home as +early as you like, but I'm going to keep you out of the works. I feel +so grand when you're up stairs studying--you can't think! You wouldn't +know me, Faith." + +Faith laughed, the laugh that was music to Mrs. Derrick's ears, and +indeed would have been to any, and held the hands closer. + +"I feel a little grand too,"--she said,--"sometimes in a way--" + +This did not seem to be one of the times, or else feeling grand had a +soporific effect; for Faith's eyelids presently drooped, and when Dr. +Harrison came to the house and for some time before, she was fast +asleep on her mother's lap. + +"Psyche!"--exclaimed Dr. Harrison as he discerned by the firelight the +state of the case. Mrs. Derrick gave him a little reproving glance for +speaking so loud, but other reply made none, save a low-spoken polite +offer of a chair. + +"Thank you--I am going up to see Mr. Linden. Miss Derrick was so good +as to promise she would go with me to see my sister this evening. In +these circumstances,"--said Dr. Harrison in his softest voice--"do you +think it would be presumption to wake her up?" + +"Well go up, then," said Mrs. Derrick, "and I'll wake her up before you +come down." + +Which arrangement took effect; and in a very few minutes thereafter, +Dr. Harrison's horse making much better speed than old Crab could do +now, Faith was deposited safely at Judge Harrison's door. There she was +received with open arms and great exultation by Miss Sophy and with +great cordiality and pleasure by the Judge; and with a certain more +uncertain amount of both by Mrs. Somers, whom Faith found there, the +only addition to the family party; while the doctor stood complacently +on the rug, in silence surveying everybody, like a man who has gained +his point. + +"Well Julius," said Mrs. Somers, "how's Mr. Linden to-night? did you +see him?" + +"Yes ma'am--I saw him." + +"Well how is he?" repeated Mrs. Somers. + +"He is--very happily situated," said the doctor. "I should like to be +in his place." + +"What do you go there twice a day for? Do you think him worse? You +began with going once," said Mrs. Somers. + +"Always begin gently," said Dr. Harrison. "You get on faster." + +"How soon do you expect to take up your abode there altogether, at that +rate?" + +"At what rate, aunt Ellen? You are too fast for me." + +"Nonsense!" said Mrs. Somers, "do you suppose I want to be told what +you go there for?--what I _do_ want to know, is whether he's like to +get well, and how soon." + +"He will be conquering Pattaquasset in a few weeks," said the doctor. + +"I wonder whether he'll conquer Phil Davids," said Mrs. Somers. "I +should like to see that done. Julius, did you ever find out anything +about the man that fired the shot?" + +"Really, aunt Ellen, I am not a detective"--said the doctor carelessly, +looking at Faith, who kept as quiet as a dormouse. "If it had been my +business I suppose I should have found out." + +"I think I heard you opine that Mr. Linden knew"--said Mrs. Somers. +"And I think somebody ought to find out--unless you want the thing done +over again. Don't you think so, Judge Harrison?" + +"Well my dear," said the Judge, "I understand Mr. Linden to have been +actuated by a very benevolent motive--I understand his feelings. He +wouldn't run the risk of accusing a man unjustly--I can't blame him. +It's right, I think, though it's provoking. What do you think, Miss +Faith?" + +Faith lifted her eyes, but perhaps the doctor saw in her changing cheek +some token of the pain he had stirred in the morning. He prevented her +reply. + +"Ladies don't think about these things, my dear sir!--Aunt Ellen is so +sharp she gets ahead of her sex. Let me have the honour of suggesting a +pleasanter subject of meditation. I have seen to-night, aunt Ellen, the +most exquisite and valuable jewelry I have ever seen in my life!" + +"Here in Pattaquasset!" said his sister. + +"In Pattaquasset--or perhaps in the world." + +"Don't excite yourself, Sophy," said Mrs. Somers,--"let's hear what +they were, first." + +Faith, like everybody else, looked for the doctor's answer, though she +hardly knew what she was looking at. + +"A lady, aunt Ellen," the doctor went on, glancing at her,--"had made a +necklace of her mother's arms,--and a cross, more precious than +diamonds, of her mother's hands; and clasping this cross to her breast, +adorned with this most exquisite and rare adornment, had--gone to +sleep!" + +"And for once," said Mrs. Somers, "you preferred the wearer to the +jewels and--went into a trance! I can imagine you!" + +"I? not I!"--said the doctor--"I went up stairs. But you have no idea +of the effect." + +Faith had been experiencing some of the scattering fire of society, +which hits no one knows where and no one knows when. First the name of +Phil Davids had ploughed up the ground at her right; then the question +about the man who had fired the shot had ploughed up the ground at her +left; and shaken first by one and then by the other she had welcomed +the doctor's change of subject and now was smiling as pleased as +anybody. + +"I didn't suppose the trance was a long one," said Mrs. Somers, with a +little raising of her eyebrows. "Faith, my dear, what have you done to +that little Seacomb child? I can't get over my astonishment at his +transformation." + +"I am afraid there isn't much transformation yet," Faith said. "He +listens very quietly and behaves well in school--but I don't know how +he is at home." + +"You are not a school teacher _too?_" said the doctor. + +"It isn't a bad trade," said Faith, though her cheeks had answered for +her another way. + +"Not a bad trade--certainly--but one may have too many trades. Aunt +Ellen--I had the honour--do you believe it? of giving Miss Derrick +lessons this morning." + +"I think she was very good to permit it," said Mrs. Somers composedly. + +"She was very good"--said the doctor demurely. "I am afraid that is her +character generally!" + +He was called off by his father, and Miss Harrison seized Faith and +planted her between herself and Mrs. Somers on the sofa. + +"Don't mind his nonsense, Faith! Julius never can talk like anybody +else. Why haven't you been here this age?" + +"I've been busy, Sophy." + +"Why wouldn't you go to ride with us? Julius wouldn't go after what you +said. Why wouldn't you?" + +"It was Sunday, Sophy." + +"Well--what if it was?" + +"Sunday isn't my day--I can't use it for my own work." + +"But taking a little ride isn't work?" + +Faith hesitated. + +"Isn't it work to the horses, Sophy? And if it is only pleasure--Sunday +has its own pleasures, dear Sophy,--I can't have both." + +"Why can't you?" + +"Because,--if I take these, God will not give me those," Faith said +very gravely. + +"But Faith!"--said Miss Harrison looking disturbed,--"you didn't use to +be so religious?" + +Faith's face flushed a little and was touchingly humble as she said, +"No--I didn't." + +"What's changed you so?" + +"It isn't a bad change, dear Sophy!" + +"I don't believe anything's bad about you," said Miss Harrison kissing +her,--"but don't change too far, dear; don't forget your old friends." + +"I want them to change too," said Faith looking at her winningly. + +"That's right Faith, stand by your colours!" said Mrs. Somers, with a +tone and manner that came quite from the other side of her character. +"Sophy--your mother wouldn't know her child, to hear you ask such +questions." + +Miss Harrison looked troubled, and left the room. Dr. Harrison +immediately took her place, and almost as immediately tea came in. + +That is to say, tea and chocolate were handed round, together with a +sufficient abundance and variety of delicate substantials to suit the +air and the style of a country town. Judge Harrison's was the only +house in Pattaquasset where tea was served in this way,--except perhaps +the De Staff's; though there was this difference to be observed,--the +De Staffs never had tea carried round unless when they had company; at +the Harrisons' it was never carried round unless they were alone. + +Dr. Harrison attended politely to his aunt, but he was eyes and hands +for Faith; finding at the same time very agreeable occupation for her +ears. If people could be content with being agreeable! But in the midst +of cold tongue and chocolate the doctor broke out again. + +"After all," said he,--"what about that piece of curious information, +Miss Derrick? You know I was balked this morning and led a Will o' the +wisp chase after the Idea! Is Mr. Linden in the habit of spoiling +people's fun in that manner?" + +Faith said simply she did not know. She did not, but in private she +thought it likely enough. + +"Well, about the question," said the doctor helping her to something at +the same time,--"what was the truth of it, Miss Derrick? You see I am +interested. Was our little informant correct?" + +Now Faith had no mind, even in the dark, or about anything, to set her +'yes' against Mr. Linden's 'no.' Besides, she knew that the doctor had +heard no names, and what ever might be the extent of Mr. Linden's +knowledge, _he_ knew nothing. And she was very willing to take the +shelter of the shield which had been thrown round her. The deep, deep +dye of her cheeks she could not help; but she answered with tolerable +quietness, behind that shield, + +"I hoped you had got enough of the subject this morning." + +The doctor had enough of it now! He changed his ground with all speed, +and for the rest of the evening Dr. Harrison shewed himself at his best. + +So soon as the removal of tea things gave him a clear field, he brought +out his microscope; and from that instant Faith almost forgot and +forgave him everything. She forgot everything present--the Judge, +Sophy, and Mrs. Somers; and came to the table so soon as the bright +brass of the little machine caught her eye. The machine alone was a +wonder and beauty; it seemed to Faith like an elegant little brass gun +mounted on the most complicate and exquisite of gun carriages--with its +multiplication of wheels and screws and pins, by which its adjustment +might be regulated to a hair; with its beautiful workmanship and high +finish, and its most marvellous and admirable purpose and adaptation. +Dr. Harrison had never adjusted his microscope with more satisfaction, +perhaps, than with those childish womanly eyes looking on; and neither +he nor _many_ other people ever performed better the subsequent office +of exhibiting it. He troubled Faith now with nothing; his very manner +was changed; and with kindness and sense most delicate, most +thoughtful, most graceful always, gave her all he could give her. + +He was a trifle surprised to find that the amount of that was not more. +There was no lack indeed; he could talk and she could listen +indefinitely--and did;--nevertheless he found some of his channels of +communication stopped off. At the first thing he shewed her, Faith +looked for an instant and then withdrawing her eye from the microscope +and facing him with cheeks absolutely paled with excitement and +feeling, exclaimed rapturously, + +"Oh!--are those the chalk shells?" + +The doctor hadn't counted upon her knowing anything of chalk shells + +"Aunt Ellen--" said he, as he looked to shift or adjust something--"do +you think Miss Derrick has ever lived upon anything worse than roses?" + +"Upon something stronger, I fancy," said Mrs. Somers, a little +surprised in her turn, but well pleased too, for Faith had come nearer +her heart that evening than ever before, and the voyage of discovery +was pleasant. + +"I should certainly think I was in Persia!" said the doctor,--"only the +bulbul knows nothing of scientific discoveries, I fancy." + +But Faith was in no danger of hearing, or caring, if she had +understood; she had gone back to the chalk shells, and back still +further, from them, into the world of those perfections which God had +made _for himself_. A new world, now for the first time actually seen +by her, and for a moment she almost lost her standing in this. Mrs. +Somers watched her, smiling and curious. + +She drew back presently with a long breath, to give the other ladies a +chance; but Miss Harrison had looked all she cared to look, and Mrs. +Somers was not new to the thing. They took a view occasionally, one for +form, the other for real interest; but for the most part Faith found +the exhibition was for her and she and the doctor might have it all +their own way. A long way they made of it; for the doctor found a good +deal of talking to do, and Faith was most ready to hear. He talked well +and gave her a great deal of what she liked, with a renewal every now +and then of his first surprise; for in the midst of some elaborate +explanation he was launching into for her benefit, most innocently and +simply Faith would bring him up with a gentle "Yes, I know,"--not +spoken with the faintest arrogance of knowledge, but merely to prevent +him going into needless detail; and herself too rapt in the delight of +the subject that occupied her to have any heed of the effect of her +words. + +"I have kept the best for the last," said the doctor, when this +exhibition had lasted a much longer time than Faith was aware of;--"I +thought you would like to see the circulation;--and I have sent all +over town for a frog--found one at last, by great happiness." + +"All over town!" said Mrs. Somers,--"do try out of town next time, and +save yourself trouble." + +"Have you got to kill the frog, Julius?" said Miss Harrison with a +disturbed face. + +"I hope not!" said the doctor gravely. "That would rather interfere +with our purposes than otherwise, Sophy.--Aunt Ellen, I never learned +the real extent of 'town' yet--when I was a boy it seemed to me to have +no limits;--and now it seems to me to have no centre. Tell James to +bring in that frog, Sophy." + +Miss Harrison retreated from the frog; but the doctor assured Faith +that he was in very tolerable circumstances, shut up in a little bag; +and that he was only going to be requested to exhibit a small portion +of the skin of his toe, and to hold himself still for that purpose; +which benevolent action the doctor would help him to perform by putting +him in a slight degree of confinement. The holding still was however +apparently beyond the frog's benevolent powers, and it was some little +time before the doctor could persuade him to it. Then Faith saw what +she had never seen nor fully imagined before. + +"O Sophy!--O Mrs. Somers!"--she exclaimed,--"look at this!" + +She stood back with a face of delighted wonder Miss Harrison looked an +instant. + +"It is curious--" she said. "What are those little things, Julius?" + +"You have heard of the 'circulating medium,'" said the doctor. "That is +it." + +Faith evidently had never heard of the 'medium' referred to. Turning to +her, the doctor began a clear full account of the philosophy of what +she saw going on in the frog's foot. But there she met him again. + +"Yes, I know, Dr. Harrison,"--she said with the simple tone of perfect +intelligence. The doctor bit his lip, while Faith stooped over the +microscope and read, and read, what was to be seen there. + +"Faith," whispered Sophy, "it's cruel of me--but I am afraid your +mother will be anxious, and Julius will never let you know--" + +"What time is it?" said Faith starting up. + +"About--half an hour--after eight--" said the doctor. + +"After _ten_, Faith." + +Not another look did Faith give, but for her bonnet, and went home as +fast as the doctor would walk with her. + +Whether Mrs. Derrick was anxious or no, she did not say, but glad she +certainly was to see Faith back. + +"Well child," she said, undoing the wrappers from Faith's head and +neck, "I hope you've had a grand time?" + +"Yes mother, very--only I didn't mean to stay so late. I meant to be +home in good time. I have seen everything, mother!" + +"Everything!" said her mother,--"I guess at that rate I might say I'd +been everywhere." + +"Where have you been, mother? anywhere?" + +"I've been out to tea!" said her mother, with the manner of one who has +a remarkable secret on hand. + +"You have! Where, mother?" + +"Guess"--said Mrs. Derrick smiling at her. "I went up stairs to tea, +Faith!--what do you think of that? What'll you expect to hear of my +doing next?" + +"Oh mother!" said Faith laughing,--"I am glad! That was the best thing +you could have done." + +"It wasn't my doing, though," said Mrs. Derrick. "But when I went up +with Mr. Linden's tea, he asked me if you had gone, and I said yes, and +he said since there was nobody better worth seeing down stairs he +wished I'd come and drink tea with him. So I went, child, and it was +real pleasant too. And I don't know how it was, but I staid there all +the evening,--only I wouldn't let him talk to me, and he just went to +sleep as if I hadn't been there. I think he was very tired, Faith. So +then I felt very comfortable," added Mrs. Derrick smiling, "and I sat +there and watched him till Reuben came a little while ago." + +"Was he tired!" said Faith, the light in her face changing. "He had +been talking to me all the afternoon!--Mother, half the pleasure I had +to-night he gave me, for he was all the afternoon preparing me for it." +She stood looking at the fire reproachfully. + +"Why child," said her mother, "I suppose his arm pains him a good +deal--and that tires one, you know. He didn't talk to you a bit more +than he wanted to, I'll warrant. Why he even talked to _me_ all +tea-time!" said Mrs. Derrick, as if she felt quite proud in consequence. + +"Well mother, we must go to bed _now_, for I must be up very early to +finish that box." + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + + +Very early it was, when Faith's hammer was at work again on the brown +moreen, and short interruption did she give herself from anything that +could be spared, till the box was done. It suited her well when it was +done. The cover was stuffed, old-fashioned brown binding was lapped +over the edges and seams, and fastened off with rows of brass-headed +nails; which made it altogether an odd, handsome, antiquated-looking +piece of furniture. With this, when her morning work was done and her +exercise prepared, Faith went up to Mr. Linden's room; to see it +brought in and placed properly. + +"I shall have to put a stop to this state of things!" he said,--"that +blue ribband will work me mischief yet. Miss Faith, how can you take +advantage of my disabled condition?" + +"Are you better this morning, Mr. Linden?" + +"The time has not quite come yet for me to be much better. But Miss +Faith, if I had known that you _would_ wake yourself up early this +morning, what do you think I should have done?" + +"I can't think, Mr. Linden," she said looking merry. + +"I should have invited you and Mrs Derrick up here to breakfast!--which +I only did not do, because I could not take the extra trouble upon +myself, and because I knew you ought to sleep, till this time." + +Faith shook her head a little, perhaps sorry to have missed the +breakfast; then went off and brushed away the dust and chips left round +the wood-box. Then came and sat down. + +"I saw almost everything, last night, Mr. Linden!" + +"Well before you go off to last night--will you come to-morrow morning? +Now what did you see?" + +The bright smile and flush and sparkle answered the invitation; and +perhaps Faith thought no other answer was needed; for she gave no other. + +"I know now," she said after an instant, "what you were doing all +yesterday afternoon, Mr. Linden!" + +"I know what you were, Miss Faith." + +She smiled innocently and went on, + +"All that just fitted me, as you meant it should, to take the good of +the evening--and I had a great deal," she said gravely. "I saw almost +everything you spoke of--and other things. I saw the chalk shells, Mr. +Linden!--and the circulation in a frog's foot; and different prepared +pieces of skin; and the moth's plumage! and the silver scale-armour of +the _Lepisma_, as Dr. Harrison called it; and more." + +"And with very great delight--as I knew you would. I am very glad!" + +"Yes," said Faith--"I know a little better now how to understand some +things you said the other day. I am very glad I went--only for one +thing.--" + +"What was that?" + +"Dr. Harrison asked such a strange thing of me as we were walking +home--at least it seems to me strange." + +"May my judgment be brought to bear upon it?" Mr. Linden said after a +moment's silence. + +"Yes indeed," said Faith; "that was what I was going to ask. He wants +me to go with him to see a woman, who is dying, he says, and +miserable,--and he wants me to talk to her. He says he does not know +how." And half modestly, half timidly, she added, "Is not that going +out of my way?" + +A quick, peculiar smile on Mr. Linden's face, was succeeded by a very +deep gravity,--once or twice the lips parted, impulsively--then took +their former firm set; and shading his eyes with his hand he looked +into the fire in profound silence. + +Very soberly, but in as absolute repose of face, Faith now and then +looked at him, and meanwhile waited for his thoughts to come to an end. + +"Dr. Harrison said," she remarked after a little while, "that you once +told him he had but half learned his profession." + +"What did you say, Miss Faith? I mean, not to that, but to the +question?" + +"I didn't know what to say!--I didn't want to go at all--I don't know +whether that was wrong or right; but at last I said I would go. Do you +think I was right, Mr. Linden?" + +"Did you promise to go _with him?_" + +"I didn't know any other way to go," said Faith. "I don't know where +the woman lives, and he said I couldn't find it; and old Crab has a +lame foot. Dr. Harrison asked me to go with him. I don't think I should +have minded going alone." + +"Neither should I mind having you," said Mr. Linden, with a look more +doubtful and anxious than Faith had often seen him wear, though it was +not bent upon her. + +"Do you think I said wrong then, Mr. Linden? I did not like to go--but +I thought perhaps I ought." + +"I don't think _you_ did wrong," was the somewhat definite answer. "I +wish I had been alongside of you when the request was made." + +A wish which he had not been the first to know. Faith was silent. + +"You made a fair promise?" he said--"and feel bound by it?" + +"I said I would go,"--she said looking at him with her fair, grave +face. "If you thought it was wrong, or that I was putting myself out of +my way, I would not, Mr. Linden. He asked if he might come for me at +two o'clock, and I said yes." + +"Miss Faith--you must not make such a promise again!" + +She looked at him enquiringly, very soberly, and then her eyes went to +the fire and mused there. Mr. Linden was looking at her then, though +with eyes still shielded. Once indeed the hand came with a soft touch +upon her hair, drawing it back where it had fallen a little; but the +motion was quickly checked. She started, looked round with a little +frank smile and colour, and instantly went back to her musing. + +"I'm afraid I must let you go--" Mr. Linden said presently, smiling a +little too, as if it were no use to be grave any longer. "I'm afraid I +have no right to hinder you. If I had, I would. Some other time I will +tell you part of the wherefore, but the less I say to you before you +go, the better. About that,--" he added in his usual manner,--"I think +we might write another exercise." + +She started up, but paused. + +"Mr. Linden,"--she said timidly, "Dr. Harrison said he would not be +here this morning. Would you like to have me first--it would be only +pleasure to me, if you are not afraid,--do what he does for you?" + +He answered at first rather quick, as if he knew what sort of pleasure +it was. + +"O no!--I can wait,--it cannot signify very much." And then with as +quick a recognition of the real pleasure it would be, after all, Mr. +Linden compounded matters. + +"I am afraid. Miss Faith!--I am naturally timid." + +"What does that mean?" said she coming before him and looking with an +inquisitive smile. "I don't know, Mr. Linden!" + +"Do you expect me to explain such a humiliating confession?" + +"No, certainly.--I thought, perhaps, you wouldn't keep to it, after +all." + +"I am a little afraid for you. What do you suppose I shall do this +afternoon while you are gone?" + +"I don't know--" she said, looking a little wistfully. + +"I shall lie here and study that wood-box. You see I carry out my +principles, Miss Faith--I have not thanked you for it." + +"I don't think you'll study it very long," said Faith,--"there isn't +much in it." + +"Somebody has said," replied Mr. Linden, "that 'in every subject there +is inexhaustible meaning,--the eye sees in it what the eye brings means +of seeing.' You must not limit my power of eyesight." + +"If you wouldn't limit my power of something else?"--she said with +gentle persistency. + +He looked up at her. + +"I will not, Miss Faith--then will you please perform your kind office +at once? It will be a great comfort to me, and I shall be the better +able to do something for you afterwards." And the manner almost made +Faith feel as if the proposition had come from her at first. + +She went about it, not this first time without some trembling of heart, +but with also a spirit that rose above and quite kept down that. She +knew exactly and intelligently what was to be done; it was only the +hands that were unwonted, and therefore she feared unskilful. But there +are things that some women have by nature, and a skilful hand is one of +them; and it was Faith's. Her womanly love and care were enough for all +the rest; she made no mistakes, nor delays; and her soft fingers +inflicted no pain that it was in the power of fingers to spare. A +little longer than the doctor she was perhaps about it; not much, and +not more awkward; and that is saying enough. + +So soon as that was done, Faith went for her exercise, and sat down as +yesterday to write it. + +He too went on with the exercise; but watching her, lest relief might +be wanted in another quarter. There was nothing of that, though. Quiet +and very great satisfaction, was the result of the matter in Faith's +mind; at least it was all she permitted to be seen; and now she gave +herself happily to the connexion of her nouns and adjectives, and to +watching against the 'german' or 'sophisticated' letters in her +handwriting. The exercise indeed was fast taking a very compound +character; so much so, that Faith might well begin to suspect there had +been a two-fold reason for proposing it. But Mr. Linden had a peculiar +way of teaching--especially of teaching her; and made her almost forget +in the pleasure of learning, the fact that she had need to learn. And +as for his memory on the subject, or his perception of how it might +touch her,--they were out of sight: she might have been a little child +there at his side, for the grave simplicity and frankness of his +instructions. And so exercise and reading and philosophy followed on in +a quiet train, and the surface of the earth revealed new wonders, and +the little French book was closed at the end of a pretty chapter. + +"Whenever I get about my duties again, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said, "I +shall make one very stringent rule for our future intercourse." + +"What's that, Mr. Linden?" she said, with the face of quick deep +pleasure she always wore when about any of her studies with him. + +"From the time when I come home to dinner till I go off again, I will +neither speak nor be spoken to, Miss Faith, except in French. That is, +you may speak--but I shall not answer." + +Faith started a little, looked puzzled, and looked terrified,--as much +as she ever did; but rather closed with looking as if it was +_impossible_. + +"I should make the rule at once," said Mr. Linden smiling, "but I +foresee that you would absent yourself entirely. Now when I am down +stairs you will have to see me--whether you want to or not." + +"But I don't know one word!" said Faith breathlessly. "I am afraid I +shall not say, or hear, much, Mr. Linden." + +"O you shall hear a great deal--I will take that upon myself." + +Faith shook her head, gave the fire a final mending, and ran off; for +it was again an hour past the mid-day. Mr. Linden's dinner came up, and +was hardly removed before Dr. Harrison followed. + +"Well, Linden!" he said coming jauntily in,--"I hope you haven't missed +me this morning." + +"Not in the least." + +"I am glad of that. How do you do? I will try and put you in condition +not to miss me this evening--though it is benevolent!"--added the +doctor, pulling off his left glove. "It is a great secret--to make +oneself missed!" + +"It is a secret your gloves will hardly find out, by my fire," said Mr. +Linden. "How well you look, doctor!--not a bit like Nought and All." + +"No,"--said the doctor,--"I believe I disclaimed that particular sphere +of existence yesterday. One had need be One and Somewhat in this +wind--if one will keep a place in a wagon, or elsewhere! But fire +mustn't tempt me, Linden. I'll see to you and be off, and decide what +I'll be afterwards." + +"You may be off without preamble." + +"Do you mean to dismiss me?" exclaimed the doctor raising his eyebrows. +"Have I said that you _must_ accept my poor services?" + +"Why no!" said Mr. Linden,--"doubly no! I am most happy to see you, +doctor." + +"The happiness will be mutual when I have the felicity of understanding +you," said the doctor, settling himself in an attitude. Mr. Linden +surveyed him from head to foot. + +"I perceive indeed that you are One and Somewhat!" he said,--"you still +need 'the four azure chains.' Do you need explanations too?" + +"If you'll be so good!" said the doctor. "Or--ha! you don't mean +_that_, do you?" + +"My arm has been dressed," said Mr. Linden quietly. + +"Never trust a woman!" said the doctor wheeling round. "I thought she +had got enough of that yesterday. Did she do it well?" + +"Excellently well." + +"Your face says so as well as your tongue," said the doctor, with an +odd manner of despair. "I have lost--not my occupation, for I never had +any!--but I have lost my power over you; and she has got it!--I don't +know how to whistle, or I suppose I could take comfort in that." + +Mr. Linden did not whistle, nor laugh, nor speak,--all that could be +said of him was that he lay there very quiet, with his eyes open, +looking remarkably well. + +"Let a woman alone for doing what she has a mind to!" the doctor went +on, in his usual manner now, putting on his gloves. "I tell you what, +Linden--they're the hardest creatures to manage there are;--boys are +nothing to them! Well, good morning!" + +"Good morning,"--said Mr. Linden. "I hope you will be able to manage +the wind." + +The Dr. Harrison who had been up stairs was not at all the Dr. Harrison +that met Faith in the hall and escorted her to the carriage. Grave, +gentle, graceful, but especially grave, for some reason or other, he +was; and not the less for that agreeable, she thought. Faith was in a +sober mood herself; for she was about an undertaking she did not much +like; and which Mr. Linden had liked even less. Faith pondered, as they +drove swiftly along, what the particular objections had been which he +had not chosen to tell her; and now and then thought a little uneasily +of the coming interview with the doctor's patient, with Dr. Harrison +himself for auditor and spectator. She did not like it; but she had +honestly done what she thought right, and Mr. Linden had said _she_ was +not wrong. And she was bound on the expedition, which she could not get +rid of; so though these considerations did float over and over her mind +they did not shake what was nevertheless a very happy peacefulness. +Faith was glad the doctor was pretty well engaged with his horses; and +let her own musings run upon the pleasant things of the morning, and of +yesterday, with glances at the delightful new world of work and +knowledge into which she had entered, or was entering; and happy +resting down on the foundation for all joy so lately known to her. +Whirled along on smooth going wheels, in that bright brisk day, little +interrupted with talk, these thoughts and meditations took fair little +flying passages through her head; chasing and succeeding each other, +put in and put out by the lights and shadows, the hills and fields, sky +and trees and wind-clouds, as the case might be, and mixing up with +them all. + +Dr. Harrison had come for her this time in an easy pleasant-going +curricle, drawn by beautiful animals, and who felt beautifully in that +gay wind. They looked so, certainly, every motion from ears to tail +telling of life and the enjoyment of it. + +"You are not afraid of anything, I know," said Dr. Harrison, one time +when he had been obliged to hold them in with a good deal of +decision;--"or I would have brought the old family trotter for you." + +"What makes you think so, Dr. Harrison?" + +"I have had proof of it," said he looking at her. Faith shook her head +a little, and could have told him several things; but did not. + +"You are not afraid of these fellows?" + +She said no. + +"There is no pleasure in handling what gives you no trouble;--don't you +think so?" + +Faith sought for illustrations of the subject in her own experience; +did not find them. + +"Now look at those fellows," the doctor went on. "They are fit to fly +out of their skins; but a little bit of steel in their mouths--and a +good rein--and a strong hand at the end of it--and they are mine, and +not their own," said he, giving them a powerful check at the same time +which brought them on their haunches;--"and they know it. Now isn't +there some pleasure in this?" + +"It is rather a man's pleasure," said Faith;--"isn't it?" + +"Do you think so?" said the doctor. "Ah, you know better. Do you mean +to say," he added softly, "that a woman doesn't know the pleasure of +power?" + +"I don't think _I_ do," said Faith meeting his eyes with a smile. He +smiled too, a different smile from what was usual with him. + +The drive was long--much longer than Faith had counted upon, although +they went so fast. "Down by the river"--the doctor had said; but it +appeared not yet what part of the river he was aiming for. Still it was +beautiful; the broken country, open and free, with the cloud shadows +and the brilliant sunlight driving across it, and grey sharp rocks +everywhere breaking it, and tufts and reaches of brown or sear woodland +diversifying it, was not easy to weary of. Nor did Faith weary. The +doctor's words had sent her off on a long journey of thought, while she +travelled over all that open, sunlight and shadow, country. Starting +from the words, "Behold we put bits in the horses' mouths, that they +may obey us";--she had gone on to moral government and suasion; the +means and the forces of both, not failing to illustrate largely here +from personal experience; and on and up to the one great and strong +hand that holds the reins of all, and makes even sunlight and shade, +rock and hill, do his work and his bidding. + +But now in all that broad picture of life and life work, appeared a +little dark spot; which, small as it was, formed for the moment the +vanishing point, where every line of beauty and sunlight met and ended. +For with that strange recognizing of unknown things, Faith saw before +her the house where the dying woman lay,--and knew it for that, before +the doctor spoke. A plain, brown, unpainted house; straight and square, +with no break of piazza or window blinds; tapestried on the front with +frost-bitten gourd vines, the yellow and green fruit yet unscathed. The +usual little gate and dooryard common to such country houses; the usual +remains of autumn flowers therein; the usual want of trees. Yet by the +universal law of indemnification, the house was more picturesque than +painting and architecture could have made it. Neighbours it had none, +for contrast; but a low woody point of land stretched off behind it, +reaching out even into the Mong. And the Mong itself--with its cool +sharp glitter in the stirring wind, and the swash of its blue waves at +the very foot of the little paling about the house; its white-sailed +craft, its white-winged sea gulls;-- + + "Our lives are rivers, gliding free + To that unfathomed, boundless sea, + The silent grave! + Thither all earthly pomp and boast + Roll, to be swallowed up and lost + In one dark wave. + + 'Thither the mighty torrents stray, + Thither the brook pursues its way, + And tinkling rill. + There all are equal. Side by side + The poor man and the son of pride + Lie calm and still." + + +Of the two that now entered that little dooryard, one felt all this and +one did not. The one who had felt "the power of an endless life," +perceived the narrow bounds of this,--to the one who had nothing +beyond, its domain was vast. And as is often the case, the man went +first and the angel followed. + +The doctor stepped up to the bedside and made some general enquiries. +But it did not appear that there was much _he_ could do. + +"Mrs. Custers," said he presently, "you know I promised I would bring, +if I could, a lady to see you. Here she is--Miss Derrick." + +Faith came to the side of the bed. Little her quiet face shewed how she +was trembling. In her soft sweet way she asked the sick woman how she +did. And Mrs. Custers turned her head a little, and gazed up into the +blooming face with strange, eager, feverish eyes--eyes that thirsted, +but with no bodily thirst. Then she closed them again and turned her +face away, but said nothing. + +"Have you been sick long?" asked Faith. + +She did not answer, then; though as if the tones of Faith's voice were +making their way, there came presently a slight quiver of the face, and +a bright drop or two that the closed eyelids could not quite keep back. +But she was at that point of time where the fear of man has lost its +power,--where the doctor loses his supremacy and visiters their +interest: where men and things are pushed like shadows into the +background, and the mind can see no object save "the great white +throne." This was what the silence expressed,--it was not dislike, nor +churlishness; but those surface questions failed to reach her where she +stood. The next gentle and tender "What is the matter?"--was so spoken +that it found her even there. Her eyes came back to Faith's face with +the sort of look they had given before. And then she spoke. + +"Where would you be going if you were lying where I be?" + +Faith heeded not the doctor then, nor anything else in the world. She +waited an instant; she had drawn herself up on hearing the question; +then leaning forward again she said slowly, tenderly, + +"I should be going--to be happy with my divine Redeemer. Are not you?" + +"What makes you think you would?" + +"Because I have his word for it," said Faith. "He says that whoever +believes in him shall not perish, and that every one that loves him +shall be with him where he is;--I believe in him and love him with my +whole heart; and I know he is true. He will not cast me away." Slowly, +clearly, the words were spoken; so that they might every one enter and +be received by the ears that heard. + +The woman looked at her,--scanned her, examined her,--looked down +towards the foot of the bed at the doctor--then back at Faith. + +"Do you believe all that?" she said. + +"I know it!"--said Faith, with a tiny bit of joy-speaking smile. + +Again that intent look. + +"Well _he_ don't," she said with a motion towards the doctor. "Which of +ye am _I_ to believe?" + +"Don't believe either of us!" said Faith quickly, her look rather +brightening than otherwise, though the play of her lips took a +complicate character.--"Believe God! Don't you know _his_ words?" + +"I s'pose I do--some of 'em. I can't believe anything with _him_ down +there lookin' at me!" she said impetuously. "He said _he_ didn't +believe--and I keep thinkin' of that." + +"Will you believe him, rather than God?--rather than the Lord Jesus, +who came and gave his very life for us, to bring us to heaven. Do you +think _he_ would tell us anything but truth after that? _His_ words +are, 'He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.'" + +"Well I'm most dead--" said the woman in a sort of cold, hopeless tone. + +"Let Jesus make you live!" said Faith, in a voice as warm and loving. + +"The doctor said _he_ couldn't," she answered in the same tone as +before. "He believes that, anyhow." + +Faith answered, + +"'My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. And I +give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall +any man pluck them out of my hand.'" + +That same little quiver passed over the face, but it changed into an +irrepressible shudder. + +"Sit down here on the bed," she said, looking up at Faith, "and put +your face so I can't see his'n--and then you may talk." + +And with that fair head for a screen, as if it really warded off some +evil influence, Mrs. Custers lay and listened quietly for a while; but +then her hands were clasped over her face, and she broke into a low +sobbing fit--as if mind and body were pouring out their griefs +together. Not loud, not hysterical; but weary, subdued, overpowering; +until the utter exhaustion brought sleep. + +Faith got off the bed then,--looked at her, looked at the doctor,--and +then by an irrepressible feeling, sunk on her knees. Leave _her_, go +out of the house with _him_, she could not, until she had put the cause +of them all into the hand she knew _her_ friend and wished theirs. A +few moments' motionless hiding of her face, during which, as indeed +during the whole conversation, Dr. Harrison was nearly motionless too, +and used his eyes silently; and Faith rose from her knees. She gave +another look at the poor weary face that lay there, and then led the +way out of the house. The doctor followed her, having perhaps got more +than enough of the result of his ride. But as he was unfastening his +horses, or rather after he had done it and was waiting to hand her in, +Faith addressed him. + +"Dr. Harrison, on whose errand do you go telling that woman that God's +word is not true?" + +She spoke gently, yet as the doctor faced her he saw that her soft eye +could be steady as an eagle's. He did not answer. + +"Not for God's service," she went on answering herself,--"nor for +yours. See to it!" + +She turned and let him put her into the carriage and they set off +again. But the drive homewards promised to be as silent as the drive +out had been. The doctor was grave after another fashion now, with a +further-down gravity, and scarce looked at anything but his horses; +except when a glance or a hand came to see if Faith was well wrapped up +from the wind, or to make her so. And either action was done not with +his accustomed grace merely, but with even a more delicate tender care +of her than ordinary. Faith was in little danger of cold for some time. +Grief and loving sorrow were stirred and stirring too deeply for +thought or feeling of anything else; only that beneath and with them +her heart was singing, singing, in notes that seemed to reach her from +the very harps of heaven,-- + + "I thank Thee, uncreated Sun, + That thy bright beams on me have shined!" + + +As they went on, however, and mile after mile was passed over again, +and the afternoon waned, the wind clouds seemed thicker and the wind +more keen; Faith felt it and began to think of home The horses felt it +too, and perhaps also thought of home, for they travelled well. + +"What are you meditating, Miss Derrick?" the doctor said at length, +almost the first word he had spoken. + +"I was thinking, just at that minute, sir, of the use of beauty in the +world." + +"The use of beauty!" said the doctor, looking at her; he would have +been astonished, if the uppermost feeling had not been of relief. "What +is its use? To make the world civilized and habitable, isn't it?" + +"No--" said Faith,--"I should think it was meant to make us good. Look +at the horses, Dr. Harrison!" + +The carriage had turned an angle of the road, which brought the wind +pretty strongly in their faces. The horses seemed to take it as +doubtful fun, or else to be inclined to make too much fun of it. They +were all alive with spirit, rather excited than allayed by their miles +of quick travelling. The doctor tried to quiet them by rein and voice +both. + +"They get a little too much oats for the work they do," said he. "I +must take them out oftener. Take care of this wind, Miss Derrick; I +haven't a hand to help you. What's that?--" + +'That' was a bunch of weeds thrown into the road just before the +horses' heads, from over the fence; and was just enough to give them +the start which they were ready for. They set off instantly at full +run. The road was good and clear; the carriage was light; the wind was +inspiriting, the oats suggestive of mischief. The doctor's boasted rein +and hand with all the aid of steel bits, were powerless to stop them. +In vain he coaxed and called to them; their speed increased every +minute; they had made up their minds to be frightened, and plunged +along accordingly. The doctor spoke once or twice to Faith, encouraging +or advising her; she did not speak nor stir. + +They were just hearing the brow of a hill, when an unlucky boy in the +road, thinking to stay their progress, stepped before them and waved +his hat over his head. Faith heard an execration from the doctor, then +his shout to her, "Don't stir, Miss Derrick!"--and then she hardly knew +anything else. The horses plunged madly down the hill, leaped carriage +and all across a fence at the bottom of it, where the road turned, +overthrew themselves and landed the doctor and Faith on different sides +of the carriage, in a meadow. + +The doctor picked himself up again, entirely unhurt, and going round to +Faith lifted her head from the ground. But she was stunned by the fall, +and for a few minutes remained senseless. + +In these circumstances, no house being near, the doctor naturally +shouted to a cap or hat which he saw passing along the road. Which cap +also it happened belonged to Sam Stoutenburgh, who was on an errand +into the country for his father. + +If ever Dr. Harrison was unceremoniously put aside, it was then. Sam +had come rather leisurely at first--then with a sort of flying bound +which cleared the fence like a thistle down, he bore down upon the +doctor, and taking up Faith as easily as if she had been a kitten, +absolutely ran with her to a spring which welled up through the long +meadow grass a few yards off. There the doctor found him applying the +cold water with both gentleness and skill, for Sam Stoutenburgh had a +mother, and her fingers had been so employed about his own head many a +time. + +"You're a handy fellow!" said the doctor with a mixture of expressions, +as he joined his efforts to Sam's.--"That will do it!"-- + +For Faith opened her eyes. The first word was "Mother!"--then she sat +up and looked round, and then covered her face. + +"Are you hurt?" said Dr. Harrison after an instant. + +"No sir, I think not--I believe not." + +"Can you stand up?" + +With the help of his hand she could do it easily. She stood silent, +supported by him, looking on the prostrate horses and shattered +curricle; then turned her grave eyes on the doctor. + +"Don't stand too long, Miss Faith!" said Sam earnestly, with trembling +lips too, for the manhood in him had not got very far. "Are you _sure_ +you're not hurt?" + +"Sam!" said Faith giving her hand to him.--"I didn't know it was you +who was helping me." + +"I only wish I'd been here for you to fall upon!" said Sam, with a +queer mingling of grief and pleasure. "Seems as if folks couldn't +always be in just the right place." + +"I am not hurt," she said with a little shudder. + +"Now, how are you going to do to get home?" said the doctor looking +much concerned. "Shall I--" + +"I will walk home," she said interrupting him. + +"You are not able! We are three miles, at least, from Mrs. Derrick's +house. You could not bear it." + +"I can walk three miles," she said with a faint, fair smile. "I will go +home with Sam, and you can take care of the horses." + +"That would be a tolerably backhanded arrangement!" said the +doctor.--"Young man, will you bring these horses into town for +me--after I get them on their legs--to Judge Harrison's, or +anywhere?--I must take care of this lady and see her safe." + +"Yes--I'll bring 'em into town," said Sam, "but Miss Faith's to be seen +to first--if they don't get on their legs all night! _That_'ll be a +work of time, I take it. Miss Faith--could you walk just a little +way?--there's a house there, and maybe a wagon." + +"You don't understand me," said the doctor. "I asked if you would do me +the favour to bring my horses into town. _I_ will take care of the +lady." + +Sam considered a minute--not the doctor but things. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "I can run faster than you can walk, beyond all +calculation. If you'll keep warm here, I'll run till I find a +wagon--for if you don't ride and tell the story some one else +will,--and then there's two people will be worse hurt than you are. +You'd get home quickest so." Faith was about to speak but the doctor +prevented her. + +"Then you refuse to take care of my horses?" he said. "I told you I +would take care of the lady." + +"Bother the horses!" said Sam impatiently,--"who's to think about +horses with Miss Faith here frightened to death? I'm ready to drive 'em +all over creation, when I get ready, Dr. Harrison!" + +Faith in her turn interposed. + +"I would rather walk than wait, Dr. Harrison. If Sam knows some house +near by, I would rather walk so far with him than wait for him to go +and come again. We could send some one to help you then. Sam, you'll +help Dr. Harrison get the horses up." + +So much Sam was willing to do, and the doctor with such grace as he +might, accepted; that is, with no grace at all. The horses with some +trouble and difficulty were raised to their feet, and found whole. The +carriage was broken too much to be even drawn into town. Faith then set +out with her escort. + +"How far is your house, Sam?" + +But Sam shook his head at that--the nearest one of any sort was a poor +sort of a place, where they sometimes had a wagon standing and +sometimes didn't. "But we can try, Miss Faith," he said in conclusion. +Sam's arm was a strong one, and certainly if he could have induced his +companion to lean her whole weight on it his satisfaction would have +increased in proportion; as it was he gave her good help. And thus they +had walked on, in the fading afternoon light, more than what to Faith +was "just a little way," when the first house came in sight. + +Fortunately the wagon was at home; and before it stood an old horse +that one of the men said "he should like to see run!"--but for once +such deficiency was the best recommendation. Another man set off on +foot to find and help Dr. Harrison, and the owner of the slow horse +gave the reins to Sam. The wagon was not on springs, and the buffalo +skin was old, and the horse was slow!--beyond a question; but still it +was easier than walking, and even quicker. Sam Stoutenburgh did his +best to make Faith comfortable--levying upon various articles for that +purpose, and drove along with a pleasure which after all can never be +unmixed in this world! Even Sam felt that, for his long-drawn "Oh Miss +Faith!"--said much, and carried Faith's thoughts (she hardly knew why) +to more than one person at home. + +"Sam," said Faith, "I don't want to say anything about this to-night." + +"Well, ma'am--I won't say a word, if I can help it. Do you mean to +_anybody_, Miss Faith?" + +"Not to anybody. I mean, not to any one at home." + +"I won't if I can help it," Sam repeated. "But it's my night to stay +with Mr. Linden." + +"Is it?--Well--what if it is?" + +"I don't know--" said Sam dubiously,--"he has a funny way of reading +people's faces." + +"But what is going to be in yours, Sam?" + +"I don't know that, neither," said Sam. "But the fact is, Miss Faith, +he always _does_ find out things--and if it's anything he's got to do +with you may just as good tell him at once as to fuss round." + +A pretty significant piece of information! Upon which Faith mused. + +It was not so late when they reached Mrs. Derrick's door, that the good +lady's anxiety had got fairly under way. At that moment indeed, she had +quitted the front of the house, and gone to hurry Cindy and the +teakettle; so that Faith was in the house and her escort dismissed, +before Mrs. Derrick appeared. + +"Why pretty child!" she said--"here you are! I was very near getting +worried. And I went up and asked Mr. Linden what time it was, lest the +clock shouldn't be right; but he seemed to think it wasn't worth while +to fret about you yet. You're tired to death!" she added, looking at +Faith. "You're as pale as anything, child!" + +"Yes mother--I'm very tired." + +And very glad to get home, she would have said, but her lips failed it. + +"Well do sit down, child," said her mother, "and I'll take your things +up stairs. Tea's all ready--that'll do you good, and then you shall go +right to bed." + +But that did not seem what Faith was ready to do; instead of that, she +preferred to sit down by her mother, and wrap her arms round her again +and lay her head in her mother's lap. Even then she did not sleep, +though she was by no means inclined to talk and answered Mrs. Derrick's +fond or anxious words with very few in return, low and quiet, or with +quiet caresses. And when her mother was silent, to let her sleep, Faith +was silent too. + +They had sat so motionless for awhile, when Faith changed her posture. +She got up, sat down on a chair by her mother's side, laid her head in +her neck and wrapped arms round _her_ in turn. + +"Mother--" she said most caressingly,--"when will you begin to follow +Christ with me?--I want that, I want that!"-- + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + + +While Dr. Harrison was sleeping off the effects of his exertions, +mental and physical, of the preceding day; and his horses in their +stable realized that the reaping of wild oats has its own fatigues; +Mrs. Derrick was stirring about with even unwonted activity, preparing +for that unwonted breakfast up stairs. An anxious look or two at +Faith's sleeping face had assured her mother that the fatigue there had +been nothing very serious; and Mrs. Derrick went down with a glad heart +to her preparations. There Faith joined her after awhile, and as +breakfast time approached, Mrs. Derrick suggested that Faith should go +up and see that the table was all right, and receive the breakfast +which she herself would send up. Cindy was already there, passing back +and forth, and the door stood open to facilitate her operations. + +If Faith had felt curious as to the success of Sam Stoutenburgh's +efforts at concealment, her curiosity was at once relieved. The room as +she saw it through the half-open door was bright with firelight and +sunshine; the spoons and cups on the little table shone cheerily in the +glow; and all things were in their accustomed pretty order and +disorder. But the couch was empty, and Mr. Linden stood by the +mantelpiece, leaning one arm there, his face bent down and covered with +his hand. + +Faith had no need to knock--the door being open and Cindy in full +possession; but as her light step came near the fire he turned suddenly +and held out his hand to her without a word. Then gently pushing her +back to the corner of the couch, Mr. Linden bade her "sit down and be +quiet--" and he himself took a chair at her side. She could hardly tell +how he looked--the face was so different from any she had ever seen him +wear. + +For a minute she obeyed orders; then she said, though with an eye that +avoided meeting his, + +"I mustn't be quiet, Mr. Linden--I must see to the breakfast table." + +If his first motion was to hinder that, he thought better of it, and +suffered her to go and give her finishing touches; watching her all the +time, as she felt, but without speaking; and when Cindy shut the door +and tramped down stairs, the room was very still. Only the light +crackling of the hickory sticks in the chimney, and those soft +movements about the table. If ever such movements were made with +pleasure--if ever a face of very deep peacefulness hovered over the +placing and displacing of knives and forks, plates and +salt-cellars,--it was then. Yet it was not a very abstracted face, nor +looked as if the _outward_ quiet might be absolutely immovable. The +last touch put to the table, Faith glanced at the hickory sticks on the +fire; but they wanted nothing; and then her look came round to Mr. +Linden, and the smile which could no longer be kept back, came too; a +smile of touching acknowledgment. + +"Miss Faith, will you come and sit down?" + +She came, silently. + +One deep breath she did hear, as Mr. Linden arranged the cushions and +with gentle force made her lean against them, but either he did not +feel himself able to touch directly what they were both thinking of--or +else thought her not able to bear it. His tone was very quiet, the rest +of his hand upon her hair hardly longer than it had been yesterday, as +he said, + +"What will my scholar be fit for to-day?--anything but sleep?" + +For a moment it was a little more than she could bear, and her face for +that moment was entirely grave; then she smiled up at him and answered +in a tone lighter than his had been, + +"Fit for anything--and more fit than ever, Mr. Linden. I only rest here +because you put me here." + +The next remark diverged a little, and was given with darkening eyes. + +"How DARED he take you with those young horses!" + +"He thought he could do just what he pleased with them--" said Faith, +shaking her head a little. + +"And with you--" was in Mr. Linden's mind, but it came not forth. +"Where is your mother?--does she know?" + +"Mother's coming," said Faith raising herself from the cushions,--"as +soon as she sends up the breakfast. She doesn't know yet. I told Sam +not to tell you, Mr. Linden. + +"How do you do to-day?" + +She answered him with a bright fair glance and in a tone as sweet as +happiness could make it, + +"_Very_ well!" + +Mr. Linden's eyes went from her to the opening door and the entering +dishes. + +"Sara was not in fault, Miss Faith,--I heard you come home." + +In the train of the dishes came Mrs. Derrick, and looked with a little +amaze at Mr. Linden off the couch and Faith upon it. But if the first +didn't hurt him, she knew the second wouldn't hurt Faith, with whose +appearance her mother was not yet quite satisfied. And when they were +all at the table, Mrs. Derrick might wonder at those words of very +earnest thanksgiving that they were all brought together again, but +they needed no explanation to any one else. In all her life Faith had +never known just such a breakfast. That sweet sense of being safe--of +being shielded,--of breathing an atmosphere where no evil, mental, +moral, or physical, could reach her,--how precious it was!--after those +hours of fear and sorrow. If her two companions had visibly joined +hands around her, she could not have felt the real fact more strongly. +And another hand was nearer and more precious still to her +apprehension; even the one that made theirs strong and had brought her +within them. Faith's face was a fair picture, for all this was there. +But Faith's words were few. + +How many Mr. Linden's would have been, of choice, cannot be known; for +Mrs. Derrick's mind was so intent upon the last night's expedition, so +eager to know how the poor woman was, and what she said, and where she +lived; and how Faith enjoyed the drive, and what made her get so +tired,--that he had full occupation in warding oil the questions and +turning them another way. In compliance with her wishes he had taken +his usual place on the couch, and there made himself useful both with +word and hand; the particular use of breakfast to him, was not so +apparent. + +It was over not a bit too soon; for Cindy had not finished the work of +removing it before she brought up word that the doctor was come and +wanted to see Mis' Derrick. Faith judged the enquiry was meant for +herself and ran down stairs accordingly. The doctor was satisfied that +she was none the worse of her ride with him, but had brought a very +serious face to the examination. + +"Have you forgiven me, Miss Derrick?" + +"I have nothing to forgive, sir!" Faith told him with a look that gave +sweet assurance of it.--"I am not hurt. I am very glad I went." + +"May I say," said the doctor, and he looked as if he was uneasy till he +had said it,--"that you misjudged me yesterday from that woman's words. +I did not choose to interrupt her--and the severity of your remarks to +me," he said with a little smile which did not want feeling, "took from +me at the moment the power to justify myself. But Miss Derrick, I have +not done what you seemed to suppose--and fairly enough, for _she_ gave +you to understand it. I never set myself to overthrow her belief in +anything. I have hardly held any conversation with her, except what +related to her physical condition; if I have said anything it has been +a word intended to quiet her. I saw her mind was very much disturbed." + +Faith had looked very grave, with eyes cast down, during the hearing of +this speech. She raised them then, at the end, and said with great +gentleness, + +"There is but one way to give quiet that will stand, Dr. Harrison." + +"I am sure you are right," he said looking at her with an unwonted +face, nearer to reverence than Dr. Harrison was often known to give to +anything "I hope you will go and see that poor creature again and undo +any mischief my careless words may have done." + +"Won't you undo them yourself, Dr. Harrison?" + +"I will endorse yours, so well as I can!" he said. "But won't you see +her again?" + +"If I can,--I will try to go." + +"May I see Mr. Linden?" was the next question in a lighter tone; and +receiving permission the doctor moved himself up stairs. He entered Mr. +Linden's room with a quiet, composed air, very different from the +jaunty manner of yesterday; and applied himself with business quiet to +Mr. Linden's state and wants. And the reception he met was not one to +set him a talking. It was not tinged with the various feelings which +the _thought_ of him had stirred in Mr. Linden's mind that night and +morning,--if they lived still it was in the background. The grasp of +his hand was firmer than usual, the tone more earnest, which said, "I +am very glad to see you!"--and yet the doctor felt that in them both +there was more--and also less--than mere personal feeling. + +He had nearly finished the arrangements of Mr. Linden's arm when he +remarked, "Did you hear the result of our expedition yesterday?" + +A grave 'yes,' answered him. + +"You see," said the doctor, "I couldn't manage the wind!" + +But to that there was no reply. + +"It was just that," said the doctor. "Those horses had been taking +whiskey, I believe, instead of oats; and the wind just made them mad. +They ran for pure love of running!--till a little villain threw up his +hat at them--and then indeed it was which could catch the clouds first." + +If the doctor wanted help in his account, he got none. He drew back and +took a survey. + +"What's the matter, Linden?--you look more severe at me this morning +than Miss Derrick does;--and I am sure she has the most reason." + +"I have a prudent fit come over me once in a while," said Mr. Linden +goodhumouredly, but with a little restless change of position. "I'm +afraid if I talk much upon this subject I shall get out of +patience--and I couldn't lay all the blame of that upon you." + +"What blame--do you pretend--to lay upon me, as it is?" said the doctor +not illhumouredly. + +"There'll be no pretence about it--when I lay it on," said Mr. Linden. + +"Enact Macduff--and lay on!" said the doctor smiling. + +"Let it suffice you that I could if I would." + +"The shadows of strokes suffice me!" said the doctor. "Am I a man of +straw? Do you take me for Sir Andrew Aguecheck? 'horribly valiant' +after his fashion. What have I done, man?" He stood, carelessly +handsome an handsomely careless, before the couch, looking down upon +Mr. Linden as if resolved to have something out of him. + +A part of the description applied well to the face he was looking +at--yet after a different fashion; and anything less careless than the +look Mr. Linden bent upon him, could not be imagined. It was a look +wherein again different feelings held each other in check,--the grave +reproof, the sorrowful perception, the quick indignation--Dr. Harrison +might detect them all; and yet more, the wistful desire that he were a +different man. This it was that answered. + +"What have you done, doctor?--you have very nearly given yourself full +proof of those true things which you profess to disbelieve." + +"How do you know that I disbelieve anything?" said the doctor, with a +darkening yet an acute look;--"much more that I _profess_ to +disbelieve?" + +"How do I know whether a ship carries a red or a blue light at her +masthead?" + +"You don't, if she carries no light at all; and I do not remember that +I ever professed myself in your hearing on either side of the 'things' +I suppose you mean." + +"What do you say of a ship that carries no light at all?" + +"Must a ship _always_ hang out her signals, man?" + +"Ay--" said Mr. Linden,--"else she may run down the weaker craft, or be +run down by the stronger." + +"Suppose she don't know, in good truth, what light belongs to her?" + +"It is safe to find out." + +"Who has told you, Linden, that I believed or disbelieved anything?" + +"Yourself." + +"May I ask, if any other testimony has aided your judgment, or come in +aid of it?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden, looking at him with a grave, considering eye. "I +am not much in the habit of discussing such points with third parties." + +The doctor bit his lip; and then smiled. + +"You're a good fellow, Linden. But you see, I can afford to say that +now. I have you at advantage. As long as you lie there, and I am your +attending physician--which latter I assure you I look upon as a piece +of my good fortune--you _can't_, knock me down, if you feel disposed. I +am safe, and can afford to be generous. As to the lights," said the +doctor taking up his hat, "I agree to what you say--and that's more of +a concession than I ever made on the subject before. But in the +atmosphere I have lived in, I do assure you I have not been able to +tell the blue lights from the red!" + +"I believe you," said Mr. Linden,--"nor was it altogether the fault of +the atmosphere. Even where the colour is right, the glass is sometimes +dim. What then?" + +"What then? why the inference is plain. If one can not be distinguished +from the other, one is as good as the other!" + +"And both shine with a steady clear light upon the heavenward way?" + +"There's no question of shining," said the doctor half scornfully, half +impatiently. "If they shew colour at all, it is on a way that is murky +enough, heaven knows!" + +"Then what have they to do with the question?" said Mr. Linden,--"you +are applying rules of action which you would laugh at in any other +case. Does the multitude of quacks disgust you with the science of +medicine?--does the dim burning of a dozen poor candles hinder your +lighting a good one? You have nothing to do with other people's +lights,--let your own shine!" + +Dr. Harrison stood looking at his adviser a minute, with a smile that +was both pleased and acute. + +"Linden"--said he,--"it strikes me that you are out of your vocation." + +"When I heard that account last night,"--Mr. Linden went on--and he +paused, as if the recollection were painful,--"the second thing I +thought of was your own words, that heaven is not in 'your line.'" + +"Well?--" said the doctor swinging his hat and beginning to pace up and +down the room, and speaking as if at once confessing and justifying the +charge laid to him,--"Now and then, I believe, a bodily angel comes +down to the earth and leaves her wings behind her--but that's not +humanity, Linden!" + +"True servant of God, is as fair a name as angel," said Mr. Linden; +"and that is what humanity may be and often is. 'Though crowns are +wanting, and bright pinions folded.'" + +"I don't know--" said the doctor. "I shouldn't have wondered any minute +yesterday to see the pinions unfold before me." Which remark was +received in silence. + +"If such an angel were to take hold of me," the doctor went on +meditatively,--"I believe she might make me and carry me whither she +would. But I wonder if I shall be forbid the house now!"--He stopped +and looked at Mr. Linden with a face of comic enquiry. + +"You may come and see _me_," said Mr. Linden, with comforting assurance. + +"Do you think I may?" said the doctor. He sat down and threw his hat on +the floor.--"What shall I do with Mrs. Derrick? She will want to send +me off in a balloon, on some air journey that will never land me on +earth!--or find some other vanishing medium most prompt and +irrevocable--all as a penalty for my having ventured to leap a fence in +company with her daughter!" + +But the prudent fit had perhaps come back upon Mr. Linden, for except a +sudden illumination of eye and face, the doctor's speech called forth +no opinion. + +"The best driver on earth can't be a centaur, man! Horses in these days +will have heads of their own." But then the doctor rose up and came +gracefully and gravely again to take his friend and patient's hand. + +"I agree to all you say!" said he, looking down with a goodhumoured +wilful expression to Mr. Linden's face;--"and I know no other man to +whom I would own as much, after such words and such _silence_ as you +have bestowed on me. Good-bye. But really, remember, a man is not +answerable for all his horses--or all his wits--may do." + +The doctor went; and then there was an interval of some length. Faith +had found several things to do in her down stairs department, which she +would not leave to her mother; especially after the shock Mrs. +Derrick's mind and heart had received from the communication of what +had happened the day before. So it was a little later than usual when +the light tap was heard at Mr. Linden's door and Faith and a cup of +cocoa came in. She set the cup down, and then went out again for a dish +of grapes and pears--Judge Harrison's and Farmer David's sending--which +she brought to the table. + +"I didn't know which you would like best, Mr. Linden;--so I brought +both." + +"I should like to be waiting on you," he said,--"Miss Faith, you ought +not to be waiting on me. I shall bestir myself and come down stairs." + +There was expression in the kind of happy silence that answered him, as +she offered the cocoa. + +"I don't know where to begin to talk to you this morning," said Mr. +Linden,--"everything demands the first place. Miss Faith, when you feel +that you can, will you tell me all about yesterday? I wish I could give +you this couch again, but I suppose in prudence I ought to lie still." + +She saw him served with what he would have; then sat down, and a shadow +of sweet gravity came over her. + +"The ride out was all very pleasant. There wasn't much talk, and I +could just enjoy everything. It's a long way, Mr. Linden," she said +glancing at him--she spoke generally with her eyes bent somewhere +else;--"it must be ten or twelve miles, for we went very fast; and it +was beautiful, with the wind and the driving clouds and shadows. So I +enjoyed all that part, and wasn't afraid of the horses, or not much +afraid--though they went _very_ fast and I saw they felt very gay. I +liked the going fast and I thought the doctor could manage them." She +paused. + +"Are you sure you want to talk of this now?" Mr. Linden said. "You know +we have other things to do--this can wait till you choose." + +"I like to tell it," she said with another quick glance and a quick +breath,--"but the visit comes next--and I don't know how to tell you of +that. Mr. Linden, I wish you could see that woman!--And if you can't +soon, I must,--somehow." + +"If I can't--or if I can, I will find you the 'somehow,' if you want to +go. And if you will let me," he added. "Is she really dying?" + +"She says so--" Faith said low. And was silent a bit. + +"Then we set out to come home, and all went very well till we were half +way on the road; but then the horses seemed to grow more frisky than +ever--I think the wind excited them; and Dr. Harrison had his hands +full, I could see, to hold them in, especially after we turned +Lamprey's corner and the wind was in their faces. I think it was +something suddenly flung over the fence, that started them off to +run--and then they ran faster and faster, and reins and bits were of no +use at all." + +Faith was excited herself, and spoke slowly and low and with hindered +breath. + +"I saw they were getting more and more furious,--and there were a few +minutes, Mr. Linden, when I thought I should maybe never see home +again.--And then I thanked you in my heart." + +"_Me?_" he said with quick emphasis, and looking at her. + +Faith did not look at him, but after a pause went on very quietly. + +"I mean, on earth I thanked you. The end of it was, they took a new +fright at something, I believe, just at the top of a hill; and after +that it was all a whirl. I hardly knew anything--till I found myself +lying on the ground in the meadow. The horses had jumped the carriage +and all clean over the fence. The fence was just below the foot of the +hill; the road took a turn there.--Sam told you the rest--didn't he, +Mr. Linden?" + +He said "yes," and not another word, but lay there still with those +closely shielded eyes; and lips unbent from their usual repose, with +grave humbleness and grief and joy. The silence lasted till Faith spoke +again. And that was some little space of time. A shade graver and lower +her tone was when she spoke. + +"I shall never forget after this, that it is 'part of a Christian's +sailing-orders to speak every vessel he meets.'--I think I shall never +forget it again." + +Mr. Linden did look then at the little craft that had begun her voyage +so undauntedly under the Christian colours, though what he thought of +her he said not; apparently his own words were not yet ready, though he +spoke. + +"'Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou +dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.'" + +Faith spoke no more. She sat in the absolutest quiet, of face and +figure both; looking into the fire that played in the chimney, with a +fixedness that perhaps told--in the beginning--of some doubtfulness of +self command. But the happy look of the face was in nowise changed. + +A knock at the door was the first interruption, a knock so low down +that the latch seemed quite too high to match it; but by some exercise +of skill this was lifted, and Johnny Fax presented himself. He looked +very wide awake, and smiling, and demure, as was his wont, though +to-day the smiles were in the ascendant; owing perhaps to the weest of +all wee baskets which he held in his hand. Coming close up to Mr. +Linden, and giving him the privileged caress, Johnny stood there within +his arm and smiled benignly upon Faith, as if he considered her quite +part and parcel of the same concern. Who smiled back upon him, and +enquired "where he had come from?" + +Johnny said "From home, ma'am," and looked down at his tiny basket as +if it were a weight on his mind that he did not know how to get rid of. + +"Johnny," said Mr. Linden, "what have you got in that basket?" + +"You couldn't guess!" said Johnny with a very bright face. + +"I couldn't guess!" said Mr. Linden. "Don't you suppose I can do +anything?" + +"Yes--" said Johnny shaking his head,--"but you can't do that." + +"Then I shall not try," said Mr. Linden, "and you'll have to tell me." + +Johnny put his face close down by Mr. Linden, and whispered, but not so +low that Faith could not hear-- + +"It's two white eggs that my black hen laid for you, sir!" + +"Well I never should have guessed that!"--said Mr. Linden smiling. "I +didn't suppose there was a hen in the world that cared so much for me. +I don't believe she would if she was not _your_ hen, Johnny."--Which +last sentence Johnny understood just well enough to feel delighted; and +stood with a glad little face while his teacher opened the basket, and +taking up first one egg and then the other, commented upon their size +and whiteness. + +"As soon as I can get out I shall come and see that hen," said Mr. +Linden, drawing the child closer and giving him another kiss--which +Johnny thought was worth a whole basket of eggs;--"so you must tell her +to have her feathers in good order. Now what have you to say to Miss +Faith?" + +"O _she_ talks to _me_," said Johnny. + +"Does she?" said Mr. Linden,--"is that the division of labour? What +does she talk about, Johnny?--let me see how well you remember." It was +said with a little acknowledging look that he was asking that to which +somebody would demur--but also with a wilful assumption that somebody +would come to no harm. So though Faith flushed and started, she sat +back in her seat again without making any word interposition. Johnny +stood and thought--for he was a real little literalist. + +"She talked about heaven--" he said slowly,--"and how to get +there,--and said she was going--and we must too. That's what she said +Sunday. And at Judge Harrison's she said she was glad I'd got a red +ribband--and down to Neanticut she told me to run away." + +"I'm sure that was a gentle way of dismissing you," said Mr. Linden, +stroking the child's forehead. "Well Johnny--are you trying to follow +her in that way to heaven she told you of?" + +The "yes" was given without hesitation, and came with strangely sweet +effect from those childish lips. Then after a minute Johnny added, as +if he feared some misunderstanding, + +"It's the same way you told me, sir." + +"Yes, I trust you will see me there too," Mr. Linden said, with a +rather moved look at the little face before him. + +What made Faith, at those last words of Johnny's, jump up and spring to +the fire? And after a most elaborate handling of the sticks of wood, +she did not come back to her seat, but stood still with her back turned +to the couch and the little witness who was testifying there. He was +not called upon for any more evidence, however. Mr. Linden talked--or +let him talk--about various important things in Johnny's daily life and +experience and gave a promise that he himself would be at school as +soon as the doctor gave his permission. + +Mrs. Derrick's soft knock and entrance came now, she herself looking in +good truth as if a "tear-storm" had passed over her. But she brightened +up a little at the sight of Faith. + +"Pretty child!" she said, coming up to her, "and so you're here? I +couldn't rest any longer without seeing just where you were." + +Faith put one hand on her shoulder as she stood, and then clasped the +other upon that. + +"Pretty child!" her mother repeated, in a tone that spoke more of pain +than pleasure--and Faith could feel the shudder that passed over her +then. But she controlled herself. "Do you know it's dinner time, Faith? +How is Mr. Linden?" + +"There he is," said Faith smiling. "I don't know, mother." + +"He don't look to me as if he had ever been asleep," said Mrs. +Derrick,--but whether that shewed want of sleep, or the reverse, was, +as Mr. Linden remarked, quite doubtful. + +Mrs. Derrick looked at him, met his smile--then her whole heart +answered to something it said. + +"Oh Mr. Linden! think of her being in such danger!" and there was a +minute of deep silence. + +"Nay!" he answered softly--and the face was beautiful in its changing +expression,--"think of her being so safe!" + +Mrs. Derrick could bear neither word nor look after that. The two +ladies went down together, leaving Johnny to dine with his teacher. + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + + +The dinner up stairs was a very quiet and uninterrupted one. The dinner +down stairs was destined not to be so. + +The first break was the entrance of Cindy with a bunch of +flowers--which the doctor had sent to Miss Derrick, with the desire to +know how she was. Faith received the flowers with a dubious face and +put them in water on the dinner-table, where they looked splendid. Mrs. +Derrick could hardly see their splendour. + +"He needn't think to come round me that way," she said. "Child! I +wouldn't let you go off with him again for twenty kingdoms!" + +"Not with those horses, mother." + +"Nor with any others. I sha'n't ever want to have you go with anybody +again, Faith." + +"What's goin' on here?" said a growling voice which they knew, before +Mr. Simlins entered the door of the dining room. "That gal o' yourn +wants me to stay politely in the parlour yonder--but I ain't +polite--and I come to see you, not your doors and windows nor the +pretty paper on your walls. What are you all about, Mrs. Derrick? I +hear the very spirit of turbidness has got into this house!" + +"There's not much spirit in me to-day," said Mrs. Derrick, "nor spirits +neither. I've lost what little I had. Anybody could knock me down with +a straw. Sit down, Mr. Simlins, and take some dinner." + +"I'm afeard, if it's done so easy, I might occasionally do it with one +o' them posies," said Mr. Simlins standing and surveying the bouquet as +if he didn't know what to make of it. "Do you eat the grass of the +field at your noon-spell?" + +"You may ask Faith," said Mrs. Derrick; "she put 'em there." + +"Sit down, Mr. Simlins," said Faith. + +"I ain't goin' to sit down! I've eat _my_ dinner. I've just come in, +Mrs. Derrick, to see if you're all overturned, or if there's anything +left straight yet." + +"It's _all_ straight," said Faith smiling up at him. "Sit down, Mr. +Simlins." + +"What's the truth of it, Mrs. Derrick? This child ain't all straight, +is she?" + +It followed that, bit by bit, Mr. Simlins got out the story of the +accident, for neither Faith nor Mrs. Derrick was forward to speak about +it. He then enquired, with an unsatisfied grunt, why Faith was "postin' +round with Dr. Harrison?" Whereat Mrs. Derrick felt justly indignant. + +"Why she ain't! Mr. Simlins. She went down there on business, and there +was nobody else at hand to take her just then." + +"What do you call bein' at hand?" said Mr. Simlins. "I've got two +hands, and more'n two horses--that won't run away neither. It's only my +cows do that!--Where's Mr. Linden?" + +"O he's up stairs--" said Mrs. Derrick. "He's not been down yet. Faith, +don't you think he's some stronger to-day?" + +"And so," said Mr. Simlins turning to her again reproachfully,--"while +he's lyin' up there and can't stir, you go drivin' over the country +with 'tother one!" + +But that brought out Faith's round low laugh, so incontrovertibly merry +and musical that it changed Mr. Simlins' face on the instant. It came +to an end almost as soon, but short as it was it was better than the +warble of any nightingale; inasmuch as the music of a good sound human +heart is worth all the birds in creation. + +"When's Mr. Linden going to be down stairs, where a body can get sight +of him?" + +"The doctor says he mustn't go out for a long time yet," said Mrs. +Derrick. "When are you going to find the man that shot him?--that's +what I want to know." + +"When I get a composition from the only witness," Mr Simlins answered. +"And as the witness ain't particular about testifying, I'm afeard it'll +be a spell o' time yet. It'll come out. _I _should think the fellow'd +ha' made tracks, fust thing; but I 'aint heerd of any one's bein' +missin' from town,--except--" + +Mr. Simlins suddenly started, stopped, and gazed at Faith with a most +extraordinary expression. + +"Did you look at my flowers, Mr. Simlins?" said Faith quite quietly, +though without meeting his eye. + +"I've seen nosegays afore," growled Mr. Simlins in a very uninterested +manner. "I don't see as this is no more nor less than a nosegay. Do you +s'pose I might go up and see somebody up stairs for two minutes, +without creating any confusion?" + +Mr. Simlins went up and shortly afterwards went away. But if Faith +anticipated a good long lesson that afternoon, to make up for the +morning and afternoon in which she had had none--albeit the morning had +been better than lessons--she was to be disappointed. Hardly was the +dinner over, and the muffins mixed which she was determined should make +amends for Mr. Linden's poor breakfast, when Miss Harrison came; full +of sorrow, and sympathy, and hope. + +"Faith don't look a bit the worse, ma'am," she said to Mrs. Derrick. + +"She couldn't look anyway but just so," her mother said with a fond +glance. + +"Why she _could_ look pale, but I don't see that she does even +that;--unless, perhaps, just such a _tingy_ paleness as is rather +becoming than otherwise. Dear Mrs. Derrick, I hope you have forgiven +Julius?" + +It was a sorrowful smile that met her words, and eyes that grew dim and +looked away. + +"I suppose I could forgive the whole world--since he didn't do any more +harm," Mrs. Derrick said with her wonted gentleness. "But I wouldn't +see her go with him again, Miss Sophy--if that's what you call +forgiveness." + +"Why not? Dear Mrs. Derrick!"-- + +"Why not?"--said the good lady--"why Faith's used to being taken care +of, Miss Sophy--and I'm used to seeing it." + +"My dear Mrs. Derrick!"--Miss Harrison exclaimed out of breath,--"do +you think she was not taken care of? Julius knows his horses, and he is +a capital hand with them; he says himself he thinks he should have +brought them to, if that little wretch of a boy hadn't thrown op his +nat before their eyes. No horses would stand that, you know. And the +best man in the world, and the best driver, can't be _certain_ of his +horses, Mrs. Derrick. Not take care of her!--" + +"I don't mean to say that he didn't mean to!" said Mrs Derrick quietly, +"but I don't think he knows how. You needn't look so, Miss Sophy--I'm +not saying a word against your brother. But Faith's only part of the +world to him--and she's the whole of it to me. He should have taken +horses he _was_ sure of," said Mrs. Derrick with a little flush on her +cheek. + +"I don't know," said Miss Harrison softly, and looking at Faith,--"I +don't know just what part of the world she is to him--but I think, and +am very sure, he would have thrown himself oat rather than her. Can +anybody do more? Can any _man_ do more, Mrs. Derrick?" she said +smiling. "I know you are her mother; and though I am not her mother, I +think of her just as you do." + +"I can't say what any man can do," said Mrs. Derrick pleasantly,--"I +havent tried many. And you can't tell how I feel, Miss Sophy it isn't +cross, if it sounds so. How long has Dr. Harrison had those horses?" + +"Why, not very long," said Miss Harrison,--"he hasn't been home long +himself. But he's a good judge of horses," she said, a little less sure +of her ground than in the former part of the conversation. Perhaps she +was not sorry to have it interrupted. + +"My dear Mrs. Derrick!" said Mr. Somers entering,--"I have come to +congratulate you! Miss Harrison, I see, is before me in this +pleasant--a--office. Miss Faith!--I am glad to see you looking so well +after your overthrow." Mr. Somers went round shaking hands as he +spoke.--"Mrs. Somers will be here presently to join me--she stopped a +few minutes by the way. Mrs. Somers always has more business on hand +than I can--a--keep up with. Mrs. Derrick, I have rejoiced with you, +indeed, ma'am." + +Somers had managed to keep up with her business and him too, for she +came in before Mr. Somers had well taken the measure of his chair. She +walked up to Faith and kissed her, with a sort of glad energy, gave her +a comprehensive glance from head to foot, and then turned to Mrs. +Derrick with, + +"There's nothing amiss with _her_, after all.--Sophy, what excuses have +you brought in your bag?--it seems to be full." + +"I wish you'd make some for Julius, aunt Ellen--I can see Mrs. Derrick +has only half forgiven him." + +"Has she got so far as that?" said Mrs. Somers. + +"I don't know. Faith, _you_ might come and say something--you know if +it isn't true; and Mrs. Derrick will hear you." + +Faith was busy giving Mrs. Somers a chair, and certainly looked as if +_she_ had nobody to forgive anything in the wide world. + +"What do you want me to say, Sophy?" + +"Why, that Julius wasn't to blame." + +"I find it is still a disputed point, whether a man has a right to +break his own neck," said Mrs. Somers. "I think he hasn't, myself, but +most people don't agree with me. Mr. Somers thinks people may run away +alone or together, just as they've a mind. I don't know whether it's +the fees or the freedom that takes his fancy." + +"I suppose, my dear," said Mr. Somers, "a man may lawfully set out to +take a ride without intending to break his own neck, or anybody else's; +and find it done at the end, without blame to himself. I never was, I +hope, a promoter of--ha!--flighty marriages--to which you seem to +allude." + +"If he finds it done at the end, it isn't done very thoroughly," said +Mrs. Somers. "But Pattaquasset's growing up into a novel--last week +furnished with a hero, and this week with a heroine,--the course of +things can't run smooth now. So we may all look out for breakers--of +horses, I hope, among other things." + +"Oh aunt Ellen!"--was Miss Harrison's not gratified comment on this +speech. + +"I hope Mrs. Somers don't mean that we are to look out for breakers of +hearts, among the other things," said Mr. Somers. + +"Look out for them? to be sure!" said Miss Harrison;--"always and +everywhere. What would the world be without them?" + +"The world would not be heart-broken," said Mrs. Somers. "Faith--which +of you came to first? who picked you up?" + +"I don't know, Mrs. Somers. Sam Stoutenburgh was passing just at the +time and Dr. Harrison called him. I don't know who picked me up." + +"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mrs. Somers,--"well, he's made, if nobody else +is! He'll bless Julius for the rest of his life for giving him such a +chance. Do you know how that boy watches you, Faith?--I mean to speak +to Mr. Linden about it the very first time I see him." + +Something in this speech called forth Faith's colour. She had spoken +Sam's name herself with the simplest unchanging face; but now the +flushes came and came abundantly. + +"I don't know what good that would do, Mrs. Somers." + +"Nor I--till I try," said the lady smiling at her. "But if the mere +suggestion is so powerful, what may not the reality do? I'll say one +thing for Mr. Linden--he makes all those boys come into church and get +seated before the service begins--which nobody else ever did yet; if +they ever tried. I was curious to see how it would be last Sunday when +he wasn't there--but they were more punctual than ever. It's quite a +comfort--if there's anything I do hate to see, it's a troop of men and +boys outside the door when they ought to be in. What are you afraid +he'll say to Sam, Faith?" + +Faith's eyes were looking down. The question brought them up, and then +her smile was as frank as her blushes had been. "I am not afraid he'll +say anything, Mrs. Somers." + +"I don't know why he should, my dear," said Mr. Somers. "We all like to +use our eyes--you can't very well blame a boy." + +"O Mr. Somers!" said his wife--with that air which a woman puts on when +she says she believes, what she wouldn't for the world say _if_ she +believed,--"of course you think that! Don't I know how you broke your +heart after a green veil when you were in college? I don't think it's +been right whole since. Now I have some feeling for Sam--or his future +wife." + +"Well Mrs. Derrick, what shall I tell Julius?" said Miss Harrison as +she rose to go. + +"Tell him?" said Mrs. Derrick enquiringly. "He wouldn't care to hear +anything about me, if you did tell him, Miss Sophy." + +"Well!--he'll have to come and talk to you himself," said Miss +Harrison. "Faith, stand up for the right." + +Faith went to the door with her and returned ushering in a new-comer, +even the wife of Farmer Davids. + +"Husband wanted me to come and see how Mr. Linden was," she said in +meek explanation of her appearance. "He would have come hisself, but he +was forced to be in the field, and he said he wisht I'd come myself. +How is he, ma'am?" + +"I hope he's better,"--said Mrs. Derrick, giving her new visiter a kind +reception and a seat. "He don't get strong very fast. How are you all +at home, Mrs. Davids?" + +"We're considerable comfortable, ma'am," said Mrs. Davids taking the +chair in an unobtrusive spirit. "I am happy to have the occasion to +make your acquaintance better. Husband would have come hisself, only he +couldn't. Mr. Linden don't get strong?" + +"Not very fast," said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't know just when the doctor +'ll let him go to school again. I suppose you're anxious about Phil, +Mrs. Davids. But all the boys have to be out, now." + +"Yes ma'am, we're anxious--and husband is anxious about Mr. Linden, and +he sent me to know. But there is such a change in Phil, ma'am,"--she +said turning to Mrs. Somers,--"such a change, you wouldn't believe! he +never would go to school before--not regular--not for nobody--not for +his father, nor for me; and it was mor'n my life was worth. My husband, +he said it was my fault; but I don't know how 'twas! And now sir, he +don't want a word spoke to him! he's off before it's time in the +morning--and he learns too, for I catch him at it; and my husband don't +think anything in the world is too good for Mr. Linden; nor of course, +I s'pose, I don't. But however he's managed or overcome it, to make +Phil draw in harness, _I _don't know, and husband says he don't. And +ma'am, was those pears good? or what _does_ Mr. Linden like? If it's on +the farm he'll get it." + +It would have taken more conversational skill than Mrs. Derrick +possessed, to give a summary answer to all this; but her simplicity +answered as well, after all. + +"I guess he'll like what you've been saying better than anything, Mrs. +Davids; I'll tell him." + +"Do," said Mrs. Davids. "I wisht you would. Husband would have said it +completer. He thinks ma'am," (turning to Mrs. Somers again) "that Mr. +Linden is a wonderful man! And I'm of the opinion he's handsome." + +Faith had been sitting, quiet and demure, for some time past, hearing +what was going on; but this last sentence drove her to the right about +like lightning. She found something to do in another part of the room. + +"Did you ever hear anybody say he wasn't?" said Mrs. Somers. "Mr. +Somers, it's time we were going. Ah--there's Squire Stoutenburgh! +Faith--come here!" + +And Squire Stoutenburgh, appearing in the doorway like the worthy +father of his stout son, bowed to the company. + +"Well Mrs. Derrick--" he said,--"good day Mr. Somers--_and_ Mrs. +Somers! I beg pardon--Well Miss Faith! I'm glad it is well, I'm sure. +My dear, how do you do?" + +"Why very well, sir!" said Faith. + +"Why so it is!" said Squire Stoutenburgh taking hold of both her hands +and looking at her. "Sam said you were as pale as a ghost when he +carried you down to the spring--but Sam don't always see straight when +he's excited. You needn't be frightened if I kiss you, my dear you know +I always do, and always have--since you were a year old," said the +Squire as he took his wonted privilege. + +Faith gravely submitted, not letting the Squire however get any further +than her cheek; which ought to have contented him. + +"Sam was very good to me yesterday, sir," she answered. + +"I think, Squire," said Mr. Somers, "your son was--a--in luck, as we +say. A fortunate chance! What most people would have thought +no--a--disagreeable office." + +"Sam's a good boy--" said his father,--"a very good boy--always was. He +does crow a little over Dr. Harrison, I must say. But what shall we do +with the doctor, Mr. Somers?--what does he deserve for running away +with our Pattaquasset roses and turning them into meadow lilies? Yes, +yes, Miss Faith--you may look as pink as you please now--it won't help +the matter. What shall we do with him, sir? My dear," said Squire +Stoutenburgh seating Faith by his side and dropping his voice, "you're +growing wonderfully like your father!" + +A changed, sweet glance of Faith's eyes answered him. + +"Yes!"--the Squire repeated meditatively and looking at her.--"Ah he +was a fine man! I used to think he couldn't be better--but I s'pose he +is now. My dear, you needn't wonder when I tell you that I thought more +of your mother last night than I did of you. But you don't remember all +about that. Well--I shall go home and tell Mrs. Stoutenburgh that +you're as pretty as a posie, and then she won't care what else is the +matter," he said, getting up again. "Mrs. Somers, I see the parson +durstn't say a word about Dr. Harrison before you." + +"I--I declare I don't think Dr. Harrison is very much to be blamed, +Squire," said the parson thus called upon. "And Mrs. Somers is so well +able to speak for herself--I have no doubt, Squire Stoutenburgh, if it +wasn't for Mrs. Somers,--I dare say I might like to do as much as the +doctor did, myself!" + +"Bless my life!" said Squire Stoutenburgh, "I can't stay to be a party +to confidences of that sort!--I must go!--" and he departed, laughing +and followed by the two others. + +But even as they went, Faith, who with her mother had accompanied them +to the door, was electrified somewhat doubtfully at the vision of Miss +Deacon just within the gate. Miss Cecilia came forward, also with some +doubt upon her spirit, to judge by her air. But Faith's greeting of her +was so pleasant and kind, though she could not prevent its being grave, +that the young lady evidently took heart. Being reassured, she sat and +talked at leisure, and at length, using her eyes as well as her tongue; +thus making herself mistress of all the truth she could get at, and of +some more. She was thorough in her investigations as to all the drama +of the last seven days, and all and each of the actors therein; and at +the close of her visit declared that "Sam had been a great fool to go +away, and that she had told him so before"; and departed at last with +her head full of Dr Harrison. + +But detentions were not over. Miss Bezac came before Miss Deacon was +quit of the parlour; and before Miss Bezac had been two minutes there, +other members of the Pattaquasset community came pouring in. Everybody +must see Faith, hear particulars, discuss realities and possibilities +of the accident, and know how Mr. Linden was getting along. The hours +of the afternoon waned away; but people came as people went; and it was +not till long shadows and slant sunbeams began to give note of supper +time, that the influx lessened and the friends gathered in Mrs. +Derrick's parlour began to drop away without others stepping in to take +their place. + +"Faith," said her mother when they were at last alone, "I can't bear +this any longer! I shall go crazy if I hear that story one other time +to-night!" And she put her arms round Faith, and leaned her head +wearily on her shoulder. "I'll sit up to tea," she went on presently, +"and then if the rest of the town comes, you'll have to see 'em--for I +can't!" + +Faith gently put her into a chair and holding her in her arms stooped +over her. "Mother"--the words were as soft as the kisses which came +between,--"you mustn't mind it so much. Sit up to tea! Why I have made +some of the best muffins that ever were seen." + +"Child!" said her mother in a low voice, "I felt this morning as if I +had been as near death as you had!"--and if the words needed any +emphasis, they had it in the way Mrs. Derrick leaned her head against +Faith and was silent. But not for long. She got up, and kissing Faith +two or three times, said, "My pretty child!" in a tone that indeed told +of possible heartbreak; and then half holding her, half held by her, +drew her on into the tea-room. + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + + +It so happened that the first griddleful of muffins did not do credit +to their raising--(or to their bringing up, elegant reader!)--therefore +Mr. Linden's teatray waited for the second. Of course the other tea +waited too. Mrs. Derrick walked out into the kitchen to see _what_ was +the matter with the griddle; Faith discovered that one spoon on the +tray looked dull, and went to the spoonbasket to change it. Thus +occupied, and giving little reprehensive glances at the spoons +generally, and mental admonitions to Cindy, with the open closet door +half screening her from the rest of the room, she was startled--not by +the opening of another door, but by these words,-- + +"Miss Faith, shall I carry this tray upstairs?" + +To this day it is uncertain what sort of a spoon Faith brought +back!--or indeed whether she brought any at all. There was one flash of +gladness in her cheek and her eye, with the exclamation, "Mr. +Linden!"--then she came from the closet just her old little self. + +"Are you well enough to be down stairs, sir?" + +"In whose estimation, ma'am?" + +"Because if you are, Mr. Linden," she said with a face of laughing +pleasure, "won't you please come into the other room?" + +"I think not," he said, laughing a little too,--if the exertion of +coming down had made him pale, the pleasure partly concealed it. "I +will take a chair here, if you please. Am I alone, of all Pattaquasset, +to be forbidden to pay my respects to you to-night? Miss Faith, how do +you do?" + +"I am very well. But Mr. Linden, if you will please come into the other +room, there is an easy chair there. Please do! this room is cold, for +the fire got down while we were seeing people." + +She led the way as she spoke, without waiting for another denial; +pushed the table and a great chair of state, or of ease, in the +sitting-room, into closer neighbourhood; and renewed the brilliancy of +the fire. Then lit up the lamp and cleared books away from the table; +all done with quick alacrity. + +"That will do almost as well as the couch, won't it?" she said; and +then repeated in gentler tones her question, "Are you well enough to be +down, Mr. Linden?" + +"I don't know, Miss Faith!--I am well enough to want to be down. How +can you let the charms of society divert your mind from your books for +a whole afternoon? Have you been so studious for the last few days only +because you had nothing else to do?" + +She laughed at the question, and went off, leaving Mr. Linden in a +region of comfort. More comfort came soon in the shape of the teatray, +borne by Cindy; then Mrs. Derrick; and lastly Faith herself +appeared--bearing a plate of the muffins, perfect this time, and +delicate as they had need to be for a delicate appetite. Mr. Linden was +presently served with one of these and a cup of smoking tea; and Faith +thought, and her look half said it, that being down stairs would do him +no harm. Certainly the surprise and pleasure of such company to tea did +Mrs. Derrick good, whoever else missed it; though it is presumable no +one did. The pleasant sighing of the wind round the house and in the +chimney (it sighed alone for that evening) the sparkling of the fire, +the singing of the maple or hickory sticks, the comfortable atmosphere +of tea and muffins diffused, like the firelight, all through the room; +gave as fair an assemblage of creature comforts as need be wished; and +the atmosphere of talk was as bright, and savoury, and glowing too, in +its way; though the way was quiet. Mr. Linden amused himself (and +Faith) by giving her little lessons in the way she would have to talk +in those French "noonspells" she had in prospect: making Mrs. Derrick +laugh with the queer sounding words and sentences, and keeping Faith +interested to that point, that if he had not attended to her tea as +well, she would scarce have got any. + +"I shall not be hard upon you at first," he said smiling,--"when I see +you sitting in silent despair because you want something at my end of +the table, I will help you out with a 'que voulez-vous, mademoiselle?' +and perhaps with a 'voulez-vous?' this or that. But after a week or +two, Miss Faith, if you go without any dinner, it will not move me in +the least." + +Faith looked as if she would gladly forego her dinner to escape the +French asking for it, and yet not quite so neither. But this ordeal was +more terrible to her by far than all the rest; she could face them, +indeed, they had ceased to be anything but pleasure--or pleasure with a +spice that enhanced it; but at this she trembled. To the above +speech--or threat,--she simply answered, + +"I shall be so glad to see you come home to tea, Mr. Linden!" + +"And so glad to see me go away from dinner!" + +"I didn't say that." + +"You will--" said Mr. Linden,--"I can imagine you falling back in your +chair and exclaiming, 'Ah, quand voulez-vous partir, monsieur!'--which +of course will make it extremely difficult for me to remain a moment +longer." + +"I don't think you can imagine me doing it," said Faith laughing. "I +can't imagine myself." + +"That proves nothing. Only don't ever say to me, 'Monsieur! partez a +l'instant!'--because--" + +"Because what, Mr. Linden?" said Faith seriously. + +"Because we might disagree upon that point," he said with rather a +demure arch of his eyebrows. Faith's full silver rang out, softly. + +"You see!" she said. "It's beginning already. I don't know in the least +what you are talking about!" + +"No--you do not," was the laughing reply. "But Miss Faith, if I am kept +at home long enough, and society keeps at home too, instead of coming +between us and our exercises, those conversations will seem less +terrible by the time they begin. I should certainly get you a pocket +dictionary, but I prefer to be that myself. How far can you ride on +horseback at once?" + +"On horseback?" said Faith, much as if those words had been also +French, or an algebraical puzzle. + +"That was what I said." + +"I know that was what you said--I didn't know what you meant, Mr. +Linden. I have never been really on horseback but a few times in my +life--then I rode a few miles--I don't know exactly how many." + +"I wonder people don't do it more"--said Mrs. Derrick. "When I was a +girl that was the common way of getting about; and nobody ever got +thrown, neither." + +"Wouldn't that be the pleasantest way of getting to Mattabeeset?" said +Mr. Linden. + +An illumination answered him first; then "Oh, yes!" + +"I want you to see what is to be seen over there," he said,--"shall we +go some day, if I get well enough before cold weather?" + +Faith's quiet words of agreeing to this proposal were declared to be a +sham by her eyes, cheeks, lips and brow, every one of which was giving +testimony after a different fashion. + +At this moment the door opened. It happened that Dr. Harrison had +encountered Cindy at the hall door, where she was either loitering to +catch snatches of indoor conversation, or waiting to entrap Jem Waters. +But there she was, and being asked for Mr. Linden replied that he was +down stairs, and without more ceremony ushered the doctor in; and +entering the whole view lay before him in its freshness. Mrs. Derrick, +complacent and comfortable, sat behind the no-longer-wanted tea-tray, +listening and playing with a spoon. Faith's face, though considering +her unfinished muffin, was brilliant with rosy pleasure; while the fire +which she had for some time forgotten to mend, lay in a state of +powerful inaction, a mass of living coals and smoking brands. In the +glow of that stood the easy chair, and therein Mr. Linden, although +with the air and attitude of one wanting both rest and strength, was +considering with rather unbent lips no less a subject than--One and +Somewhat!--further the doctor's eyes could not read. The precise +direction of those other eyes was shaded. The doctor came up and stood +beside them. + +"Did I order you to stay up stairs?" he said in soft, measured +syllables, without having spoken to anybody else. + +"Good evening, doctor!" said Mr. Linden offering his hand. "As I meet +you half way, please excuse me for keeping my seat." + +From that hand, the doctor passed to Faith's; which was taken and held, +just enough to say all he wished to say; which, be it remarked in +passing, was a good deal. + +"May I approach Mrs. Derrick?" said he then, turning round to Mr. +Linden with a cool, funny, careless, yet good-humoured, doubt upon his +face. + +"What is the present state of your nerves?" + +"Depending upon your answer, of course!--which the ordinary rules of +society forbid me to wait for. Madam!--are you in sufficient charity +with me to give me a cup of tea?" + +"Yes, doctor--if the tea's good enough," said Mrs. Derrick with her +usual quietness. "And if it isn't I'll have some more." So saying she +got up and went towards the kitchen to call Cindy. The doctor skilfully +intercepted this movement, placing himself in her way. + +"May I ask, where you are going?" he said with a sort of gentle +kindliness he did not always put on. + +"Why to get some tea that's fit to give you, doctor. I don't think this +is." + +"Will you give me something else?" + +"I'll give you that first," said Mrs. Derrick--"I'll see about the +rest." And passing out into the kitchen she gave her orders about the +teapot, and a quiet little injunction to Faith to go in and sit down. + +"Mother, you're tired," said Faith. "Let me see about the tea!" + +"I guess I will!" said Mrs. Derrick. "I'm not going to have the house +stand up on one end just because Dr. Harrison wants his tea. You go +off, pretty child,--if you stay here he'll think you're baking muffins +for him, and I don't choose he should." + +"Why I would do it, mother," said Faith. She went off, however, into +the other room and sat down gravely, quite the other side of the +fireplace from the tea-table. Dr. Harrison was standing on the rug with +his back to the fire, and followed her with his eye. + +"How do you do?" he said in a softened voice, stepping a step nearer to +her. She looked up and gave him a frank and kind "very well!" + +Was it altogether professional, the way in which he took up her hand +and held it an instant? + +"Cool, and quiet," he said. "It's all right. I didn't frighten you out +of your wits yesterday?" + +The "no, sir," was in a different tone. + +"Do you suppose," he said, "that your mother will ever bear the sight +of me again?" + +"Why I hope so, sir," said Faith smiling. + +"I don't know!" he said. "I wonder if I have been so much more wicked +than I knew of? I don't think I have. I couldn't have punished myself +any more." + +Mrs. Derrick came in, followed by teapot and muffins, and having with +her usual politeness requested the doctor to take a seat at the table, +she proceeded to pour him out a cup of tea, nor even stinted him in +sugar. + +"If I stay at home according to your orders," said Mr. Linden, "I shall +have all the trustees after me." + +"You aren't just the person they ought to be after," said the doctor. +"Mrs. Derrick, I don't know why we never have anything at our house so +good as this." The doctor was discussing a buttered muffin with +satisfaction that was evidently unfeigned. + +Mrs. Derrick knew why--but she wouldn't tell him, though exulting in +her own knowledge. A low knock at the parlour door announced Reuben +Taylor. + +"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Derrick--" he said,--"but I went"-- + +"I am here, Reuben," said Mr. Linden. + +The boy stayed not for more compliments then, but passing the ladies +and the doctor with a collective bow, and "good evening, Miss Faith," +went round with a quick step and a glad face to Mr. Linden. And +kneeling down by him, with one hand on his shoulder, gave him the post +despatches, and asked and answered questions not very loud but very +earnestly. That was a phasis of Reuben Dr. Harrison had not seen +before. He took good and broad note of it, though nothing interrupted +the doctor's muffin--or muffins, for they were plural. Neither did he +interrupt anything that was going on. + +"Are you better, sir? are you really well enough to be down +stairs?"--Dr. Harrison would hardly have known the voice. And the +answering tone was of the gentlest and kindest, though the words failed +to reach the doctor's ears. Some directions, or commissions, +apparently, Mr. Linden gave for a few minutes, and then Reuben rose to +his feet with a long breath that spoke a mind very much relieved. He +paused for a moment on his way out, opposite Faith, as if he wanted a +word in that quarter; but perhaps the doctor's presence forbade, for +all the congratulation that Reuben gave her was in his face and bow. +That did not satisfy Faith if it did him. She jumped up and gave him +her hand, almost affectionately. + +"You see I am safe and well, Reuben." + +"I am so thankful, Miss Faith!" And the words said not half. + +The doctor had finished his muffins and was standing before the fire +again. "Have you found out yet, my man," he said in a somewhat amused +voice,--"whose friend you are?" + +The words jarred--and the colour on Reuben's face was of a different +tint from that which had answered Faith. It was with his usual reserved +manner, though nothing could be more civil, that he said, "No sir--no +more than I knew before." But the respect was from Reuben as a boy to +Dr. Harrison as a man. Faith's eye glanced from one to the other, and +then she said, "What do you mean, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Only a play of words," said the doctor lightly. "This young fellow is +very cautious of making professions--as I have found." + +"He has no need, sir," said Faith. She quitted as she spoke, the boy's +hand which she had held until then, and came back to her seat. The +words were spoken quietly enough and with as gentle a face, and yet +with somewhat in the manner of both that met and fully answered all the +bearing of the doctor's. + +"You need not wait, Reuben," said his teacher--"I shall see you again +by and by." + +"Who is that?" said the doctor as Reuben went out. + +"One of my body-guard," said Mr. Linden, with lips not yet at rest from +their amused look. + +"Are you waited upon by a Fehm-gericht? or may the members be known by +the uninitiated?" + +"I beg pardon!" said Mr. Linden,--"but as you seemed to know him, and +as you really did know his name a week ago--That is Reuben Taylor, Dr. +Harrison." + +"So do I beg pardon! His name I do know, of course--as I have had +occasion; but the essence of my enquiry remains in its integrity. _Him_ +I do not know. Where and to whom does he belong?" + +"He is one of those of whom we spoke this morning," said Mr. Linden. +"True servant of God is his title--to Him does Reuben belong. His home +here is a little hut on the outskirts of Pattaquasset, his father a +poor fisherman." + +There was a minute's silence, all round. + +"May I ask for a little enlightening, Miss Derrick?" said the doctor. +"What do you mean, if you will be so good as to let me know,--by a +person who 'does not need' to make professions." + +Faith hesitated. + +"Will you please say first, Dr. Harrison, just what you mean by +'professions?'" she said somewhat timidly. + +"I shall shelter myself under your meaning," said he looking at her. +"Fact is, I am not good at definitions--I don't half the time know what +I'm saying myself." + +Faith cast an involuntary glance for help towards Mr. Linden; but +getting none she came back to the doctor and the question, blushing a +good deal. + +"I think," she said, "professions are telling people what you wish them +to believe of you." + +The doctor looked comical, also threw a glance in the direction of Mr. +Linden, but put his next question seriously. + +"Why do you say this Reuben Taylor does not need to make professions? +according to this definition." + +"Because those who know him know what he is, without them." + +"But do you mean that there is no use in making professions? How are +you to know what a man is?" + +"Unless he tells you?" said Faith smiling. + +The doctor stood, half smiling; evidently revolving more thoughts than +of one kind. With a face from which every shadow was banished he +suddenly took a seat by Mrs. Derrick. + +"Do you know," he said with gentle pleasantness of manner and +expression, "how much better man I should be if I should come here and +get only one definition a day from your little daughter?" + +"What one has she given you now?" said Mrs. Derrick, whose mind +evidently stood in abeyance upon this speech. + +"One you didn't hear, ma'am. It was a definition of me, to myself. It +isn't the first," said the doctor gravely. "Mrs. Derrick, are you +friends with me?" + +"As much as I ever was," said Mrs. Derrick, smilingly. "I always +thought you wanted putting in order." + +"How did you know that?" + +"Why, because you were out of order," said Mrs. Derrick, knitting away. +The doctor uttered the lowest of whistles and looked down at his boot. + +"It's because of that unlucky dog!" he muttered. "Linden--" (glancing +up from under his eyebrows) "when I was a boy, I set my dog on Miss +Faith's cat." + +"Felt yourself called upon to uphold natural antipathies--" + +"Miss Faith, have you a cat now?" said the doctor looking over to her. + +"No, sir." + +"And I have no dog!" said the doctor. "I have only horses. If I could +manage to do without animals altogether,--Mrs. Derrick, have you +forgiven me?" This last was in a changed tone. + +"I don't want to talk about it, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick very soberly. + +"About forgiving me?" he said as soberly. + +"And I don't mean to." + +"Nor I," said the doctor quietly; "but you are going to inflict more +punishment on me than I deserve." + +"What am I going to do?" said Mrs. Derrick. "If you know, I don't." + +"Refuse to give me your hand, perhaps." + +"I never did that to anybody, yet," she said pleasantly. + +"Then you must let me do as we do in another country." + +He bent his face to her hand as he spoke, and kissed it. There was no +mockery in the action. Done by some people it would have been +ridiculous. By Dr. Harrison, in the circumstances, it was in the +highest degree graceful. It spoke sympathy, penitence, respect, manly +confession, and submission, too simply not to be what it certainly was +in some measure, a true expression of feeling. Mrs. Derrick on her part +looked amused,--her old recollections of the boy constantly tinged her +impressions of the man; and perhaps not without reason. + +"You're as like yourself as ever you can be, doctor!" she said, smiling +at him. "How you used to try to get round me!" + +"I don't remember!" said the doctor. "I am sure I never succeeded, Mrs. +Derrick?" + +"I'm afraid you did, sometimes," she said, shaking her head. He smiled +a little, and turned the other way. + +"Linden, I've been considering the German question." + +"Will it please you to state the result?" + +"This!" said the doctor. "I have come to the conclusion,--that in order +to be One and Somewhat, it is necessary to begin by being Nought and +All--Thus ranging myself in security on _both_ sides of a great abyss +of metaphysics. What do you think? Unphilosophical?" + +"Unsafe--" said Mr. Linden. "And impossible." + +"Humph?"--said the doctor. "Nothing is impossible in +metaphysics--because you may be on both sides of an abyss, and in the +bottom of it!--at once--and without knowing where you are. The angel +that rode Milton's sunbeam, you know, was no time at all going from +heaven to earth; and I suppose he went the other way as quick." + +"I don't see the abyss in that case," said Mr. Linden,--"but + + ----'Uriel to his charge + Returned on that bright beam'-- + +so probably he did." + +"Yes"--said the doctor.--"And my meaning skipped the abyss,--also on a +sunbeam. It referred to the unsubstantial means of travelling in use +among metaphysicians." + +"And among angels." + +"That reminds me," said the doctor. And quitting his stand on the rug, +which he had taken again, he went over to Faith and sat down by her. + +"Is the Nightingale flourishing on her rose-bush to-day?" + +"What, sir?" said Faith, her eyes opening at him a little. + +"I beg pardon!" said the doctor. "I have been living in a part of the +world, Miss Derrick, where it is the fashion to call things not by +their right names. I have got a foolish habit of it. Do you feel quite +recovered?" + +"Quite. I'm a little tired to-night, perhaps." + +"I see you are, and I'll not detain you. Mrs. Custers wants to see you +again." He had dropped all banter, and was speaking to her quietly, +respectfully, kindly, as he should speak; in a lowered tone, but not so +low as to be unheard by others than her. + +"I will try to see her again soon--I will try to go very soon," she +answered. + +"Would you be afraid to go with my father's old stand-bys?--they are +safe!"-- + +"I cannot do that, Dr. Harrison--but I will try to see her soon." + +"Can you go without riding?" + +"No," she said smiling; "but I must find some other way." + +"I won't press that point," said the doctor. "I can't blame you. I must +bear that. But--I want for my own sake to have the honour of a little +talk with you--I want to explain to you one or two things. Shall you be +at leisure to-morrow afternoon?" + +"I am hardly _at leisure_ any time, Dr. Harrison. I do not suppose I +shall be particularly busy then." + +"Then will you take that time for a walk?" + +Faith hesitated. "I have very little time, sir." + +"But you take time to go out?" + +"Not much." + +"I will not ask much. A little will do; and so much you owe to skyey +influences. You will not refuse me that?" + +"I will go, Dr. Harrison," Faith answered after an instant a little +soberly. He rose up then; proposed to attend upon Mr. Linden, and they +went up stairs together. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + + +Faith was half ready to wish the next day might be rainy; but it rose +fair and bright. She must go to walk, probably; and visiters might +come. The only thing to be done was to despatch her ordinary duties as +quick as possible, prepare her French exercise, and go to her teacher +early. Which she did. + +She came in with a face as bright as the day, although a little less +ready to look in everybody's eyes. There were enough things ready for +her. Lessons were pressed rather more steadily than usual, perhaps +because they had been neglected a little for the last two days--or +hindered; and it was not till one book and another had done its work, +till the exercise was copied and various figure puzzles disposed of, +that Mr. Linden told her he thought a talking exercise ought to come +next,--if she had one ready he should like to have the benefit of it. + +"You are tired, Mr. Linden!" said Faith quickly. + +"You may begin by giving me the grounds of that conclusion." + +"I don't know," she said half laughing,--"I don't see it; but that +don't make me know. I was afraid you were tired with this work." + +"Very unsafe, Miss Faith, to build up such a superstructure upon +grounds that you neither see nor know. I was immediately beginning to +question the style of my own explanations this morning." + +"Why, sir?" + +"If I seem tired, said explanations may have seemed--tiresome." + +She looked silently, with a smile, as if questioning the possibility of +his thinking so; and her answer did not go to that point. + +"You didn't seem tired, Mr. Linden--I had no reason for thinking so, I +suppose. I was only afraid. I was going to ask you what Dr. Harrison +meant last night by the angel riding upon a sunbeam? I saw you knew +what he meant." + +Mr. Linden got up and went for a book--then came back to his couch +again. + +"Precisely what Dr. Harrison meant, Miss Faith, I should not like to +say. What he referred to, was a part of Paradise Lost, where the angels +set to guard the earth have a messenger. + + 'Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even + On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star.'" + + +"Who is Uriel? an angel?" + +"Yes. He is called, + + 'The archangel Uriel, one of the seven + Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, + Stand ready at his command, and are his eyes. + That run through all the heavens, or down to the earth, + Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, + O'er sea and land.'" + + +Faith listened, evidently with a pleased ear. + +"But I suppose the angel could come as well without the sunbeam as with +it?" + +"I suppose so!" he said smiling. "In my belief, angels go where the +sunbeams do not. But Milton chose to name Uriel as the special regent +of the sun, and so passing to and fro on its rays." + +"What do you mean by 'regent,' Mr. Linden?" + +"A regent is one appointed to rule in place of the king." + +"But that don't seem to me true, Mr. Linden," said Faith after a little +meditation. + +"What, and why?" + +Faith blushed at finding herself 'in for it,' but went on. + +"I don't suppose the sun wants anybody to rule it or to take care of +it, under its Maker?" + +"Yet it may please him to have guardian spirits there as well as +here,--about that we know not. In the Revelation, you know, an angel is +spoken of as 'standing in the sun,' and from that Milton took his idea. +Part of the description is very beautiful, at least;-- + + 'So spake the false dissembler unperceived; + For neither man nor angel can discern + Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks + Invisible, except to God alone, + By his permissive will, through heaven and earth. + And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps + At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity + Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill, + Where no ill seems: which now for once beguiled + Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held + The sharpest sighted spirit of all in heaven.'" + + +"Who is the person spoken of in the first line, Mr. Linden?" + +"Satan--applying to Uriel for guidance to the new created earth and its +inhabitants, on the same plea that Herod presented to the wise men." + +"But that's a story?" said Faith. + +"Yes. The Bible only tells the work done by him after he got here." + +"Mr. Linden, will you read that over once more for me." + +She listened with a face of absorbed intentness while it was read; then +looked away from the book with an unconscious but very audible sigh. + +"Well?" Mr. Linden said, smiling as he looked at her. + +"I like it very much!" was Faith's answer. + +"Is that what made you sigh?" + +"Sigh!" she said starting a little and colouring. "No,--I didn't mean +to sigh." + +"The fact is more than the intention. Whence came that?" + +"It was only--Please don't ask me, Mr. Linden. I can't tell you." + +He made no answer to that, but turning over the leaves read to her here +and there without much comment,--then asked her if she was tired of +hearing about angels. + +"I think I should never be tired!" said Faith. "But you must be, Mr. +Linden. Please," she said putting her hand gently on the book,--"don't +read for me any more. Is all the book like that?" + +"Not quite all--I have given you some bits that I particularly like, +but there is much more. You need not be uneasy about my being tired," +he said smiling; "if I were, by your own shewing I can have rest. +However, Miss Faith--lessons being the order of the day--will you read +French to me?" + +In her reading, Faith came to the description of the philosopher's +perplexity in finding that the birds would not pick up the crumbs he +threw to them on the roof as usual. He concluded the feathered things +were not more reason able than mankind, and had taken fright for +nothing. + + + +"J'allais fermer ma fenetre sur cette reflexion, quand j'apercois tout +a coup, dans l'espace lumineux qui s'etend a droite, l'ombre de deux +oreilles qui se dressent, puis une griffe qui s'avance, puis la tete +d'un chat tigre qui se montre a l'angle de la gouttiere. Le drole etait +la en embuscade, esperant que les aniettes lui ameneraient du gibier. + +"Et moi qui accusais la couardise de mes hotes! J'etais sur qu'aucun +danger ne les menacait! je croyais avoir bien regarde partout! je +n'avais oublie que le coin derriere moi! + +"Dans la vie comme sur les toits, que de malheurs arrivent pour avoir +oublie un seul coin!" + + + +Faith closed the book then, very much amused with the philosopher's +"chat tigre." + +"But often one can't see round the corner," she remarked. + +A little gesture of lips and brow, half asserted that if one could not, +_one_ could: but Mr. Linden only said, + +"Most true! Miss Faith. Nevertheless, the knowledge that there _are_ +corners is not to be despised." + +"I don't know. I shouldn't like to live always in fear of seeing the +shadow of a cat's ears come in." + +"Have you quite outgrown the love of cats?" said Mr. Linden smiling. + +"No, but I was talking of the fear of corners," she said with an +answering smile. "I don't think I want to remember the corners, Mr. +Linden." + +"I don't think I want you should. Philosophers and birds, you know, go +through the world on different principles." + +She laughed a little at that, gave the hearth a parting brush, and went +off to dinner. + +Business claimed its place after dinner, business of a less pleasant +kind, quite up to the time when Faith must put on her bonnet to walk +with Dr. Harrison. + +Faith had no great mind to the walk, but she couldn't help finding it +pleasant. The open air was very sweet and bracing; the exercise was +inspiriting, and the threatened talk went well with both. There was +nothing whatever formidable about it; the words and thoughts seemed to +play, like the sunlight, on anything that came in their way. Dr. +Harrison knew how to make a walk or a talk pleasant, even to Faith, it +seemed. Whatever she had at any time seen in him that she did not like, +was out of sight; pleasant, gentle, intelligent, grave, he was +constantly supplying ear and mind with words and things that were worth +the having. Probably he had discovered her eager thirst for knowledge; +for he furnished her daintily with bits of many a kind, from his own +stores which were large. She did not know there was any design in this; +she knew only that the steps were taken very easily in that walk. So +pleasant it was that Faith was in no haste to turn, in no mood to +quicken her pace. But something else was on her mind,--and must come +out. + +"Dr. Harrison,"--she said when they were in a quiet part of the way, +with nobody near, "may I speak to you about something?--that perhaps +you won't like?" + +"You can speak of nothing I should not like--to hear," he said with +gentle assurance. + +"Dr. Harrison--" said Faith, speaking as if the recollection touched +her,--"when you and I were thrown out in that meadow the other day and +came so near losing our lives--if the _almost_ had been _quite_, if we +had both been killed,--_I_ should have been safe and well, I +believe.--How would it have been with you?" + +Dr. Harrison looked at her. + +"If I had gone in your company," he said, "I think it would hardly have +been ill with me." + +"Do you know so little as that?"--she said, in such a tone of sorrow +and pity as might have suited one of the 'ministering spirits' she had +been likened to. + +"I don't think I am as good as you are," the doctor said with a face +not unmoved. + +"Good!" said Faith. "What do you mean by goodness, Dr. Harrison?" + +"I shall have the worst of it if I try to go into definitions again," +he said smiling. "I think you will find what I mean, in consulting your +own thoughts." + +"Goodness?" said Faith again. "Do you remember the silver scale-armour +of that Lepisma, Dr. Harrison? _That_ is perfection. That is what God +means by goodness--not the outside things that every eye, or your own, +can see;--but when the far-down, far-back thoughts and imaginations of +your heart will bear _such_ looking at and be found faultless! Less +than that, God will not take from you, if you are going to heaven by +your own goodness." + +He looked at her. They had changed sides; and as fearless now as he, +_she_ was the speaker, and he had little to say. + +"I don't know much about these things, Miss Faith," he answered soberly. + +"I don't know much, Dr. Harrison," she said humbly. "But think what you +were near the other day." + +"I don't know!"--said he, as if making a clean breast of it. She paused. + +"Dr. Harrison, will a wise man leave such a matter in uncertainty?" + +"I am not wise," said he. "I am ignorant--in this." + +"You know you need not remain so." + +"That is not so certain! I have seen so much--of what you have seen so +little, my dear Miss Derrick, that you can scarce understand how light +the weight of most people's testimony is to me." + +"But there is the testimony of one higher," said Faith. "There is God's +own word?" + +"I don't know it." + +"_Won't_ you know it, sir?" + +"I will do anything you ask me in that voice," he said smiling at her. +"But after all one reads people and people's _professions_, miss +Faith;--and they make the first impression." + +"I dare say it is often not true," said Faith sadly. + +"_You_ are true," said he; "and you may say to me what you will, on +this subject or any other, and I will believe it." + +They walked a little distance in silence. + +"What are you thinking of?" said the doctor in a very gentle accent of +inquiry. + +"I am sorry--very sorry for you, Dr. Harrison." + +"Why?" said he taking her hand. + +"Because it seems to me you are not caring in earnest about this +matter." + +He kissed the hand, without asking permission. But it was done with a +grateful warm expression of feeling. + +"I will do whatever you tell me to do!" he said. + +How Faith wished she could send him to another adviser! But that she +could not. + +"Tell me," he repeated. "I will do it." The look and tone were earnest, +moved, and warm; she had hardly seen the like in Dr. Harrison before. + +"Then, Dr. Harrison, I wish you would read the Bible, with the +determination to do what you find there you ought." + +"I will," he said smiling. "And if I get into difficulty you must help +me." + +The rest of the way was extremely pleasant, after that; only it seemed +to Faith that they met all the world! First there was Cecilia Deacon, +whose eyes took good note, she thought, of both the walkers from head +to foot. Then they met at intervals every one of Faith's Sunday school +scholars; for every one of whom she had a glad greeting and word which +she must stop for, somewhat to the doctor's amused edification. Miss +Bezac happened, of all people, to be going up street when they were +going down; and her eyes looked rather with some wistful gravity upon +the pair, for all her pleasant nods to both. Then Mrs. Somers. + +"Well I think you are _Faith!_"--was her brisk remark,--"or +faith_less_--which is it? Julius, I heard a remarkable story about you +yesterday." + +"Aunt Ellen--I like to hear remarkable stories. Especially about +anything remarkable." + +"Well this isn't one of that sort," said Mrs. Somers. + +"I am sure you said--However, let's have it, of any sort." + +"I heard you had your pocket picked of a good opportunity," said Mrs. +Somers. "Does Mr. Linden expect to be out next week, Faith?" + +"I believe Dr. Harrison will not let him, Mrs. Somers." + +A little unverbalized sound answered that, and Mrs. Somers said good +evening and walked on. Faith thought that was the end, as they were +near her own door. But Dr. Harrison followed her in; and entering the +sitting-room, Faith found that her meetings were not over. There was no +less a person than Mrs. Stoutenburgh, and there also, regaling her eyes +and ears, were Mrs. Derrick and Mr. Linden. + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh was a fair, pretty, curly-haired woman, a good deal +younger than the Squire, intensely devoted to her own family, and very +partial to Mr. Linden--whom she had taken under her wing (figuratively) +from his first coming to Pattaquasset. The first sound Faith heard as +she opened the door was Mrs. Stoutenburgh's merry laugh at some remark +of his--then the lady jumped up and came towards her. + +"My dear Faith, how do you do?--Dr. Harrison--I half said I would never +speak to you again! Faith, how can you trust yourself with him for one +minute?" + +"Mrs. Stoutenburgh," said the doctor,--"I half thought I would shoot +myself!" + +"I guess that's as near as you'll come to it, on purpose," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh. "You needn't think I shall forget it--whenever I want +Faith to come and see me I shall tell Mr. Linden to bring her. He's +safe--or supposed to be," she added laughingly. + +"I hope that's as near to it as I shall ever come on purpose, or +_otherwise_, Mrs. Stoutenburgh!" said the doctor. "I think you should +judge me safer than Mr. Linden,--as appearances go." + +"Squire Deacon used to tell very hard stories of him when he first +came," said the lady--"and I _have_ heard a report or two since. I do +love to talk to him about it!--he always looks so grave, I think he +likes it." + +The laugh was mutual, whether the delight was or no. + +"Who is Squire Deacon?" said the doctor. "I should like to make his +acquaintance." + +Faith took off her bonnet, and then pulled off her gloves, +deliberately, and bestowed them on the table. + +"O he's a Pattaquasseter," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh--"haven't you seen +his sister? She admires you--more than I think she need," she added +mischievously. "But the Squire's been away for awhile,--he just got +home this afternoon." + +Faith had recourse to the fire. The doctor came round, took the tongs +from her and did the work; after which he took a somewhat succinct +leave of the assembly. + +"By the way, Linden," he said pausing by his chair a moment,--"I expect +to be in Quilipeak for a few days--I am very sorry, but I must. You +won't want me, I think. Limbre can do all that is necessary. I shall +see you Monday or Tuesday again." + +"Doctor!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh--"I want you to take me home. Mr. +Stoutenburgh always makes such a fuss if I'm out after dark and don't +bring anybody home to tea, that I never dare do it." + +"Will you trust yourself with me, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" said the doctor +standing in comical doubt. + +"Just wait a minute," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, as she went round with +her pretty, free, womanly manner, and laid her hand on Mr. Linden's +forehead and hands, just as if he had been one of her own boys. "I tell +you what--I don't think you cure him up half fast enough among you. If +I had him up at my house I'd take better care of him." + +"No, Mrs. Stoutenburgh, even you could not do that," he said looking up +at her. She stood still a moment. + +"You shouldn't look at me so," she said,--"I shall go home and feel +real bad for all the nonsense I've been talking. You know," she added, +with the mischievous look coming back, "I never did believe one word of +it--except--" and the sentence was finished softly. "Now I'm ready, +doctor--O Faith, I had a message for you, but Mr. Linden will tell you. +Good-bye. No, doctor--I'm not going to trust myself with you,--you're +going to trust yourself with me." + +Dr. Harrison was for once quiet, and went off without a repartee. + +Other eyes looked with a different anxiety at Mr. Linden then, and +another voice, more grave as well as more timid, asked, at his side, +"Are you not so well to-night, Mr. Linden?" + +He smiled, and gave her his hand by way of answer, before he spoke. + +"I think I am, Miss Faith--you know Mrs. Stoutenburgh has not seen me +before since I was quite well." + +She brought both hands to test the feeling of his, for an instant, +without speaking. + +"Mr. Linden, I heard what Dr. Harrison said--Don't you think I can do +instead of Dr. Limbre?" + +"Yes, Miss Faith--if you will be so good," he answered without +hesitation and with the simplest tone and manner. Her brow lightened +immediately; and happy and quiet as usual, and that was very happy, she +began to make her preparations for tea, clearing the table and rolling +it to its last night's position. In which last operation she had +assistance. Then she went off for her tea--and the lamp and the +fire-light shone again presently on the pleasant scene of last night. + +"Don't you want to hear your message, Miss Faith?" Mr. Linden said. + +"Yes, but I wasn't in a hurry, Mr. Linden. I supposed it would come." + +"It is in three parts. The first is nothing new; being merely that the +birthday of the young heir of the house of Stoutenburgh occurs on the +29th of November. Whether the second part is new, I--being a +stranger--cannot tell; but the day is to be graced with various +suitable festivities." + +"It's all new to me," said Faith laughing. + +"Of the novelty of the third part you also must judge," said Mr. Linden +with a smile. "The aforesaid young heir will consider the festivities +entirely incomplete without your presence--nay, will perhaps refuse to +have his birthday come at all, and wish that these 'happy returns' had +never had a beginning." + +Faith's laugh came with its full merry roll now, and she withal +coloured a little. + +"What must I do then, Mr. Linden?" + +"I generally incline to the merciful side, Miss Faith--I believe I +should advise you to go. Then I, not having such power in my hands, may +not appreciate its fascinations." + +"Such power? As what, Mr. Linden?" + +"I ought in conscience to tell you--" he went on without answering +her,--"it has been on my mind ever since, that the other night"--and +the look was grave for a minute--"the trophy of a broken rosebud was +picked up where you fell. And I had not the heart to reclaim it, Miss +Faith," Mr. Linden said, with a submissive air of confession. + +She looked at him with the prettiest look in the world, of grave, only +half conscious enquiry; and then the lost rosebud was more than +replaced in her cheeks. + +"That is the state of the case," Mr. Linden said, as gravely as if both +rosebuds had been out of sight and mind, "but your mother refuses to +go. And it seems that I also am wanted on the 29th; so if you please, +Miss Faith, I will try to see that you make the journey both ways in +safety." + +"I should like to go," said Faith quietly. "They are pleasant people." + +The tea things were withdrawn, and Cindy was no more needed there, and +Mrs. Derrick also had gone into the other part of the house to attend +to some business. Faith stood before the fire looking meditatively into +it. + +"I wish," she said slowly and soberly,--"Dr. Harrison would please to +talk to you instead of to me, Mr. Linden!" + +"Talk to me?" Mr. Linden repeated, looking at her. "About professions?" + +"No indeed!" said Faith, first astonished and then smiling,--"I mean +very different things. About religion, and what he thinks of it?" + +Rather soberly the words were received, and soberly answered, not at +once. + +"Do not let him say much to you on that last point, Miss Faith." + +"How can I help it, Mr. Linden?" she said instantly. + +"Forbid him, if need be. If he asks for information, and you choose to +give it, that is one thing,--you are not obliged to hear all the +skeptical views and arguments with which he is furnished. Your +statement of the truth has nothing to do with the grounds of his +unbelief." + +"But--" + +Faith got no further. She stood thinking of that afternoon's talk, and +of the certain possible hindrances to her following such advice. + +"I am talking a little in the dark, you know," Mr. Linden said,--"I am +only supposing what he may say and ask you to say; and I do not think +much of such conversation between any parties. Press home the +truth--and like David's pebble it may do its work; but in a fencing +match David might have found it harder to maintain his ground. And his +overthrow would not have touched the truth of his cause, nor perhaps +his own faith--yet the Philistine would have triumphed." + +"Thank you, Mr. Linden," she said with a grateful smile. "That is just +the truth. But, do you think Dr. Harrison is--exactly a Philistine?" + +"Not in all respects," he said smiling. "What do you mean by a +Philistine?" + +"I thought you put him in the place of _that_ Philistine," she said. + +"Yes, for the illustration. But I do not know him to be strictly a +_champion_ of unbelief, although he avows himself on that side. His +conversations with me have left me uncertain how far he would go." + +Faith was silent and looked thoughtful. + +"Have I touched any of your difficulties? May I hear any more?" + +"No--" she said. "I believe you have said all you can say. And it is +good for me." + +"I have not said all I _could_ say, but it is not easy for me to talk +to you about it at all. You see, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden smiling, +"there cannot be such an anomaly in nature as a philosophical bird--so +what am I to do?" + +Faith smiled a little and thought that as long as he gave her the +benefit of his philosophy, it did not much matter. Which recondite view +of the subject she did not put into words. + +The days began to roll on smoothly once more, subsiding into their old +uneventful flow. The flow of talk indeed had not quite subsided; but as +nothing came to throw any light on the point of the unknown sportsman +who chose his sport so strangely, curiosity took a modified, condensed +form; and the whole matter was stowed away in people's minds as the one +Pattaquasset mystery. Happy Pattaquasset! + +Even Mr. Linden's protracted confinement to the house made little +difference to most, he had been so little seen when he was able to be +out: only the boys had had his daylight hours; and where he had spent +those times of twilight and evening when he was not at home, no one +knew but the poor unknown class who mourned his absence as they had +blessed his presence, in secret. The boys were not silent,--but they +had the indemnification of going to see him, and of watching--or +sleeping--in his room at night, according to their various +dispositions. There came all his scholars on Sunday,--met by Faith on +her contrary way; there came the whole school by turns, and at all +hours. Indeed when once the embargo upon visiters was taken off, the +supply was great!--and without careful measures on the part of Mr. +Linden, French exercises would have been put aside with a witness. But +he made two or three rules, and carried them out. In the first place he +would see nobody before dinner, except the doctor; nor anybody after +tea, save the same privileged individual. In the second place, when he +was able to be out of his room without too much fatigue, the lessons +were carried on down stairs,--in the dining-room generally, as being +more private. There could both parties come and go without observation; +and often when Mrs. Derrick was entertaining a roomful, a sudden fall +of the thin partition would have revealed the very people they were +discussing, deep in some pretty point of information. Pretty those +lessons were! Faith's steps,--arithmetical, geographical, or what +other,--were swift, steady, and sure; herself indefatigable, her +teacher no less. If Mr. Linden had not quite come to be in her eyes "an +old school book," she was yet enough accustomed to his teaching and +animadversions to merge the binding in the book; and as to him, she +might have been one of his school boys, for the straightforward way in +which he opened paths of knowledge and led her through. The leading was +more careful of her strength, more respectful of her timidity,--was +more strictly _leading_ than _pushing_,--that was all. Of course in two +weeks, or even in four, the best of teachers and scholars could make +but a beginning; but that was well made, and the work went steadily on +from thence--despite "teaching all day," despite the various other +calls for time and strength. + +And Faith was as docile and obedient as Johnny Fax himself, and as far +as those qualities went, very much in the same way. If the denial of +Phil's _information_ and Mr. Linden's manner the day after her +overturn, had raised a doubt as to the real abstractness of his regard +for her, Faith's modesty and simplicity put the thought well into the +background. She did not care to look at it or bring it up; in the full, +happy, peaceful hours she was enjoying she had enough, for the present; +and so Faith went on very much after her old fashion. A little quieter, +perhaps, when not called out of it; a little shyer of even innocently +putting herself forward; but in speech or action, speaking and acting +with her wonted free simplicity. + +The only breaks in these weeks were one or two visits to Mrs. Custers, +and the doctor's comings and goings. He could not be shut out. + +The Monday evening after the doctor's absence at Quilipeak, the little +party were as usual in the sitting-room; and a pretty chapter of +Physical Geography was in process of reading and talk, when the +doctor's quick wheels at the door announced not only his return but his +arrival. And Mr. Linden announced to his scholar, that it was needful +now to return to the surface of the earth and attend to the flow of +conversation--and to put the book in his pocket. + +"Are you glad to see me back?" said the doctor as he took the hand of +his patient. He looked rather glad himself. + +"If I say yes, that will be to confess that I have reason. You perceive +my dilemma," Mr. Linden said, but with a smile that was certainly as +kind and trustworthy as any the doctor had seen since he went away. + +"Do you mean--that you have no reason to be glad?" said Dr. Harrison +slowly, eying the smile and giving it, to judge by his own, a trustful +regard. + +"Certainly not! It's a comfort to have somebody at hand who is ready to +fight me at any moment," said Mr. Linden. + +"What have you been doing since I went away?" + +"Reading, writing, and considering the world generally." + +"From this Pattaquasset centre!" + +"Why not?--if lines meet and make it one." + +"How do you get the ends of the lines in your hands!" said the doctor. +"A centre, I feel it to be--but very like the centre of the +earth--socially and politically. You see, I have just emerged to the +surface, and come down again. Who has taken care of you?" + +"I feel quite equal to the task of taking care of myself, thank you, +doctor." + +"You don't mean to say, man, you have dressed your arm yourself?" + +"What _do_ you suppose my powers are equal to?" + +"That is a matter," said the doctor, "upon which I stand in +doubt--which gives me an uncomfortable, troublesome sort of feeling +when I am in your presence. It must be superstition. I suppose I shall +get the better of it--or of you!--in time. Meanwhile, who _has_ dressed +your arm for you?" + +The answer was given very quietly, very simply, not very loud. "The +lady whom you had the honour of instructing in the art, Dr. Harrison." + +"Did you do it well?" said Dr. Harrison somewhat comically, wheeling +round before Faith. + +She was a contrast; as her face looked up at him, rather pleased, and +her soft voice answered,--"I think I did, sir." + +"I don't doubt you did! And I don't doubt you would do anything. Are +you preparing to be another Portia? And am I to be Bellario?" + +"I don't know what you mean, Dr. Harrison." + +"Do you know the story of Portia?--in the Merchant of Venice?" + +"I never read it." + +"She was a dangerous character," said the doctor. "Portia, Miss +Derrick, wishing to save not the life but the character and happiness +of a--But what a way this is to tell you the story! Is there a +Shakspeare here?" + +"We haven't it," said Faith quietly. + +"I'll bring the play the next time I come, if you will allow me," he +said sitting down by her;--"and indoctrinate you in something more +interesting than my first lesson. How shall I thank you for doing my +work for me?" + +"It became my work." + +"I am in your debt nevertheless--more than you can know without being +one of my profession. I have some thing that I wish to submit to your +inspection, and to take your advice upon, too. It will be fit to be +seen, I hope, by the day after to-morrow. If I could I would bring it +here--but as that is not possible--Will you go to see it?" + +"Where is it?" + +"Not far; but it will cost you the taking of a few steps." + +Faith declared she had hardly time to go to see anything; but was +obliged finally to yield to persuasion, and Thursday was the day fixed. +The thing, whatever it was, however, was not ready when the day came, +and the exhibition was put off indefinitely. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + + +Those weeks, like others, came to an end. And then Mr. Linden gave +notice to all and sundry of his scholars, that his time of seclusion +was at an end--only giving way to advice so far, as to accept the daily +use of Squire Stoutenburgh's close carriage, until his health should be +in a more assured state. Monday morning he was to take up his old +routine of school duties; though none too fit for it, in the estimation +of some people,--the doctor said it was a month too soon. And no one +could look at him and forget the last month's work,--a little exertion +made the work very apparent; and as they sat at breakfast Monday +morning, Mrs. Derrick made up her own mind privately that Dr. Harrison +should have found some means to keep him in the house and from work yet +longer. But the result of her meditations was not put in words; the +effect betrayed itself in the extra care bestowed upon cups of +coffee--the only thing within her reach. + +It was a cold morning, true November, with its driving grey wind +clouds, through which the cool sunbeams straggled fitfully; with trees +shorn of their golden honours, and brown branches waving and twisting +in the wind, and only mere specks of blue here and there overhead. The +gulls sailed to and fro above the Mong as if they rejoiced in the +fierce gusts of northern wind; the vessels shortened sail, or ran under +bare poles. The wind shook the village windows, and poured dry leaves +in every porch, and swept up the world generally--not much to the +comfort of the same. In Mrs. Derrick's little eating-room indeed, it +was warm enough, and the floor swept after another fashion; yet even +there did the wind rush in, whenever the kitchen door opened, after +Cindy and the hot cakes. + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith after her eye had gone exploringly to the +window, the wind and the clouds,--"I wish you would give the boys only +half a day to-day!" + +"I fancy you could have your wish seconded thirty times," he said +smiling. "No--not thirty times, but perhaps twenty." + +"I don't think those wishes would be worth minding; but I think mine +is, Mr. Linden. I mean the reason of it." + +"I think yours is--if I could mind it. What is the reason, Miss Faith?" + +"I am afraid you are not quite fit for a whole day's work. In school," +she added smiling. + +"You don't know what you are asking!--if I stay at home I shall talk +nothing but French the whole afternoon." + +"Well," said Faith laughingly, "I should only be still. I could bear +that." + +"I couldn't--and you wouldn't. But you need not be uneasy, Miss +Faith--I must not be at home." + +She looked grave, but said no more. + +The wind was not more busy out of doors that day, than the people +within. Diligent and quick hands moved about in dairy and kitchen; and +a quick and diligent spirit as earnestly--(for in Faith's mind it was +all one work; _that_ was on the way to _this_)--dealt with problems and +idioms in the study room that Faith liked best and where she was most +secure. But long enough before dinner she was helping Mrs. Derrick in +the kitchen again. + +"Mother," she said, "you can't think how I dread to see Mr. Linden come +home to-day! He won't speak one word of English to me." + +"I guess he would, if you wouldn't speak one word of French to him," +said Mrs. Derrick sagaciously. "What are you afraid of, child?" + +"I am afraid just of that," said Faith sighing. "Of having to speak +those French words." + +"Why you've been reading them to him, I'm sure," said her mother. "I +didn't know anybody was afraid of him but me, Faith. But if you don't +like it, why don't you tell him so?" + +Faith however negatived that proposition with a dubious shake of the +head; which meant, probably, that neither Mr. Linden nor herself would +be satisfied with such a mode of procedure; and confined her present +attentions to the dinner preparations. In which and other matters she +became so engaged that she forgot her fears; and going into the dining +room some time after with a dish in her hands and finding Mr. Linden +there, Faith asked him earnestly and with great simplicity, "how he +felt after his morning's work." Then remembering, or reminded by +something in his face, she started away like a deer before any answer +could be given; and only came back demurely with her mother,--to +receive his grave reverence and "Me voici, mademoiselle!"--given just +as if he had not seen her before. The half grave half laughing flash of +Faith's eye spoke as much of amusement as of fear; yet afraid she +certainly was, for she did not so much as speak English to her mother. +The language of the eye was all she ventured; nor that boldly. It had +to come, however, fear or no fear, the English might be dispensed with +but not the French. She could not but try to understand the remarks or +bits of in formation which were given her--sometimes gravely sometimes +laughing; and if Mr. Linden was evidently waiting for an answer--what +could she do but try that too! He was an admirable dictionary, very +quick at seeing and supplying her want of a word, and giving his +corrections of her phraseology and pronunciation so gently and by the +way, that fear partly lost itself in interest. His own speech was +singularly smooth and perfect; and whenever Faith found herself getting +frightened, she was sure to be assailed with such a volley of swift +flowing syllables, that she could do nothing but laugh,--after which +Mr. Linden would come back to the slower utterance which she could +better understand. After all, Faith's words that first time were few, +and it may safely be asserted that she did not in the least know what +she was eating, and made no sort of a dinner. Of that last fact her +instructor was well aware, but as his first "Mais mademoiselle, +mangez!" received but little attention, he postponed that point till +just as he was going away, and then made a rather stringent request to +the same effect. + +So the afternoon passed on, and blew itself out, and the sun went to +bed and night began to light her candles. Faith, standing at the window +(it was too cold to be out) saw the red gleam fading from earth and +sky, and the cold bright stars coming one by one into view. Then the +boys began to pass by,--some together and some alone; walking or +running home, or playing ball by the way. Mr. Linden's carriage was a +little behind them all, but he came at last, and gave her a bow and a +smile from the gate though she thought herself standing too far back to +be seen. + +"Now Mr. Linden," said Faith when he came in,--"I am so glad to speak +to you again! How do you do?" The question was not lightly given. + +"Miss Faith, did you finish your dinner?" + +"No--" said Faith hesitating,--"but I am going to have some tea by and +by. Aren't you well tired, Mr. Linden?" + +"Pretty well--Why didn't you?" + +"I wanted to be doing something else,"--said Faith, giving the easy +chair a little push into place, and then brightening up the fire. "I +shall have tea in here to-night, Mr. Linden. But we must wait a little +while for it, for Cindy is out. You won't be sorry to rest first." + +She was summarily, though very respectfully put in the easy chair +herself. + +"By what rule of right and wrong did you do anything else first? Do you +know, Miss Faith, I did not finish mine either--I wanted another piece +of bread, and could not get it!" + +"Why not, Mr. Linden? I am sure there was bread on the table. But I am +glad if you are hungry, for I have got something that you like. Now +please rest!" she said springing up and beginning to arrange the table. + +"I am sure I asked you for it politely," he said with a smile, as he +yielded to her "please rest." "What have you been about all day?" + +"I have been learning my lessons--and trying how well I could get on by +myself." + +"Get on by yourself?" he said rather slowly and inquiringly. "In what?" + +"In the books--in my studies, Mr. Linden." + +"Are you tired of my help, Miss Faith?" + +She gave all her eyes to the answer, both in their sweetness and their +gravity. "Do you think I could let you spend all your time upon me, Mr. +Linden, when your whole day is given to such work? I'll come to you for +help whenever I can't get on without it," she said with a smile, not +exactly an enjoying one,--"but I know I can do a good deal by myself." + +His eyes were given to the answer too, a little intently, but the smile +that followed was different. + +"I think you will let me do what I shall do, Miss Faith." + +"I suppose that!" said Faith with a bright gleam in her eyes. She went +out to see if Cindy had come back; but returned immediately, sat down +and looked gravely into the fire. + +"What is the use of startling people in that way?" Mr. Linden said, +looking at her. "I didn't know but you were going to send me to take up +my abode at Mrs. Seacomb's!" + +"Startling, Mr. Linden!" said Faith opening her eyes at him. "I said it +because I thought it was right. I didn't think it was pleasant." + +"Well," said he, "we were agreed upon that point. Now Miss Faith, as my +time is precious, and I cannot well give any of it to people who have +enough of their own--would it disturb you if I were to read aloud a +little here for my own amusement?" + +She changed her place to come nearer, without saying anything, but with +a face of quiet delight only half revealed. + +"What do you think of the relative and respective charms of Mirth and +Melancholy, Miss Faith?--I mean their charms to inward perception, not +outward sight." + +"The pleasure of them?" said Faith. + +"Yes--pleasure and satisfaction." + +"I never thought there was any pleasure in Melancholy," said Faith +smiling at the idea, but smiling inquiringly too. + +In answer, Mr. Linden opened his book and gave her the Allegro and +Penseroso,--gave them with not only a full appreciation, but with a +delicate change and suiting of voice and manner--and look, even--that +made them witching. + +And if ever a hearer was bewitched, that was Faith. She lent her ear to +the music, her eye to the eye, her thought to the thought, in utter +forgetfulness of all else. At first she listened quietly, sitting where +she was, looking sometimes at the fire, sometimes at the reader; but +then she abandoned herself to full enjoyment, left her chair for a low +seat near Mr. Linden, almost at his feet; and with upraised face and +intent eye and varying play of lip, devoured it all. Sometimes the +poetry certainly got beyond the bounds of her stock of knowledge; but +that mattered not; for whenever the reading failed, the reader filled +up all the gap and Faith listened to _him_. Precisely what it was to +have just such a hearer, was best known to the reader himself; but he +closed the book silently. Faith's comment was peculiar. + +It wasn't made at first. Her look had come round slowly to the fire and +slowly subsided. After sitting a minute so, she made her remark. + +"But Mr. Linden, none of that seemed much like Melancholy to me?" + +"That may be called the ideal of Melancholy," he said smiling. + +"What is an 'ideal'? But oh," said Faith starting up, "it is time to +have tea!--What is an 'ideal,' Mr. Linden?" + +It was impossible not to laugh a little--but equally impossible to take +that laugh amiss. + +"The particular mental standard of perfection by which every person +measures other people and things; and as that is generally more perfect +than reality, the ideal is supposed to exist only in the idea." + +She stood pondering the answer, with a somewhat humbled brow. + +"I think I know," she said shaking her head a little,--"but I shall +have to ask what exactly you mean by a _standard_, Mr. Linden. By and +by--I must see to Cindy now." + +And she ran off. Cindy presently brought in the tray; and Faith +followed, arranging and setting in order everything. The tea did not +immediately follow, perhaps the fire had got low, or Mrs. Derrick was +not ready, for Faith did not seem expectant. She stood on the rug +before the fire, looking into it very soberly and consideratively. +There was a little abstraction in her figure and air. Suddenly she +faced round where she stood. + +"Do you feel very tired indeed to-night, Mr. Linden?" + +"Not _very_--now," he said smiling. "I have been resting. I was a +little more tired than usual when I came home." + +Slowly and deliberately she came round behind his chair and stood +leaning upon the back of it. + +"Mr. Linden--I want to ask you something." + +The tone was low and peculiar. It was a very common thing for her to be +more or less moved by a little timidity; but now plainly Faith was +afraid. It changed her voice, beyond the slight sweet touch that +timidity often gave it. + +"You know I like to have you, Miss Faith." + +"I wanted to ask--if you would like,--or if you wouldn't dislike--if +you would have any objection, to read and pray at night--here, with +us,--and let Cindy and Mr. Skip come in?" + +"I will, certainly," Mr. Linden said: "how could I have any objection? +Miss Faith--will you please to come round here and sit down?--Why are +you so much afraid of me?" She did not leave her position. + +"I didn't know whether you would like it," she said in a very low +voice. "I asked mother to ask you, but she wouldn't--though she said +she would like to have you do it. I wanted it particularly for mother's +sake."--The last words were said little above a whisper. + +"I don't see where the fear came from, yet." + +She was quite still, quite motionless, behind his chair. He turned a +little, so as to see her face, and laid his hand upon hers. + +"Will you come round here and tell me, Miss Faith? I shall not let you +stand up all the evening." + +She was looking, when he saw her, with the least bit of a smile upon a +mouth all unbent, and eyes that were full; a very happy, stirred face. +It quieted down as soon as he turned; except the smile which played +rather more. + +"Tell you what, Mr. Linden?" she said not leaving her place. + +"What have I done to make myself such an ogre?" + +"What is an ogre, Mr. Linden?" + +"A ferocious sort of anomaly that everybody is afraid of." + +"I don't know what you've done, Mr. Linden," she said half laughing. "I +am not enough afraid to hurt anything." + +"Enough to hurt me--I don't care about any other thing." + +A grave glance of her eye was regretful enough. + +"But it's true, Mr. Linden! I was a little afraid to ask what I wasn't +sure you would like--that was all." + +"Well," he said with a reassuring smile, as he got up and took hold of +both her hands and brought her out of position, "I am not much hurt +yet--but I desire that the fear may not increase. And therefore, Miss +Faith, I want to have you sit here in the firelight, so that I can keep +watch of it." + +She smiled, as if it were beyond his ken now, but her words went to +another point. + +"What time would you like, Mr. Linden?" + +"Whatever suits you." + +She was silent for a minute or two, with a very happy face, till the +door opened. Then she sprang up and received and placed the tea and +things which Cindy had brought in. There was a dainty supply to-night, +perhaps in consideration of Mr. Linden's first day of out-door work, +and in delicate sympathy and reward thereof. And Faith, in her happiest +mood though as quiet as a mouse, was an excellent 'ministering spirit' +of the tea-table; to-night particularly, for every sense and affection +seemed to be on the alert. + +"How do you find all the boys, after their month out of school, Mr. +Linden?" she said, when waffles and cups of tea were fairly under weigh. + +"Very glad to see me--very much afraid I should tire myself; and some a +little afraid they might share the fatigue. So things correct each +other!--if they had not shewed the last fear, I might have felt the +first." + +"How did that work?" said Faith laughing a little. + +"It _worked_--" said Mr. Linden. "Is that intelligible, Miss Faith?" + +Her smile and shake of the head said that it was. + +"Is Joe Deacon staying home yet?" said Mrs. Derrick. + +"No, he began school again to-day." + +"I wonder whether the Squire is going off again," said Mrs. +Derrick,--"or whether _he's_ going to stay home." + +"I have heard nothing of his going away." + +"You were going to tell me what exactly a 'standard' is, Mr. Linden? At +least!"--said Faith correcting herself,--"I was going to ask you." + +"There is a very intimate connexion between the two things," said Mr. +Linden smiling. "A standard, in this sense, is simply some fixed rule +of the _ought to be_, by which the _is_ must be tried. Standard coin is +that made according to the precise government regulation, and is the +test of all other in the realm, as to size, weight, and alloy. So of +standard weights and measures. For some things we have the Bible +standard,--for most, each person has his own." + +"Then Mr. Linden," said Faith, "I think my 'ideal' of Melancholy is +something disagreeable." + +"I don't believe you have any!" said he laughing. "You mean your idea, +Miss Faith." + +"Do I?" said Faith. "But perhaps you have such a thing, Mr. Linden; +isn't it disagreeable?" + +"Not at all--and besides I haven't any. But the ideal of Melancholy is +about as much like the reality, as a picture of the Tragic Muse is like +the fifth act of a tragedy." + +That Faith did not know the meaning of tragedy, was a fact which she +wisely and self-denyingly kept to herself, and for the present turned +her attention to supplying her mother with a fresh waffle. And so with +various bits of talk, tea came to an end, and Mrs. Derrick was called +out to discuss some important matter with Mr. Skip. + +"Mother," said Faith finding her opportunity, "I asked Mr. Linden, and +he will do that."--A little shadow came over Mrs. Derrick's face. + +"Well, child?" she said gently. + +"Mother--I have asked _him_,--will you speak to Mr. Skip and Cindy?" + +"I can't child--" said her mother, with the same tone and look. "I'll +go in myself, but I can't try to do any more." + +"Dear mother--" said Faith,--"I wish you would!" + +Her mother turned and kissed her, but the difficulty was clearly not +one to be overcome. The whole subject seemed to bring up some painful +association. + +"He'll call them in himself, if you ask him, child." + +"Would it be right to ask him, mother?" + +"Why yes!" said Mrs. Derrick--"I don't see why not. One of you must." + +With this thought Faith went back to the sitting-room. Clearly there +was some strong feeling against her being the one, for after a little +sober silent waiting, she spoke. + +"Mr. Linden--would you rather I should ask Cindy and Mr. Skip to come +in?--or will you?" + +He knew, better than she did, how well the question shewed her own +wish, and how simple a matter it was to him. + +"I will, Miss Faith, if you please. Is this the hour you have fixed +upon?" + +"I think so," she said,--"if you like it; because by and by they will +be sleepy." And Mr. Linden at once proceeded to the kitchen. + +A busy murmur of tongues, and bright firelight glancing from keyhole +and crevice, guided him through the narrow passage which, sooth to say, +he had never trod before, to the door of the kitchen; the latch of +which yielded on slight persuasion, and Mr. Linden walked in. Supper +was over there, too, and the dishes were washed and put away, and Cindy +with dishcloth in hand was rubbing down the kitchen table. In one +corner of the hearth sat Mr. Skip on a half bushel measure, a full corn +basket beside him, an empty one in front, his hands busy with the +shelling process; this hard work being diversified and enlivened with +the continual additions he made to a cob house on the hearth. But, cob +in hand, Mr. Skip paused when Mr. Linden came in, and looked up at this +unusual apparition from under an extraordinary hat which drooped on all +sides of his face, as if like its wearer it had long given up all idea +of keeping up appearances. The face itself was strong, shrewd, apt. And +so Mr. Skip looked at Mr. Linden. Cindy on her part, did nothing but +wring the dish cloth and shake it out again, entirely oblivious of the +greeting with which Mr. Linden favoured both parties; and she listened +to the words he said about the corn, as if they had been Greek--double +distilled. Those words were few. + +"Mr. Skip," he said then, "I think that so long as God keeps us here +together every day, we ought to thank him for it together every night. +I want you and Cindy to come into the parlour and let us begin to do it +now." + +"Hey?" said Mr. Skip, between want of understanding and want of belief +in the testimony of his ears. Mr. Linden repeated his words, with a +composed distinctness that could leave no manner of doubt. + +"Well!"--said Mr. Skip. "What do you want us for to do?" + +"Come into the parlour." + +"I s'pose we'll be to come,"--said Mr. Skip, dropping his cob and +getting up and straightening himself. "Will you have us in now?" + +"Yes," Mr. Linden answered, and led the way. + +"Go along, Cindy!" said Mr. Skip in undertone. "S'pose it don't take +fur to see into this." + +Cindy obeyed, but without seeing 'fur' into anything--even the parlour, +though she tried for it. There was not very much to see. Mrs. Derrick +(with a little shadow of recollective sorrow) had placed the old Bible +by the lamp, and now sat leaning her head on her hand and did not look +up as they came in. Faith's face was one of grave joy; but the gravity +was so quiet that the joy was beyond the ken of so dull a vision as +Cindy's. She sat with clasped hands on a low seat beyond the fire. And +Cindy at last fixed her attention upon Mr. Linden, with only an +occasional roll of her eyes towards Mr. Skip. + +It was a long time since such a service had been in that house,--a time +at first swept by a storm of sorrow, then calmed and quieted into a +stillness which had grown more and more bright, year by year. Whatever +sunshine those years had seen, came from Faith; but that other faith, +which should make even her more precious, had been unknown. And the +words of the reading and prayer to-night, were to Mrs. Derrick like the +renewing of things so long past, that she could scarce bear it; and +different as Mr. Linden was from any one she had ever known, that +Christian family likeness almost, to her feeling, transformed him. + +It was a very simple matter to him, truly,--why not?--Why should it +ever be anything else? or why, when the fear of God is on the tongue +should the fear of man be in the heart? Yet it was even more the love +of God than the fear, that his hearers perceived that night. Simple in +word and tone and manner, it was the simplicity of a feeling so full +and strong that it needed no capillary tubes of speech to carry it +upward. The prayer ended, and the retreating steps on their way along +the kitchen passage, Mrs. Derrick came up to Faith, and putting her +arms round her kissed first one cheek and then the other--then turned +and left the room. And Faith sat still, with that joy filling her heart +so full that her head bent with the weight of it. + +One other comment she was destined to hear that night. + +"I must say, Miss Faith," said Cindy, "I like these new notions +firstrate! I always did say my prayers afore I went to bed, and I'm +free to confess this saves a deal of trouble." + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + + +The quiet of that very peaceful evening was for a short time +interrupted by a call from Dr. Harrison. The doctor came, he said, to +see how Mr. Linden felt after his day's work; and to tell Faith that +his exhibition was in readiness for her and only waited a sunny day and +her presence. It was agreed that if the sun did not fail of shewing +himself the next afternoon, Faith should not. + +Tuesday was fair, and the afternoon came on brilliant with sunbeams. +But the doctor's steps did not reach Mrs. Derrick's door by some +minutes so soon as he had purposed they should. + +Passing down the main street of Pattaquasset, Dr. Harrison descried +before him the well known figure of Squire Stoutenburgh, and the less +familiar outlines of Squire Deacon. And the doctor's near approach +procured him the favour of an introduction to the latter +gentleman,--either because the Squire desired it, or because the other +Squire was tired of his companion and wanted to be off--which he was, +as soon as the introduction was over. For in Mr. Stoutenburgh's eyes +the buttonhole of Dr. Harrison's soft coat was no more precious (to say +the least) than that of his own grey Rough and Ready. + +"Squire Deacon is anxious about the state of Mr. Linden's health, +doctor," he said,--"I refer him to you." + +The doctor made a slight inclination, graceful as all his inclinations +were, but also slight; intimating that he would have the honour of +satisfying Mr. Deacon's inquiries but desired nothing more of him. + +"How's he getting along?" said Squire Deacon--feeling the social duty +thus imposed upon him. + +"There is hope that he will be restored to his pristine state of +strength in the course of a few weeks, sir." + +"A few weeks!" said Squire Deacon. "Why he's in school again, ain't he?" + +"He has gone in a carriage," said the doctor, who for some +unaccountable reason had taken a fit of perversity,--"I understand he +was in school yesterday." + +"Did you know him afore he come here, doctor?" + +"I had not that honour, sir, till I came here myself." + +"Well I never saw anybody as did," said Squire Deacon.--"I s'pose he +comes from _somewhere_." + +"I doubt it," said Dr. Harrison with the slightest possible elevation +of his eyebrows for an instant. Squire Deacon, however, was not just +the fool Dr. Harrison took him for; of which fact a little gleam in his +eyes gave notice. + +"'Taint extraordinary _you_ don't like him, doctor," he said +carelessly. "Mr. Linden's a fine man, but 'most any pair o' wheels is +one too many in some roads." + +"I never followed a wheelbarrow, sir," said the doctor. "I suppose, +from your allusion, you have. May I be honoured with your further +commands?" + +"Wheelbarrows have only one wheel, mostly," said Squire Deacon +composedly. + +"You know better than I, sir. Might I enquire why you are anxious about +the state of Mr. Linden's health?" + +"Don't know as I said I was anxious--" said Squire Deacon. "When a +man's lived in a place as long as he has, it's nothing wonderful if +folks ask whether he's going to hold on. All the women in my house +think he's dead and buried, now." + +"Ah! He's a favourite in that line, is he?" + +"Other lines just as much--for all I know," said the Squire. "Can't say +I ever just went in for all Mr. Simlins says nor all Parson Somers +says, neither,--can't help that, doctor, if he is one o' your folks." + +"What have you against him?" + +"I don't say nothing against him," said Squire Deacon,--"except he's a +fine man. Maybe you think that is." + +"Is there anything further you would like to say on any subject, sir?" + +"Not much, I guess, if _that's_ the time o' day," said Squire Deacon +looking at him with a queer little bit of a smile. "'Taint useful to +get stirred up that way, doctor, just because a man wishes you a good +journey. But I can just as easy wish you another overturn--I s'pose +you're pretty sure to get one or t'other out o' the horses. It's all +one to me--and I dare say it is to everybody else." + +"What is your name, sir?" said the doctor standing and looking at him +in a sort of mazed consideration. + +"My name's Sam Deacon,"--said the Squire with his peculiar sort of +sullen composure. "Your father and I've always been friends, anyhow." + +"Then Mr. Deacon will you have the goodness to under stand that I am +not an agent for the transaction of Mr. Linden's affairs; but as I am a +friend of his, I will inform him that you are interested in the +subject. That is all, sir?" + +"I'll go bail for the first part of that!" said Squire Deacon. "But +it's your affairs I'm talkin' of--not his'n. And I s'pose I've as good +a right as all the rest of Pattaquasset--and give no offence, neither. +I was goin' to make you my compliments, doctor--that's all; and if you +don't think you'll ever want 'em, why there's no harm done--and enough +said. All I want to know is, what do you get so stirred up for?" + +"Is that all?" said the doctor, as if he had a mind to know the whole +before giving an answer. + +"All what?" said Squire Deacon. + +"All that you wish to communicate?" + +"I haven't communicated anything yet," said the Squire. "I guess you +knew all that before." + +"Well," said the doctor, half laughing, though his expression had +changed more than once during the last five minutes,--"then my answer +is easy. In the first place, Mr. Deacon, I have no affairs--therefore +it is impossible to talk about them. In the second place, when I am in +want of your compliments I will send you mine. In the third place,--I +declare I am at a loss how to answer you; for the only thing I ever get +stirred up for, is my breakfast! Good afternoon!--" + +Staying no more civilities, the doctor made the best of his way to Mrs. +Derrick's. Faith was ready for him, and more gently with her he set out +on the road back again. It was not a time of day to meet people--one +familiar face however they did meet,--Squire Deacon. His eye did not +seek Faith's face, but rested on the doctor with full effect. + +Arrived at the Judge's house, the doctor led her to the library, and +there unlocked the door of a little cabinet room. On a table in the +window, standing in the full sunshine, was the object of their visit. +It was simply a fine little Aquarium. More delightfully new to Faith's +eyes nothing could be; as the same eyes shewed. While they explored the +wonders of the box, the doctor at his ease proceeded to unfold to her +the various meanings of them. He enlarged upon the habits and +characters of the several inmates of the Aquarium; he explained to her +the philosophy of keeping the balance of vegetable and animal life and +thereby preserving both; he told which creature lived upon which other; +what office they severally, some of them, performed for the small +section of Ocean in which they lived and its vitrified shores; and then +taking up the subject of Sea anemones, the doctor told stories, of +natural truth, that with these living specimens before her entranced +Faith out of all knowledge of place or time. Dr. Harrison asked no +more. He gave her what she liked, and with admirable tact abstained +from putting himself forward; any further than a quick eye, excellent +speech, and full and accurate mind must make themselves known, and most +gentle and graceful attention make itself felt. + +"Do you suppose," said he, when Faith was absorbedly watching the +Anemones feed,--"that Mrs. Derrick would give this thing house-room?" + +Faith looked, but half comprehending. + +"I am not always here," said the doctor carelessly, as he was supplying +another bit of flesh to the voracious flower,--"and I should like to +have it somewhere that it would be taken care of. If I left it to Sophy +for a week, I should expect to find on my return that the vegetables +and fishes had eaten up each other. Don't you admire that crab?" + +"Very much," said Faith. "This little fish is just like some of the +shells down on the shore." + +"He came from the shore somewhere," said the doctor,--"little monster! +The ocean world isn't much better than the world of earth, apparently, +Miss Derrick." + +"Do you think the earth-world is like that?" said Faith. + +"Don't you?" + +"I don't know what it is like." + +"If you will permit me to say so, I hope you never will--any further +than as you choose to make this a miniature of that. And things in +miniature--are much less," said the doctor abstractedly, looking at the +Anemone. "Would you like to have this little ocean box in your house +for awhile, Miss Faith?--it could just as well as not. Indeed it would +be rather a benefit to me." + +"O I should like it!" said Faith. "But I should be afraid of its +getting broken, Dr. Harrison." + +"I am not afraid," said he. "It would be in less danger there than +here. As I told you, Sophy neither knows nor cares anything about such +things; and she would either kill them with kindness or forget them +altogether--most likely do both alternately. But with you they would be +safe, for the simple reason that you love them." + +The sunbeams had left the window before Faith was at all aware of the +passing away of the afternoon. And then, for once to her joy, Miss +Harrison could not be found. They set out to walk home, and had got +half way when a little rush of footsteps came up behind them, and +Reuben and Sam passed by, arm in arm; or rather half by--then paused +and said good evening. + +"O have you seen Mr. Linden to-night, Dr. Harrison?" said Sam. + +"Good evening, sir!" said the doctor. "Have I the honour of knowing +you?" + +"I should think you might," said Sam, in a tone not at all +displeased--"but it don't signify much. Have you seen him to-night, +doctor?" + +"_I_ should think I might, too," said Dr. Harrison looking coolly over +the "young giant." "Allow me to observe, that 'to-night' is not come +yet." + +"Did you ever!" said Sam in an aside to Reuben, who had stood perfectly +still without speaking. "Well any time since he got home then, sir?" + +"No, sir." + +"Have you, Miss Faith?" said Reuben. + +"No, Reuben--I am just going home. What's the matter?" + +"Why he fainted in school--that's all," said Sam,--"he said there was +nothing the matter. Only we were going down to see how he got home, and +I thought maybe the doctor might tell us first." And not staying for +more words the two boys walked on a few steps, then set off and soon +ran themselves out of sight. + +The other two quickened their walk, the doctor moderating his steps +however to suit the strength of his companion. But she soon took the +lead, and Mrs. Derrick's house was reached in as short a space of time +as the ground might be travelled without a speed which Faith did not +dare assume. + +There was nothing alarming in the little parlour. Mrs. Derrick sat +knitting; Mr. Linden had been reading, but now was talking--half +laughing, half chiding--with the two boys who stood before him. Reuben +stood silent, smiling a little; Sam's energy was at work. + +Faith came in quietly, with a face to which all her quick walk had not +brought back the colour. She said nothing. But the doctor's tongue was +free. + +"Why what's this, Linden?" + +"This is--Linden," said that gentleman coolly. "No boys--go off,--I +think I can live without seeing either of you again till to-morrow. +What's the matter, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Just and precisely what I was asking," said the doctor; while Faith +glided to her mother and sitting down by her whispered enquiry. But +Mrs. Derrick knew nothing--had heard nothing, apparently. + +"It's for you to state the case--" said Mr. Linden. "You speak as if +you had a warrant of arrest in your pocket." + +"Why!" said the doctor, standing and looking down upon him,--"here's a +wind that has blown from nowhere! Do you want me to lodge information +against yourself?" + +"_I_ don't wish to lodge any." + +"Linden," said the doctor changing his tone to one of serious kindly +interest, while Faith's eyes from her more distant seat waited for the +answer,--"what is the matter? What made you faint to-day?" + +"What nonsense have those boys been talking?" said Mr. Linden--but his +look carried the charge a little beyond the range of his words. "I was +faint for awhile--not quite in a 'deadly swoond,' however." + +"That young scapegrace said and declared you had fainted." + +"They are so used to their own red cheeks, they think red is 'the only +colour,'" said Mr. Linden. "However, I believe he spoke true--but it +was nothing worth speaking of, after all." + +"What was the cause?" + +"I presumed a little upon the successful way in which I got through +yesterday--tried to do a little too much to-day, had one or two things +to try me--and so. Which of my boys do you honour with that title of +scapegrace?" + +"You mustn't do so again," said the doctor seriously. + +"There was no malice prepense to-day," said Mr. Linden. "What have you +been about all the afternoon?--I expect to hear that you have sailed up +the Great Pyramid in a canal boat, or coasted Japan in a Chinese +lantern." + +"Nearly right," said the doctor. "We have been enacting the part of the +wise men of Gotham--I can't imagine where I ever heard of them!--who +went to sea in a tub." + +"Went to see--what?--" said Mr. Linden laughing. + +"Went to Se-vast-a-pool!" said the doctor with perfect gravity. "I hope +you're better!" + +"Don't I look well?" + +"If I were to take the votes on that subject," said the doctor, "I +presume the verdict would be unanimous. But looks are +proverbially--unsatisfactory! Do you know what damage you have done me +by your exploit this afternoon?" + +"I should be very glad to hear." + +"Why you have brought me into discredit and disfavour with half +Pattaquasset, man, because I have let you go out too soon--don't you +see? Mrs. Derrick has already laid it to her account against me--which +is getting to be a score I shall never dare to foot up." + +Faith had left the room for a minute, and coming back again began to +make ready the table for tea. Dr. Harrison's eyes followed her. She was +not looking as she had looked at his anemones; quiet, sweet, and grave, +she went round gathering up the books, and arranging the cups and +plates. But the doctor, though asked, would not stay. He went off and +the tea was brought in. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "if you are half as ready for that +exercise as I am, we shall get on superbly to-night." + +She almost started. + +"You, Mr. Linden! Oh you're not fit for it!" + +"Not fit for it!--Miss Faith, how can you say that to me?" + +"Let it be so to-night, Mr. Linden!" + +"I shall do nothing of the kind, Miss Faith, by your leave. You know I +can rest here most comfortably, and make you work--after the same +fashion, I hope. I am a little afraid," he said looking at her, "that +you are working too much." + +"Why, Mr. Linden? How could I?" + +"By not keeping your studies well balanced with fresh air." + +"O no!" she said smiling. "The work is a great deal better than the +fresh air. Besides, I have been out to-day." + +"You might as well say that bread is a great deal better than water. +Yes, you have been out to-day, that is one good thing. And I shall try +to throw somewhat into that scale myself, if I live. But I want all the +books to-night, Miss Faith--and to-morrow, you know, is a half holiday, +but you need not expect to have one." + +Faith's tea went on after that in a manifestly different manner. +Expeditiously the table was cleared after tea! And if ever Faith +wrought with eager care to do perfections and save her teacher every +word and thought that could be spared, she did it then. So the exercise +was written, with most earnest guarding against anything 'german' or +'sophisticated' in her letters. Indeed Faith's handwriting, by dint of +taking pains, was fast growing into stiff correctness--not without a +certain beauty, of promise at least, but stiff still. And with all her +other lessons, of thought or memory; what earnest quick effort could do +was done that night, and done upon the back of a sound preparation. + +Mr. Linden however did not spare himself words, riot much, and care not +at all; watching and guiding his pretty scholar with equal gravity, +gentleness, and attention; rarely diverging from the business view of +the subject, unless Faith grew timid or frightened, in which case he +indulged himself with making her laugh, and so brought her back to +business again. What views Mrs. Derrick took of the two, thus engaged, +it would be hard to say; save that they were wondrous pleasant ones--a +little puzzled, a little thoughtful, loving and pleased to the last +degree. How much she studied those two faces!--not Faith herself +bestowed more care upon what she was about. But Faith came to +conclusions--Mrs. Derrick never did; wanting help from the very person +who cleared the path of learning for her daughter. His face--its +gravity, its changes--she could not read; but she liked the study. + +The doctor's plan about the Aquarium was excessively distasteful to +Mrs. Derrick. She read the meaning and grounds of it, which Faith +entirely failed to read; but then to give them to her was hardly an +advisable thing. So the Aquarium came, after a few days; and Faith +having found that Mr. Linden could give her some help, if necessary, in +the care of it, relieved her mind of all concern about the +responsibility and took the full good of the trust. In a sunny window +it was placed, and many a happy minute between the times of other +things Faith stood or sat there to watch the unfolding and shrinking +Anemones, and the restless, eager, wild lives of the other and more +distinctly animal inhabitants of this little section of Ocean. The only +uncomfortable thing about it was that other people sometimes saw it and +heard how it came there; and other people, Faith knew, drew very +ridiculous inferences from nothing. And though ridiculous they were +disagreeable. But however, she knew best how it came there and how +simple a matter it was; and it was never the way of her simplicity to +trouble itself overmuch about ridiculous things. + +Another person, it may be remarked, knew how it got there; and he found +it pleasant to come and see it some times. This was generally in the +afternoon, now, when Mr. Linden was not at home and Faith was not +occupied in household duties. Pleasant talks were held over the +Aquarium; for there was never an end of things that might be told of +old and new discoveries connected with what was in it. The +conversations diverged often to other matters, religious or scientific +as the case might be; and were clever, bright, interesting, or amusing +accordingly--and invariably. + +And so the time wore on towards the 29th. But in the fourth week of Mr. +Linden's return to school duties, Faith began to have a new lesson--or +rather she had it once and practised upon it many times. That once was +at the end of a Wednesday afternoon, in exquisite Indian summer +weather; when other subjects being dismissed for the time, Mr. Linden +gave his scholar an interesting and precise account of the process of +respiration; passing thence to the obvious benefits of fresh air, and +finally requesting her to put on her things and come out and take them. +After which, it may be observed, Faith was never heard to say that +studies were "a great deal better than fresh air,"--often as the walk +was repeated. + +The other lessons made beautiful headway. Even the French talks at +dinner. That was harder to Faith than any other trial to which she had +been put. She shrank from it with great shrinking. But the desire to +please her teacher overcame even fear. Rather than not do that,--Faith +ventured, right or wrong; and once fairly launched, of course, with his +good help and her own endeavours, soon got into smoother sailing. + +Mr. Linden and the doctor now met not often; the doctor making his +visits, as has been said, during school time. They met oftenest where +the doctor went seldomest,--in those rooms where Dr. Harrison did +sometimes let his profession call him, where Mr. Linden was drawn by +somewhat beyond profession. Sometimes this intercourse was only of the +eye,--sometimes they walked home together; the curious friendship +between them deepening, as it seemed, from all sources. + +Come home when Mr. Linden would, his room looked as if somebody had +just stepped out of it. The fire was always in its best beauty; the +hearth guiltless of ashes; the temperature genial whatever the weather +out of doors might be; the books, the papers, the table, in their +wonted order or disorder, as fresh as if dust never fell. But the fairy +of the place was always out of sight. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + + +The 29th of November came on Wednesday, which permitted Mrs. +Stoutenburgh to have her dinner at an earlier hour than would else have +been possible. To this dinner the two older guests were invited--the +boys were only to come to supper; and four o'clock was the time. + +Till near three, studies and reading were in full force, but then other +duties claimed attention. + +"If I could only sit next you at dinner, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said +as he shut up the books, "we could talk French all the time!--but there +is no hope of that. And Miss Faith--" he said as she turned to go +upstairs, "do you know that all the things on my table are not in their +proper place?" + +Very much wondering, Faith was for a moment at a loss. + +"What is wrong, Mr. Linden?" + +"I would not give it so harsh a name, Miss Faith--only I thought +perhaps you would go in there before I come up and see that all is left +just as usual,--if you would be so good." + +Faith went up, querying with herself whether Cindy could perhaps have +been in there and committed some dire damage--or _what_ it could be. + +What could it!--if ever a room was scrupulously in order, that was; and +the table--it had not been stirred, nor a book upon it, since Faith's +arranging hands had been there. Even writing implements were not laid +about, as they often were,--the table was just as usual. Unless---- + +Yes, in front of the books stood a glass of water, and therein one dark +velvet rose, truly of a "Cramoisi superieure," failing to support +itself upon its own green leaves, laid its face half coquettishly and +half wearily upon dark sprigs of heliotrope and myrtle. Thence it +looked at Faith. And Faith looked at it, with a curious smile of +recognition, and yet of doubt,--whether _that_ could possibly be what +he meant. But she was to see that all things were "left just as usual;" +it did not admit of a serious question. So lifting the glass and the +rose, Faith and it went off together. + +Faith's best dress, of course put on for this occasion, was a black +silk. She had thought that a little extravagant at the time it was got; +but Mrs. Derrick would have it. It was made with the most absolute +plainness, high in the neck, where the invariable little white ruffle +graced the white throat; but the sleeves were short, and similar white +ruffles softened the dividing line between them and the well rounded +fair arms. Her hair was as usual, her feet were as usual, only the +shoes were of fresh neatness; but when Faith had with eyes that saw +only them, not herself, fastened the rose and myrtle on the bosom of +her dress, a little figure stood there that in its soft angles and +exquisite propriety of attire would have been noted in any circle of +splendour, and might have satisfied the most fastidious lover of +elegance. Wrapped up and hooded Faith went down stairs, and Mr. Linden +put her in the Stoutenburgh carriage, which rolled off to the mansion +of the same name in a very short space of time. + +In solitary grandeur Faith was ushered into Mrs. Stoutenburgh's +bedroom, where first the fire kept her company, and then Mrs. +Stoutenburgh herself came in from another door and both unwrapped her +and wrapt her up! But when all that could be done was done, Mrs. +Stoutenburgh ran off again, and told Faith, laughing, that she hadn't +seen her yet--and was all ready for her in the parlour. Faith being +left to herself stepped out into the passage, where Mr. Linden was +standing with folded arms before a window that looked out upon the +closing November day. Faith came softly up beside him. + +"I've seen Mrs. Stoutenburgh," she said, "but she says she hasn't seen +me. Are your flowers right now, Mr. Linden?" + +"Miss Faith! why do you wear velvet shoes?"--he said turning full upon +her. "You have not been down stairs?" + +"No, certainly. I saw Mrs. Stoutenburgh up here." + +"Then shall I have the pleasure of taking you down?--I see nothing that +is not right," he added smiling. + +It was rather an odd new thing to Faith, to be taken down, or in, +anywhere. The form of having a gentleman's arm was something rather +startling. But she did not shew it. Down stairs they went, into the +glowing parlour, where Faith was met and greeted by Mrs. Stoutenburgh +de nouveau. + +"Ah Miss Faith!" said the Squire as he gave her his salutation, "how +extravagant you are to add roses to roses in that style! Don't you know +it's a waste of material?" + +"No, sir. I shall use it all up." + +"I should like to see you after you get through!" said Mr. Stoutenburgh +laughing. "Ask Mr. Linden if it's not waste." + +Mr. Linden however entirely declined to assent to any such +proposition,--nay, even hinted that if any one was to be charged with +wasting roses just then, it was the Squire himself. + +"Yes, I think so too!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh,--"but how funnily you +always see through things and turn them about!" + +"Roses are not very opaque things to see through," he answered smiling, +while Mrs. Stoutenburgh rescued Faith and putting her arm round her +drew her off towards the sofa. Where Faith was glad to get at a +distance from the rose-consumers. She felt rather nervous. + +"Where is Sam?" she asked. "This is his day, isn't it?" + +"He was here a minute ago," said his mother,--"I guess he ran off when +he heard you coming. He takes fits of being bashful once in a +while,--they don't last long. Your mother wasn't afraid to let you come +with our horses, was she?" + +"No ma'am," Faith said,--"not at all. But she hasn't got back her old +trust in horses and carriages generally. I wish she had." + +"I don't--" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh,--"they're not to be trusted +generally, child. Has your horse got well yet?" + +"Not well. Mr. Skip says he's better, but we can't use him." + +"Well I wanted to talk to you about that--Mr. Stoutenburgh's been at me +to do it this month. You know we've always got more horses on hand than +we can use--and there's one of 'em that would just suit you. Won't you +let him stand in your stable this winter?--and give Crab a chance." + +"O no, Mrs. Stoutenburgh!--thank you!" said Faith. "I dare say Crab +will get better--it won't be necessary; and you know we don't ride much +in winter. You're very kind to think of it." + +"There you are--as usual!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "I'm always afraid +to ask you anything, you keep such magnifying glasses. But now Faith, +listen to reason. Not ride in winter!--why it's the very time for +riding, if there's snow; and you could drive Jerry, or your mother +could, just as well as Crab--he's as quiet as he can be. At the same +time," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh with a little dance in her eyes, "if +anybody else drives him, he _can_ go a little faster." + +"I'll tell mother how good you are, Mrs. Stoutenburgh. It isn't my +business to give answers for her. But did you ever see me drive?" + +"Not horses," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing. + +"Not anything else, I am sure? I used to want to go after the cows, but +mother never would let me." + +But whatever Mrs. Stoutenburgh meant she did not explain, for dinner +was announced, and the Squire came up to take possession of Faith +again; receiving his wife's little whispered "I've done it!" with all +her own satisfaction. + +In the dining-room Sam was at last visible, but the bashful fit had not +gone off, and Faith's black silk was even more distracting than her +white muslin. Her greeting of him was simple enough to have been +reassuring. + +"I hope you will be as happy a great many times as you are to-day, +Sam," she said as she shook hands with him. "On the 29th of November, I +mean." + +Perhaps Sam thought that doubtful--perhaps impossible,--perhaps +undesirable. At all events his words were few; and though he was +permitted the post of honour at Faith's side, he did not do much for +her entertainment at first. + +The dinner itself, service and style and all included, was sufficiently +like the Squire and his wife. Handsome and substantial, free, +bountiful, and with a sort of laughing air of good cheer about it which +more ceremony would have covered up. There was no lack of talk, +either,--all the company having the ability therefor, and then, at +least, the inclination. But if Mr. Linden now and then called Sam out +of his abstraction, so did the Squire attack Faith; giving her a little +sword play to parry as best she might. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "do you know to what a point you are, day by +day, winding up the curiosity of this town of Pattaquasset?" + +"I, sir!" said Faith, apparently, by her eye and air, occupying the +place of the centre of motion to all this curiosity;--the point of +absolute rest. + +"My dear," said the Squire, "they say two things about you! The first +is that you never go out! Now don't trouble yourself to contradict +that, but just tell me the _reason_. We're all friends here, you know." + +"Why I go out very often indeed, Mr. Stoutenburgh!" said Faith. + +"Didn't I tell you not to contradict me? Ah Miss Faith!--young ladies +never will take advice! Well--the first thing is, as I said, that you +never go out. The second," said the Squire laughing, "is--that you do!" + +"Well sir," said Faith merrily,--"they can't both be true--and there +isn't anything very bad about either of them. Nor very curious, either, +I think." + +"What I should like to know," said Mr. Linden, "is, who keeps watch at +the gate?" + +"Squire Deacon does, for one," said Sam promptly. "I see him there +often enough." + +"When you come to relieve the guard?" said Mr. Linden smiling. And the +laugh was turned for the moment, rather to Sam's confusion. + +"So that's what the Squire's come back for, is it?" said Mr. +Stoutenburgh. "I thought somebody was to blame for his going away." + +"Nobody was _much_ to blame," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. + +"I had a long talk with Sam the other day--Sam Deacon, I mean," said +the Squire, "and he was keen to get acquainted with Dr. Harrison. And +as the doctor came along just then, I gave him a chance. I guess the +doctor blessed me for it!--I did him. By the way, Miss Faith, I s'pose +you've got acquainted with the doctor by this time?" + +"Yes sir--very well--" Faith said quietly, though she felt the ground +uneasy and unsafe. + +"Well what sort of a chap is he?--up to anything besides running away +with all he can lay his hands on?" + +"Don't you know him, Mr. Stoutenburgh?" + +"Can't say I do, Miss Faith,--it rather strikes me he's not anxious I +should." + +"How can he be anxious, sir, when you are not?" said Mr. Linden. "Isn't +that expecting too much?" + +The Squire laughed. + +"I don't expect too much of him," he said,--"and don't you expect too +little. After all, I'd as soon take a boy's mind as a man's--and he +aint popular among the boys. I thought he would be, after that +exhibition--but he aint." + +Which remark Mr. Linden knew to be true, though he did not say so. + +"Well, Mr. Stoutenburgh! if you don't like him why _do_ you talk about +him?" said his wife. "Faith--you can play blind man's buff, I'm sure?" + +"Wait a bit,--wait a bit," said the Squire--"I'm not ready to be +blinded yet, if she is. You ladies are always in such a hurry! Now Mr. +Linden and I want to have our ideas cleared up. What sort of a man is +the doctor, Miss Faith? You say you know him 'very well,'--do you like +him 'very much'?" + +This shot brought Faith to a stand and obliged her, to be sure, to +'shew her colours,' which she did bravely. Nevertheless she faced the +Squire and answered steadily. + +"I like him a good deal, Mr. Stoutenburgh--in some respects very much." + +"Hum--" said the Squire, as he cut a persuasive piece of duck and put +it on her plate. "Well wouldn't you like to tell me, my dear, what you +mean by 'some respects'?--That's Mrs. Stoutenburgh's word, and I never +could find out yet." + +"I suppose it means different things in different cases," said Faith +smiling. + +"Did you ever?"--said the Squire, taking a general survey of the table, +which began with Faith and ended with Mr. Linden, "Aint that half of +creation up to anything? I tell you what, Miss Faith, if _I_'d been in +that meadow 'tother day, I'd have made Mazeppa of the doctor in no +time,--Sam hasn't learnt to put his history in practice yet. And +besides," said the Squire, with a peculiarly slow, innocent +enunciation, "he never likes to do anything that would displease Mr. +Linden!" + +"Mr. Stoutenburgh!" said his wife, though she was laughing merrily +herself, "Can't you be quiet? Faith, why don't you answer me?" + +"What, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?"--Faith turned towards her a face from which, +gentle as it was, the smile had disappeared. + +"You play blind man's buff, don't you, dear?" + +"When I can," said Faith. + +"The real question, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, whose grave unmoved +look--unmoved unless by a little fear that she might be annoyed--would +have been some help to her during her cross-examination if she had seen +it,--"the real question is, whether you are willing to play to-night." + +"I am as willing as can be," said Faith. + +"I don't know whether they'll want to play it," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, +"but they may; and Sam's never content unless I'm in the fun, whatever +it is." + +"Of course Miss Faith will play," said the Squire,--"she never refuses +to please anybody." + +"Mr. Linden said he would," said Sam. + +"But how shall you and I manage, Faith?" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. +"They'd tell us in a minute by our dresses--as there are only two of +us." + +Faith pondered this difficulty with an amused face. + +"Sam must lend us some of his jackets or coats, Mrs. Stoutenburgh. Our +heads are the worst,--or mine is--you and Sam might be mistaken for +each other." + +"But there'd be no use in Miss Faith's disguising herself," said Sam +naively, "because she's so sweet." + +"You wouldn't have her disguise that, would you, Sam?" said Mr. Linden +laughing. + +"What a boy!" said his mother,--"and what a reflection upon me!" + +"Why I meant her flowers!" said Sam,--"you needn't all laugh so. I +don't mean either that I didn't mean--" but what more he meant Sam left +unsaid, which did not much stay the laughter. + +"I will appoint two or three boys to play the part of the pigeon in +hawking," said Mr. Linden,--"Miss Faith might get tired of being +caught, if not of running away." + +"How do you know that, Mr. Linden?" she said a little archly. + +"Truly," he answered, "I know it not--but most things are possible, +even in blind man's buff. And all boys are not provided with silk +gloves. But you shall not complain of not being caught--I promise you +that." + +"Again!" she said with another soft flash of her eye, though now she +coloured. "Don't you understand, Mr. Linden, that I don't intend to let +anybody catch me?--if I can help it." + +"Miss Faith, I have the most entire confidence in your intentions!" + +Faith kept her energies for action, and said no more. And in a very +harmonious temper the whole party left the dinner table and went back +to the fire-lit parlour. All but Sam, who went to be ready for his +particular guests in another room. + +His place was presently supplied by a new-comer. There was a step in +the hall--then the parlour door opened, and a little lady with a shawl +round her shoulders, came in. + +"Good evening!" she said in a very cheery voice. "Why I didn't expect +to find so many of you! Is it a party, Mrs. Stoutenburgh,--and shall I +go away? or will you let me come in, now I've got here?" + +"Come in, come in, Miss Essie, and make it a party," said the Squire; +while Mrs. Stoutenburgh took off the shawl and answered, + +"Go away? why of course not! It's only Sam's birth-day--you're not +afraid of boys, I guess." + +"I'm not afraid of anything," said Miss Essie, and her bright black +eyes said it too. "Isn't that Mr. Linden?--yes, I thought so. And Faith +Derrick!--my! child, how you're dressed. What sort of a party have you +got, Mrs. S.?" + +"Why, boys!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, while Mr. Linden said, + +"Good evening, Miss Essie--you know I am one of them." + +"Are you? I don't know much about you, except by hearsay, you know. I +am glad you are here to-night. I shall study you, Mr. Linden." + +Mr. Linden bowed his acknowledgments. + +"Will you want my help, Miss Essie?" + +She laughed. "Come!" said she--"don't get on too fast! I am beginning +to like you already. What are the boys doing, Mrs. Stoutenburgh? Sam's +birthday, did you say?" + +"Yes, it's Sam's birthday,--I don't suppose they're doing much yet +except coming," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "What they will do, no mortal +can say." + +"And you'll let them do anything! It must be a nice thing to be a boy, +with such a mother as Mrs. Stoutenburgh, Mr. Linden." + +His "yes" came readily enough, but was unaccompanied with any other +word whatever. Mrs. Stoutenburgh's "Do hush!"--was sufficiently +energetic though very low. + +"How old is Sam?" was the instant question, as if the whisper had +referred to him. + +"O Sam can't get beyond fourteen till he's twenty," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh laughing. "I suppose by that time I sha'n't care how old +he is." + +"I know who thinks he's a handsome fellow!" said Miss Essie shaking her +head,--"and that's not you, Mrs. S. _I_ know he's a smart one, for I +pinned a blue ribband to his coat once. I wonder if he loves me +properly for it.--Faith Derrick, how come you to be here, child?" + +"Why because Mrs. Stoutenburgh asked me," said Faith, answering this +sudden address with some surprise. + +"Wrong!" said Miss Essie. "There's some mistake about it. I've just +come from hearing you talked of." + +"Whom did you hear, Miss Essie?" said the Squire. "Come--give up your +authority." + +"I was at Judge Harrison's," said Miss Essie, after a considerative +look of her black eyes at the Squire;--"and that's all I am going to +tell you, Mr. Stoutenburgh! Mr. Linden, what do you think of the +propriety of people's talking about people?" + +"I think well of the propriety, when it exists." + +"Well what do you think of its existence? Honestly, now. I want to get +at your opinion." + +"I think its existence is rather limited and precarious, Miss Essie," +said Mr. Linden smiling. "It is one of those things that may be said to +have a delicate constitution." + +"Well," said Miss Essie again, smiling too, both with lips and +eyes,--"how could people get along in such a place as Pattaquasset, for +instance, without it? People must talk. And it is so pleasant to know +that Mrs. Stoutenburgh's son Sam is fifteen years old and had a party +on his birthday; and that Mr. Linden and Miss Derrick were there and +eat roast turkey;--and to know that Miss Essie de Staff went to New +York to get a new carpet for her best room and what the new style +is;--and that Miss Faith Derrick was run away with and brought home +again, and went through adventures. How could we do without talking of +these things? Now perhaps you will say it's immoral; but I'm in favour +of a _possible_ morality; and I say, how could Pattaquasset get along +without all this?" + +"Pattaquasset could get along without some of the things, to start +with," said the Squire. "I don't know what you call 'pleasant,' Miss +Essie, but I never was so angry in my life--since some rascal told me +Mrs. Stoutenburgh was going to marry somebody else," he added laughing. + +"But I say," said Miss Essie, "how could Pattaquasset get along without +_talking_ of these things? and I ask Mr. Linden. I want to know his +opinion." + +"I will not say that it could," said Mr. Linden.--"Miss Essie, you know +Pattaquasset better than I do." + +"Well do you think there is any harm in talking of them?" + +"What do you think of the modern definition of a young lawyer, Miss +Essie--'a man who is where he has no business to be, because he has no +business where he ought to be'?" + +Miss Essie laughed, and laughed. + +"Don't Sam get along fast with his reading and writing. Mr. +Stoutenburgh?" + +"Always did--" said the Squire; "and with everything else too. What are +you talking about? I lost that. I'd gone off to that rascal--" + +Miss Essie's laugh rang out again and her eyes danced. + +"That rascal! Now for shame, Mr. Stoutenburgh! You know better. I +wonder if you never had young horses yourself, and took Mrs. +Stoutenburgh to ride, too. Now I like him very much. Mr. Linden, you +know Dr. Harrison, don't you?" + +"I should--a little." + +"Well aren't you a judge of character? Do you think he deserves to be +called a rascal?" + +But Squire Stoutenburgh prevented the answer. "I wish you'd just stop +and let me catch up with you, Miss Essie," he said. "Now before we go +any further, whoever said he _was_ a rascal?--_I_ didn't." + +"Did you mean somebody else, Mr. Stoutenburgh?" + +"That's the way you talk over pleasant things!" said the Squire. "If I +hadn't hallooed after you, Miss Essie, I should have had a challenge +from the doctor before morning--or a shot,--that's getting to be the +fashion." + +"Do you think Dr. Harrison is that kind of man?" said Miss Essie. "Mr. +Linden, what kind of man do you think he is? You can tell better than +the Squire, and I want to know." + +"Miss Essie!--he is my friend and I am his,--you cannot expect me to +give you Dr. Harrison's components--'each with its Latin label on'!" + +"Not at all! but in general, how would you characterize him, if asked +what sort of a man he was!" + +"I should perhaps decline." + +Miss Essie had no chance to push her question, for Sam came with a +demand for Mr. Linden himself, which was at once obeyed. + +A little while passed, and then Mr. Linden came back again; and walked +composedly round to the back of Faith's chair. "Mrs. Stoutenburgh," he +said, "will you let me take this lady away for five minutes?--Miss +Faith, will you come?" + +Nothing loth, if the truth must be told, Faith rose up to follow his +leading; which was out of the parlour and through the hall. + +"Miss Faith," he said as he shut the door, "have you been conjugating +the verb s'ennuyer?" + +"No," she said. "I was amused to hear you and Miss Essie talk." + +"What singular ideas people have on the question of pleasant things!" +said Mr. Linden. "Come in here, Miss Faith"--and he opened the door of +a mingled library, study room, and office--"I want to give you (before +we go any further) the whole quotation which I did not dare to give +Miss Essie, though it would not have been meant for her, if I had." And +he took down one of the books, and read-- + + "'Her eye,--it seems a chemic test, + And drops upon you like an acid; + It bites you with unconscious zest, + So clear and bright, so coldly placid; + It holds--you quietly aloof, + It holds, and yet it does not win you; + It merely puts you to the proof + And sorts what qualities are in you,' &c. + + 'There you are classified: she's gone + Far, far away into herself; + Each with its Latin label on, + Your poor components, one by one, + Are laid upon their proper shelf + In her compact and ordered mind,' &c. + + 'O brain exact, that in thy scales + Canst weigh the sun and never err, + For once thy patient science fails, + One problem still defies thy art;-- + Thou never canst compute for her + The distance and diameter + Of any simple human heart.' + +That's comforting doctrine--isn't it?" he said smiling as he put up the +book. + +"How good that is!" said Faith, as much in the spirit of enjoyment as +of criticism. But it isn't just Miss Essie. It's more like"--She +stopped. + +"Well--who? No, it is not Miss Essie." + +"I was going to say, Mrs. Somers--but it is not Mrs. Somers, either. +She is more kind than that." + +"Yes, I think so--though she keeps her kindness under lock and key, +like her sweetmeats. Miss Faith, shall I give you a loophole view of +those boys--before you venture yourself among them?" + +She said yes, with a bright face that shewed her primed for any +enjoyment, or anything else perhaps, he might propose. He knew the +house, apparently, and led her out of one door and in at another, +giving her little undertone remarks by the way. + +"I know you and I agree in some of our notions about pleasant things," +he said, "or I should not presume that you would find this one. To some +people, you know, boys are mere receivers for Latin and Greek--to me +they are separate little pieces of humanity. I study them quite as much +as they do their lessons. Now you shall see them off their guard. This +room is dark--but I know the way." + +He took her hand as he spoke, and led her through the darkness to a +spot of shaded light at the further end of the room, whence too came +laughter and voices; then drew back the curtain from a sash door and +let her look in. + +It was pleasant, as he said,--the room was glowing with light, the boys +in a knot about the fire; some sitting, some standing, one or two +couchant upon the rug. Sam was the spokesman just then--the rest +listening, interrupting, applauding; the flashing firelight shewing +such different faces! such varied indications!--they looked like a +little Congress of representatives. + +"What are they doing, Mr. Linden? Sam is having a good time!--and all +the rest of them for that matter." + +"I am not quite sure what they are doing, Miss Faith,--Sam looks as if +he might be recounting some of his own exploits--for the twentieth +time." + +"But Reuben, who never would recount one of his, is five times as much +of a man." + +"Yes,--I wonder what Miss Essie would say of the two, respectively. She +means to study me to-night, you know," he said smiling--"and I mean she +shall! There comes Mrs. Stoutenburgh--now I shall take you in." + +Not by the sash door, but round again by another way they came upon the +little company. Mrs. Stoutenburgh had been in before, and her +reappearance had not made much change in the order of things; but when +Faith came in every boy rose to his feet, and the admiring looks were +only bounded by the number of eyes. They fell back right and left as +she came on towards the fire; and once seated there in an easy chair, +those who knew her came up to pay their respects--those who did not +stood still and paid them at a distance, whispering and touching each +other with, + +"My! ain't she handsome!"-- + +All of which amused at least two of the lookers-on. One or two of the +boys Mr. Linden brought up and presented. Faith however was presently +out of her chair of state and wound in and out among them, speaking to +those whom she knew or remembered at Neanticut. She was in a little +gale of good-fellowship by the time Mr. Linden with Miss Essie returned +to the room. + +"Well!" said Miss Essie. "Now what's the first order of things? Mr. +Linden, these are all your boys, I suppose?" + +"These are all and not all, Miss Essie." + +"Yes. Do they always do what you tell them?" + +"They are extraordinary boys!" said Mr. Linden. "Not one of them has a +will of his own." + +"Oh!" said Miss Essie. "What has become of their wills? Have you stolen +them? Now I am going to put that to the proof. Sam Stoutenburgh--you +are not twenty years old yet, your mother says; have you a will of your +own?" + +"Mother says I have," replied Sam. + +"Ah!--you see!" said Miss Essie. "_You_ sir,--I know you but I don't +remember you,--your teacher says you haven't a will of your own--now is +it true? I want to know." + +"A will of my own, ma'am?" Reuben repeated, looking doubtfully from +Miss Essie to Mr. Linden. "Against whose, if you please?" + +"Well--" said Miss Essie, a little surprised, and laughing--"upon +honour, will you tell the truth?" + +"I'll try, ma'am." + +"Against Mr. Linden's. Now upon honour!--I'll go bail for you." + +The bail was not needed. Reuben's quiet "No, ma'am, and don't want to +have," was very forcible. + +"I declare!" said Miss Essie turning to Mr. Linden,--"you're a +wonderful man!--For of course Sam's word is _his mother's_ word, and +that's nothing in the circumstances. I wish I had been so happy as to +be a boy and go to school to you, Mr. Linden! All my life my trouble +has been a will of my own; and I never found anybody that could deprive +me of it." + +"Nor yourself ready to give it up?" + +"Of course! but I never could, you know. It was stronger than I." + +"I'll tell you what," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, coming up, "if you two +people want to talk any more, you've got to stand out of the +way,--Faith and I are going to have a game with these boys." + +"What sort of game?" + +"Why blind man's buff," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "Sam--go to my room and +fetch that plaid ribband that lies on the bed." + +"Now I'll tell you," said Miss Essie, "you must play this game as they +do it up at Suckiaug. Any game wants a stake, you know, Mr. +Stoutenburgh, to make it thoroughly interesting. You must play it this +way. Everybody that is caught and _found_, must answer any question the +person catching chooses to ask. And if he refuses to answer, he must +answer some other question and give a reason for it. That'll make 'em +fly round!" + +In the midst of a little general bustle that ensued, Faith was startled +at finding that her rose and myrtle were gone. The next instant a hand +presented them unceremoniously under her face, and an abrupt voice +announced, "Here's your flowers!" It was even Phil Davids who had done +it. Faith seized her flowers, and then sprang after Phil and thanked +him very gratefully; rightly hailing this civility as an omen for good. +The flowers were next bestowed carefully in a glass of water, to be in +safety till the play should be over. + +Now began the fun of robing and disrobing. The ladies pinned up their +silk skirts into order and quiet compass, and pulled on over their arms +and shoulders whatever boys' gear would fit. Faith was jaunty in a +little cloth jacket which covered her arms; Miss Essie wrapped about +her a plaid travelling shawl of the Squire's. Mrs. Stoutenburgh +deferred her disguising till she should need it, being in the first +place to be the catcher, not the caught. Mr. Linden on his part chose +to rely on his own resources for safety, but two or three of the boys +tied on shawls and scarfs--soon discarded in the melee. + +If Sam's intent was to have a steady game of running, never to produce +results--unless fatigue and laughter--he had well chosen the first +'catcher.' Mrs. Stoutenburgh's powers of entanglement lay not in that +line, though she ran about with the most utter good will and merriment. +But how the boys jumped over her arms!--or dived under them! How Sam +caught her round the waist, and even kissed her, regardless of danger! +She might have been playing till this time, if Mr. Linden had not +interposed and gallantly suffered himself to be caught. + +"We'll have to step round now, I tell _you!_" said one of the +boys,--"this'll be another guess sort of a run!" + +"Look out for yourself now, Miss Faith!" said Reuben--both which things +were profoundly true and necessary. And Faith soon found out that she +was the quarry--and that pigeons were of no avail. Whether Mr. Linden +had heard her steps about his sick room till he had learned them by +heart,--whether the theory of 'spirits touching' held good in this +case,--he gave her a swift little run round the room, and shut her up +gracefully in the corner. Then with the simplicity which characterized +most of his proceedings, disregarding jacket and cap, he took hold of +her hand and inquired, + +"Miss Faith--do you consider yourself disguised?" + +The soft laugh which it was impossible to keep back, answered to his +ear, as the flush which overspread Faith's face answered to eyes of the +rest of the company. + +"That will do to begin with," he said as he took off the plaid ribband, +while Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughed and clapped her hands after her own +lively fashion. + +"But Miss Faith!" said Sam--"don't tie up your head, please!--if you +shut your eyes it will do just as well." + +"You can't see her eyes if they're shut, you foolish boy," said Mr. +Linden,--"go off and attend to your own affairs. Miss Faith, shall I +tie this on--or do you wish for a deputy?" + +There is a great deal of character that comes out in a play! Miss Essie +might have had excellent opportunity for prosecuting her "studies," if +she had not been busy on her own score. For Faith did not play like +Mrs. Stoutenburgh. She played like herself--with a gentleness that +never overstepped delicate bounds; but her foot was light and true, and +her movements fearless and free as those of the very boys. It was a +pretty game that she played. It would have been a short one, but that +it was so hard to identify her captives. One boy after another Faith +caught,--to the feeling they were all alike! At last her hand seized an +other prize, and her voice exclaimed, Mr. Stoutenburgh! + +There was a sharp change about now between the older and the younger +people. Faith did her best not to be caught again. But after half a +dozen changes between Mr. Linden and the boys, he again had the +pleasure of investing her with the plaid ribband. + +"May I give her the question?" whispered Miss Essie at Mr. Linden's ear. + +"No indeed!" said Mr. Linden.--"Miss Faith, what is the difference +between a bird and a philosopher?" + +Somewhat to the surprise as well as amusement of the company, the +answer to this was the heartiest, merriest bit of a laugh; then she +said, + +"One looks round the corner, Mr. Linden!" + +"Well you won't see round the corner now," he said softly and laughing +as he tied on the ribband. "Miss Faith! do you mean to say I did?" + +She said "no," and ran away. But Faith was not in luck this time, for +she caught Miss Essie. And Miss Essie in a few minutes got the chance +she wanted at Faith. She wouldn't have had it, for Faith ran too well +and vanished too skilfully; but a little knot of the boys getting into +a knot just in her way and at the wrong time, Faith fell a prey. + +"Now," said her captor unbinding her ribband, "what do you think I am +going to ask you?" + +Faith was very doubtful on the subject, and waited in silence. + +"Only a matter of taste," said Miss Essie. "Who do you +think"--(speaking slowly)--"is the handsomest man in Pattaquasset?" + +The colour mounted in Faith's cheeks too distinctly to leave any room +for the doubt that no other answer was at hand. She avoided Miss +Essie's black eyes. + +"Come!" said that lady. + +"I can't tell you,"--said Faith, amid the laughter of some of the +company, which was enormous. + +"You can't!" said Miss Essie. "Now you are at my mercy. You have got to +tell me something else and give your reason. What do you think is the +best profession a man can follow?" + +"Any one is good that is used right," said Faith, looking down and +speaking with difficulty,--"but I suppose the _best_ is a minister's." + +"Why?" said Miss Essie, disappointed. + +"Because the business of that profession is to lead men to +heaven;--that of others is only to fit them for earth." + +"My dear, you're a fine girl!" said the Squire--willing Faith should +say anything that cut out Dr. Harrison. "Miss Essie, what do you mean +by asking her such a string of questions?--how can she tell who's the +handsomest man? She wouldn't like to hurt Mr. Linden's feelings by +saying me, nor to make us both mad by saying anybody else--if there was +anybody else to speak of." + +"You hush, Mr. Stoutenburgh!" said Miss Essie. "Don't you know how to +ask questions? Now Faith Derrick--run off with yourself." Faith obeyed +with a trifle less than her usual spirit; but the game presently called +it back again. Darting about, like some gentle-hearted hawk, among +those flying pigeons, she had seized one boy and another with her usual +bad success in the matter of identifying, when the boys suddenly +cleared away a little--anxious perhaps that Mr. Linden should be caught +again; for of all the players he gave _them_ the most fun. And so +effectually did they clear the way--so ineffectually did he protect +himself! that the next grasp of Faith's hand was upon his arm. And her +voice gravely announced that she knew it. + +"Now Faith!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, "do puzzle him if you can--give +him a hard question." + +"She does not want to ask me any questions," said Mr. Linden as he +untied the ribband. "You forget, Mrs Stoutenburgh, how many she can ask +every day. Now with Miss Essie the case is quite different." + +Very quiet and pleasant was the look bent on Faith,--very cool and +undisturbed the manner. "Miss Faith, are you tired?--I must be +philosophical enough to inform you that there is a shadow of +puss-in-the-corner!" + +And a very plain expression of gratitude was in her eyes and smile as +she answered, "No, I'm not tired, Mr. Linden--but I would as lieve look +on as play." + +That seemed to be the general grown-up mind; but before the looking on +had lasted long, everybody was called into another room to supper. +There the boys were left somewhat to themselves at one end of the +table, and the half dozen others stood or sat in the warm fireplace +corner at the other. Mr. Linden indeed, and Squire Stoutenburgh, were +both "boys" very often; but their returns to the ladies were frequent +and prolonged. Faith was enthroned in a great chair, and there petted +by Mrs. Stoutenburgh, while everybody brought her things by turns--a +privilege highly prized by some of the boys. Neither could Miss Essie +complain of want of attention, while Mrs. Stoutenburgh and Mr. Linden +took laughing care of each other between whiles. + +"Miss Essie," he said as he brought her a cup of coffee, "where are you +in the pursuit of knowledge?" + +Miss Essie laughed; yet not a triumphant laugh, nor even a satisfied +one; it might be considered doubtful. + +"I think," she said, "you are one of a sort I don't much understand, +Mr. Linden--perhaps because I don't know them much. Aren't you one of +what I may call the _good_ sort?" + +Faith's laugh, which was indeed very low but unavoidable, was the first +testimony. + +"I hope you may--" said Mr. Linden,--"the words sound pleasant. I am +not quite sure what they mean." + +"Ah! There you are again!" said Miss Essie. "As difficult to catch at +other things as at blind man's buff. Well I'll be frank with you, for I +don't mean to offend you. I mean, the sort of people who are called +'rigidly righteous'--people who think it incumbent on them to be better +than their neighbours." + +"O no--" said Mr. Linden,--"I quite disclaim that. I only think it +incumbent on me to be better than myself." + +"Yes, but you are one of the people I mean--aren't you?" + +"Not according to that term, Miss Essie. May I ask what you mean by the +other?" + +"Rigidly righteous?" + +"Yes." + +"Why I told you--people that pretend to be better than people in +general. People in general, you know, get on without pretending much to +be good at all: and of course it's disagreeable to be brought short up +at every turn with 'you ought not,' and 'you ought;' and whether it is +said or acted don't make much difference. Now here's this child, a +little while ago, thought she mustn't say anything was good but a +minister. + +"Do you mean Christians?" said Mr. Linden. + +"Well--" said Miss Essie, "I hope we're all _Christians_--aren't we? +We're not heathens." + +"I mean the followers of Christ. Is that what you meant? I do wear the +badge of that 'Legion of Honour.'" + +Miss Essie looked fidgeted. Faith was letting her ice-cream melt while +she listened. Mrs. Stoutenburgh in the midst of supper-table attentions +gave an anxious eye and ear to the conference, which she would not +interrupt. + +"Well now tell me what _you_ mean by that?" said Miss Essie, feeling +herself in some confusion, of terms at least. + +"Can I find plainer words? You know what was meant by a follower in the +old feudal times?" + +"No I don't," said Miss Essie beginning to sip her coffee again. "Tell +me!" + +"A follower was one who binding himself to the service his lord +required of him, thenceforth paid it--in peace or in war,--to the end +of his life. And the terms of agreement were two-fold,--fidelity on the +one side, protection on the other. 'They follow me,' says Christ, 'and +I give unto them eternal life.'" + +"Yes, but," said Miss Essie, "do you think it is required that we +should put ourselves so much out of the way to be good? I think people +were meant to enjoy themselves." + +"_I _enjoy myself--" said Mr. Linden smiling a little. "What think you +makes the lark fly circling up into the very sunbeams, singing as lie +goes?--is it duty? is it to rise above the robins and sparrows?" + +"I don't understand you!" said Miss Essie respectfully. + +"That is just the inner life of many a Christian,--his very heart-cry +is, + + 'Nearer, my God, to thee! + Nearer to thee! + E'en though it be a cross, + That raiseth me!'--" + + +"Well, you think nobody can be safe that don't live just so?" persisted +Miss Essie. + +"In whom such a life is not at least begun?--How can it be, Miss Essie? +Safe? without the blessing of God?" + +"Well there we differ," said the lady. "That's what I mean by being +rigidly righteous. I think every one must judge for himself." + +A little more erect Mr. Linden stood, drawing himself up slightly--it +was his wont sometimes under a touch of excitement, and spoke with his +deep emphasis these words-- + +"'This is life eternal, to know thee, the only true God, and Jesus +Christ whom thou hast sent.'--Miss Essie, where is your permit for free +judgment against the Bible?" + +"I didn't mean _that_," said Miss Essie, lowering her crest. "But I +mean that everybody can't be good after your strict way." + +"I am not standing up for myself, you know," said he pleasantly, "nor +denying that you have described me right; but what a follower of Christ +_ought_ to be, is no more rigid than sunlight--or than the wings of +angels. Yet both sun and angels 'always do his commandment' who made +them both." + +"Oh people can't be sunlight--nor angels neither, in this world. You're +Utopian! That's what I said." + +"They can be 'burning and shining lights,'" said Mr. Linden. "Miss +Essie, will you gainsay the Bible? Why can they not?" + +"They _can_ be--but I suppose they aren't obliged to be; or what is to +become of us all?" said Miss Essie, half seriously half defiantly. + +"That will depend upon whom we follow," he answered gravely. + +"Well now, Mr. Linden, how many people in the world are 'followers' in +the way you have described them?--and are all the rest going to +destruction? Take the people in this room now, for instance,--boys and +all here's twenty of us perhaps. How many do you suppose are here of +your way of 'following'? You're one--who's another? Stand off there, +and see whom you can get to join you!" + +"Stand off and say with Moses--'who is on the Lord's side?'--there +would be several, Miss Essie." + +"Well count up," said Miss Essie. "I suppose they have no objection to +shew themselves. You are one--who's another?" + +"I am another," said Faith, rising and setting down her ice cream. + +"You!"--said Miss Essie turning the black eyes upon her,--"you look +like it, child!" + +"You must put the 'rigid' out of your head," Mr. Linden said, with a +smile which changed as he spoke. + +"Well who else?" said Miss Essie, for some reason or other in an +impatient temper. "Tell them your definition, will you, and ask who'll +stand by you. Mrs. Stoutenburgh!--make them all stop and attend." + +"If I ask them you may think they come to please me." + +"No, no, you know how to say it. Mr. Stoutenburgh!--boys!--listen. I +want to know how many there are here of a particular kind of +people--Mr. Linden will tell you what kind." + +He spoke then--as Faith had once or twice heard him speak, sending his +voice through the room almost without raising it. + +"Miss Essie de Staff wishes to know how many there are here of a +particular kind of people--those that 'have sworn unto the Lord, and +will not go back.' Whoever is of that number will please come over to +this side." + +There was a little astonished pause. Mr. and Mrs. Stoutenburgh, just +then at the further end of the room, had moved at Miss Essie's summons, +but stopped short at the first sound of Mr. Linden's voice, and looked +in a sort of maze,--_he_ clearly was not jesting, that was all they +could make out. That too the boys saw: but for a minute they stood like +statues,--then Reuben stepped from the group and walked quietly, +deliberately, over to where Mr. Linden stood; the covenant-signing in +his face glowing with the Free Church addition--"until death!" + +One and another followed him--one after another,--Faith was surprised +to see how many: ranging themselves about Mr. Linden. But something in +it all touched him--stirred him,--something perhaps personal to himself +and them; for after the first three or four had come he looked no +more,--his eyes fell, and the firmly compressed lips could not quite +conceal their trembling. He stood as statue-like as the boys had done. + +In the interest of a moment and a scene that she never forgot, it was a +simple thing that Faith lost thought of her own standing. Perhaps Miss +Essie shared her oblivion of self for that minute; her look of uneasy +curiosity changed to a sobriety that was almost awe. Perhaps +self-recollection came back; for after eying the dumb show with +uncommonly blank black eyes, both they and she suddenly started into +action. + +"That will do," she said with voice and gesture,--"you may go +back--scatter! and be boys again. Mr. Linden, what I complain of is, +that you say _you_ are on the Lord's side and that everybody else is +not!" + +His thoughts came back slowly, as from some far distant region,--he +even turned to Faith and wheeled up a chair for her before he answered. + +"No, Miss Essie--those last words I believe I never said. But the 'Lord +knoweth them that are his'--let each one have answering knowledge for +himself." + +Miss Essie's look was not comfortable. She abandoned the point in hand, +and swallowed her cold coffee. + +"What _are_ you talking about?" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh coming up to +them. "What sort of a game was that, Miss Essie?" + +"Nothing,"--said Miss Essie. "I said I would study Mr. Linden--and I +have. I've found out two things about him." + +"I wonder if he's been studying too!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh.--"What +are the two things? Miss Essie, your coffee's just as cold as Faith's +ice is warm!--that comes of talking when you ought to be eating. Mr. +Linden--just help Mr. Stoutenburgh with that little table, please--and +I'll have the coffee-pot here and be comfortable." + +"And I shall tell Miss Essie a story about fishes," said Mr. Linden as +he obeyed. + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh sat down behind her coffee-pot, while the gentlemen +went back and forth between the two tables, bringing cups and cake and +what else was needed for this "German cotillion," as Mr. Linden called +it. During which interlude Miss Essie, after taking an observant view +of Faith, gave her a significant private admonition, that "somebody" +would not like her being there. Faith in vain endeavoured to get some +light on this dark information; Miss Essie was startling but +enigmatical, and suddenly turned from her and asked Mr. Linden "what +was the story he had promised?" + +"Not much of a _story_, though I called it one. It has to do with the +way different races of fishes _wear their bones_." + +"Well?" said Miss Essie, using her eyes; while Faith forgot her flushed +cheeks and used hers. + +"You are perhaps aware," he said smiling, "that even fishes have their +inflexible points; in other words, a region of bone _somewhere_." + +Miss Essie bowed her head, mentally ejaculating, "You have!" + +"And all the fossil tribes, as well as those which now exist, are +divided into two great classes,--those which wear their bones on the +outside, and those which wear them within. The first have a perfect +plate armour--jointed and fitted and carved, piece by piece; but the +inner framework is merely cartilaginous. The others, while they _shew_ +nothing but pliant flesh, have an internal structure of bone which can +outlast ages." + +"Curious!" said Miss Essie, eying him all the while carefully. "Then I +suppose we are all fishes!" + +"I was thinking--apropos to our talk awhile ago--of the intangible, +unseen nature of a Christian's strength. The moment his defence is worn +on the outside, that moment there is a failure of strength within. His +real armour of proof is nothing more 'rigid,' Miss Essie, than 'the +girdle of truth,' 'the breastplate of righteousness,' and 'for a helmet +the hope of salvation.'" + +"Very good armour," said Miss Essie; "but can't he wear it without +being unlike other people?" + +"_Can_ he?" + +"Look here," said Squire Stoutenburgh, "what have you been about? If +you've been studying anatomy, Mr. Linden, I'll go learn dancing!" + +And the conversation diverged. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + + +Faith pondered probably Miss Essie's enigmatical words; but she said +nothing on the subject even to her mother. Other people's words and +looks had produced their share of disturbance at the time; disturbance +that Faith did not like to recollect. And she would not recollect it, +practically. It left no trace on her face or behaviour. The simplicity +of both, unchanged in a whit, testified for her that her modesty would +not take such hints from other people's testimony, and that there was +no folly in her to be set fluttering at the suggestion. + +The next Wednesday morning was one of great promise,--fair and soft and +quiet, with November's sunshine softening November's brown dress. + +"I think, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said before he went off after +breakfast, "that you should take a short run or two, before you try +that long one to Mattabeeset." + +"A run, Mr. Linden? Didn't I have one last night?" + +"Truly yes,--but I mean on horseback. Will you take such a one to-day?" + +"Yes!" said Faith, looking different things, especially pleasure,--"but +Mr. Linden, I don't know where I am to get a horse. Crab can't go now." + +"Well, as I am to play the part of page, and run by your side," said +Mr. Linden, "I am rather glad he can't!--no disrespect to his other +good qualities. When will you be ready, Miss Faith?" + +The hour fixed upon had need to be early, for the days were short; so +though books had a little time after dinner, it was but a little. Then +the horses came; and Mr. Linden took Faith in charge, with words from +her mother that might have been very useful if they had been +needed,--which in his case they hardly were. A fact which his reply, or +the manner of it, seemed to impress upon Mrs. Derrick's mind, for she +saw them ride off with nothing but pleasure. + +Other people saw them with a variety of emotions All the boys they met +(except Sam) looked unqualified delight,--from her window Mrs. +Stoutenburgh gave them a gay wave of her hand; Miss Bezac on the +sidewalk absolutely turned to look again. They rode leisurely up the +grassy road, hardly beyond a walk at first, and it was not till the +houses grew few and the road more open, that Faith had her promised +run: which was but an easy trot, after all. + +"You must begin very gently, Miss Faith," said her companion as they +walked their horses up a little hill. "Look how those topsails mark the +water line!" + +"Yes--don't you like to see the white sails peeping over the trees? I +always do. But Mr. Linden, I don't get tired easily--you needn't be +afraid. I can go just as fast as you like." She looked enough in the +mood. + +"You know I am interested in the matter,--if I should come home +to-morrow and find you gone to sleep at midday--I should lose my French +lesson! Now you may have another run." + +This run was rather a long one, yet came to an unexpected end, for +turning a woody point in the road the two riders saw a wagon before +them, so directly in their way, that the run changed to a walk even +before they perceived that the wagon was in distress. Some bit of +harness, some pin, had given way, and the driver had dismounted to +repair damages. But moody, or intent upon his work, Faith's horse was +close upon him before he looked up--then she saw it was Squire Deacon. +He looked down again as suddenly, with only a slight motion of his hand +to his hat. + +Faith's first impulse would have been to rush on; but she checked that. +Her next would have been to wait and leave somebody else to speak +first; but she overcame that too. So it was her very clear gentle voice +that asked, + +"Are you in trouble here, Mr. Deacon?" + +The Squire had no time to give his answer, and scarce a moment wherein +to concoct it, for Mr. Linden had dismounted and now came between +Faith's horse and the wagon, with,--"What is the matter, Squire +Deacon?--can I help you?" + +The Squire looked up them, full, with a face that darkened as he looked. + +"It's you, is it?" he said slowly. "I thought it was Dr. Harrison!" + +"Can I help you?" Mr. Linden repeated--and the tone was a little +peremptory. + +Sullenly and slowly the Squire told the damage--the broken harness, the +lost lynch-pin; and let Mr. Linden take the first out of his hands, and +do what he chose with it; looking on the while--then by degrees taking +hold himself and working with him as with any other man, but throwing +off jealously the kindness of his helper's words or manner. It was a +grave kindness, certainly, but it did not belie the name. Faith sat +looking on. After awhile her voice broke the silence. + +"Did you say a lynch-pin was wanting, Mr. Deacon?" + +"There's one gone." + +"I should like to be doing something to help. Will you lend me your +knife, Mr. Deacon?--and I'll try." But that brought a hand on her +bridle. + +"I cannot trust your horse out of my sight, Miss Faith,--I will get +what is wanting." + +"There's no use in anyone's doing anything," said Squire Deacon, by way +of a settler; and the harness work went on in silence. + +Faith waited a little. + +"I am not the least afraid," she said then, leaning over her horse's +neck but speaking no name. "There's a place only a little way back +where I think I can get a lynch-pin,--if _anybody_ will lend me a +knife. Please let me go and be doing something! I want to go." + +"This cord," said Mr. Linden, taking one up from the bottom of the +wagon--"is it wanted for any special purpose, Squire Deacon?" + +"I guess if you ask Joe _he_ could tell you," said the Squire with a +glance that way. "'_Twas_ good for something, but he's tied it in forty +knots--just to see if I'd be fool enough to pick 'em out." + +"It would be very useful about this harness," said Mr. Linden,--"will +you try and get rid of the knots?"--and he handed Faith the cord, with +a smile which said she must make that do instead of the lynch-pin. + +Which Faith did not particularly like, for she had a strong hankering +for the ride back to the bushes. She dropped the bridle upon her +horse's neck, and began to exercise her patience and skill upon the +knots. + +"I wish I had a knife!" she said as she did so, "and I'd shew you that +I am not afraid." And a little colour rose in her face, which rather +grew. + +"_That's_ easy," said Squire Deacon, looking suddenly up and extending +his hand. "Here's one as'll cut through most things." Mr. Linden's head +was bent over the harness,--neither eye nor hand stirred from his work. + +"Thank you, Mr. Deacon," said Faith, feeling the blood rise to her +brow,--"but I won't go for it now.--I'll do this first." In her +confusion Faith did not see another person that joined the group, till +he was standing at her horse's side. + +"What sort of a bee are you gettin' up here on the high-way?" said Mr. +Simlins in his good-humoured growl (and he had a variety.) "What _air_ +you doin' on horse-back?" + +"There's harness to be mended here, Mr. Simlins--and I'm making rope +for it." + +"You go 'long!" said he. "Who are you makin' rope for? Give that to +me?" But Faith held fast. + +"No, Mr. Simlins, you can't have it--I am bound to get out these knots. +There is work doing round here, that perhaps you can help." + +Mr. Simlins stooped under her horse's head and went round to the other +side, and then for the first time he got a full view. + +"That's the way you perform actions!" he said; seeming too profoundly +struck to be at all wordy. "'Say and Seal' I guess you be! What's the +matter with you, Squire?" + +"If anything is, I haint heard of it," said Mr. Deacon, with the knife +lying heavy against his ribs. "Mr. Linden's turned +harness-maker--that's the last news." + +"O are you there, Mr. Simlins?" said the new mechanic, looking up from +his work. + +"Can't be more unlikely than you," said the farmer, beginning on his +part to finger the broken harness. "How _you_ come to be here passes +all my imagery. That'll do smartly. Where did you learn all trades? I +don't see, Squire Deacon, but he's as good at mendin' as you be at +marrin'. What do _you_ think?" + +"I don't see as one man has much to do with another," said Mr. Deacon +lucidly. + +"Yes, that will do," said Mr. Linden. "Now Miss Faith--give me that +cord if you please, and you shall go after the lynch-pin." + +"No," she said pleasantly,--"it'll be done in a minute--I want to +finish it." + +"When did you get back from York, Squire?" said Mr. Simlins--"and what +took you away? I haint heerd yet. I never believed you were gone _for +good_--though folks said it." + +"'Taint generally worth while to believe what folks says," replied the +Squire. "I've been back three weeks, I guess. Shouldn't wonder if I +went again though." + +"Shouldn't wonder if you did," said Mr. Simlins. "I would if I was +you--if I wanted to. Mr. Linden, it was a providential thing, that you +should come along at this idiomatical moment. There aint another man in +Pattaquasset would ha' done this so good as you." + +"There is another line of business open to me then," said Mr. Linden, +who had begun upon the other end of the piece of cord with opposition +fingers. + +"What _aint_ open to you?" said Mr. Simlins. "Do you know of anything? +Give us that cord--will you?" + +"Yes, you may have it now--the knots are all out," said Mr. Linden, as +he put the disentangled cord in the hands of Mr. Simlins and himself in +the saddle. "Now Miss Faith, you shall have a lesson in +lynch-pins--s'il vous plait." + +"You do beat all!" said Squire Deacon looking up from under his hat, +and with a voice that kept his eyes company. + +Faith looked very pretty as she turned her horse in obedience to the +intimation given her, with a somewhat demure smile and blush upon her +face. Mr. Simlins looked, as well as the Squire, with a different +expression. + +"Well, I guess you're about right!" was his answering remark. "I do +believe he can get the whip hand of most things. He's a Say and Seal +man, he says." To which, however, the Squire deigned no response. +Stooping over his harness, fingering and fitting, he was silent a +little; then spoke in a careless, half inquiring half assenting sort of +way. + +"What wonders me is, why he don't marry that girl out of hand. I reckon +she'd follow him down that road as easy as she does down others. What's +he waiting for?" + +"I guess he haint pitched upon a likely place to settle yet,"--said Mr. +Simlins, in a manner equally careless and devoid of reliable +information. Squire Deacon gave a little inarticulate reply. + +"He'd better hurry up--" he said,--"Dr. Harrison's giving chase." + +"Is he?" said Mr. Simlins. "He'll be where the dog was when he chased +the wolf--if he's spry. I shouldn't wonder." + +"O--you think he's a wolf, do you?" said Mr. Deacon. "Well--the +doctor's chance aint much the worse of that." + +"Don't look very carnivorous," said Mr. Simlins, "but I aint sure. I +wouldn't be so quick in my presumptions, Squire. You'll shoot the wrong +game one of these days--if you haint already." + +"Think so?" said the Squire. "Well, I aint after the game they are, any +way, so it don't matter to me which of 'em gets her. Most folks say +it's like to be the doctor,--_she_ seems tryin' 'em both by turns." + +The riders, on their part, had a short run back on the road they had +come, to where there was a hedge and thicket and trees together; and +Faith's horse being led close up to the side of the hedge, and she +herself provided with a knife, she was free to cut as many lynch-pins +as she chose. But at this point Faith handed back the knife. "I can't +do it half so well," she said. "I would rather you did it, Mr. Linden." + +"You would rather not do it?" he said looking at her. "Is _no_ bread +pleasant but that 'eaten in secret'?" + +Faith coloured very much. "I didn't care about _doing_ it, Mr. Linden, +except to be useful, and for the enterprise of going off for it by +myself. And I didn't care about _that_, more than two minutes." + +"You know I had a charge about you before we came out," he said, taking +the knife and bending down towards the hedge to use it. "But for +that--or a like one in my own mind--you should have had your +enterprise. There--I think that may serve the purpose." + +The lynch-pin being delivered, the riders left the distressed wagon +behind; and again the free road stretched before them; the soft air and +light filled all the way and even the brown tree stems with +pleasantness. The horses felt they had had a rest and pricked up their +ears to be in motion again, and the minds of the riders perhaps felt a +stir of the like kind. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "a German writer says, that 'one should +every day read a fine poem, look upon an excellent picture, hear a +little good music, and, if possible, speak a few sensible words.'" + +"Why do you tell that to me, Mr. Linden?" + +"I consider it my duty to keep you well informed as to yours." + +"But then!" said Faith, who by dint of trotting had got into as merry a +mood as her gentleness often wore, "I hope you will also think it your +duty, Mr. Linden, to tell me how I can _perform_ mine. Will you?" + +"Of course!--please speak a few sensible words to me at once." + +"You begin with the easiest thing!" said Faith. + +"Yes, I am generally considerate. But as it is part of my duty to hear +a little good music, I am willing you should sing first." + +Music he had, though not exactly of the specified sort; for Faith's +laugh rolled along the road, like the chafing of silver pebbles in a +brook. + +"Now for the next part," said Mr. Linden smiling. + +"I think I have done too much already," said Faith growing grave. +"Besides," she added, the corners of her mouth all alive again, "I +don't remember what the next part is, Mr. Linden." + +"Why the sensible words!--what are the most sensible you can think of +on a sudden, Miss Faith?" + +"I don't know that I could think of anything very sensible on a sudden, +Mr. Linden. Is it my duty to do it on sudden?" + +"It might be, Miss Faith. Indeed I think it is now!" + +"What would you like them to be about, Mr. Linden? and I'll try." + +"Nay, you may choose: sense is of universal application." + +"If I should say what was uppermost," said Faith, "it would be, How +very pleasant what we are doing now, is!" + +"Which part?" + +"Both parts!--Every part! One makes the other more pleasant." And +Faith's happy face looked so. + +"Very sensible words!" said Mr. Linden smiling. "I agree to them +perfectly,--which is, you know, in every mind, the great test of sense. +The picture, Miss Faith, we have before us." + +"Yes,--isn't it lovely to-day, Mr. Linden? and hasn't it been lovely +ever since we set out? Except that broken harness--and I don't think +that has hurt anything, either." + +"No, I am not sure that even the harness was much the worse. And 'it' +has been very lovely. As for the poem, Miss Faith, you cannot be +trusted with that--and must resign yourself to hearing it read. What +shall it be?" + +"I don't know," said Faith. "I know hardly any poetry, Mr. Linden, +except what I have heard you read. Will you read some, perhaps, this +evening?" + +"Yes--every evening, if you like,--if we are to follow Goethe's rule. +Just before tea is a good time, don't you think so?" + +"Yes indeed!" said Faith, whose colour rose from pure pleasure, as her +thought went back to L'Allegro and Il Penseroso. "I don't think there +is any time pleasanter for it. But they're all pleasant--I've dropped +my whip, Mr. Linden!"-- + +"I will get it for you," he said checking his horse, "if you will +promise not to run away! I am afraid of your 'enterprising' spirit, +Miss Faith." + +But her look at him was a little touched and deprecating. They turned +their horses together and went back a few steps. There was no trouble +in finding the whip, for just where it had been dropped, a boy stood +holding it on high for Faith's acceptance The boy was Phil Davids. + +"Thank you, Phil!" said Faith, surprised and grateful. + +"I see it go out of your hand," said Phil. + +"Yes," said. Mr. Linden--whose smile and word of thanks had accompanied +Faith's,--"Phil has singularly quick eyes. They have done me good +service before." + +As they turned again, Farmer Davids stood at their horses' heads. They +were just at the farmer's door, and he so entreated them to come 'in +and rest,' that there was no refusing his hospitality. It was large, +and various--Pumpkin pies and cider, and much pouring forth of +gratitude and admiration for Mr. Linden's success with Phil. + +"What have you done to that fellow?" his father remarked admiringly to +Mr. Linden. "You never see such an alteration in a boy. He +used--oncet--to talk hard words agin you, sir;--you won't mind hearing +it now; but he's come all about, and lately there's nothing to Phil's +mind can equal up to Mr. Linden. He don't _say_ much about it, sir, but +it's evident. And he's been at me and his mother this fortnight or two, +to give him something to make a present to you--the boys do, he says; +and he wants the best thing on the farm should go, and so do I, sir, if +we knowed oncet what would be most favourable. It would be a kindness, +sir, as I should be grateful for,--if you'd say what would do you most +service or be most pleasure--of anything that is on the farm;--fruit or +vegetables or dairy. We're plain folks, sir; I say what I mean. Take +some pie, Mr. Linden!--some cider, sir?" + +Answering these various questions and demands as best he might, Mr. +Linden contrived to convince Mr. Davids that Phil himself was the thing +"on the farm" that he cared most about; and his goodwill, better than +any special manifestation thereof; giving at the same time full and +grateful thanks for the other things that had come to him when he was +ill. + +"Yes," said Mr. Davids, smiling one of his grim and rare smiles,--"all +that don't help _our_ difficulty, you see. Well, Phil and I'll have to +put our heads together. But there's one person can send nothing that +will tell half his good feelings of gratefulness to you,--and that's +me." And a very unwonted softening of the stern man's eye and brow +shewed that he spoke a gentle truth. + +Kind words answered him,--words of personal kindness and interest, and +deep pleasure too; but Mr. Davids knew it was a pleasure, an interest, +a kindness, that had each (like Samuel Rutherford's hope) "a face +looking straight out unto that day!" + +Truly, "a city that is set on an hill, cannot be hid!" + +And the farmer felt it, and his manner softened, and his interest grew +more wistful and intent with every minute they stayed. + +Faith was on horseback and Mr. Linden about to follow, when Farmer +Davids arrested him with a low remark and question. + +"She's a fine-faced girl--looks as her father needn't ha' been ashamed +of her. Looks _good_--like he did. Is she going to marry the son of +Judge Harrison, sir?" + +"Dr. Harrison has told me nothing of the kind." + +"I heerd it"--said the farmer. "I didn't know nothing, how it might be. +Good day, sir! I hope you'll come again." And they trotted off at last, +with again the renewed feeling of liberty and pleasure of motion. But +the sun had descended perceptibly nearer to the horizon than he was +when they dismounted. However there was nothing to do but to ride, for +the proposed route was a circuit and they were passed the first half of +the way already. + +"That was good, Mr. Linden," said Faith. + +"Which part of it this time?" + +"I don't mean the pumpkin pie and the cider," she said smiling. + +"Do you feel rested?" + +"Oh yes! Rested and tired too. At least, quite ready to move on again." + +"Yes, so am I. But do you know Goethe left out one very important item +in his daily directions?" + +"What was that?" + +"One should, if possible, every day give some one else a little +pleasure." + +"Yes!" said Faith. "And it's so true, and so easy. How much you gave +there just now, Mr. Linden!" + +"It was rather of their taking than my giving. But Miss Faith, + + --'How necessary is it now-a-days, + That each body live uprightly in all manner ways?'" + + +"Yes, Mr. Linden! What are you thinking of?" + +"Just that--" he said smiling. "A thought of the darkness makes one +want to trim the lights. Did you ever notice, Miss Faith, that many +things which were written in a mere worldly sense, will bear a very +sweet Christian application? Take this for instance:-- + + 'Thus would I double my life's fading space, + For he who runs it well, runs twice his race. + And in this true delight, + These unbought sports, that happy state, + I would not fear nor wish my fate, + But boldly say each night,-- + To-morrow let my sun his beams display, + Or in clouds hide them; I have lived to-day.'" + + +She listened with a bright face at first; then as the quotation was +ended her face flushed, she turned her eyes away, and a grave look of +sorrow crept over her lips. But in a little while she looked again. + +"How many books do you carry about in your head, Mr. Linden?" + +"If I should tell you, Miss Faith, then you would know--and then I +could never delude you any more! Now we must quicken our pace, or we +shall scarce get our poem before tea." + +For awhile the trotting was pretty brisk, then they drew bridle again +and went gently on, but now towards the setting sun, whose bright rays +were caught and held by the white sails that gleamed here and there in +the distance. Now they met lines of cattle, driven by some bare-footed +boy or sun-bonneted girl, and ploughmen trudged along the road behind +their teams. Thicker curls of smoke from wayside chimneys spoke of +supper, and where a house stood in the shadow of some bit of forest, +lights were already gleaming from the windows. + + "How many things by season seasoned are + To their right praise, and true perfection!" + + +Which bit of excellent eulogy might also have been true of Quapaw creek +and the bridge over it, which they reached in seasonable time. Quapaw +creek was here a little bit of a river, and the bridge over it was an +insignificant little bridge--'no count,' in Squire Deacon's language. +But now, of all times in the year, the little bridge was already full +of more than it could hold, literally, for it couldn't hold what was +upon it. A heavy farm-wagon loaded with some sort of produce had got +fairly upon the bridge some hour or two before and then broken through; +men and teams had for the present deserted it, and there was the way +pretty effectually blocked up. What was to be done? They were not more +now than a mile or two from home, but to go back and round by the +nearest way would be several miles. The water was not very broad, nor +generally deep; but the banks and the bed of the stream were uneven and +strewn with rocks and stones, small and great. It was fordable, +certainly; a good rider might cross well enough; but a good rider would +scarce choose to trust an unskilful one there. What was to be done? + +"We shall have to go back, Mr. Linden," said Faith;--"and you mustn't +mind my riding fast now, or mother will be uneasy." + +Mr. Linden took the case into consideration. + +"Will you mind riding before me, Miss Faith?" + +"What, sir?" she said, not understanding. + +"Will you let me take you across?" + +"How can you, Mr. Linden?" she said, looking a little startled, and +flushing. + +"Very easily--on my horse. Stay where you are a minute, and let me try +the ford." And not waiting for an answer to that, he rode down the bank +and into the stream. It was easy enough, for a man who knew what to do +with his horse's mouth; not easy, nor perhaps safe for another. The +footing needed to be chosen by the hand of the rider; so chosen it was +good. Mr. Linden rode to the other side and came back. + +"Will you try, Miss Faith?" + +"Yes," she said, putting her horse in motion,--"I am not afraid. I will +follow you. It will be better than going round." But his horse did not +stir. + +"I shall not follow you, Miss Faith,--and yet if you cross it must be +before me. No other way is safe for you." + +"Well, we can go round, can't we?" said Faith. + +"Yes," he said,--as the sun dropped down behind the low horizon, and +the cool shade fell on everything but the tree tops. "You know it is +about six times as far. Are you afraid of my horse?" + +"No, not when you hold him. I will do just what you please, Mr. +Linden," she said, though her colour mounted. + +"Then do not be afraid of me," he said, dropping his own bridle and +gently disengaging the hand from hers. "Please take your foot out of +the stirrup, Miss Faith--" and the transfer was made in a moment: she +was lifted across the little space between the two horses, and seated +in front of Mr. Linden, and held fast. + +"Are you afraid?" he repeated, looking gravely down at her. + +"No sir.--Not a bit, Mr. Linden," she said, throwing a little more +warmth into her words, for the first had been spoken somewhat under +breath. So leaving the one horse fastened to a tree-branch, the other +set forward with his unwonted burden, which indeed at first he did not +much approve; pricking his ears, and sidling about, with some +doubtfulness of intent. But being after all a sensible horse, and +apprehending the voice and rein suggestions which were made to him, he +began to pick his way slowly and carefully among the stones on the +bank, and then through the stones in the river; setting down his feet +with great judgment and precaution, and paying no heed to the rushing +and splashing of the little stream, except by his ears--which certainly +worked, for once. And so the dangerous "pass" was soon behind them, and +Mr. Linden dismounted and lifted Faith down, and seated her on a grey +stone on the bank, while he went back for her horse. Which crossing, it +may be observed, was accomplished much quicker than the last. The +twilight was falling fast, and the little river, and the two horses as +they forded its swift current, looked shadowy enough; set off by the +white foam on both. The evening wind began its fitful stir, and swept +the dry leaves past Faith's feet, and shook the cedar boughs above her +head; and so she sat there, and watched the crossing. + +"I have had the best picture to-day, Mr. Linden," she said, when she +was placed in the saddle again. "You ought to have seen the river, and +you and the two horses coming over it, in this light, as I did. You +don't know how pretty it was. Now you'll let me ride fast, won't +you?--for mother will be looking for us." + +"As fast as you please--but after all, you have not seen _my_ picture," +he said smiling. + +Faith profited by the permission given and put her horse to a pace that +proved she was very much in earnest to prevent that "looking for them" +on Mrs. Derrick's part. She got out of the trot into a canter--or her +horse did--and then away they flew; too fast to see or be hindered by +any more friends or foes; till they drew bridle at home. + +It was too late to have the reading before tea. So to have tea as +speedily as possible was the next object. And then they adjourned to +the fire-lit sitting-room, where Faith lighted the lamp in uncertainty +whether reading or studies was to be the next move. Mr. Linden, +however, went for his book--a little old volume, of which Faith had +never taken notice; and began, without doubt, the prettiest description +of a garden that ever was written;-- + + "How vainly men themselves amaze, + To win the palm, the oak, or bays:"--etc. + + +The reader paused a moment, to tell more particularly what these leafy +honours were, and then went on. + + "Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, + And Innocence, thy sister dear? + Mistaken long, I sought you then + In busy companies of men. + Your sacred plants, if here below, + Only among the plants will grow. + Society is all but rude + To this delicious solitude." + + +At which words precisely, the spirit of contrariety opened the door and +ushered in Dr. Harrison. All _he_ saw, was Mr. Linden with a book, in +one easy-chair; Mrs. Derrick with her knitting in another; and a little +further off, Faith, sitting on her low cushion and apparently doing +nothing. Probably for that reason the doctor made up to her first. He +sat down beside her, and enquired in a low tone how the fishes were? +Faith answered that they were well; only one of them had been eaten up +by the others. + +"You are a little tired and are feeling remarkably well to-night," the +doctor went on. "What have you been doing?" + +"I have been trying to do my duty," Faith said colouring and laughing. + +"Don't you always do that?" said Dr. Harrison looking at her +enquiringly. + +"But I didn't know what it was till to-day." + +"You are doing what is very uncommon with you," said the +doctor--"fighting me with my own weapons." His smile was pleasant +though acute; but Faith coloured exceedingly. + +"I can't tell you exactly what duty I mean," she said, "but Mr. Linden +can." + +"Do you take your notions of duty from him?" + +"To-day,"--said Faith with a smile, sweet and with spirit enough too. + +"I maintain that duties are facts, not notions," said Mr. Linden. + +"Hum--" said the doctor turning,--"Now you are too quick for me. May +one not have a _notion_ of a fact?" + +"One may. What are your notions about society and solitude?" + +"Of duty in those regards?" + +"Not at all,--your notions of those facts." + +"Confused--" said the doctor,--"Incomprehensible--Melancholy--and +Distracting!" + +He had got up and assumed the position he seemed to like, a +standing-place on the rug, from whence he could look down on everybody. + +"What do you say to this?-- + + 'Two paradises were in one, + To live in Paradise alone.'-- + +I suppose that meets your 'notions.'" + +"No," said the doctor,--"not unless Eve were the paradise. And even +then, I shouldn't want her any more to myself than to let all the world +come and see that she was mine." + +"It is a grave question," said Mr. Linden, "whether paradise becomes +smaller by being divided. In other words, whether after sharing it with +Eve, Adam still retained the whole of it for himself!" + +"Just the other way!" said the doctor,--"it was doubled--or trebled. +For in the first place he had Eve; she was a second paradise;--then all +her enjoyment of paradise was his enjoyment; that was a third;--and in +short I should think the multiplication might go on ad infinitum--like +compound interest or any other series of happiness impossible to +calculate." + +"Simple interest isn't a bad thing," said Mr. Linden. + +"Yes," said the doctor with an answering flash of his eye, "but it +never contented anybody yet that could get it compound--that ever I +heard of. Does Miss Derrick understand arithmetic?" + +"Miss Derrick," said Mr. Linden, "how many angels can stand on the +point of a (darning) needle without jostling each other?" + +"Don't be deluded into thinking _that_ is arithmetic," said the doctor. +"Some of them would get their feet hurt. What duty has Mr. Linden been +persuading you to do to-day?" + +"Mr. Linden can tell," said Faith. + +Which appeal Mr. Linden answered by deliberately finishing his poem +aloud, for the benefit of the company. + + "'What wondrous life is this I lead! + Ripe apples drop about my head; + The luscious clusters of the vine + Upon my mouth do crush their wine. + The nectarine, the curious peach, + Into my hands themselves do reach. + Stumbling on melons, as I pass, + Ensnared with flowers, I fall on grass.' + + 'Here, at the fountain's sliding foot, + Or at some fruit-tree's mossy root, + Casting the body's vest aside, + My soul into the boughs does glide: + There, like a bird, it sits and sings, + Then whets and claps its silver wings; + And, till prepared for longer flight, + Waves in its plumes the various light.'" etc. + + +The doctor listened, faithfully and enjoyingly; but his finishing +comment was, + +"What a pity it is November!" + +"No," said Faith--"I think I enjoyed it better than I should in July." + +"Rousseau's doctrine," said the doctor. "Or do you mean that you like +the description better than the reality?" + +"It was the reality I enjoyed," said Faith. + +"What have you got there, Linden?" + +"Various old poets, bound up together." + +"What was that you read?" + +"Andrew Marvell's 'Garden.'" + +"It's a famous good thing!--though I confess my soul never 'glided into +the boughs' of any tree when my body didn't go along. Apropos--Do you +like to be on the back of a good horse?" + +"Why yes," said Mr. Linden, "when circumstances place me there." + +"Will you let me be a circumstance to do it? I have an animal of that +description--with almost the facility of motion possessed by Andrew +Marvell's soul. Will you try him?" + +"Can he run?" said Mr. Linden with comic demureness. + +"Fleetly. Whether _away with you_ depends, you know, on what I have no +knowledge of; but I should think not." + +"I should like to know beforehand--" said Mr. Linden in the same tone. +"However--Is it to be on simple or compound interest, doctor?" + +"I never take simple interest," said Dr. Harrison. "I want all I can +get." + +"Well if I take your horse, what will you ride alongside of me?" + +"That is easily arranged," said the doctor smiling. "This fellow is a +new-comer, comparatively, and a pet of mine. I want to know what you +think of him. When is your next time of leisure?" + +"My daylight leisure is pretty limited now. Part of Saturday I could +take." + +"Then you'll hold yourself engaged to me for Saturday morning,--and +I'll hold myself engaged to give you some thing pleasant to do with it. +The roads hereabout are good for nothing _but_ riding--you can have the +pleasure of motion, there isn't much to take your thoughts away from +it." + +"Except emotion?" + +"If you're another Marvell of a man, and can send your soul into the +boughs as you pass;--as good as stumbling on melons," said the doctor. +"Unless your horse stumbles!" + +"I see his character is coming out by degrees," said Mr. Linden smiling. + +"He's as sure-footed--as you are! Here comes emotion--in the shape of +my aunt Ellen. Isn't Mr. Linden a careful man?" he asked whimsically in +a low voice, returning to his place by Faith. The question touched +Faith's feeling of the ludicrous, and she only laughed at the doctor. +Which he liked very well. + +Mrs. Somers' errand was to invite the younger portion of the company to +spend Christmas evening with her. And having succeeded in her mission, +she made the doctor take her home. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + + +The week thereafter passed with the usual quiet business of those days. +Friday evening, however, when the lamp was lit, instead of opening her +books at once, Faith took the doctor's station on the rug. + +"Dr. Harrison has been here this afternoon, Mr. Linden; and asked me to +go with you and him in the ride to-morrow." + +"Well, Miss Faith?" + +"I was afraid at first that it might hinder the good of your ride, if I +went; but Dr. Harrison said no; and he put it so that at last I said I +would. But I am afraid of it still." + +"How did he put it?" + +"I don't know," said Faith half laughing;--"in a way that left me no +excuse; as if he thought it would be more pleasure both to you and to +him, to have me along." + +"Miss Faith, if you go, you must give me leave to keep very near you. I +trust my own care better than Dr. Harrison's. You will understand why I +do it?" Faith did not understand very well. + +"I supposed of course, Mr. Linden, you would be very near! I knew +mother would not let me go to ride with Dr. Harrison, but with you I +thought she would not be afraid." + +He looked at her a little doubtfully--as if he wanted to say something; +but whatever it might be, it was not what he did say,--a quiet + +"I will try and take care of you. Miss Faith." Which words were +afterwards enlarged upon. + +"Miss Faith, may I trust that you will not fall behind my 'fleet' horse +to-morrow?" + +"Do you mean, if he goes very fast?" said Faith, with questioning eyes. + +"His speed shall not put you to any inconvenience. Indeed it may chance +that he will be obliged to go slower than you like,--in which case, +Miss Faith, I hope your liking will change." + +The doctor came the next day in a gay mood. + +"I told you," said he, "I shouldn't be content with simple interest--I +wanted compound. I hope you approve of my addition to our plan?" + +"So far so good," Mr. Linden said smiling. + +They went out, and Mr. Linden's first move was towards the horse with +the side saddle; not with the intention of mounting him, however: but a +more particular, thorough, systematic examination of every buckle and +strap of his harness, that particular horse had never had. Then Mr. +Linden turned and held out his hand to Faith. + +She gave him hers with a facile readiness that quite precluded +interposition, and testified either that she had expected it or had +_not_ expected it; most probably the latter. Dr. Harrison bit his lips, +but that was a second's emotion; his next step was to dismiss the groom +who stood at the horse's head and take that office on himself. + +"You are more careful than is absolutely necessary in this case," said +he smiling. "This horse, Miss Faith, is the mate, I presume, of the one +Job used to take his exercise upon. I chose him for you, thinking of +Mrs. Derrick.--Give 'Stranger' to Mr. Linden!"--The last words being a +direction to the groom. + +A very different creature was Stranger! If it had been the purpose of +Dr. Harrison to give his friend so much to do with his own particular +affairs that he would have no leisure to bestow on those of other +people, he had chosen the horse at least well. A very fine and +beautiful animal, he deserved all the praise given him for facility of +motion; no feet could disdain the ground more daintily; no carriage be +more absolutely springy and soft. But the mischief and spirit of both +the runaways combined would not match his case. He did not indeed +appear to be vicious, any further than a most vehement desire to please +himself and that in all manner of eccentric ways, totally irrelevant to +the purpose of getting ahead on the road or serving the will of his +rider, might be called vice. It rather seemed the spirit of power in +full play. However it were, there was no lack of either 'motion' or +'emotion' during the first half mile of the way; for Stranger's manner +of getting over so much of the ground was continually either calling +Faith's blood into her cheeks, or driving it out from them. + +They were well matched, however, the horse and the rider,--and the +spirit of power in equal exercise. Neither did Mr. Linden seem averse +to the play--though Stranger presently found that what play _he_ +indulged in, was clearly matter of concession; his name, as regarded +his rider, soon lost its point. On the whole, the performance came as +near the 'Centaurship' declared impossible by Dr. Harrison, as most +things have in modern times; but so far as the doctor had any stake +depending upon Stranger's antics, so far he lost. Mr. Linden had never +seemed more absolutely at leisure to attend to other people's affairs, +and had rarely, it may be said, attended to them more thoroughly, than +during that 'springy' half mile. An occasional Pas seul round the +minuet of his companions, rather heightened the effect. On another +score, too, perhaps the doctor lost; for whatever efforts he made, or +_she_ made, it was simply impossible for Faith to attend to anything +else whatever with any show of consecutiveness, but the said horse and +his rider. An attention sufficiently accounted for in the first place +by the startled changes of colour in her face; latterly the colour rose +and became steady, and a little varying play of smile on lip and eye +during the third quarter of a mile attested the fact that other +"emotions" had displaced that of fear. Clearly the doctor had lost upon +Stranger. + +"How do you like him?" he said at last speaking across Faith who was +not "good" for conversation. + +"Very much." + +"I see you do--and he likes you, which is, to be sure, a correlative +position. As I see he don't fill your hands, may I impose upon you the +care of my sister? We are an uneven number you are aware, and as I +thought it desirable not to look _odd_, I gave her permission to go +with us." + +Dr. Harrison did not see--if Faith did--the tiniest bit of a glance +that sought her face while he was speaking; but nothing could be easier +than the terms in which Mr. Linden declared himself ready to take +charge of any number of ladies,--it was only equalled by Stranger's +bound the next minute. + +How dismayed one of the party was at this addition of Miss Harrison's +company, nobody guessed. They turned in at Judge Harrison's gate, and +found Miss Sophy all ready for them. But to Faith, the play was +suddenly taken out of "the play." She and Dr. Harrison set forward to +be sure, over a pleasant road, in delicious weather; the doctor was in +one of his balmiest moods; and though quietly, she was very well +mounted. It was pleasant, or would have been pleasant; but all the +while, what was Stranger doing behind her that she could not see! Then +in answering some kindly, graceful remark of the doctor's, Faith chid +herself for ungratefulness, and roused herself to give and take what +good was in her power. + +The ride was pleasant after that! The air in all its calm sweetness was +well tasted; the barren landscape, never barren to Faith's eyes, was +enjoyed at every step. Her horse went agreeably, and the talk between +her and Dr. Harrison grew interesting and enlivening. + +Meanwhile Mr. Linden's horse and his companion were at the +antipodes--of each other. Thoroughly good and estimable as Miss +Harrison was, she never left the beaten track,--and Stranger never kept +in it. Between these two opposites Mr. Linden amused himself as best he +might. To do him justice he tried his best to amuse his companion. + +Several miles of way had been passed over, when in a broad grassy reach +of the road, the two riders ahead fell back upon the rest of the party; +Faith taking Miss Harrison's side, while the doctor drew up by Mr. +Linden. + +"How does it go?" he said good humouredly. + +"What is the impersonal in this case?" said Mr. Linden, while Stranger +snorted and bounded, and by every means in his power requested the +doctor to keep at a distance. + +"A conglomerate, for which I found no better term. You, Stranger, and +my sister, and the world generally." + +"Stranger is in a sufficiently ardent mood, for his share--he gives me +a fine view of the country," said Mr. Linden, as the creature brought +himself to a tolerably erect position, and seemed to like it so well as +to be in no hurry to come down; and when he did, took the precaution to +take his hind feet off the ground before the fore feet touched. "Miss +Faith--how does this agree with your ideal of Melancholy?" + +Faith forgot to answer, or thought answers impertinent. + +"That horse frightens me out of my wits," said Miss Harrison. "I have +been jumping out of the saddle half the time, since I came out. +Sometimes he'll go very quietly--as nice as anybody--and then he'll +play such a caper as he did then. That was just because Julius came up +alongside of him. He had been going beautifully this last mile. I wish +he'd have nothing to do with such a creature!" + +"I suppose he's very pleasant to ride," said Faith eying the creature. + +Perhaps Stranger--with his full, wild eyes, took note of this look of +partial favour, for he backed a little from the doctor, and came +dancing round by Faith, and there danced along at her side for a few +minutes; evidently in an excited state of mind. His rider meanwhile, +gave Faith a quiet word of admonition about keeping so loose a rein, +and asked, in the same half undertone, if she felt tired? + +"O no!" Faith said with a look of thanks and pleasure. + +"That piece of care I must trust in your hands--don't forget that I +_do_ so trust it. How would you like to cross Quapaw creek on this +piece of quicksilver?" + +"I don't think you'd like to have me!" Faith said very decidedly. "I +never saw anything so beautiful, quite, Mr. Linden--that I recollect at +this minute," she added smiling. + +"I want to dance with you to-day--more than I ever did before," he +answered, smiling too. "Miss Faith, if you have not yet said the 'few +sensible words,' or if you have any left, won't you please say them to +me?" + +"That question comes like a constable upon all my sense," said Faith +laughing, "and it feels as I suppose a man does when he is clapped on +the shoulder." + +"But then the man cannot run away, you know." + +"Nor my sense don't," said Faith,--"that I know of,--but it feels as if +it hadn't possession of itself, Mr. Linden." + +"Well see if it is equal to this demand--What would be the consequences +if you and I were to start off and scour the country 'on our own hook,' +as people say?" + +"I think 'our hook' would draw two people after us," said Faith, +looking very much amused and a little afraid of being overheard. + +"That is a melancholy fact! And my self-indulgence needs to be kept in +check. Miss Faith," he said dropping his voice still more, "Stranger +regrets very much that he must now go through that figure of the +cotillion called 'Ladies change'!" And with a low and laughing bow, Mr. +Linden reined back his horse and returned to his former place with all +the soberness that circumstances allowed. + +There was no soberness whatever in the face with which Faith +recommenced her tete-a-tete with Miss Harrison. The doctor was +perfectly in order. + +"I have been thinking," he said, "since my question of how the world +went with you, what a very insignificant thing, as to extent, '_the +world_' of any one person is." + +"Compared with the universe," said Mr. Linden. + +"What sort of a world have you got into?" said Dr. Harrison somewhat +impatiently. "No--the actual extent of your and my consciousness--of +that field of action and perception which we magnificently call our +world! What a mighty limited field it is!" + +"I think you describe it correctly," said Mr. Linden: "it is both +mighty and limited. A little space railed off for every man--and yet +larger than that man can ever fill." + +"It seems to me too insignificant to be worth filling." + +"There is a little outlet on every side that makes it impossible to +fill!" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean, that while our action at every step touches other people, and +their consequent action moves on with like effect, the limits of our +power in this world can never be known." + +"Will you think me impertinent if I ask once more what you mean?--or +rather, ask you to enlarge a little?" + +"If a man plants the first clover seed or thistle-down in some great +continent," said Mr. Linden, "from whose little field is it, that in a +hundred years the whole land bears thistles or clover?" + +"It won't," said the doctor, "if a hundred other things are sown at the +same time. And so it seems to me in life--that one action is +counteracted by another, universally,--and nothing makes anything!--of +any avail." + +"If _nothing_ is of any avail, things don't counteract each other. You +are proving my position." + +The doctor smiled, not unpleasantly. + +"I see," he said, "you can maintain any position you choose to +take,--on the ground or in the air! I must give way to you on _this_ +ground." And Dr. Harrison reined back his horse and came into Faith's +neighbourhood. + +"Miss Derrick, the road is getting too contracted for such a +procession--will you draw bridle?" + +"I don't want to ride behind, Dr. Harrison," said Faith looking +laughingly back at him. "I'll go on in front." Which she did, so +briskly that the doctor had to bestir himself to come up with her. + +"I didn't know," he said, and he spoke somewhat in earnest,--"I didn't +know that you cared anything about eminence or preeminence." + +"Didn't you, Dr. Harrison?" + +"_Do_ you?" + +"I don't know--" said Faith gravely. "Eminence?--yes, I should care +very much for that, in some things. Not for preeminence, I think. +There's Mr. Simlins!--and I must speak to him." Faith's horse which had +been on an easy canter, came to a stand; and so must the doctor. Mr. +Simlins too was on horseback. + +"Mr. Simlins," said Faith after giving him her hand, "will you have +half a day's leisure Monday or Tuesday?" + +"Leisure?" said the farmer with his best growl--"no, I sha'n't have it +if you take it." + +"Do you think I may take it?" + +"I don't suppose there's anybody that can hinder you," said Mr. +Simlins--"without excepting my own identity. _I_ can't. Do you want to +go up yonder again?" + +The doctor interposed to make offers of his father's horses, carriage, +and servants; but Faith quietly negatived them all. + +"How did you get home the other night?" said the farmer. "Did you get +over the river?" Then shifting his ground as Miss Harrison and Stranger +came up into the group, he changed his question. + +"I say Mr. Linden!--I heerd Quapaw creek was choked up the other +night--how did you get home?" + +"The same way I expect to now," said Mr. Linden. "How did _you_, Mr. +Simlins." + +"The harness was all right," said Mr. Simlins--"if anything else was in +a disorganized state, 'twas somebody's fault besides yourn. That +lynch-pin made trouble though; it didn't fit more places than one. Did +you get across Quapaw creek on your horses?" + +"Do you suppose I crossed on foot?" said Mr. Linden smiling. "Do you +take me for a witch, Mr. Simlins?" + +"I haven't just made up my mind about that," said the farmer. "I've a +temptation to think you air. What's that you're on?" + +"Only a broomstick in disguise, Mr. Simlins. As he belongs to Dr. +Harrison, I am willing to own so much." + +"He's as well-shaped a broomstick as ever I see," said the farmer +consideratively. "I shouldn't mind puttin' him in harness. Well +good-day! I'm glad this girl didn't have to go all round again the +other night--I was afeard she had. I'll take you over creation," he +sung out after her as they parted company,--"and I'll be along Monday." + +"Quapaw creek?" said Dr. Harrison, as the interrupted procession took +up its line of march again,--"I think I remember that. What was the +matter?" + +"The bridge was broken, with a loaded wagon upon it," Faith explained. + +"And you crossed by fording?" + +"Yes." + +"Isn't it rather a difficult ford? If I remember right, the bed of the +stream is uneven and rough; doesn't it require some guiding of the +horses?" + +"I believe so--yes. It isn't safe for an ignorant rider." + +"I didn't give you credit," said he looking at her, "for being such a +horsewoman. That is quite a feat for a lady." + +Faith coloured high. But she was not going a second time to fight the +doctor "with his own weapons." A very little she hesitated, then she +said boldly, though not in very bold tones it must be confessed,-- + +"I am not a horsewoman--Mr. Linden carried me over." + +The doctor looked very moody for a few minutes; then his brow +brightened. Faith's straightforward truth had served her as well as the +most exquisite piece of involution. The doctor could not very well see +the face with which her words were spoken and had to make up his mind +upon them alone. + +"It is so!" was his settled conclusion. "She has only a child's +friendly liking for him--nothing more--or she never, simple as she is, +would have said that to me with that frankness!" + +Moodiness returned to the doctor's brow no more. He left Quapaw creek +in the distance and talked of all manner of pleasant things. And so, +with no second break of the order of march, they went on and went home. + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith when she was lighting the lamp for study in +the evening,--"you'll never ask anything of me so hard to do as that +was to-day." + +"Hard?" he replied. "Why?" + +"To keep in front, where I could not see you and that horse." + +"Miss Faith! I am very sorry!--But you know I had you in charge--I felt +bound to keep you in sight." + +"I know,"--she said; and sat down to her work. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + + +There was no more riding after that--the weather grew too cold, and +Mattabeeset was put off till spring; but with walks and talks and +reading aloud, Goethe's maxim was well carried out. For there is music +that needs no composer but Peace, and fireside groups that are not bad +pictures in stormy weather. And so December began to check off its +short days with busy fingers. + +There came a sudden interruption to all this, except December's part of +it. For a letter arrived from Miss Delia Danforth, at Pequot, begging +that Faith would come and spend a little time with her. Miss Delia was +very unwell, and suffering and alone, with the exception of her +brother's French wife; and she wrote with longing desire to see Faith. +Mr. Danforth had been some years dead, and the widow and the sister who +had lived so long together with him, since his death had kept their old +household life, in a very quiet way, without him. But now Miss Danforth +longed for some of her own kindred, or had a special liking or desire +for Faith's company, for she prayed her to come. And it was not a call +that Faith herself a moment doubted about answering. Mrs. Derrick's +willingness lingered, for various natural reasons; but that too +followed. It was clear that Faith ought not to refuse. + +The day before she was to go, Mrs. Derrick made her self unusually busy +and tired, so as to spare Faith's study-time; and thus it fell out, +that when night came and prayers were over, Mrs. Derrick went straight +to bed; partly from fatigue, partly to be ready for an early start next +day; for she was to drive Faith over to Pequot. No such need or +inducements sent Faith to bed; and the two students planned a longer +evening of work than common, to anticipate lost time. But when the +hours were about half spent, Cindy came to the door and called out, +"Miss Faith!"--Faith left her book and went to the door, which she held +open. + +"There was a boy come to-night," said Cindy, "from that old starvation +creatur' down by Barley point, and he says she's more in a box than +ever. Haint a crumb of bread for breakfast--nor supper neither, for +that." + +"Is the boy here now?" + +"Why sakes no!" said Cindy. "He come while you was to supper. I s'pose +I might ha' telled ye before, but then again I was busy bakin' +cakes--and I'm free to confess I forgot. And prayers always does turn +everything out of ray head. I can't guess how I thought of it now. Mr. +Skip's away to-night, too," said Cindy in conclusion. Faith shut the +door behind her. + +"It's too far for you to go alone. Can you find somebody to go with +you, Cindy? I'll put up a basket of things for her." + +"Aint a soul in sight--" said Cindy. "I'd as lieves go the hull way +alone as to snoop round, hunting folks." + +"Then Cindy, if you'll get ready I'll go with you. She must have +something." + +Cindy looked at her. "Guess you better get fixed first, Miss Faith. +'Taint hardly worth my while, I reckon. Who shouldn't we have after us!" + +"Just have your shawl and bonnet ready, Cindy, will you?" said Faith +gravely,--"and I'll be ready in a very few minutes." + +She went with business speed to pantry and cellar, and soon had a +sizeable basket properly filled. Leaving that in Cindy's charge, Faith +went back to the sitting-room, and came and stood by the table, and +said quietly, "I can't do any more to-night, Mr. Linden. I must be busy +in another way. I am going out for a little while." + +"May I ask--not from curiosity--with whom?" he said looking up at her. + +"With Cindy--to attend to some business she didn't tell me of in proper +time." Faith had laid her books together and was going off. Mr. Linden +rose from the table. + +"With me, if you please, Miss Faith. I will not intrude upon your +business." + +"It's no business to be intruded upon!" she said with her simple look +into his face. "But Cindy and I can do it. Please do not let me take +you away! I am not afraid--much." + +"Miss Faith, you want a great many lessons yet!--and I do not deserve +this. Don't you know that in Mrs. Derrick's absence I am guardian of +her house--and of you? I will go with you, or without you--just as you +choose," he added smiling. "If you would rather study than walk, you +shall. Is the business too intricate for me to manage?" + +"It's only to carry some things to an old woman who is in great want of +them. They can't wait till to-morrow. If you will go, Mr. Linden,--I'll +be ready in a minute. I'd like to go." + +She ran to get ready, and Mr. Linden went to the kitchen and took the +basket from Cindy, and then waited at the front door till Faith came, +and they went out into the moonlight together. A very bright moonlight, +and dark shadows--dark and still; only one of them seemed to move; but +that one made Faith glad of her change of companions. Perhaps it made +the same suggestion to Mr. Linden, for his first words looked that way. + +"Miss Faith, you did not do quite right, to-night. Don't you know--" +with a gentle half smiling tone--"you must not let _anything_ make you +do wrong?" + +Her look and tone were both very confiding, and touched with timidity. + +"Did I, Mr. Linden? I didn't mean it." + +"I know that--but you must remember for another time." And he went off +to other subjects, giving her talk and information that were perhaps +better than books. The walk was good, too; the air bracing, and the +village sights and sounds in a subsiding glimmer and murmur. The +evening out of doors was worth as much as the evening within doors +could have been. Faith thought so. The way was down the road that led +to Barley point, branching off from that. The distance to the poor +cottage seemed short enough, but if it had seemed long Faith would have +felt herself well paid--so much was the supply needed, so joyfully was +it received. The basket was left there for Mr. Skip to bring home +another time, and at a rather late hour in the evening the return walk +began. + + +The night was sharp and frosty, and still, now, with a depth of +silence. The moon, high and full, beamed down in silver splendour, and +the face of the earth was all white or black. The cold, clear light, +the sharp shadows angling and defining everything, the absolute +stillness--how well they chimed!--and chime they did, albeit +noiselessly. In that bracing air the very steps of the two homeward +bound people seemed to spring more light and elastic, and gave little +sound. They went on together with a quick even step,--the very walking +was pleasant. For a while they talked busily too,--then Thought came in +and claimed her place, and words ceased. + +They had left the turn to the belt of woods, and were now passing one +or two empty fields where low hedges made a black line of demarcation, +and the moonlight seemed even whiter than before. Faith was on the side +next the road, and both a little way out, for the walking was smoother +and dryer. + +How it was done Faith could not tell--the next two seconds seemed full +of separate things which she remembered afterwards--but her hand was +disengaged from Mr. Linden's arm, and he was standing before her and +she behind him, almost before she had fairly seen a little flash of red +light from the hedge before them. A sharp report--a powdery taint on +the sweet air, came then to give their evidence--to what? + +That second past, Mr. Linden turned, but still standing so as to shield +her, and laid both hands on her shoulders. + +"Are you hurt?" he said, in a voice lowered by feeling, not intent. + +One bewildered instant she stood mute--perhaps with no breath for +words; the next minute, with a motion too unexpected and sudden to be +hindered, lifting both hands she threw his off, bounded to one side to +be clear of him, and sprang like a gazelle towards the spot where the +red flash had caught her eye. But she was caught and stopped before she +reached it, and held still--that same shield between her and the hedge. + +"Did it touch you?" Mr. Linden repeated. + +"No--Let me! let me!"--she said eagerly endeavouring to free herself. + +He was silent a moment--a deep drawn breath the only reply; but he did +not loose his hold. + +"My dear child," he said, "you could find nothing--for what would you +go?"--the tone was very gentle, even moved. "You must walk on before me +as quick as you can. Will you promise to do it? I will keep you in +sight." + +"Before you?--no. What are you going to do? Are you touched?"--Her +voice changed as she went on. + +"I am not hurt--and mean to do nothing to-night but follow you home. +But give me your promise, Miss Faith,--you must not stand here." + +"Why in front? will they be behind us?" + +"I must have you in sight--and I will not have you near me." And +letting go his hold he said, almost imperatively, + +"I will trust you. Walk on before me!--Miss Faith, you must not delay a +moment." + +"I will go with you," she said low, and clinging to his arm.--"Your +safety is in being near me. I will not delay. Come!"-- + +But the hand was taken off again, and held in both his while he spoke. + +"I will not have you anywhere near me! If you do not walk on far in +front, I shall,--and keep watch of you as best I can." And he let go +her hand, and stepped back with a quick pace that soon put some +distance between them. She stood still a moment, looking, and then +sprang back till she reached him; speaking with a low vehemence that +did not seem like Faith. + +"I will not do it, Mr. Linden--I will not! I will not!--Come, come! +don't stay here!"-- + +Whatever Mr. Linden felt at that appeal--and he was not a man to feel +it lightly--his words lost none of their firmness. + +"I shall not stir until you are ten yards in front of me!--unless I +leave you as far behind." + +She planted herself for an instant before him and looked in his face, +with eyes of quiet but most eloquent beseeching. + +"No"--he repeated,--"you must go on and fear nothing. Child--'there is +no restraint to the Lord, to save by many or by few.'" + +She did not answer, even by the little shake of the head which +sometimes with her stood in place of words. She turned, went swiftly +forward, with a straight, even, unslackening pace, which did not falter +nor stop for a long, long piece of the way; _how_ long it was by the +mind's measurement it would be hard to tell. It was one breathless +sense of pain and fear; of which moonlight and shadows and the points +of the way all made part and were woven in together. Her ears were +tingling for that sound; her eyes only measured unconsciously the +distances and told off the waymarks. Down the little pitch of the road +where that to Barley point forked off; then by a space of clear fences +where hedgerows were not, and a barn or two rose up in the moonlight; +through gates where the post shadows were black and deep, by the +skirting bushes that now and then gathered about the rails. She walked +as fast as she could and keep her strength. That was unconsciously +measured too. It had seemed to her, in her agony of pleading before the +commencing of this strange walk, that it was _impossible_ she should do +it. She was doing it now, under a force of will that she had not been +able to withstand; and her mind was subdued and strained beyond the +power of thinking. Her very walking seemed to her mechanical; intensely +alive as her senses were all the time. There was a transient relief at +coming into the neighbourhood of a house, and a drear feeling of +desolation and increased danger as she left it behind her; but her pace +neither faltered nor flagged. She looked round sometimes, but never +paused for that. Before the more thickly settled part of the village +was reached her step grew a little slower, probably from the sheer +necessity of failing strength; but steady it was, at whatever rate of +travel. When at last they turned the sandy corner into the broad street +or main way of the village, where houses and gardens often broke the +range of hedgeway or fence, and lights spoke to lights in the +neighbouring windows, Faith stopped and stood leaning against the +fence. In another moment she was drawn away from that to a better +support. + +"Are you faint?" Mr. Linden said. + +Her "no" was faint, but the answer was true for all the rest of her. + +He drew her hand within his arm, and went on silently; but how glad he +was to see her home, Faith might guess from the way she was half +carried up the steps and into the hall, and the door shut and locked +behind her. After the same fashion she was taken into the sitting-room +and placed in the easy chair, and her wrappers unfastened and taken off +with very gentle and quick hands. She offered almost as little help as +hindrance, and her head sank immediately. + +He stood by her, and repeated his question about faintness. + +"O no, sir--I'm not faint. It's nothing," Faith said, but as if her +very voice was exhausted. And crossing her arms upon the table, close +to which the easy chair stood, she laid her head down upon them. Her +mother might well say she had a baby face. It looked so them. + +Mr. Linden's next move was to get a glass of wine, and with gentle +force and persuasion to make her swallow it; that done, he stood +leaning upon the back of her chair, silently, but with a very, very +grave face. + +She kept her position, scarcely stirring, for some length of time, +except that after a while she hid her face in her hands. And sitting +so, at last she spoke, in a troubled tone. + +"What can be done, Mr. Linden?--to put a stop to this." + +"I will try what can be done," he answered, though not as if that point +were uppermost in his mind. "I think I can find a way. I wish nothing +gave me more uneasiness than that!" + +"Do you think there is any way that you can do it, thoroughly?" + +"Yes, I think so," he repeated. "There are ways of doing most things. I +shall try. Do not you think about it, Miss Faith,--I have something now +to make me glad you are going to Pequot. Before, I could only remember +how much I should miss my scholar." + +"Why are you glad now, Mr. Linden?" Faith's voice was in as subdued a +state of mind as her face. + +"Change of air will be good for you--till this air is in a better +state." + +She made no answer. In a few minutes she rose up, gathered her wrappers +into one hand, and turning to Mr. Linden held out the other to him; +with a very child's look, which however was rather doubtful about +meeting his. His look had lost none of its grave concern. + +"Are you better?" he said. "Will you promise to go right to sleep, and +leave all troublesome matters where alone they can be taken care of?" + +The faintest kind of a smile flitted across her face. "I don't +know"--she said doubtfully,--"I don't know what I can do, Mr. Linden." + +"I have told you." + +"I'll try--the last part," she said with a somewhat more defined smile +as she glanced up at him. It was as grave and gentle a smile as is +often known. + +"You must try it all," he said, giving her hand the same touch it had +had once before. "Miss Faith, I may use your words--I think you will +never give me harder work to do than I have had to-night!" + +She could not bear that. She stood with eyes cast down, and a +fluttering quiver upon her lip; still, because the effort to control +herself was at the moment as much as she could do. It was successful, +though barely; and then, without venturing another look, she said her +low "Good night, sir"; and moved away. She was accompanied as far as +the door, but then Mr. Linden paused, with his hand on the latch. + +"Shall you take any work--I mean _book_ work--with you to Pequot?--or +will your hands find too much else to do?" + +"I meant to take some I meant to do a good deal--I hope so." + +"Then can you come back to the great chair for ten minutes, and let me +give you a word or two of direction?" + +She came immediately and sat down. And Mr. Linden went back to where +they had been interrupted early in the evening, and told her what and +where and how to go on in the various books, till she should see him +again; putting marks here and there to save her trouble, or pencilling +some explanation which might be needed. It took but a few minutes to do +this; and then Mr. Linden laid the books together, and drawing the old +Bible towards him once more, he turned to the ninety-first Psalm and +read it aloud. Read it with full heart-felt effect; which made the +words fall like the dew they are, upon the weary little flower Faith +was. Then he bade her once more goodnight. + +She went refreshed; yet to become a prey to struggling thoughts which +for a while prevented refreshment from having its lawful action. How +much of the night and of the early morning Faith spent in these +thoughts, and in the fruit of them, is uncertain; for the evening's +work would sufficiently have accounted for her worn look the next day. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + + +"Must I go to Pequot?" was the first thought that entered Faith's mind +the next morning. And the advancing daylight, with its clear steadfast +way of looking at things, said, "Yes, you must." "Is there anything +_I_--who know most about this business--can do to put an end to it?" +That was a second thrilling question. The same daylight gave its frank +answer,--"No, you cannot--you cannot." Faith took both answers, and +then sought, in the very spirit of a child, to "leave all troublesome +things where alone they could be taken care of." + +"There is a faculty in this," saith Leighton, "that all persons have +not." But the spirit of a child can do it; and the spirit of a +Christian, so far as it is right, is none other. Faith went down +stairs, in spite of inward sorrow and trembling, with a quiet brow. It +was very much the face of last night, for its subdued look, and in +spite of the night's rest, in its paleness too; though the colour +played there somewhat fitfully. Sorrowful note of that Mr. Linden took, +or the pained look of last night had not passed off from his face,--or +both might be true. So far as the most gentle, quick-sighted, and +careful attention could be of avail, the breakfast was +pleasant;--otherwise it was but a grave affair. Even Mrs. Derrick +looked from one to the other, with thoughtfulness that was not merely +of Faith's going away. + +There was little time however for observations. Directly after +breakfast the wagon was got ready; and when they were bestowed in it +and Mr. Linden's farewell had bade Faith remember all his injunctions +the night before, he turned and walked on to his own place of work and +the mother and daughter set forth on their journey. + +In a small insignificant house, in a by street of Pequot, was the +little, very odd household of the two, Miss and Madame Danforth. They +kept no servant; they lived quite to themselves; the various work of +the household they shared between them and made it as good as play; and +no worse than play seemed all the rest of their quiet lives. But Miss +Dilly was ill now and unable to do her part; and what was worse, and +more, she had lost her wonted cheerful and gay way of looking at +things. That the little Frenchwoman never lost; but it takes two to +keep up a shuttlecock, and Faith was welcome in that house. + +What work she did there for the next two or three weeks was best +known--not to herself--but to the two old ladies whose hearts she +cheered. And they knew not all; they did not know the leap of Faith's +heart at the thought of home, whenever, morning or noon or night, it +came into her head. She kept it out of her head as much as she could. + +And she went about from the top to the bottom of the house, even after +the first day she came, the same sort of sunbeam she was at home. She +took in hand Miss Danforth's broom and duster, and did Cindy's part of +setting cups and saucers; but that was a small matter. The helpful hand +which made itself so busy and the voice which ran music all up and down +the house, were never forgotten, even by the Frenchwoman. To Miss +Danforth, feeble and ailing, Faith ministered differently, and did +truly the work of an angel. More than once before the second day was +done, Miss Dilly repeated, "Faith, child, how glad I am I sent for +you!"--And Madame Danforth took to her mightily; opened heart and arms +without reservation; and delighting to have her company, carried her +down into the kitchen and initiated Faith into deep mysteries of the +science and art the head quarters of which are there. Now did Faith +learn new secrets about coffee, about eggs, about salads and about +vegetables, that she never knew before; and for some unknown reason she +was keen to learn, and liked the half hours over the kitchen fire with +Madame Danforth so well, that the little Frenchwoman grew proud of her +pupil. + +It was the third day of Faith's being at Pequot. Faith was engaged in +some gentle offices about the room, folding up clothes and putting +drawers in order. Miss Danforth's eye watched her, following every +movement, till Madame Danforth left the room to go out on business. +Faith was summoned then to her aunt's side. It was the darkening part +of the afternoon. Faith sat down at the foot of Miss Danforth's great +easy chair, looked into the fire, and wondered what they were doing at +Pattaquasset. + +"And so, Faith, child, you're taken to new ways, I hear." + +To Faith's quick ear, Miss Danforth's voice shewed a purpose. It was +less brisk than its old wont. Her answer was as simple as possible. +"Yes, aunt Dilly. It's true." + +"You don't think you're any better than you used to be--do you?" + +"No, ma'am. Yet my life is better, I hope." + +"I don't believe it! How could it be?" + +"In this at least, that I am the servant of God now. Before, I never +thought of serving him." + +"I never did," said Miss Dilly. "But"-- + +There was a silence. Faith's heart leapt to hear this confession, but +she said nothing and sat still as a mouse. + +"How's Mr. Linden getting on in Pattaquasset?" + +"Well" + +"You like him as well as ever?" + +"Yes." + +Alert questions. Rather faint answers. + +"Do you remember what he said one night, about everybody being +precious? Do you remember it, Faith?" + +"Yes, ma'am--very well." + +"I suppose I have thought of it five hundred and fifty times," Miss +Dilly went on. "What were the words, Faith? do you know 'em?" + +Faith did not move, only repeated, and if they had been literal +diamonds every word would not have seemed so precious to her,-- + +"'_They shall be mine, saith the Lord, in the day when I make up my +jewels_.'" + +"That's it!" said Miss Dilly. "Now go on, can you, Faith, and tell me +what it means." + +"It is spoken of the people that fear the Lord, aunt Dilly--it goes on-- + +"'_And I will spare them, as a man spareth his own on that serveth him. +Then shall ye return and discern between the righteous and the wicked, +between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not_.'" + +"Tell me more. Faith," said Miss Danforth presently in a subdued voice. +"I don't understand one thing about it from beginning to end." + +In answer to which Faith turned, took a Bible, and as one did of old, +preached unto her Jesus. It was very simple preaching. Faith told her +aunt the story even very much as she had told it to Johnny Fax; and +with the same sweet grave face and winning tongue which had drawn the +children. As earnest as they, Miss Dilly listened and looked, and +brought her strong sense to bear upon the words. Not with the same ease +of understanding. She said little, excepting to bid Faith 'go on,'--in +a tone that told the quest she was upon--unsatisfied yet. + +Faith went on, but preferred to let the Bible words speak instead of +her own. It brought Mrs. Custers to mind again, though this time +Faith's joy of heart made her words ring as from a sweet silver +trumpet. So they fell on the sick woman's ear; nor was there stay or +interruption till Faith heard the hall door close below. She shut the +book then; then her arm came round Miss Danforth's neck, and her kisses +spoke well enough the glad sympathy and encouragement Faith spoke in no +other way. One earnest return answered her. + +From that time, to read the Bible to her aunt was Faith's work; +morning, noon, and night, literally; sometimes far into the night. For +Miss Danforth, embracing what she had never known before, as the light +gradually broke upon her; and feeling that her time for study might be +made short, was in eager haste and longing to acquaint herself with the +broad field of duties and privileges, all new, now laid open before +her. Faith could not read too much; Miss Dilly could not listen too +long. + +"Faith, child," she said one night, late, when they were alone,--"can't +you pray for me?" + +"I do, aunt Dilly." + +"No, no! but I mean, can't you pray _with_ me?--now, here. Can't you, +Faith?" + +Faith kissed her; hid her face in her hands and trembled; and then +knelt and prayed. And many a time after that. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + + +The Saturday before Christmas, which was moreover the day but one +before, Squire Stoutenburgh went over to Pequot; and having checked off +his business items, drove straight to Madame Danforth's. The door was +opened to him by the Frenchwoman, who took him into a little room very +like herself, and left him; and in another minute or two Faith came in. +Her exclamation was with the unmistakeable tone and look of pleasure. + +"My dear, I am very glad to see you!" was part of the warm reply. "How +do you do?" + +"I do very well, sir." + +"Ah!"--said the Squire,--"I suppose so. Well I'll give you a chance to +do better. My dear, I'm going to carry you off,--you're wanted." + +"Am I?" said Faith with a quick change. "There's nothing the matter?" + +"Nothing _bad_," said the Squire. "At least I hope not! Will you go +home with me this afternoon?" + +"O yes, sir--and very glad! But did mother send for me?" + +"Sent for you if I could get you, Miss Faith. I don't suppose she'll +ever really interfere with your doings--if you choose to go and live in +the Moon, but she's half sick for the sight of you. That's prevalent +just now," said the Squire, "and she's not the worst case. The doctor +went off for fear he should take it;--but some people have duties, you +know, and can't stir." + +There was a tiny peachblossom tinge on Faith's cheek, which the Squire +was pleased to take note of. She stood with a thoughtful face the while. + +"I'll be ready, Mr. Stoutenburgh. When will you come for me?" + +The time was fixed, and Faith made her explanations to her friends; +promising that if need were she would some back again, or her mother, +after Christmas. Miss Dilly let her go very willingly, yet most +unwillingly; and Madame Danforth's reluctance had nothing to balance +it. So it was that Faith's joy had its wonted mixture of gravity when +she met the Squire again. + +"If you're not going to be glad to get home, I'm a rich man if I'll go +in with you!" he said as he put her in the sleigh and tucked her up +with shawls and buffalo robes. "That's the way!--first get power and +then abuse it." + +"Power! Mr. Stoutenburgh. What do you mean? I am very glad to go home. +Don't I look so?" She certainly did. + +"I mean that I haven't seen anybody smile since you went away," said +Mr. Stoutenburgh, proceeding to tuck himself up in like manner. "Except +Dr. Harrison. He kept himself in practice while he staid." + +Faith was silent; eying the snowy road and the jingling horse heads, +with a bounding feeling of heart that she was going home. She dared +allow it to herself now. + +"What do you guess made the doctor leave that fly-away horse of his for +Mr. Linden to tame?" said the Squire. "Has he any particular reason for +wishing to break his neck?" + +"Did he do that?" + +"Break his neck?--why no, not yet,--I suppose the doctor lives in +hopes. You take it coolly, Miss Faith! upon my word." + +"Mr. Stoutenburgh!--I meant, did he leave the horse for him. Dr. +Harrison knew there wasn't much danger, Mr. Stoutenburgh." + +Mr. Stoutenburgh touched up his own team. + +"I guess!"--he said slowly, "the doctor don't just know how much danger +there is. So Pattaquasset 'll have a chance to come down on both +feet--which that horse don't do often. We've had all sorts of goings +on, Miss Faith." + +"Have you, sir?" The question was put quietly enough, but there was a +little tinge of curiosity, too. + +"Yes," said the Squire, shaking his whip. "Sam Deacon's gone away and +Mr. Linden's grown unpopular. Aint that news?" + +"What do you mean, sir?" + +"Why Sam Deacon's gone away--" the Squire repeated coolly. "He was +getting rather too much of a sportin' character for our town, so a +friend of mine that was going to Egypt--or somewhere--took him along. +You needn't be uneasy about him--Miss Faith, he'll be taken care of. I +should have sent him a worse journey, only I was overruled." + +"And is he gone to Egypt?" said Faith. + +"Hardly got so far yet," said the Squire. "But I thought it would be +good for Sam's health--he's been a little weaker than usual about the +head lately." + +"That was only half of your news, Mr. Stoutenburgh," Faith said after +another interval of musing. + +"'Tother half's nothing wonderful. Mr. Linden's getting unpopular with +everybody in town that he don't make up to on the right side; and as +there's a good many of them, I'm afraid it'll spread. I've done _my_ +best to tell him how to quiet the matter, but you might just as well +tell a pepperidge which way to grow! Did you ever try to make him do +anything?" said the Squire, facing round upon Faith. + +The startling of Faith's eyes was like a flash; and something so her +colour went and came. The answer was a very orderly, "Yes, sir." + +"Hum--I s'pose he did it,--guess I'll come to you next time I want +anything done. Are you cold, my dear?" said the Squire renewing his +efforts at wrapping up. + +Faith's desire for Pattaquasset news was satisfied. She manifested no +more curiosity about anything; and so far as appeared in words, was +contented with her own thoughts. That however would have been a rash +conclusion. For thoughts do occupy that do not content; and Faith could +willingly have spared the hints in Mr. Stoutenburgh's last speech--and +indeed in several others. She by no means understood them thoroughly; +yet something of the drift and air of them she did feel, and felt as +unnecessary. There had been already in Faith's mind a doubtful look +towards the last evening she had spent in Pattaquasset; a certain +undefined consciousness that her action that night might have said or +seemed to say--she knew not what. She could find no fault with it, to +herself; there had been nothing that she could help; but yet this +consciousness made her more tender upon anything that touched the +subject. She had thought of it, and put it out of her head, several +times in these last weeks; and now Mr. Stoutenburgh's words had just +the effect to make her shy. Faith's mind however had been full of grave +and sweet things of late, and was in such a state now. The principal +feeling, which the Squire's words could not change, was of very deep +and joyous happiness; she was exceeding glad to go home; but at the +same time in a mood too quiet and sober for the wine of joy to get into +her head. + +Squire Stoutenburgh too seemed satisfied,--perhaps with the uncold hue +of Faith's cheeks; and now drove on at a rapid rate, talking only of +indifferent matters. The horses trotted quick over the smooth snow, and +the gathering lead colour overhead was touched with gleams of light +here and there, as the sun went down behind the Pattaquasset outlines. +Swiftly they jingled along, crossing the ferry and mounting the hill; +past trees and barns and village houses--then into the main street: +down which the horses flew with a will, thinking of oats and their good +stable, and unwillingly reined in at Mrs. Derrick's door. + +It was dark by that time--Faith could see little but the lights +glimmering in the windows, and indeed had no time to see much; so +suddenly and softly was she lifted out of the sleigh the moment it +stopped. Then Mr. Linden's voice said, + +"Thank you, Mr. Stoutenburgh!" + +"That's one way of thanking me!" said the Squire. "However--I suppose +it's all right,"--and gave his impatient horses their way. + +"Why Mr. Linden," said Faith half laughing, but with a little of the +old timidity in her voice,--"how could you see me before I saw you?" + +"For various reasons, Miss Faith. How do you do?" He led her on, into +the house and into the tea-room, there to delight her mother's heart +and make her mother's eyes overflow. + +"Pretty child!" Mrs. Derrick said,--"I never will let you go away again +for anybody!" + +Faith laughed, and kissed her and kissed her; but did not take that +moment to say what she thought--that Mrs. Derrick would have to let her +go again in a few days perhaps, and for Miss Danforth herself. Then her +eye glanced at the tea-table, as it might at an ungoverned kingdom--or +a vacated sphere; and the fulness of her heart broke out. + +"Mother!--I'm glad to be home again!" The tone said it yet more than +the words. And then with a sudden movement, she went off a step to Mr. +Linden and held out her hand to him, albeit ever so little shyly. The +hand was taken and kept, his eyes taking a quiet survey of her the +while. + +"Miss Faith, you want to be set to work! Some people will neglect +themselves if they have a chance." + +"I haven't done much work since I have been away, Mr. Linden." + +He smiled--what was he reading in her face? "You don't know what you +have done, child," he said. "But she looks glad, Mrs. Derrick,--and we +are very glad to have her." Whereupon Faith was conducted to the +tea-table without more delay; Mrs. Derrick feeling sure that she was +starving both with cold and hunger. + +Faith had no appearance of being cold; and though she certainly did eat +her supper as if she was glad to be at home, it was not with the air of +a person with whom his bread and butter is the first thought. Gladness +shone in every look and movement; but at the same time over all the +gladness there was a slight veil; it might be gravity, but it might not +be all gravity, for part of it was very like constraint; the eyes were +more ready to fall than to rise; and the words, though free to come, +had a great facility for running in short sentences. But Mrs. Derrick +was too happy to notice such light streaks of mist in the sunshine, and +talked away at a most unusual rate,--telling Faith how Mr. Linden had +ridden that 'wild horse,' and had found time to teach her little class, +and in general had done everything else--for everything seemed to hinge +upon him. Mr. Linden himself--with now and then a word to qualify, or +to make Faith laugh, took a somewhat special and quiet care of her and +her wants at the table; all which seemed to Faith (in her mood) very +like little gentle suggestions at that vail;--otherwise, he was rather +silent. + +Then followed prayers, with all the sweet warm influences of the time; +and then Faith might sit and talk or be silent, as she liked; rest +being considered the best work for that evening. It would seem that she +liked to be silent,--if that were a fair conclusion from her silence. +Her eye took happy note of the familiar things in and about the room; +then she sat and looked into the fireplace, as glad to see it again +maybe,--or doubtful about looking elsewhere. As silently, for a few +minutes, Mr. Linden took note of her: then he spoke. + +"Miss Faith, will you let me give you lessons all through the holidays?" + +She gave him a swift blushing glance and smile. "If you like to do it, +Mr. Linden--and if I am here." + +"Where do you find those two 'ifs'?" + +"I thought, perhaps, when I came away from Pequot to-day, that I might +go back again after Monday. I am afraid aunt Dilly will want me." + +"How much must people want you, to gain a hearing?" + +"There are different kinds of wanting," Faith said gravely. "Aunt Dilly +may miss me too much." + +"And the abstract 'too much,' is different from the comparative. What +about that other 'if'?" + +"The other 'if'?--I don't know that there is anything about it, Mr. +Linden," Faith said laughing. + +"Whence did it come?--before it 'trickeled,' as Bunyan says, to your +tongue?" + +"I don't know, sir!"-- + +"Miss Faith!--I did not think you would so forget me in three weeks. Do +you want to hear the story of a very cold, icy little brook?" he said, +with a sort of amused demureness that gave her the benefit of all his +adjectives. She looked up at him with earnest eyes not at all amused, +but that verged on being hurt; and it was with a sort of fear of what +the real answer might be, that she asked what he meant. + +"Miss Faith, I mean nothing very bad," he said with a full smile at her +then. "When I really think you are building yourself an ice palace, I +shall spend my efforts upon thawing, not talking. What have you been +doing all these weeks?" + +With a little bit of answering smile she said, in a deliberate kind of +way,--"I have been running about house--and learning how to cook French +cookery, Mr. Linden--and most of all, I've been reading the Bible. I +haven't had time to do much else." + +"Do you know," Mr. Linden said as he watched her, "that is just what I +thought?--And so you have been going step by step 'up the mountain'! Do +you see how the road improves?--do you find the 'richer pastures' and +the purer air?" + +"O sir," said Faith looking up at him,--"I was reading to aunt Dilly." + +"I know,--I understood that. Are not my words true still?" + +Gravity and shyness, all except the gravity that belonged to her and to +the subject, broke away from Faith. She rose up and stood beside Mr. +Linden, moved, happy, and glad with the gladness of full sympathy. + +"It has been a pleasant two weeks, Mr. Linden!--though I would have +liked to be at home. Aunt Dilly has wanted the Bible, morning, noon, +and night;--and it was wonderful to read it to her! It has been my +business, all these days." + +"My dear child! I am very glad!" he said, taking her hand. +"Wonderful?--yes, it is wonderful to read, to one who wants it." + +"She wanted it so much,"--Faith said, catching her breath a little. +"And understood it, Mr. Linden. Very soon it was all--or mostly--clear +to her. I read to her sometimes till twelve o'clock at night--and +sometimes began at four in the morning." + +Mr. Linden looked at her with a mingling of expressions. + +"I am afraid that was not good for you,--if one dare say it of any work +done in that service. Do you know how much the Bible is like that +pillar of fire which guided the Israelites, but to those who were not +of Israel became a pillar of cloud,--from which 'the Lord looked out' +but 'to trouble them'?" + +Faith's eye watched him as he spoke, and caught the power and beauty of +the illustration; but she did not speak. Until after thinking and +musing a while she said softly, "It don't trouble aunt Dilly." + +Mr. Linden drew up a chair for her near his own, but made no other +comment upon her or her musings at first,--then abruptly--"And you +think she will want you again?" + +"There is nobody else to do this for her," said Faith; and again was +silent. "How do you suppose it all began with aunt Dilly, Mr. Linden?" + +"As to means?--I cannot tell." + +"It began from a few words, which I dare say you have forgotten, but +which she and I remember,--words that you said one evening when she was +here last summer, about everybody's being precious in one sense.--You +repeated that passage--'They shall be mine, saith the Lord,'--you know." + +Faith did not know what a soft illumination was in her eyes, or she +would probably not have turned the light of it so full upon Mr. Linden +as at one or two points of her speech she did. It was a grave, sweet +look that answered her; but then his eyes went off to the fire without +further reply. + +Faith did not again interrupt the silence; a silence that to judge by +the faces of both was pleasant to both. Till Mrs. Derrick came in, who +indeed could not be very long absent. Then Faith left her place, sat +down on a low seat by her mother and caressingly took possession of her +hands and arms. She made no more startling propositions that night of +going back to Pequot again; and the minutes of the evening flowed +on--as such minutes do. + +The Sunday which followed was one as quietly happy as is often known in +this world. And the next day was Christmas. + + + + + +END OF VOL. I. + + + +PRINTING OFFICE OF THE PUBLISHER. + + + + + + + +Typographical errors silently corrected: + + +chapter 5: =There is no fear= replaced by ="There is no fear= + +chapter 6: =tete a-tete= replaced by =tete-a-tete= + +chapter 6: =Simlin's questions= replaced by =Simlins' questions= + +chapter 6: =ask the boys nothin= replaced by =ask the boys nothin'= + +chapter 6: =bargain," he said,= replaced by =bargain," he said.= + +chapter 7: =cause she wants you= replaced by ='cause she wants you= + +chapter 7: =kep' your ma to supper= replaced by =kep' your 'ma to +supper= + +chapter 8: =real sponsible= replaced by =real 'sponsible= + +chapter 9: =nutsdid= replaced by =nuts did= + +chapter 10: =this tone implied= replaced by =his tone implied= + +chapter 11: =endless day!= replaced by =endless day!'"= + +chapter 12: =Wether he had or no= replaced by =Whether he had or no= + +chapter 13: =well-dressed= replaced by =well-dressed= + +chapter 15: =What you have been doing= replaced by =what have you been +doing= + +chapter 22: =Mr. David has sent= replaced by =Mr. Davids has sent= + +chapter 22: ="Won't you rest= replaced by =Won't you rest= + +chapter 23: =should'nt be right= replaced by =shouldn't be right= + +chapter 26: =you're growing= replaced by ="you're growing= + +chapter 28: =Mr. Somers said good= replaced by =Mrs. Somers said good= + +chapter 32: =s'il vous plait= replaced by =s'il vous plait= + +chapter 34: =starvation creatur= replaced by =starvation creatur'= + +chapter 34: =to his arm,= replaced by =to his arm.= + +chapter 36: =slowly, the doctor= replaced by =slowly, "the doctor= + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Say and Seal, Volume I, by +Susan Warner and Anna Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAY AND SEAL, VOLUME I *** + +***** This file should be named 28544.txt or 28544.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/5/4/28544/ + +Produced by Daniel Fromont + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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