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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/28545-8.txt b/28545-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..80a83bf --- /dev/null +++ b/28545-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,23885 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Say and Seal, Volume II, 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 II + +Author: Susan Warner + Anna Warner + +Release Date: April 8, 2009 [EBook #28545] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAY AND SEAL, VOLUME II *** + + + + +Produced by Daniel Fromont + + + + + + + + + + +[Transcriber's note: Susan Warner (1819-1885) & Anna Warner +(1824-1915), _Say and seal_ (1860), Tauchnitz edition 1860 volume 2] + + + + + +COLLECTION + +OF + +BRITISH AUTHORS + + + +VOL. CCCXCIX. + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + + + +IN TWO VOLUMES. + + + +VOL. II. + + + + + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + + + +BY + +THE AUTHOR OF "WIDE WIDE WORLD," + +AND + +THE AUTHOR OF "DOLLARS AND CENTS." + + + +COPYRIGHT EDITION. + + + +IN TWO VOLUMES. + + + +VOL. II. + + + +LEIPZIG + +BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ + +1860. + + + + + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + +VOL. II. + + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +So came the holiday week, wherein was to be done so much less than +usual--and so much more. Mr. Linden's work, indeed, was like to double +on all hands; for he was threatened with more tea-drinkings, dinners, +suppers, and frolics, than the week would hold. How should he manage to +give everybody a piece of him, and likewise present himself entire to +the assembled boys when ever they chose to assemble?--which promised to +be pretty often. How should he go skating, sliding, and sleigh-riding, +at all hours of the day and night, and yet spend all those hours where +he wanted to spend them? It was a grave question; and not easy, as he +remarked to Faith, to hold so many feelings in his hands and hurt none +of them. So with the question yet undecided, Christmas day came. + +It was a brilliant day--all white and blue; the sky like a sapphire, +the earth like a pearl; the sunbeams burnished gold. + + "Ha' ye but seen the light fall of the snow, + Before the soil hath smutched it?"-- + + +Such was Pattaquasset, Christmas morning. And the bright lily, + + "Before rude hands have touched it," + +that was Faith Derrick when she came down stairs. The dainty little +crimson silk hood which Mrs. Derrick had quilted for her, was in her +hand, brought down for display; but at present the sitting-room was +empty, and Faith passed on to her work-basket, to put the hood in safe +keeping. She found a pre-occupied basket. At some unknown hour of the +night, Santa Claus had come and left upon it his mark in the shape of a +package: a rather large and rather thin package, but done up with that +infallible brown paper and small cord which everybody knows by +instinct. Who ever looked twice at a parcel from _that_ wagon, and +doubted whence it came? + +Faith's cheeks took an additional tinge, quite as brilliant as if the +crimson hood had been on. What doubtful fingers lifted the package from +the basket! + +The thing--whatever it was--had been done up carefully. Beneath the +brown paper a white one revealed itself, beneath that a red leather +portfolio--made in the pretty old-fashioned style, and securing its +contents by means of its red leather tongue. But when Faith had +withdrawn this, and with the caution always exercised on such occasions +had also drawn out the contents, she found the prettiest continuation +of her Italian journey, in the shape of very fine photographs of all +sorts of Italian places and things, mingled with here and there an +excursion into the Swiss mountains. + +A few almost awe-stricken glances Faith gave; then she put the +photographs in the portfolio again, scarcely seen, and looked at the +outside of the red leather; felt of its smooth surface with admiring +fingers that hardly believed what they touched, and a face glowing with +a very deep glow by this time. Faith thought herself rich, beyond the +imagination of a millionaire. But after a little mute amazed +consideration of her happiness, she rushed off to the kitchen to +signalize the Christmas breakfast--and perhaps spend a few of her too +many thoughts--by the preparation and production of one of Madame +Danforth's nice, but in Pattaquasset unheard of, delicacies; and when +all the rest of the breakfast was ready, Faith demurely went in with +her dish. + +She had not a word of acknowledgment for Mr. Linden, which was +ungrateful. She gave him her hand, however, with a manner and look +which were graceful enough; being at once open and shy, very bright, +and yet veiled with a shade of reserve. She had been over the fire, so +her face was naturally a little rosy. There was no particular reserve +about him,--his "Merry Christmas" was not only wished but carried out, +so far as breakfast time extended. Faith might be as demure as she +liked, but she had to be merry too; so on the whole the breakfast room +was beaming with more than sunlight. Yes, it was a merry +Christmas!--merry without and merry within,--that sort of merriment +which "doeth good like a medicine." Gay voices and steps and +snowballing on the broad street; gay snowbirds and chickadees in the +branches; in the house glad faces; over and upon all, clear sunshine +and the soft hush of a winter's morning. + +"What are you going to do to-day, mother?" said Faith towards the close +of breakfast time. + +"I'd rather look at you than anything else, child," said her mother, +"but I've got to go out, you know. What are _you_ going to do Faith?" + +"All sorts of things, mother. Mr. Linden?"-- + +"All sorts of things, Miss Faith--therefore we shall probably meet +quite often in the course of the day," he said smiling. "Will you give +me any commands?" + +"Perhaps--if I can. Mother, how are we to get to Mrs. Somers +to-night?--is Crab well?" + +"O Crab's gone away for the winter, child, and we've got Mr. +Stoutenburgh's Jerry. To be sure--that's since you went away." + +The first thing for Faith was the Christmas dinner, into which she +plunged, heart and hand. The turkey, the apples, and the pies, were all +seen to at last; and about an hour before dinner Faith was ready to +take off her kitchen apron and go into the parlour. She longed for a +further touch and eyesight of that red leather. + +She had it, for that hour; as dainty a luxuriating over her treasures +as anybody ever had. Faith pondered and dreamed over the photographs, +one after another; with endless marvel and querying of numberless +questions springing out of them,--general and particular, historical, +natural, social, and artistic or scientific. Questions that sometimes +she knew only enough to form vaguely. What a looking over of prints +that was! such an hour as is known by few, few of those who have seen +engravings all their lives. Nay, further than that;--such as is not +known by many a one that stands on the Bridge of sighs, and crosses the +Mer de glace, and sees the smoke curling up from Vesuvius. For once in +a while there is an imaginary traveller at home to whom is revealed +more of the spirit of beauty residing in these things, than hundreds of +those who visit them do ever see. Who + + "Feels the warm Orient in the noontide air, + And from cloud-minarets hears the sunset call to prayer." + + +Before dinner time was quite on the stroke came home Mr. Linden, who +betaking himself first upstairs and then into the sitting-room, brought +Faith her Christmas breastknot of green and red. Stiff holly leaves, +with their glossy sheen, and bright winterberries--clear and red, set +each other off like jewellers' work; and the soft ribbon that bound +them together was of the darkest possible blue. It was as dainty a bit +of floral handicraft as Faith had often seen. + +"Will you wear it, Miss Faith?" Mr. Linden said as he laid it on the +table by her. + +Faith had come out of her dream, and gave the holly and winterberries a +downcast look of recognition. It was given in silence, but the pleasure +which had been uppermost for some time presently made her overcome +shyness, and looking up gratefully she exclaimed, "Mr. Linden--what +pleasure you have given me!"--The soft colour which had been in her +cheeks before, mounted instantly to deep crimson, and she added +timidly, "Wasn't it you?" + +"What pleasure you give me!"--he said with a smile at her crimson and +all. "Yes, it was I." + +"It seems to me I have been at those places to-day," she went on, +looking over at the sofa where her portfolio lay. "I have been fancying +your sister standing here and there and looking at something I saw in +the picture. Now I can understand a little better what she was writing +about." + +"I am very glad you like them! Some time you must let me give you any +explanations they may need. What have you found for me to do this +afternoon?" + +"Aren't you going to be busy, Mr. Linden?" + +"About something--your business shall come first." + +"It can wait," said Faith very brightly. "It was just that, Mr. +Linden.--I was going to ask you some time to shew them to me. I have +been looking at some of them by myself, and going into a great many +things over them that I could not understand. But any time will do for +that--as well as to-day." + +"And to-day as well as any time"--he said smiling; "but I suppose we +must wait till after dinner." + +There was great satisfaction at that dinner, not to say in it--which +indeed the dinner merited. There was the remaining glow of the pleasant +morning, and a little dawning of the afternoon, besides the hour's own +light. Faith indeed was the radiating point of pleasure, which the two +others watched and furnished with new supplies. Then after dinner came +the Italian work, and she had as elaborate and careful answers and +information as she wished for. Mr. Linden could go back and tell her +where each place got its name, and what had been its history, with many +stories of its climate and productions and traditions; and so one by +one Faith went over again her new treasures. One by one,--until the +short afternoon began to fade, and it was time to dress for Mrs. +Somers'; and they had made but little progress into the portfolio, +after all. Yet it was a great "progress" to Faith;--a grand procession +through the years of history and the stages of civilization and the +varying phases of nature and humanity. + +Very tenderly the photographs were restored to the portfolio and the +red leather tongue drawn through, with a little breath heavy with +pleasure, and Faith carried off the whole to be put where profane hands +should not get hold of it. Then the comparatively ignoble business of +dressing occupied her. And Mrs. Derrick yet more, who of course was +there to help and look on; while Faith's head was erratically in her +portfolio, or at Rome, or at Florence, or--elsewhere,--as the case +might be. Her dress was this evening the same she had worn to Mrs. +Stoutenburgh's, but the knot of holly and winterberries transformed her +more than the rose and myrtle had done; and she stood an undoubted +guest of Christmas night. Faith herself took somewhat of the effect, +which her thought however concentrated. + +"Mother," she said as she looked in the glass,--"I never saw anything +so pretty!" + +"Neither did I, child," said Mrs. Derrick smiling. + +Faith took still closer note of the beauty of her breastknot; and then +gathering up her crimson hood and cloak, they went down stairs. It was +not quite the hour yet for Mrs. Somers'. Mr. Linden was ready and in +the sitting-room; but Faith did not this time call his attention to her +bouquet. She came in and sat down very quietly in a corner of the sofa. +He paused in his walk up and down the room however, noting her well as +she came in and took her seat; coming presently to take one at her +side; and then catching up a book from the table he proceeded to give +her the ice palace of the little brook, with which he had threatened +her before.-- + + "Down swept the cold wind from the mountain peak, + From the snow five thousand summers old"--etc. + + +"O," exclaimed Faith, "I have seen just such a brook! I have played in +it; when mother was afraid I should take cold, and wouldn't let me +stay. But that's as good as the brook," she added timidly. + +"Without the danger of taking cold. You are quite sure it has not +chilled you, Miss Faith?--do you feel 'winter-proof'?" + +"I think I do, for to-day," said Faith. "If the evening were to be even +very disagreeable, I think I could stand it." + +Which remark was perhaps significant. + +The tinkle of Jerry's bells now made itself heard at the door, and +Faith was shawled and cloaked and wrapped up by her mother in the house +and by Mr. Linden in the sleigh. He was more skilful about it than +Squire Stoutenburgh; and contrived to enclose Faith in a little wigwam +of buffalo robes, without letting her feel the weight of them. Then +they dashed off--Jerry well disposed for exercise after his five +minutes' stand, and spurning the snow from a light enough pair of +heels. How merrily the bells jingled! how calmly and steadily the stars +shone down! There was no moon now, but the whitened earth caught and +reflected every bit of the starlight, and made it by no means dark; and +the gleams from cottage windows came out and fell on the snow in little +streaks of brightness. Sleighs enough abroad!--from the swift little +cutters and large family sleighs that glided on towards the parsonage, +down to sledding parties of boys, cheered only by a cow-bell and their +own laughter. Tinkle, tinkle--everywhere,--near by and in the distance; +the dark figures just casting a light shadow on the roadside, the merry +voices ignoring anything of the kind. + +Mrs. Somers' house was a good long drive from Mrs. Derrick's. The road +was first on the way to Mr. Simlins'; from there it turned off at right +angles and went winding crookedly down a solitary piece of country; +rising and falling over uneven ground, twisting out of the way of a +rock here and there, and for some distance skirting the edge of a +woodland. There was light enough to see by, but it was not just the +piece of road one would choose of a dark night; and Faith felt thankful +Squire Deacon was gone to Egypt. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + +In the dressing-room Faith was seized upon in the warmest manner by +Mrs. Stoutenburgh, who looked very pretty in her dress of bright +crimson silk. + +"I'm so glad you've come back, dear. And how well you're looking!--a +little thin, though. But you'll soon make up for that. You're just as +lovely as you can be, Faith--do you know it?" + +"No, ma'am."--Her _flowers_, she knew, were as lovely as they could be. +"Jerry brought us, Mrs. Stoutenburgh, after all, and pretty fast too." + +"O he can go fast enough. You needn't look so sober, child--of course +no one thinks so but me, and nobody ever minds what I say. _That's_ +pretty, I suppose you'll allow," she said laughing, and bending down +closer to Faith's holly leaves,--"what is it, Faith? basswood?" + +"Don't you know holly, Mrs. Stoutenburgh? And the berries are +winterberries." + +"Yes my dear--I perceive. You mustn't get angry with me, child--I tell +you nobody does, not even your grave escort. At least not for anything +I do to _him_. Well I'll go down and electrify people with the news +that you're coming." And the crimson dress floated off to the tune of a +light step and a merry voice. And more slowly and more doubtfully the +black dress and winterberries followed her. Perhaps in very truth Faith +would have been willing that Mr. Stoutenburgh should have taken her +under his broad wing for that going down stairs. At least she was as +absolutely grave and quiet as anybody ever saw her, and a little more +inclined to be shrinking. But Mr. Linden was alone in the hall at that +minute, so there was no one else to shrink from; and if Faith wanted to +shrink from him, she hardly could,--there was such an absence of +anything to alarm her, both in his look and manner. Therefore, though +she had to go down stairs upon his arm, and pass sundry people on their +way up, Faith felt that he was a shield between her and the glances and +words which he so little regarded. Eyes and tongues indeed ventured hut +little in his presence; but that protection of course extended only to +the centre of the drawing-room, and the welcome which Faith received +from Mrs. Somers,--then she must shield herself. Then truly, for a +while, she was taken possession of by Squire Stoutenburgh, who walked +with her up and down, and said all manner of kind things. + +Faith had no particular skill to shield herself from anything, and +indeed gave herself no thought about it. She took what came, in a +simple and quiet spirit, which was very apt to strike like a bee the +right part of every flower; or that perhaps carried its own honey +along. So she walked up and down with Mr. Stoutenburgh; and so she +afterwards entered into the demands of a posse of her old and young +friends who had not seen her for a good while. + +Amidst a little group of these people, collected benignly around Faith, +Dr. Harrison presently intruded himself. Now Dr. Harrison was a lion, +and the smaller animals naturally fell off from him, which was +precisely what he expected them to do. The doctor had the field soon +clear. + +"What have you been doing to yourself?" he said to Faith with the +kindly, familiar manner which had grown up between them. + +"Taking good care,"--she said, in smiling answer to his question. + +"Who took the care? yourself?" + +"Yes." + +"I thought so." + +"Why, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Excuse me," said he. "Anybody else would have done it better." + +"No," said she shaking her head,--"you are wrong." + +"You have been--" said he, looking at her,--"you have been 'doing your +duty' too hard." + +"Can one do that, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Certainly!" + +"I haven't been doing it this time." + +"Do you remember," he said sitting down by her and lowering his +voice,--"what you said once about the flowers of the wilderness?" + +"Yes." + +"Would you like to see some of them?" + +"In the wilderness?" + +"No," said he smiling. "I can shew you one family of them, by their +portraits, here--to-night." + +"I would like to see them in the wilderness or anywhere!" said Faith. + +"Then if you'll come with me"-- + +And the next thing was Dr. Harrison's walking off the black silk and +winterberries before all the eyes of the people and through one room +after another, till a little one-side room was reached which was not a +thoroughfare to anything. In this little room was a table and a lamp +upon it, and also several very large thin books. There was also, which +was singular, a very comfortable easy chair. In this Dr. Harrison +installed his charge close by the table, and drew up one of the volumes. + +"I am going to introduce to you," he said, "the whole family of the +Rhododendrons." + +"Rhododendron?"--said Faith. "I never saw them." + +"It is their loss," said the doctor; "but here they are." + +It was as he said;--the whole family of the plant, in the most superb +style of portraiture and presentation. Full size and full colour; one +of the most magnificent of such works. Faith had never seen a +Rhododendron, and even in her dreams had never visited a wilderness +where such flowers grew. Her exquisite delight fully satisfied Dr. +Harrison, and quite kept her attention from herself and the fact of her +being shut off from the rest of the company. Now and then one and +another would drop in and look at what they were about, with curiosity +if not with sympathy; but Rhododendrons were not alluring to most of +the people, nor to say truth was Dr. Harrison. With most urbane +politeness he dispersed any desire to remain and look over his +proceedings which might have been felt by some of the intruders; or +contrived that they should find nothing to detain them. + +It was a long business, to turn over all those delicious portraits of +floral life and give anything like a sufficient look at each one. Such +glories of vegetable beauty Faith had never imagined. It was almost a +new revelation. There were deep brilliant crimsons; there was the +loveliest rose-colour, in large heads of the close elegant flowers; +there were, larger still and almost incredible in their magnificence, +enormous clusters of cream-coloured and tinted and even of buff. There +were smaller and humbler members of the family, which would have been +glorious in any other companionship. There were residents of the rich +regions of the tropics; and less superb members of the temperate zones; +there were trees and shrubs; and there were little bushy, hardy +denizens of the highest and barrenest elevations of rocks and snow to +which inflorescence ever climbs. Faith almost caught her breath. + +"And these are in the wilderness!" she said. + +"Yes. What then?" said the doctor. Faith did not say. + +"You are thinking they 'waste their sweetness'?" + +"O no, indeed! I don't think that." + +"You are thinking something. Please let me be the better for it." + +"One ought to be the better for it," said Faith. + +"Then I hope you won't refuse it to me," said Dr. Harrison gently +laughing at her. + +"I was thinking, Dr Harrison, what the Bible says,--'He hath made +everything beautiful in his time';--and, 'God saw everything that he +had made, and behold it was very good.'" + +The doctor turned over the leaf to a new Rhododendron. Faith's thoughts +went to Pequot, and her heart gave a bound of joy at the remembrance of +the sick woman there. + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh's crimson dress was so softly worn and managed, that +the wearer thereof was close in Dr. Harrison's neighbourhood for a +minute before he was aware of her presence; which quiet motions, it +should be observed, were habitual to Mrs. Stoutenburgh, and not at all +assumed for the occasion. Therefore it was with no idea of startling +anybody, that she said presently, "My dear Faith, what _are_ you +looking at through those Rhododendrons?" Faith started, and looked up +with a bit of a smile. + +"What do you see, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" said the doctor. + +"O several things," said the lady, passing her hand softly over Faith's +brow, and then with one of her sudden impulses putting her lips there. +"Do you like them, Faith?" + +"Does not Mrs. Stoutenburgh like them?" said the doctor, as he placed a +chair for her in the best position left for seeing. + +"Thank you," said she laughing. "I came here to be seen this evening. +And so ought some other people. How much do you pay for the monopoly, +doctor?" + +"I really don't know!" said Dr. Harrison with a very slight rise of his +handsome eyebrows. "I am in Pattaquasset--which is to me a region of +uncertainties. You will know better than I, Mrs. Stoutenburgh." + +"Well," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh with a wicked look at the doctor for his +sole benefit,--"speaking of Rhododendrons, which you've seen often +enough before,--don't you admire _this_--which you have _not_ seen +before?" and she touched Faith's holly leaves with the tip of her +little glove. "I should think it must stir what Mr. Linden calls your +'nerves of pleasant sensation'." + +"I am honoured by your estimation," said the doctor laughing slightly. +"Miss Derrick's taste is matchless. It is an act of benevolence for her +to wear flowers." + +Faith's very brow crimsoned, till she bent it from view as much as she +could. In all her truth she could not rise up there and confess that +her skill was not the skill to be commended. She wanted a shield then. + +"Don't flatter yourself that you are an object of charity," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh turning over another leaf to give Faith employment. +"They're talking of games in the other room, dear," she added in a +gentle voice,--"may I tell Mrs. Somers you will play too?" + +"Yes ma'am, certainly!" + +"They're not ready yet--sit still and enjoy your prints--I'll see what +they are about." And the lady left the room. Dr. Harrison sought some +particularly fine specimens and engaged Faith in talk about them and +their localities and habits, till her self-possession was restored. + +"Have you heard the news about Mr. Linden?" he asked with most +nonchalant carelessness. + +"What news?" said Faith, doubtful whether he meant Squire +Stoutenburgh's chapter or some other. + +"Then he hasn't told you himself?" + +"No," said Faith. + +"I thought you ought to be authority," the doctor went on in the same +tone. "It is very good news--for him--I hope it is true. They say--I +have heard,--how beautiful the droop of those petals is!--and the shade +of colour is rare--They say, that he has a very dear friend abroad; I +mean in Europe, somewhere. Do you think it is true?" + +"Yes," said Faith. She thought it was not wonderful news. + +"I mean a lady friend?" said the doctor. + +"Yes," said Faith again. She knew now what the doctor meant, but she +did not feel inclined to enter into the subject or to enlighten him at +all. Then too Mr. Linden might have more friends than _one_ abroad!--It +flashed upon her like a curious illumination. + +"Then the story is true?" said the doctor. + +"I don't know, sir," said Faith in some distress. "I know nothing about +it." + +"But you don't know that it is not true?" said he looking at her. + +"No, sir. I don't know." + +Dr. Harrison's further questions and remarks were cut short by the +entrance of the very person referred to; who coming up with his usual +light, alert step, held out his hand first of all to the questioner. + +"Good evening, doctor!--how do you do again? Miss Faith, may I take you +away from these beauties?" And the released hand was offered to her. +She put hers in it very willingly but very silently; Faith dared not +say a word to him about the Rhododendrons or about anything else. + +"Ah, you have two hands again," said Dr. Harrison, "and you turn it +against me!" + +"Not that fact--" Mr. Linden said as he went off. And then slackening +his step, he talked or made Faith talk--and laugh--every inch of the +way into the room where all the rest were clustered ready for blind +man's buff. It was a triumph of his skill,--or of his power,--for she +had left the Rhododendrons in a mood most shy and quiet, and disposed +to keep so. Dr. Harrison had not followed them, but soon made his +entrance upon the company by another door. + +"What is going on? or off, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" he whispered to that +lady. + +"Why the bandage is going on, and we're going off," said she laughing. +"Will you be blinded first, doctor?" + +"Blind man's buff!" said the doctor shrugging his shoulders comically. +"Barbarous! I would rather 'go off' too--but anything to please you, +Mrs. Stoutenburgh. A game to see how much a man without his five senses +can do against other people who have them." But the doctor gallantly +stepped up to Mrs. Somers. + +"I represent the forlorn hope for the evening, aunt Ellen. Has anybody +volunteered to be the first victim?" + +"You are the last person in the room that ought to volunteer," said +Mrs. Somers,--"however, blindness is proverbial in some cases. Miss +Essie will bandage your eyes, Julius--and use her own for you in the +meanwhile, I dare say. Miss Essie, here is a candidate." + +"Not for Miss Essie's good offices!" said the doctor. "I know her. I +shall not trust her. I will put myself in safe hands." + +And with an inexpressible air of carelessness and easy pleasure-taking, +Dr. Harrison carried his handsome person across the room to where Faith +yet stood by the side of Mr. Linden; stood looking rather sober. She +had not brought any of the rosy Rhododendron colour away in her face; +or else it had faded. The doctor came up and spoke in an undertone as +wilfully and gracefully independent as his manner. + +"If I ask you to do me the honour to put this handkerchief over my +eyes, Miss Derrick, I suppose you will not know what it signifies?" + +"No, sir," said Faith, with a very slight smile and extra colour. + +"Where I have been," said the doctor,--"where we never play it!--it is +played in this way. My entreating you to blind my eyes, signifies that +without them I shall endeavour to find you." + +"Then I wish you'd get somebody else to do it, Dr. Harrison." + +"You are not in earnest?" said the doctor. + +"Very much in earnest." + +"But I should observe," said he smiling, "that even the unkindness of +your refusal would not change my endeavour. I only give you, as in +honour bound, the chance of doing all you can to prevent my succeeding. +Will you do it?" + +He tendered the handkerchief. Faith coloured a little more, but to put +a stop to his absurdities, as they seemed to her, and to her consequent +prominence before the eyes of people, she accepted the office. Dr. +Harrison kneeled at her feet, and Faith put the handkerchief round his +eyes and tied it on; endeavouring, to do her justice, to perform the +task thoroughly. She was not quite sure how well it was done, after +all,--for the doctor had interposed a gentle "Softly," as she was +drawing the knot and had at the same time also raised his hand to ease +the bandage. But Faith had to let it go so; and simply resolved to take +care of herself. + +Many eyes, meanwhile, surveyed this performance with much edification, +glancing too at the motionless figure who at Faith's side looked down +upon it. But when the smile in those eyes touched the lips as well, +Mrs. Stoutenburgh was roused to a pitch of delight; and running into +the middle of the room to meet the doctor as he came to take his stand, +she clapped her hands exclaiming, "O, doctor! doctor!--how could you +let anybody tie anything over your eyes!" + +"Is there treachery, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" said the doctor with a comic +stop. + +"Where?"--said the lady. + +"Nay,--I know where," said the doctor. And turning from her he +addressed himself to the game. + +But though Dr. Harrison shewed himself a keen player the game came to +no sudden termination. And Faith could not help doubting that her work +had not been too effectual. It was beyond question, even if she had not +been forewarned, that the doctor was endeavouring to find--or +endeavouring to catch her. In vain Mrs. Stoutenburgh's crimson and Miss +Essie's blue floated past him and rustled behind him. In vain Mrs. +Somers' purple stood in his way. The skirt of that one black silk could +go nowhere that some one of the doctor's senses did not inform him of +it. Closely he followed upon her flight, and keen work Faith found it, +play as well as she would. She began to get out of breath, and the +amusement and fun grew uproarious. + +It was when her foot was failing that the doctor's gained strength: +between him and the prize there was now no barrier; no leap could avail +Faith in the corner where she was at last hemmed in. Slowly and +securely the doctor advanced, first himself and then his hands, and +caught--Mr Linden! Caught him unmistakeably too,--there was no help for +it; and Dr. Harrison in his astonishment forgot to pronounce him +somebody else! + +"Confound you!" said the doctor slowly and comically--"how did you get +here?" + +"Are you fatigued?" said Mr. Linden, taking off the bandage. "Miss +Faith, you did _this_ part of your work very ill." + +"How did you get here?" repeated the doctor, taking hold of his arm and +shaking it slightly. "I wasn't looking for _you_, man." + +"What were you _looking_ for?" said Mr. Linden, with a laughing return +of the doctor's gaze. + +"Shall I put that on for you?" said the latter with a sort of +complicate expression, which however never lost its grace and ease. And +then began another chase--but not of Faith this time,--perhaps Mr. +Linden thought she needed rest. And the changes ran round the company, +but never (as it happened) including Faith or Dr. Harrison, until they +reached the finishing round of the game. Then it was Mr. Linden's turn +again to wear the bandage, and then he gave Faith the sort of run he +had given her before at Mrs. Stoutenburgh's--and with the same success. + +"Haven't they played blind man's buff long enough?" Faith whispered, +when the bandage was taken off her captor. She was flushed, a little, +and sober more than a little. + +"Yes--I will move a change," he answered in the same tone. Which he +did, after a short consultation. + +"Dr. Harrison--you have seen the 'Butterfly,' I suppose?" + +"_The_ butterfly?" said the doctor. "I have seen many--of all colours; +but the butterfly par excellence, I know not. Unless it is one with +white wings and black body, and spots of most brilliant red on the +breast." + +"The one I mean combines more colours," said Mr. Linden. "What were you +doing in France, not to see it?" + +"Seeing other things, I suppose. However, now you speak of it, I +believe that butterfly has flown over me--sometime." + +"Please to imagine yourself a gay rover for the nonce," said Mr. +Linden, leading the doctor persuasively into the middle of the floor. +"Just suppose you are a Purple Emperor--will you doctor? Miss Essie +wants a story and forfeits,--I shall leave you to gratify her." But he +himself went to give Miss Faith a seat. That was done with a very +different manner from the gay, genial way in which he had addressed the +doctor: it was genial enough, certainly, but grave. + +"You do not feel well?" he said, as he wheeled up an easy chair for +her. It was spoken too low for any one else to hear. + +"Yes, I do,"--said Faith quickly. But her face flushed deep, and her +eye though it glanced towards him, failed timidly of meeting his; and +her voice had lost all the spring of pleasure. + +"Then cannot you keep the promise you made about a disagreeable +evening?" The tone was very low still--(he was arranging her footstool +and chair) a little concerned too, a little--or Faith fancied it--but +indeed she was not quite sure what the third part was; and then the +doctor began his work. + +For a minute or two she did not hear him, or heard without heed. She +was thinking over Mr. Linden's question and struggling with it. For its +slight tone, of remonstrance perhaps, only met and stirred into life +the feeling she was trying to keep down. Her lip took one of its +sorrowful curves for an instant; but then Dr. Harrison came towards +them. + +"What insect on the face of the earth, Linden, will you be? What does +he resemble most, Miss Derrick?" + +"I am not particular about being on the face of the earth," said Mr. +Linden,--"the air will do just as well." + +The doctor was waiting for Faith's answer. Under the exigency of the +moment she gave it him, glancing up first at the figure beside her, +perhaps to refresh her memory--or imagination--and smiling a little as +she spoke. + +"I don't think of any he is like, Dr. Harrison." + +"Do you think I am like a purple butterfly?" said the doctor. + +"Yes, a little,"--said Faith. But it was with a face of such childlike +soberness that the doctor looked hard at her. + +"What do you think you are like yourself?" said he; not lightly. + +"I think I am a little like an ant," said Faith. + +The doctor turned half round on his heel. + +"'Angels and ministers of grace'!" was his exclamation. "Most winged, +gentle, and etherial of all the dwellers in, or on, anthills,--know +that thy similitude is nothing meaner than a flower. You must take the +name of one, Miss Faith--all the ladies do--what will you be?" + +"What will you be?" Mr. Linden repeated,--"Mignonette?--that is even +below the level of some of your anthills." + +"If you please,"--she said. + +"Or one of your Rhododendrons?" said the doctor--"that is better; for +you have the art--or the nature, indeed,--of representing all the tints +of the family by turns--except the unlovely ones. Be a Rhodora!" + +"No"--said Faith--"I am not like that--nor like the other, but I will +be the other." + +"Mignonette"--said the doctor. "Well, what shall we call him? what is +_he_ like?" + +"I think," said Faith, looking down very gravely, not with the flashing +eye with which she would have said it another time,--"he is most like a +midge." + +The little laugh which answered her, the way in which Mr. Linden bent +down and said, "How do you know, Miss Faith?" were slightly mystifying +to Dr. Harrison. + +"I don't know,"--she said smiling; and the doctor with one or two looks +of very ungratified curiosity left them and returned to his post. + +"What are they going to play, Mr. Linden?" said Faith. The doctor's +explanation, given to the rest generally, she had not heard. + +"Do you know what a family connexion you have given me, Miss +Faith?--The proverb declares that 'the mother of mischief is no bigger +than a midge's wing.'" + +An involuntary little caught breath attested perhaps Faith's +acquiescence in the truth of the proverb; but the doctor's words +prevented the necessity of her speaking. + +"Miss Essie--Ladies and gentlemen! Please answer to your names, and +thereby proclaim your characters. Mrs. Stoutenburgh, what are you?" + +"A poppy, I think," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing. "I like to be +beforehand with the public." + +"Will you please to name your lord and master? He is incapable of +naming himself." + +"I think you've named him!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh with a gay toss of +her pretty head. "I'm not learned in insects, doctor,--call him +anything that eats up butter-flies." + +"Mr. Stoutenburgh will--you be a grub?" said the doctor. "Or a beetle? +I don't know anything else that I--as a butterfly--dislike more." + +"No, I'll be a cricket--I'm so spry," said the Squire,--"and I'll be +down upon _you_ in some other form, doctor." + +"You'll have to fly higher first," said the doctor. "Miss Essie +declares herself to be a purple Althaea. Miss Davids--an evening +primrose. Miss Deacon--a cluster rose. Miss Fax--a sweet pink. Miss +Chester--a daisy. Miss Bezac--what shall I put you down?" The butterfly +was making a list of his flowers and insects, and cards had been +furnished to the different members of the party, and pencils, to do as +much for themselves. + +"I'd as lieve be balm as anything else, if I knew how," said Miss +Bezac; "but I shouldn't call _that_ putting me down." + +"That fits, anyhow," said Squire Stoutenburgh. + +"'Balm for hurt minds'"--said Dr. Harrison writing. "Miss Julia De +Staff is a white lily. Miss Emmons--a morning glory. Mrs. Churchill a +peony. Miss Derrick is mignonette. Mrs. Somers--?" + +"I may as well be lavender," said Mrs. Somers. "You say I am in a good +state of preservation." + +"What is Mr. Somers?" + +"Mr. Somers--what are you?" said his wife. + +"Ha!--I don't know, my dear," said Mr. Somers blandly. "I think I +am--a--out of place." + +"Then you're a moth," said the doctor. "That is out of place too, in +most people's opinion. Miss Delaney, I beg your pardon--what are you?" + +"Here are the two Miss Churchills, doctor," said Miss Essie--"hyacinth +and laburnum." + +"I am sure you have been sponsor, Miss Essie. Well this is my garden of +flowers. Then of fellow insects I have a somewhat confused variety. Mr. +Stoutenburgh sings round his hearth in the shape of a black cricket. +Mr. Linden passes unnoticed in the invisibility of a midge--nothing +more dangerous. Mr. Somers does all the mischief he can in the way of +devouring widows' houses. The two Messrs. De Staff" (two very spruce +and moustachioed young gentlemen) "figure as wasp and snail--one would +hardly think they belonged to the same family--but there is no +accounting for these things. Mr. George Somers professes to have the +taste of a bee--but luckily the garden belongs to the butterfly." + +"In other words, some one has put Dr. Harrison in a flutter," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh. + +"I haven't begun yet," said the doctor wheeling round to face her; +"when I do, my first business will be to cut you up, Mrs. Stoutenburgh." + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden while the roll went on, "I have not +forgotten your question,--they, and we, are going to play a French game +called 'the Butterfly and the Flowers;' wherein I, a midge, am in +humble attendance oh a sprig of mignonette. Whenever our butterfly +gardener chooses to speak the name of any flower or insect, that Flower +or insect must reply: when he speaks of the gardener, you flowers must +extend one hand in token of welcome, we insects draw back in dismay: if +the gardener brings his watering-pot, or there falls a shower of rain, +you must hold up your head for joy--I must kneel down for fear. If the +sunshine is mentioned, we are free to rejoice together--standing up and +making demonstrations. You may reply, Miss Faith, either in your own +words or quotations, so that you mention some one of your companions; +but if you fail to speak, or break any other rule, you must pay a +forfeit first and redeem it afterwards." + +"I may mention either insect or flower?" said Faith. + +"Yes, just what you like." + +"If everybody is ready," said the doctor, "I will begin by remarking +that I find myself in an 'embarras de richesses'--so many sweets around +me that I--a butterfly--know not which to taste first; and such an +array of enemies, hostile alike to the flowers and me, that I know not +which to demolish first. I hope a demolishing rain will fall some of +these days--ah! that is gratifying! behold my enemies shrinking +already, while the flowers lift up their heads with pleasure and warm +themselves in the rays of the sun. What is mignonette doing?" + +There was a general outcry of laughter, for as the gentlemen had +kneeled and bent their heads, and the flowers had risen to greet the +sun,--Faith, in her amusement and preoccupation had sat still. She rose +now, blushing a little at being called upon. + +"Mignonette loves the sun without making any show for it. She has no +face to lift up like the white lily." + +"The white lily isn't sweet like lavender," said Miss Julia. + +"And the lavender has more to do in the linen press than among +butterflies," said Mrs. Somers. + +"It is good to know one's place," said the doctor. "But the butterfly, +seeking a safe resting place, flutters with unpoised flight, past the +false poppy which flaunts its gay colours on the sight." + +"And fixes its eyes on the distant gardener with his watering-pot," +said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, stretching forth her hand, sibyl-like, towards +the now prostrate doctor,--"whereat the mignonette rejoices." + +"All the flowers rejoice," said the mignonette, "and the cricket jumps +out of the way." + +"Into the sunshine"--said Mr. Stoutenburgh, laughing;--"but the moth +feels doubtful." + +"The moth"--said Mr. Somers--"he--don't like the sunshine so well as +the rain. He--ha--he wishes he was a midge there, to get under shelter." + +"A midge _here_ he can't be," said Mr. Linden, dropping his voice for +Faith's benefit,--"'Two suns hold not their courses in one +sphere!'"--Then aloud--"Invisibility is a great thing--when you can +make up your mind to it, but 'Althaea with the purple eye' looks on +life differently." + +"I look on it soberly," said Miss Essie.-- + + "'Flutter he, flutter he, high as he will, + A butterfly is but a butterfly still. + And 'tis better for us to remain where we are, + In the lowly valley of duty and care, + Than lonely to soar to the heights above, + Where there's nothing to do and nothing to love.'" + + +"I'll flutter no more! after that"--said the doctor. "I'll creep into +the heart of the white lily and beg it to shelter me." + +"It won't hide you from the sun nor from the rain," said the white +lily,--"and I'd as lieve shelter a spider besides." + +Faith forgot again that she must welcome the sun; but she was not the +only one who had incurred forfeits. Nor the last one who should. For +while that interesting member of society who called himself spider, +made his reply, Mr. Linden's attention naturally wandered--or came +back; and the lively dialogue which then ensued between Messrs. Snail, +Wasp, Beetle, etc. failed to arouse him to the duties of a midge or the +fear of the gardener: he forgot everything else in the pleasure of +making Mignonette laugh. Standing half before her at last, in some +animated bit of talk, more than one sunbeam and watering-pot had come +and gone, unnoticed by both midge and mignonette,--a fact of which some +other people took note, and smilingly marked down the forfeits. + +"Mr. Linden"--said the voice of Miss Essie at his elbow--"do you know +what the doctor is saying?--'The mother of mischief is no bigger than a +midge's wing!' You'd better speak to him." + +Mr. Linden turned, with a laughing, recollective glance-- + +"Who speaks slightingly of the midge?--let him have a dose of syrup of +poppies!" + +"I guess you can find balm," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh gaily. + +"He shall have it if he wants it," said Miss Bezac--"that is if _I_'ve +got it,--though I rather guess he's got it himself,--I'm sure I don't +know what he hasn't got. And it don't strike me he looks as if he +wanted it, either, if I _had_. But it's funny I should and not the +doctor--though to be sure most things are,--and _he_'s gone to 'the +butterfly's ball and the grasshopper's feast.'" + +"The grasshopper's feast being just now announced," said Mrs. Somers +stepping forward, "I shall hope to set the flowers free from their +natural enemies without more delay." + +"I shall not confess to that!" said Mr. Linden under-tone. "But will +you come, Miss Faith--the insects are all gone-- + + 'Save the few that linger, even yet, + Round the Alyssum's tuft and the Mignonette.'" + + +The midge's prompt action had perhaps disappointed several other +people. Dr. Harrison at any rate contrived with Miss Essie to be the +immediately preceding couple in the walk to the supper-room. + +"I'm glad of some refreshment!" said the doctor; "butterflies cannot +live on the wing. Linden! have you been singing all the evening, in the +character of a midge?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden--"all the singing I have done has been in my own +character." + +"I am glad to hear it. By the way," said Dr. Harrison as they reached +the supper-room and paired off from their respective charges,--"I am +sorry to hear that Pattaquasset has no hold on you, Linden." + +"Indeed?" said Mr. Linden,--an "indeed" which might refer to the +doctor's sorrow, or the supposed fact. + +"Nay I know nothing about it!" said the doctor lightly as he attacked +the supper-table--"but Miss Derrick tells me it is true that your heart +is in another place." + +"Dr. Harrison!" Mr. Linden said, with a momentary erectness of +position. But he said no more; turning off then towards Faith with her +oysters. And the gentle respect and quick attention with which she was +served, Faith might feel, and take note of--yet not guess that its +peculiar tone this night was warring, hand to hand, with the injustice +done her name. The doctor had unwittingly betrayed at least one point +of talk held over the Rhododendrons--furnished a clue he dreamed not +of; and stirred a power of displeasure which perhaps he thought Mr. +Linden did not possess. + +Faith did not indeed guess anything from the manner of the latter to +her, although she felt it; she felt it as his own, kind and watchful +and even affectionate; but like him, belonging to him, and therefore +not telling upon the question. With a very humbled and self-chiding +spirit, she was endeavouring to keep the face and manner which suited +the place, above a deep sinking of heart which was almost overcoming. +Her success was like the balance of her mind--doubtful. Gentle her face +was as ever; all the crosses of the evening had not brought an angle +there; but it was shadowed beyond the fitness of things; and she was +still and retiring so far as it was possible to be, shrinking into a +very child's lowness of place. + +Ladies were in the majority that night and the gentlemen were obliged +to be constantly on the move. In one of the minutes when Faith was +alone, Mrs. Stoutenburgh came up. + +"Faith," she whispered, "have you been doing anything to vex my friend?" + +Faith started a little, with a sort of shadow of pain crossing her face. + +"Who is your friend, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" + +"Hush, child!" she answered--"_your_ friend, if you like it better." +And she added softly but seriously, "Don't vex him,--he doesn't deserve +it." + +Faith's lip was that touchingly sorrowful child's lip for an instant. +She was beyond speaking. Then came up help, in the shape of Miss Essie; +with questions about the forfeits and about Mr. Linden. All Mrs. +Stoutenburgh's kindness made itself into a screen for Faith, on the +instant,--neither eyes nor tongues were allowed to come near her. + +"Mr. Linden!" said Miss Essie as he just then came up, "will you help +us give out forfeits? Who do you think is best to do it?" + +"Mr. Linden," said Mrs. Somers, "we are all very anxious to know +whether all the reports about you are true." + +Mr. Linden bowed to the anxiety, but gave it no further heed. + +"Are they?" she repeated. + +"Do all the reports agree, Mrs. Somers?" + +"I must confess they are at swords' points." + +"Then they cannot all be true,--let them fight it out." + +"But suppose some of the fighting should come upon you?" + +"That is a supposition I have just refused to take up," said Mr. +Linden, stepping towards the table and bringing a bunch of grapes to +Faith's plate. + +"Yes, but everybody hasn't the patience of Job," said Mrs. Somers. +"Julius, for instance." + +"He has at least his own ways of obtaining information," said Mr. +Linden, and Faith felt the slight change of voice. "Miss Essie, what +will you have?" + +"Has the doctor any forfeits to pay?" was the somewhat irrelevant +answer. "I should so like to see you two set against each other! Dr. +Harrison!--have you any forfeits?" + +"No," said the doctor;--"but as severe service to perform as if I had. +Linden, we shall want your help--it's too much for one man." + +Faith edged away behind this growing knot of talkers, and presently was +deeply engaged in conversation with Miss Cecilia Deacon, at a table in +the corner, and alternating her attention between grapes and words. +Then Squire Stoutenburgh walked softly up and stood behind Faith's +chair. + +"My dear, will you have anything more?" + +"No, sir, thank you." + +"Then I am going to carry you off!" said the Squire,--"if I wait a +quarter of a second more I shall lose my chance. Come!" + +Faith was very willing to come, indeed; and they went back to the +drawing-room, all the company pouring after them; and Faith feeling as +if she had got under a kind of lee shore, on Mr. Stoutenburgh's arm. It +could not shelter her long, for the forfeits began. + +The doctor and Mr. Linden, with Miss Essie and Mrs. Stoutenburgh for +coadjutors, were constituted the awarding committee; and the forfeits +were distributed to them indifferently. There were many to be redeemed; +and at first there was a crowd of inferior interest, Messrs. Spider and +Wasp, Mesdemoiselles White Lily and Cluster rose; who were easily +disposed of and gallantly dismissed. But there were others behind. One +of Faith's forfeits came up; it was held by Dr. Harrison. + +"Please to stand forth, Miss Derrick, and hear your sentence," said the +doctor, leading her to a central position in the floor; which Faith +took quietly, but with what inward rebellion one or two people could +somewhat guess. + +"Have the goodness to state to the company what you consider to be the +most admirable and praiseworthy of all the characters of flowers within +your knowledge; and to describe the same, that we may judge of the +justness of your opinion." + +"Describe the character?" said Faith in a low voice. + +"Yes. If you please." + +She stood silent a moment, with downcast eyes, and did not raise them +when she spoke. Her colour was hardly heightened, and though her voice +rose little above its former pitch, its sweet accents were perfectly +audible everywhere. The picture would have been enough for her forfeit. + +"The prettiest character of a flower that I know, is that of a little +species of Rhododendron. It is one of the least handsome, to look at, +of all its family; its beauty is in its living. It grows on the high +places of high mountains, where frost and barrenness give it no help +nor chance; but there, where no other flower ever blossoms, it opens +its flowers patiently and perseveringly; and its flowers are very +sweet. Nothing checks it nor discourages it. As soon as the great cold +lets it come, it comes; and as long as the least mildness lets it stay, +it stays. Amidst snow and tempest and desolation it opens its blossoms +and spreads its sweetness, with nobody to see it nor to praise it; +where from the nature of the place it lives in, its work is all alone. +For no other flower will bear what it bears.--Will that do?" said +Faith, looking up gravely at her questioner. + +Very gently, very reverently even, he took her hand, put it upon his +arm and led her to a seat, speaking as he went low words of gratified +pardon asking. "You must forgive me!" he said. "Forfeits must be +forfeits, you know. I couldn't resist the temptation." + +"Now wasn't that pretty?" whispered Miss Essie in the mean time in Mr. +Linden's ear. + +He had listened, leaning against the mantelpiece, and with shaded eyes +looking down; and now to Miss Essie's question returned only a grave +bend of the head. + +"If you have been looking at the floor all this while, you have lost +something," said the lady. "Do you know your turn comes next? Mr. +Linden--ladies and gentlemen!--is condemned to tell us what he holds +the most precious thing in this world; and to justify himself in his +opinion by an argument, a quotation, and an illustration!"-- + +"Now will he find means to evade his sentence!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh +laughing. + +"He has confessed himself addicted to witchcraft in my hearing," said +the doctor, who had remained standing by Faith's chair. + +"The most precious thing in the world," said Mr. Linden, in a tone as +carelessly graceful as his attitude, "is that which cannot be +bought,--for if money could buy it, then were money equally valuable. +Take for illustration, the perfection of a friend." + +"_I_ don't understand,"--said Miss Essie; "but perhaps I shall when I +hear the rest." + +He smiled a little and gave the quotation on that point in his own +clear and perfect manner. + + "'A sweet, attractive kind of grace; + A full assurance given by looks; + Continual comfort in a face; + The lineaments of gospel books,-- + I trow that countenance cannot lye + Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.'" + + +The quotation was received variously, but in general with vast +admiration. Miss Essie turned to Mrs. Stoutenburgh and remarked, half +loud, + +"_That's_ easy to understand. I was dull." + +"What do you think of it?" said the doctor softly, stooping towards +Faith. But if she heard she did not answer him. She sat with downcast +eyes that did not move. She had been wondering whether that was a +description of "Pet,"--or of somebody else. + +"Faith," whispered Mrs. Stoutenburgh's kind mischievous voice in her +ear,--"in whose face do you suppose he finds 'continual comfort'?" But +she was sorry the next instant, for the pained, startled look which +flashed up at her. Sorry and yet amused--the soft little kiss on +Faith's cheek was smiling although apologetic. + +"Mr. Linden," said the doctor, who held the bag of forfeits,--"it is +your duty to punish Miss Essie with some infliction, such as you can +devise." + +"Miss Essie," said Mr. Linden, walking gravely up to her, "if there is +any person in this room towards whom you entertain and practise +malicious, mischievous, and underhand designs, you are hereby sentenced +to indicate the person, declare the designs, and to 'shew cause.'" + +"Why I never did in my life!" said Miss Essie, with a mixture of +surprise and amusement in her gracious black eyes. + +"The court is obliged to refuse an unsupported negative," said Mr. +Linden bowing. + +"Well," said Miss Essie, with no diminishing of the lustre of her black +orbs,--"I had a design against you, sir!" + +"Of what sort?" said Mr. Linden with intense gravity, while everybody +else laughed in proportion. + +"I had a design to enter your mind by private fraud, and steal away its +secrets;--and the reason was, because the door was so terribly strong +and had such an uncommon good lock! and I couldn't get in any other +way." + +"I hope that is news to the rest of the company," said Mr. Linden +laughing as he bowed his acknowledgments. "It is none to me! Miss +Essie, may your shadow never be less!"-- + +"Aint you ashamed!" said Miss Essie reproachfully. "Didn't such a +confession deserve better? Who's next, Mr. Harrison?" + +Some unimportant names followed, with commonplace forfeits according; +then Faith's name came to Mr. Linden. Then was there an opening of eyes +and a pricking of ears of all the rest of the company. Only Faith +herself sat as still as a mouse, after one little quick glance over to +where the person stood in whose hands she was. He stood looking at +her,--then walked with great deliberation across the room to her low +seat, and taking both her hands lifted her up. + +"You need not be frightened," he said softly, as keeping one hand in +his clasp he led her back to where he had been standing; then placed +her in a great downy easy chair in that corner of the fireplace, and +drew up a footstool for her feet. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "you are to sit there in absolute silence for +the next fifteen minutes. If anybody speaks to you, you are not to +answer,--if you are longing to speak yourself you must wait. It is also +required that you look at nobody, and hear as little as possible." With +which fierce sentence, Mr. Linden took his stand by the chair to see it +enforced. + +"What a man you are!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing. + +"That's not fair play!" said Mrs. Somers. "She don't want to sit +there--if you think she does, you're mistaken." + +"She should have been more careful then," said Mr. Linden. "Dr. +Harrison, you have the floor." + +Dr. Harrison did not appear to think that was much of a possession;--to +judge by his face, which cast several very observant glances towards +the chair, and by his manner which for a moment was slightly abstracted +and destitute of the spirit of the game. Miss Essie's eyes took the +same direction, with a steady gaze which the picture justified. Faith +sat where she had been placed, in most absolute obedience to the orders +she had received,--except possibly--not probably--the last one. The +lids drooped over her eyes, which moved rarely from the floor, and +never raised themselves. Her colour had risen indeed to a rich tint, +where it stayed; but Mrs. Somers' declaration nevertheless was hardly +borne out by a certain little bit-in smile which lurked there too, +spite of everything. Otherwise she sat like an impersonation of +silence, happily screened, by not looking at anybody, from any +annoyance of the eyes that were levelled at her and at the figure that +held post by her side. + +"Mrs. Stoutenburgh," said the doctor, "you have my aunt Ellen." + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh however was lenient in that quarter, and told Mrs. +Somers they would require nothing of her but the three last items of +Pattaquasset news--which she, as pastor's wife, was bound to know. And +Mrs. Somers was not backward in declaring them; the first being the +engagement of two people who hated each other, the second the +separation of two people who loved each other; the third, that Mr. +Linden shot himself--to make a sensation. + +"Mr. Linden," said the doctor, "you come next--and you are mine. What +shall I do with you?" + +"Why--anything," said Mr. Linden. + +"Well--I am greatly at a loss what you are good for," said the doctor +lightly,--"but on the whole I order you to preach a sermon to the +company." + +"Have you any choice as to the text?" + +"I am not in the way of those things," said the doctor laughingly. +"Give us the lesson you think we want most." + +The clear, grave look that met him--Dr. Harrison had seen it before. +The change was like the parting of a little bright vapour, revealing +the steadfast blue beneath. + +"Nay doctor, you must bid me do something else! I dare not play at +marbles with precious stones." + +There was probably a mixture of things in the doctor's mind;--but the +outward show in answer to this was in the highest degree seemly and +becoming. The expression of Dr. Harrison's face changed; with a look +gentle and kind, even winning, he came up to Mr. Linden's side and took +his hand. + +"You are right!" said he, "and I have got my sermon--which I deserve. +But now, Linden, _that_ is not your forfeit;--for that you must tell +me--honestly--what you think of me." There was always a general air of +carelessness about Dr. Harrison, as to what he said himself or what +others said in his presence. Along with this carelessness, which +whether seeming or real was almost invariable, there mingled now a +friend's look and tone and something of a friend's apology making. + +"But do you want me to tell everybody else?" said Mr. Linden, smiling +in his old way at the doctor. "Do you like to blush before so many +people?" + +"That's your forfeit!" said the doctor resuming also his old-fashioned +light tone. "You're to tell me--and you are _not_ to tell anybody else!" + +"Well--if you will have it," said Mr. Linden looking at +him,--"Honestly, I think you are very handsome!--of course that is news +to nobody but yourself." + +"Mercy on you, man!" said the doctor; "do you think that is news to +_me?_" + +"It is supposed to be--by courtesy," said Mr. Linden laughing. + +"Well--give me all the grace courtesy will let you," said the doctor; +whether altogether lightly, or with some feeling, it would have been +hard for a by-stander to tell. "Is Miss Derrick's penance out? She +comes next--and Miss Essie has her." + +"No,"--said Mr. Linden consulting his watch. "I am sorry to interfere +with your arrangements, doctor, but justice must have its course." + +"Then there is a 'recess'"--said the doctor comically. "Ladies and +gentlemen--please amuse yourselves."-- + +He had no intention of helping them, it seemed, for he stood fast in +his place and talked to Mr. Linden in a different tone till the minutes +were run out. No thing could be more motionless than the occupant of +the chair. + +"Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said then, "it is a little hard to pass from +one inquisitor to another--but I must hand you over to Miss Essie." + +Faith's glance at him expressed no gratification. Meanwhile the doctor +had gone for Miss Essie and brought her up to the fireplace. + +"Miss Derrick," said the black-eyed lady, "I wish you to tell--as the +penalty of your forfeit--why, when you thought the Rhododendron the +most perfect flower, you did not take it for your name?" + +If anybody had known the pain this question gave Faith--the leap of +dismay that her heart made! Nobody knew it; her head drooped, and the +colour rose again to be sure; but one hand sheltered the exposed cheek +and the other was turned to the fire. She could not refuse to answer, +and with the doctor's weapons she would not; but here, as once before, +Faith's straightforwardness saved her. + +"Why didn't you call yourself Rhodora?" repeated Miss Essie. And Faith +answered,-- + +"Because another name was suggested to me." + +The question could not decently be pushed any further; and both Miss +Essie and the doctor looked as if they had failed. Faith's own tumult +and sinking of heart prevented her knowing how thoroughly this was true. + +"And you two people," said Mr. Linden, "come and ask Miss Derrick why +she chose to appropriate a character that she thought fell short of +perfection!--what is the use of telling anybody anything, after that?" + +"I am only one people," said Miss Essie. + +"I am another," said the doctor; "and I confess myself curious. +Besides, a single point of imperfection might be supposed, without +injury to mortal and human nature." + +"Julius," said Miss Harrison, "will you have the goodness to do so +impolite a thing as to look at your watch? Aunt Ellen will expect us to +set a proper example. Dear Faith, are you bound to sit in that big +chair all night?" + +Then there was a general stir and break-up of the party. One bit of +conversation Faith was fated to hear as she slowly made her way out of +the dressing-room door, among comers and goers: the first speaker was a +young De Staff. + +"Since that shooting affair there's been nothing but reports about you, +Linden." + +"Reports seldom kill," said Mr. Linden. + +"Don't trust to that!" said another laughing moustache,--"keep 'em this +side the water. By the way--is there any likeness of that fair +foreigner going? How do you fancy _she_ would like reports?" + +"When you find out I wish you would let me know," said Mr. Linden with +a little accent of impatience, as he came forward and took Faith in +charge. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + +It was pretty late when Jerry and his little sleigh-load got clear of +the gates. The stars were as bright as ever, and now they had the help +of the old moon; which was pouring her clear radiance over the snow and +sending long shadows from trees and fences. The fresh air was pleasant +too. Faith felt it, and wondered that starlight and snow and +sleigh-bells were such a different thing from what they were a few +hours before. She chid herself, she was vexed at herself, and humbled +exceedingly. She endeavoured to get back on the simple abstract ground +she had held in her own thoughts until within a day or two; she was +deeply ashamed that her head should have allowed even a flutter of +imagination from Mr. Stoutenburgh's words, which now it appeared might +bear a quite contrary sense to that which she had given them. What was +_she_, to have anything to do with them? Faith humbly said, nothing. +And yet,--she could not help that either,--the image of the possibility +of what Dr. Harrison had suggested, raised a pain that Faith could not +look at. She sat still and motionless, and heard the sleigh-bells +without knowing to what tune they jingled. + +It was a quick tune, at all events,--for the first ten or fifteen +minutes Jerry dashed along to his heart's content, and his driver even +urged him on,--then with other sleighs left far behind and a hill +before him, Jerry brought the tune to a staccato, and Mr. Linden spoke. +But the words were not very relevant to either stars or sleigh-bells. + +"Miss Faith, I thought you knew me better." + +They startled her, for she was a minute or two without answering; then +came a gentle, and also rather frightened, + +"Why?--why do you say that, Mr. Linden?" + +"Do you think you know me?" he said, turning towards her with a little +bit of a smile, though the voice was grave. "Do you think you have any +idea how much I care about you?" + +"I think you do," she said. "I am sure you do--very much!" + +"Do you know how much?"--and the smile was full then, and followed by a +moment's silence. "I shall not try to tell you, Miss Faith; I could not +if I would--but there is something on the other side of the question +which I want you to tell me." + +And Jerry walked slowly up the snowy hill, and the slight tinkle of his +bells was as silvery as the starlight of Orion overhead. + +Faith looked at her questioner and then off again, while a rich colour +was slowly mantling in her cheeks. But the silence was breathless. +Jerry's bells only announced it. And having by that time reached the +top of the hill he chose--and was permitted--to set off at his former +pace; flinging off the snow right and left, and tossing his mane on the +cool night air. Down that hill, and up the next, and down that--and +along a level bit of road to the foot of another,--then slowly. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden when they were half way up, "do you never +mean to speak to me again?" + +A very low-breathed although audible "yes." + +"Is that all you mean to say?--I shall take it very comprehensively." + +She was willing probably that he should take it any way that he +pleased; but to add was as much beyond Faith's power at the moment as +to subtract from her one word. She did not even look. + +"Do you know what this silence is promising?" Mr. Linden said in the +same tone, and bending down by her. "I do--and yet I want to hear you +speak once more. If there is any reason why I should try not to love +you better than all the rest of the world, you must tell me now." + +One other quick, inquiring, astonished glance her eyes gave into his +face; and then, as usual, his wish to have her speak made her speak, +through all the intense difficulty. There was a minute's further +hesitation, and then the words, very low, very simple, and trembling, + +"Do--if you can." + +"Do _try?_" he said in a lower and graver tone. + +"Try?"--she said; then with a change of voice and in very much +confusion,--"O no, Mr. Linden!" + +"I should not succeed"--was all his answer, nor was there time for much +more; for having now turned into the main street where other +homeward-bound sleighs were flying along, there was nothing to do but +fly along with the rest; and a very few minutes brought them home. + +Mr. Skip was probably reposing in parts unknown, for there was no sign +of him at his post; and when Faith had been silently taken out of the +sleigh and into the hall, Mr. Linden went back to Jerry--telling her +she must take good care of herself for five minutes. + +Bewilderedly, and trembling yet, Faith turned into the sitting-room. It +was warm and bright, Mrs. Derrick having only lately left it; and +taking off hood and cloak in a sort of mechanical way, with fingers +that did not feel the strings, she sat down in the easy chair and laid +her head on the arm of it; as very a child as she had been on the night +of that terrible walk;--wondering to herself if this were Christmas +day--if she were Faith Derrick--and if anything were anything!--but +with a wonder of such growing happiness as made it more and more +difficult for her to raise her head up. She dreaded--with an odd kind +of dread which contradicted itself--to hear Mr. Linden come in; and in +the abstract, she would have liked very much to jump up and run away; +but that little intimation was quite enough to hold her fast. She sat +still drawing quick little breaths. The loud voice of the clock near +by, striking its twelve strokes, was not half so distinct to her as +that light step in the hall which came so swiftly and quick to her side. + +"What is the problem now, pretty child?" Mr. Linden said, laying both +hands upon hers,--"it is too late for study to-night. You must wait +till to-morrow and have my help." + +She rose up at that, however gladly she would have hidden the face her +rising revealed; but yet with no awkwardness she stood before him, +rosily grave and shy, and with downcast eyelids that could by no means +lift themselves up to shew what was beneath; a fair combination of the +child's character and the woman's nature in one; both spoken fairly and +fully. Mr. Linden watched her for a minute, softly passing his hand +over that fair brow; then drew her closer. + +"I suppose I may claim Mr. Stoutenburgh's privilege now," he said. But +it was more than that he took. And then with one hand still held fast, +Faith was put back in her chair and wheeled up to the fire "to get +warm," and Mr. Linden sat down by her side. + +Did he really think she needed it, when she was rosy to her fingers' +ends? But what could she do, but be very still and very happy Even as a +flower whose head is heavy with dew,--never more fragrant than then, +yet with the weight of its sweet burden it bends a little;--like that +was the droop of Faith's head at this minute. Whither had the whirl of +this evening whirled her? Faith did not know. She felt as if, to some +harbour of rest, broad and safe; the very one where from its fitness it +seemed she ought to be. But shyly and confusedly, she felt it much as a +man feels the ground, who is near taken off it by a hurricane. Yet she +felt it, for her head drooped more and more. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said, half smiling, half seriously, "what has made +you so sober all this evening--so much afraid of me?" + +The quick answer of the eye stayed not a minute; the blush was more +abiding. + +"You don't want me to tell you that!"--she said in soft pleading. + +"Do you know now who I think has-- + + 'A sweet attractive kind of grace'?" + + +"O don't, please, speak so, Mr. Linden!" she said bowing her face in +her hands,--"it don't belong to me."--And pressing her hands closer, +she added, "_You_ have made me all I am--that is anything." + +"There is one thing I mean to make you--if I live," he answered +smiling, and taking down her hand. "Faith, what do you mean by talking +to me in that style?--haven't you just given me leave to think what I +like of you? You deserve another half hour's silent penance." + +A little bit of smile broke upon her face which for an instant she +tried to hide with her other hand. But she dropped that and turned the +face towards him, rosy, grave, and happy, more than she knew, or she +perhaps would have hidden it again. Her eyes indeed only saw his and +fell instantly; and her words began and stopped. + +"There is one comfort--" + +"What, dear child?" + +"That you know what to think," she said, looking up with a face that +evidently rested in the confidence of that fact. + +"About what?" Mr. Linden said with an amused look. "I have known what +to think about _you_ for some time." + +"I meant that,"--she said quietly and with very downcast eyes again. + +"I am not in a good mood for riddles to-night," said Mr. Linden,--"just +what does this one mean?" + +"Nothing, only--" said Faith flushing,--"you said--" + +She was near breaking down in sheer confusion, but she rallied and went +on. "You said I had given you leave to think what you liked of me,--and +I say it is a comfort that you know _what_ to think." + +Mr. Linden laughed. + +"You are a dear little child!" he said. "Being just the most precious +thing in the world to me, you sit there and rejoice that I am in no +danger of overestimating you--which is profoundly true. My comfort in +knowing what to think, runs in a different line." + +It is hard to describe Faith's look; it was a mixture of so many +things. It was wondering, and shamefaced; and curious for its blending +of humility and gladness; but gladness moved to such a point as to be +near the edge of sorrowful expression. She would not have permitted it +to choose such expression, and indeed it easily took another line; for +even as she looked, her eye caught the light from Mr. Linden's and the +gravity of her face broke in a sunny and somewhat obstinate smile, +which Faith would have controlled if she could. + +"That penance was not so very bad," she said, perhaps by way of +diversion. + +"I enjoyed it," said Mr. Linden,--"I am not sure that everybody else +did. Are you longing for another piece of rest?--Look up at me, and let +me see if _I_ ought to keep you here any longer." + +She obeyed, though shyly; the smile lingering round her lips yet, and +her whole face, to tell the truth, bearing much more resemblance to the +dawn of a May morning than to the middle of a December night. Mr. +Linden was in some danger of forgetting why he had asked to see it; but +when her eyes fell beneath his, then he remembered. + +"I must let you go," he said,--"I suppose the sooner I do that, the +sooner I may hope to see you again. Will you sleep diligently, to that +end?" + +"I don't know--" she said softly; rising at the same time to gather up +her wrappers which lay strewed about, around and under her. Her lips +had the first answer to that; only as he let her go Mr. Linden said, + +"You must try." + +And a little scarce-spoken "yes" promised it. + +It was easier than she thought. When Faith had got to her room, when +she had as usual laid down her heart's burden--joyful or careful--in +her prayer, there came soon a great subsiding; and mind and body slept, +as sleep comes to an exhausted child; or as those sleep, at any age, +whose hearts bear no weight which God's hand can bear for them, and who +are contented to leave their dearest things to the same hand. There was +no "ravelled sleeve of care" ever in Faith's mind, for sleep to knit +up; but "tired nature's sweet restorer" she needed like the rest of the +human family; and on this occasion sleep did her work without let or +hindrance from the time ten minutes after Faith's head touched her +pillow till the sun was strong and bright on the morning of the 26th of +December. Yes, and pretty high up too; for the first thing that fell +upon her waking senses was eight clear strokes of the town clock. + +Faith got up and dressed herself in a great hurry and in absolute +dismay; blushing to think where was her mother; and breakfast--and +everybody--all this while, and what everybody was thinking of her. From +her room Faith went straight to dairy and kitchen. She wanted her hands +full this morning. But her duties in the kitchen were done; breakfast +was only waiting, and her mother talking to the butcher. Faith stood +till he was dismissed and had turned his back, and then came into Mrs. +Derrick's arms. + +"Mother!--why _didn't_ you call me!" + +"Pretty child!" was the fond answer, "why should I?--I've been up to +look at you half a dozen times, Faith, to make sure you were not sick; +but Mr. Linden said he was in no hurry for breakfast--and of course I +wasn't. Did you have a good time last night?" + +"I should think you _ought_ to be in a hurry for breakfast by this +time." And Faith busied herself in helping Cindy put the breakfast on +the table. + +"You run and call Mr. Linden, child," said her mother, "and I'll see to +this. He was here till a minute ago, and then some of the boys wanted +to see him." + +Faith turned away, but with no sort of mind to present herself before +the boys, and in tolerable fear of presenting herself before anybody. +The closing hall door informed her that one danger was over; and +forcing herself to brave the other, she passed into the sitting-room +just as Mr. Linden reëntered it from the hall. Very timidly then she +advanced a few steps to meet him and stood still, with cheeks as rosy +as it was possible to be, and eyes that dared not lift themselves up. + +The greeting she had did not help either matter very much, but that +could not be helped either. + +"What colour are your cheeks under all these roses?" Mr. Linden said +smiling at her. "My dear Faith, were you quite tired out?" + +"No--You must think so," she said with stammering lips--"but breakfast +is ready at last. If you'll go in--I'll come, Mr. Linden." + +"Do you want me to go in first?" + +"Yes. I'll come directly." + +He let her go, and went in as she desired; and having persuaded Mrs. +Derrick that as breakfast was on the table it had better have prompt +attention, Mr. Linden engaged her with a lively account of the people, +dresses, and doings, which had graced the Christmas party; keeping her +mind pretty well on that subject both before and after Faith made her +appearance. How little it engrossed him, only one person at the table +could even guess. But she knew, and rested herself happily under the +screen he spread out for her; as quiet and demure as anything that ever +sat at a breakfast table yet. And all the attention she received was as +silent as it was careful; not till breakfast was over did Mr. Linden +give her more than a passing word; but then he inquired how soon she +would be ready for philosophy. + +Faith's hesitating answer was "Very soon;"--then as Mr. Linden left the +room she asked, "What are you going to do to-day, mother?" + +"O just the old story," said Mrs. Derrick,--"two or three sick people I +must go and see,--and some well people I'd rather see, by half. It's so +good to have you home, dear!" And she kissed Faith and held her off and +looked at her--several feelings at work in her face. "Pretty child," +she said, "I don't think I ever saw you look so pretty." + +Faith returned the kiss, and hid her face in her mother's neck; more +things than one were in her mind to say, but not one of them could get +out. She could only kiss her mother and hold her fast. The words that +at last came, were a very commonplace remark about--"going to see to +the dinner." + +"I guess you will!" said Mrs. Derrick--"with Mr. Linden waiting for you +in the other room. I wonder what he'd say to you, or to me either. And +besides--people that want to see about dinner must get up earlier in +the morning." + +The words, some of them, were a little moved; but whatever Mrs. Derrick +was thinking of, she did not explain, only bade Faith go off and attend +to her lessons and make up for lost time. + +Which after some scouting round kitchen and dairy, Faith did. She +entered the sitting-room with the little green book in her hand, as +near as possible as she would have done three weeks ago. Not quite. + +She had a bright smile of welcome, and Mr. Linden placed a chair for +her and placed her in it; and then the lessons went on with all their +old gentle care and guidance. More, they could hardly have--though +Faith sometimes fancied there was more; and if the old sobriety was +hard to keep up, still it was done, for her sake. A little play of the +lips which she could sometimes see, was kept within very quiet bounds; +whatever novelty there might be in look or manner was perhaps +unconscious and unavoidable. She might be watched a little more than +formerly, but her work none the less; and Mr. Linden's explanations and +corrections were given with just their old grave freedom, and no more. +And yet how different a thing the lessons were to him!-- + +As to Faith, her hand trembled very much at first, and even her voice; +but for all that, the sunshine within was easy to see, and there came a +bright flash of it sometimes. In spite of timidity and shyness, every +now and then something made her forget herself, and then the sunlight +broke out; to be followed perhaps by a double cloud of gravity. But for +the rest, she worked like a docile pupil, as she always had done. + +Apparently her teacher's thoughts had not been confined to the work, if +they had to her; for when all was done that could be done before +dinner, he made one of those sudden speeches with which he sometimes +indulged himself. + +"Faith--I wish you would ask me to do half a dozen almost impossible +things for you." + +What a pretty wondering look she gave him. One of the flashes of the +sunlight came then. But then came an amused expression. + +"What would be the good of that, Mr. Linden?" + +"I should have the pleasure of doing them." + +"I believe you would," said Faith. "I think the only things quite +impossible to you are wrong things." + +"The only thing you ever did ask of me was impossible," he said with a +smile, upon which there was a shadow too--as if the recollection pained +him. "Child, how could you?--It half broke my heart to withstand you +so, do you know that? I want the almost impossible things to make me +forget it." + +Her lip trembled instantly and her command of herself was nearly gone. +She had risen for something, and as he spoke she came swiftly behind +him, putting herself where he could not see her face, and laid her hand +on his shoulder. It lay there as light as thistle-down; but it was +Faith's mute way of saying a great many things that her voice could not. + +Very quick and tenderly Mr. Linden drew her forward again, and tried +the power of his lips to still hers. + +"Hush, dear child!" he said--"you must not mind any thing I say,--I am +the last person in the world you ought to be afraid of. And you must +not claim it as your prerogative to get before me in danger and behind +me at all other times--because that is just reversing the proper order +of things. Faith, I am going to ask an almost impossible thing of you." + +"What is it?" Faith was secretly glad, for afraid of his _requests_ she +could not be. + +"You will try to do it?" + +"Yes--certainly!" + +"It is only to forget that 'Mr. Linden' is any part of my name," he +said smiling. + +She had been rosy enough before, but now the blood reddened her very +brow, till for one instant she put up her hands to hide it. + +"What then?"--she said in a breathless sort of way. + +"What you like"--he answered brightly. "I have not quite as many names +as a Prince Royal, but still enough to choose from. You may separate, +combine, or invent, at your pleasure." + +There came a summons to dinner then; and part of the hours which should +follow thereafter, Mr. Linden was pledged to spend somewhere with +somebody--away from home. But he promised to be back to tea, and before +that, if he could; and so left Faith to the quiet companionship of her +mother and her lessons--if she felt disposed for them. They were both +in the sitting-room together, Mrs. Derrick and the books,--both helping +the sunlight that came in at the windows. But Faith neglected the +books, and came to her mother's side. She sat down and put her arms +round her, and nestled her head on her mother's bosom, as she had done +in the morning. And then was silent. That might have been just what +Mrs. Derrick expected, she was so very ready for it; her work was +dropped so instantly, her head rested so fondly on Faith's. But her +silence was soon broken. + +"How long do you think I can wait, pretty child?" she said in the +softest, tenderest tone that even she could use. + +"Mother!" said Faith startling. "For what?" + +"Suppose you tell me." + +"Do you know, mother?" said Faith in a low, changed tone and drawing +closer. But Mrs. Derrick only repeated, + +"What, child?" + +"What Mr. Linden has said to me,"--she whispered. + +"I knew what he would"--but the words broke off there, and Mrs. Derrick +rested her head again in silence as absolute as Faith's. + +For awhile; and then Faith lifted up her flushed face and began to kiss +her. + +"Mother!--why don't you speak to me?" + +It was not very easy to speak--Faith could see that; but Mrs. Derrick +did command her voice enough to give a sort of answer. + +"He had my leave, child,--at least he has talked to me about you in a +way that I should have said no to, if I had meant it,--and he knew +that. Do you think I should have let him stay here all this time if I +had _not_ been willing?" + +Faith laid her head down again. + +"Mother--dear mother!"--she said,--"I want more than that!"-- + +She had all she wanted then,--Mrs. Derrick spoke clearly and steadily, +though the tears were falling fast. + +"I am as glad as you are, darling--or as he is,--I cannot say more than +that. So glad that you should be so happy--so glad to have such hands +in which to leave you." The last words were scarce above a whisper. + +Faith was desperate. She did not cry, but she did everything else. With +trembling fingers she stroked her mother's face; with lips that +trembled she kissed her; but Faith's voice was steady, whatever lay +behind it. + +"Mother--mother!--why do you do so? why do you speak so? Does this look +like gladness?" And lips and hands kissed away the tears with an +eagerness that was to the last degree tender. + +"Why yes, child!" her mother said rousing up, and with a little bit of +a smile that did not belie her words,--"I tell you I'm as glad as I can +be!--Tears don't mean anything, Faith,--I can't help crying sometimes. +But I'm just as glad as he is," she repeated, trying her soothing +powers in turn,--"and if you'd seen his face as I did when he went +away, you'd think that was enough. I don't know whether I _could_ be," +she added softly, "if I thought he would take you away from me--but I +know he'll never do that, from something he said once. Why pretty +child! any one but a baby could see this long ago,--and as for that, +Faith, I believe I love him almost as well as you do, this minute." + +The last few minutes had tried Faith more than she could bear, with the +complete reaction that followed. The tears that very rarely made their +way from her eyes in anybody's sight, came now. But they were not +permitted to be many; her mother hardly knew they were come before they +were gone; and half nestling in her arms, Faith lay with her face hid; +silent and quiet. It seemed to Mrs. Derrick as if she was too far off +still, for she lifted Faith softly up, and took her on her lap after +the old childish fashion, kissing her once and again. + +"Now, pretty child," she said, softly stroking the uncovered cheek, +"keep your hands down and tell me all about it. I don't mean every +word," she added smiling, "but all you like to tell." + +But Faith could not do that. She made very lame work of it. She managed +only with much difficulty to give her mother a very sketchy and thin +outline of what she wanted to know; which perhaps was as much as Mrs. +Derrick expected; and was given with a simplicity as bare of additions +as her facts were. A very few words told all she had to tell. Yes, her +mother was satisfied,--she loved to hear Faith speak those few words, +and to watch her the while--herself supplying all deficiencies; and +then was content that her child should lie still and go to sleep, if +she chose--it was enough to look at her and think: rejoicing with her +and for her with a very pure joy, if it was sometimes tearful. + +Faith presently changed her position, and gave a very particular +attention to the smoothing of the hair over her mother's forehead. Then +pulling her cap straight, and giving her a finishing look and kiss, she +took a low seat close beside her, laid one of her study books on her +mother's lap, resting one arm there fondly, and went hard to work +remarking however that Mrs. Derrick might talk as much as she liked and +she would talk too. But Mrs. Derrick either did not want to talk, or +else she did not want to interrupt; for she watched Faith and smiled +upon her, and stroked her hair, and said very little. + +Just at the end of the afternoon, when Faith was finishing her work by +firelight, Mr. Linden came in. She did not see the look that passed +between her mother and him--she only knew that they held each other's +hands for a minute silently,--then one of the hands was laid upon her +forehead. + +"Little student--do you want to try the fresh air?" + +She said yes; and without raising her eyes, ran off to get ready. In +another minute she was out in the cool freshness of the December +twilight. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + +The walk lasted till all the afterglow had faded and all the stars come +out, and till half Pattaquasset had done tea; having its own glow and +starlight, and its flow of conversation to which the table talk was +nothing. + +Of course, Faith's first business on reaching home was to see about the +tea. She and Mrs. Derrick were happily engaged together in various +preparations, and Mr. Linden alone in the sitting-room, when the +unwelcome sound of a knock came at the front door; and the next minute +his solitude was broken in upon. + +"Good evening!" said the doctor. "Three-quarters of a mile off 'I heard +the clarion of the unseen midge!' so I thought it was best to come to +close quarters with the enemy.--There is nothing so annoying as a +distant humming in your ears. How do you do?" He had come up and laid +his hand on Mr. Linden's shoulder before the latter had time to rise. + +"What a perverse taste!" Mr. Linden said, laughing and springing up. +"All the rest of the world think a near-by humming so much worse." + +"Can't distinguish at a distance," said the doctor;--"one doesn't know +whether it's a midge or a dragon-fly. How is Mignonette? and +Mignonette's mother?" + +"They were both well the last time I saw them. In what sort of a calm +flutter are you, doctor?" + +"Do you think that is my character?" said the doctor, taking his +favourite position on the rug. + +"You go straight to the fire--like all the rest of the tribe," said Mr. +Linden. + +"Is it inconsistent with the character of such an extra ordinary midge, +to go straight to the mark?" + +"Nobody ever saw a midge do that yet, I'll venture to say." + +"And you are resolved to act in character," said the doctor gravely. +"You have got clean away from the point. I asked you last night to tell +me what you thought of me. We are alone now--do it, Linden!" + +"Why do you want to know?" + +"I don't know. A man likes to talk of himself--cela s'entend--but I +care enough about you, to care to know how I stand in your thoughts. If +you asked me how I stand in my own, I could not tell you; and I should +like to know how the just balances of your mind--I'm not talking +ironically, Linden,--weigh and poise me;--what sort of alloy your +mental tests make me out. No matter why!--indulge me, and let me have +it. I presume it is nothing better than philosophical curiosity. I +am--every man is to himself--an enigma--a mystery;--and I should like +to have a sudden outside view--from optics that I have some respect +for." + +"I gave you the outside view last night," Mr. Linden said. But then he +came and stood near the doctor and answered him simply; speaking with +that grave gentleness of interest which rarely failed to give the +speaker a place in people's hearts, even when his words failed of it. + +"I think much of you, in the first place,--and in the second place, I +wish you would let me think more;--you stand in my thoughts as an +object of very warm interest, of very earnest prayer. Measured--not by +my standards, but by those which the word of God sets up, you are like +your own admirably made and adjusted microscope, with all the higher +powers left off. The only enigma, the only mystery is, that you +yourself cannot see this." + +Dr. Harrison looked at him with a grave, considerative face, drawing a +little back; perhaps to do it the better. + +"Do you mean to say, that _you_ do such a thing as pray for _me?_" + +A slight, sweet smile came with the answer--"Can you doubt it?" + +"Why I might very reasonably doubt it,--though not your word. Why do +you,--may I ask?" + +"What can I do for a man in deadly peril, whom my arm cannot reach?" +The tone was very kindly, very earnest; the eyes with their deep light +looked full into the doctor's. + +Dr. Harrison was silent, meeting the look and taking the depth and +meaning of it, so far as fathomable by him. The two faces and figures, +fine as they both were, made a strange contrast. The doctor's face was +in one of its serious and good expressions; but the other had come from +a region of light which this one had never entered. And even in +attitude--the dignified unconsciousness of the one, was very different +from the satisfied carelessness of the other. + +"May I further ask," he said in a softened tone,--"why you do this for +me?" + +"Because I care about you." + +"It's incredible!" said the doctor, his eye wavering, however. "One man +care about another! Why, man, I may be the worst enemy you have in the +world, for aught you know." + +"That cannot hinder my being your friend." + +"Do you know," said the other looking at him half curiously,--"I am +ready to do such a foolish thing as to believe you? Well--be as much of +a friend to me as you can; and I'll deserve it as well as I can--which +maybe won't be very well. Indeed that is most likely!" He had stretched +out his hand to Mr. Linden however, and clasped his warmly. He quitted +it now to go forward and take that of Faith. + +She came in just as usual, and met the doctor with her wonted manner; +only the crimson stain on her cheek telling anything against her. She +did not give him much chance to observe that; for Cindy followed her +with the tea things and Faith busied herself about the table. The +doctor went back to his stand and watched her. + +"Mignonette has changed colour," he remarked presently. "How is that, +Miss Derrick?" + +"How is what, sir?" + +"How come you to change the proper characteristics of mignonette? Don't +you know that never shews high brilliancy?" + +"I suppose I am not mignonette to-night," said Faith, returning to the +safer observation of the tea-table. + +"Are you my flower, then? the Rhodora?" he said with a lowered tone, +coming near her. + +If Faith heard, she did not seem to hear this question. Her attention +was bestowed upon the preparations for tea, till Mrs. Derrick came in +to make it; and then Faith found a great deal to do in the care of the +other duties of the table. It was a mystery, how she managed it; she +who generally had as much leisure at meals as anybody wanted. Dr. +Harrison's attention however was no longer exclusively given to her. + +"Do you _always_ have these muffins for tea, Mrs. Derrick?" he remarked +with his second essay. + +"Why no!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"we have all sorts of other things. Don't +you like muffins, doctor?" + +"Like them!" said the doctor. "I am thinking what a happy man Mr. +Linden must be." + +"Marvellously true!" said Mr. Linden. "I hope you'll go home and write +a new 'Search after happiness,' ending it sentimentally in muffins." + +"Not so," said the doctor. "I should only begin it in muffins--as I am +doing. But my remark after all had a point;--for I was thinking of the +possibility of detaching anybody from such a periodical attraction. +Mrs. Derrick, I am the bearer of an humble message to you from my +sister and father--who covet the honour and pleasure of your presence +to-morrow evening. Sophy makes me useful, when she can. I hope you will +give me a gracious answer--for yourself and Miss Faith, and so make me +useful again. It is a rare chance! I am not often good for anything." + +"I don't know whether I know how to give what you call gracious +answers, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick pleasantly. "I'm very much obliged +to Miss Sophy, but I never go anywhere at night." + +With the other two the doctor's mission was more successful; and then +he disclosed the other object of his visit. + +"Miss Derrick, do you remember I once threatened to bring the play of +Portia here--and introduce her to you?" + +"I remember it," said Faith. + +"Would it be pleasant to you that I should fulfil my threat this +evening?" + +"I don't know, sir," said Faith smiling,--"till I hear the play." + +"Mr. Linden,--what do you think?" said the doctor, also with a smile. + +"I am ready for anything--if you will let me be impolite enough to +finish writing a letter while I hear the first part of your reading." + +"To change the subject slightly--what do you suppose, Mr. Linden, would +on the whole be the effect, on society, if the hand of Truth were in +every case to be presented without a glove?" The doctor spoke gravely +now. + +"The effect would be that society would shake hands more cordially--I +should think," said Mr. Linden; "though it is hard to say how such an +extreme proposition would work." + +"Do you know, it strikes me that it would work just the other way, and +that hands would presently clasp nothing but daggers' hilts. But there +is another question.--How will one fair hand of truth live among a +crowd of steel gauntlets?" + +"_What?_" Mr. Linden said, with a little bending of his brows upon the +doctor. "I am wearing neither glove nor gauntlet,--what are you talking +about?--And my half-finished letter is a fact and no pretence." + +"I sha'n't believe you," said the doctor, "if you give my fingers such +a wring as that. Well, go to your letter, and I'll take Miss Derrick to +Venice--if she will let me." + +Venice!--That exquisite photograph of the Bridge of Sighs, and "the +palace and the prison on each hand," about which such a long, long +entrancing account had been given by Mr. Linden to her--the scene and +the talk rose up before Faith's imagination; she was very ready to go +to Venice. Its witching scenery, its strange history, floated up, in a +fascinating, strange cloud-view; she was ready for Shylock and the +Rialto. Nay, for the Rialto, not for Shylock; him, or anything like +him, she had never seen nor imagined. She was only sorry that Mr. +Linden had to go to his letter; but there was a compensative side to +that, for her shyness was somewhat less endangered. With only the +doctor and Shylock to attend to, she could get along very well. + +Shyness and fears however, were of very short endurance. To Venice she +went,--Shylock she saw; and then she saw nothing else but Shylock, and +those who were dealing with him; unless an occasional slight glance +towards the distant table where Mr. Linden sat at his writing, might be +held to signify that she _had_ powers of vision for somewhat else. It +did not interrupt the doctor's pleasure, nor her own. Dr. Harrison had +begun with at least a double motive in his mind; but man of the world +as he was, he forgot his unsatisfied curiosity in the singular +gratification of reading such a play to such a listener. It was so +plain that Faith was in Venice! She entered with such simplicity, and +also with such intelligence, into the characters and interests of the +persons in the drama; she relished their words so well; she weighed in +such a nice balance of her own the right and the wrong, the true and +the false, of whatever rested on nature and truth for its proper +judgment;--she was so perfectly and deliciously ignorant of the world +and the ways of it! The fresh view that such pure eyes took of such +actors and scenes, was indescribably interesting; Dr. Harrison found it +the best play he had ever read in his life. He made it convenient +sometimes to pause to indoctrinate Faith in characters or customs of +which she had no adequate knowledge; it did not hurt her pleasure; it +was all part of the play. + +In the second scene, the doctor stopped to explain the terms on which +Portia had been left with her suitors. + +"What do you think of it?" + +"I think it was hard," said Faith smiling. + +"What would you have done if you had been left so?" + +"I would not have been left so." + +"But you might not help yourself. Suppose it had been a father's or a +mother's command? that anybody might come up and have you, for the +finding--if they could pitch upon the right box of jewelry?" + +"My father or mother would never have put such a command on me," said +Faith looking amused. + +"But you may _suppose_ anything," said the doctor leaning forward and +smiling. "_Suppose_ they had?" + +"Then you must suppose me different too," said Faith laughing. "Suppose +me to have been like Portia; and I should have done as she did." + +The doctor shook his head and looked gravely at her. + +"Are you so impracticable?" + +"Was she?" said Faith. + +"Then you wouldn't think it right to obey Mrs. Derrick in all +circumstances?" + +"Not if she was Portia's mother," said Faith. + +"Suppose you had been the Prince of Arragon--which casket would you +have chosen?" said Mr. Linden, as he came from his table, letter in +hand. + +"I suppose I should have chosen as he did," said the doctor +carelessly--"I really don't remember how that was. I'll tell you when I +come to him. Have you done letter-writing?" + +"I have done writing letters, for to-night. Have I permission to go to +Venice in your train?" + +"I am only a locomotive," said the doctor. "But you know, with two a +train goes faster. If you had another copy of the play, now, +Linden--and we should read it as I have read Shakspeare in certain +former times--take different parts--I presume the effect would excel +steam-power, and be electric. Can you?" + +This was agreed to, and the "effect" almost equalled the doctor's +prognostications. Even Mrs. Derrick, who had somewhat carelessly held +aloof from his single presentation of the play, was fascinated now, and +drew near and dropped her knitting. It would have been a very rare +entertainment to any that had heard it; but for once an audience of two +was sufficient for the stimulus and reward of the readers. That and the +actual enjoyment of the parts they were playing. Dr. Harrison read +well, with cultivated and critical accuracy. His voice was good and +melodious, his English enunciation excellent; his knowledge of his +author thorough, as far as acquaintanceship went; and his habit of +reading a dramatically practised one. But Faith, amid all her delight, +had felt a want in it, as compared with the reading to which of late +she had been accustomed; it did not give the soul and heart of the +author--though it gave everything else. _That_ is what only soul and +heart can do. Not that Dr. Harrison was entirely wanting in those gifts +either; they lay somewhere, perhaps, in him; but they are not the ones +which in what is called "the world" come most often or readily into +play; and so it falls out that one who lives there long becomes like +the cork oak when it has stood long untouched in _its_ world; the heart +is encrusted with a monstrous thick, almost impenetrable, coating of +bark. When Mr. Linden joined the reading, the pleasure was perfect; the +very contrast between the two characters and the two voices made the +illusion more happy. Then Faith was in a little danger of betraying +herself; for it was difficult to look at both readers with the same +eyes; and if she tried to keep her eyes at home, that was more +difficult still. + +In the second act, Portia says to Arragon, + + "In terms of choice I am not solely led + By nice direction of a maiden's eyes," etc. + + +"What do you think of that, Miss Derrick?" said the doctor pausing when +his turn came. "Do you think a lady's choice ought to be so determined?" + +Faith raised her eyes, and answered, "No, sir." + +"By what then? You don't trust appearances?" + +Faith hesitated. + +"I should like to hear how Portia managed," she said, with a little +heightened colour. "I never thought much about it." + +"What do you think of Portia's gloves, doctor?" said Mr. Linden. + +"Hum"--said the doctor. "They are a pattern!--soft as steel, harsh as +kid-leather. They fit too, so exquisitely! But, if I were marrying her, +I think I should request that she would give her gloves into my +keeping." + +"Then would your exercise of power be properly thwarted. Every time you +made the demand, Portia would, like a juggler, pull off and surrender a +fresh pair of gloves, leaving ever a pair yet finer-spun upon her +hands." + +"I suppose she would," said the doctor comically. "Come! I won't marry +her. And yet, Linden,--one might do worse. Such gloves keep off a +wonderful amount of friction." + +"If you happen to have fur which cannot be even _stroked_ the wrong +way!" + +The doctor's eye glanced with fun, and Faith laughed The reading went +on. And went on without much pausing, until the lines-- + + "O ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly + To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont + To keep obliged faith unforfeited! + ----Who riseth from a feast, + With that keen appetite that he sits down? + Where is the horse, that doth untread again + His tedious measures with the unbated fire + That he did pace them first? All things that are, + Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed." + + +"Do you believe in that doctrine, Miss Faith?" said the doctor, with a +gentle look in her direction. + +"I suppose it is true of some things,"--she said after a minute's +consideration. + +"What a wicked truth it is, Linden!" said the doctor. + +"There is 'an error i' the bill,'" said Mr. Linden. + +Faith's eyes looked somewhat eagerly, the doctor's philosophically. + +"Declare and shew," said the doctor. "I thought it was a universal, +most deplorable, human fact; and here it is, in Shakspeare, man; which +is another word for saying it is in humanity." + +"It is true only of false things. The Magician's coins are next day but +withered leaves--the real gold is at compound interest." + +The doctor's smile was doubtful and cynical; Faith's had a touch of +sunlight on it. + +"Where is your 'real gold'?" said the doctor. + +"Do you expect me to tell you?" said Mr. Linden laughing. "I have found +a good deal in the course of my life, and the interest is regularly +paid in." + +"Are you talking seriously?" + +"Ay truly. So may you." + +"From any other man, I should throw away your words as the veriest +Magician's coin; but if they are true metal--why I'll ask you to take +me to see the Mint some day!" + +"Let me remind you," said Mr. Linden, "that there are many things in +Shakspeare. What do you think of this, for a set-off?-- + + 'Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks + Within his bending sickle's compass come; + Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, + But bears it out e'en to the edge of doom. + If this be error, and upon me proved, + I never writ, nor no man ever loved.'" + + +"There's an error proved upon _me_," said the doctor, biting his lips +as he looked at Faith who had listened delightedly. "Come on! I'll stop +no more. The thing is, Linden, that I am less happy than you--I never +found any real gold in my life!" + +"Ah you expect gold to come set with diamonds,--and that cannot always +be. I don't doubt you have gold enough to start a large fortune, if you +would only rub it up and make it productive." + +The doctor made no answer to that, and the reading went on; Faith +becoming exceedingly engrossed with the progress of the drama. She +listened with an eagerness which both the readers amusedly took heed +of, as the successive princes of Morocco and Arragon made their trial: +the doctor avowing by the way, that he thought he should have "assumed +desert" as the latter prince did, and received the fool's head for his +pains. Then they came to the beautiful "casket scene." The doctor had +somehow from the beginning left Portia in Mr. Linden's hands; and now +gave with great truth and gracefulness the very graceful words of her +successful suitor. He could put truth into these, and did, and +accordingly read beautifully; well heard, for the play of Faith's +varying face shewed she went along thoroughly with all the fine turns +of thought and feeling; here and elsewhere. But how well and how +delicately Mr. Linden gave Portia! That Dr. Harrison could not have +done; the parts had fallen out happily, whether by chance or design. +Her ladylike and coy play with words--her transparent veil of delicate +shifting turns of expression--contriving to say all and yet as if she +would say nothing--were rendered by the reader with a grace of tone +every way fit to them. Faith's eye ceased to look at anybody, and her +colour flitted, as this scene went on; and when Portia's address to her +fortunate wooer was reached--that very noble and dignified declaration +of her woman's mind, when she certainly pulled off her gloves, wherever +else she might wear them;--Faith turned her face quite away from the +readers and with the cheek she could not hide sheltered by her hand--as +well as her hand could--she let nobody but the fire and Mrs. Derrick +see what a flush covered the other. Very incautious in Faith, but it +was the best she could do. And the varied interests that immediately +followed, of Antonio's danger and deliverance, gradually brought her +head round again and accounted sufficiently for the colour with which +her cheeks still burned. The Merchant of Venice was not the only play +enacting that evening; and the temptation to break in upon the one, +made the doctor, as often as he could, break off the other; though the +interest of the plot for a while gave him little chance. + + "So shines a good deed in a naughty world." + + +"Do you suppose, Miss Derrick," said Dr. Harrison with his look of +amused pleasure,--"that is because the world is so dark?--or because +the effects of the good deed reach to such a distance?" + +"Both," said Faith immediately. + +"You think the world is so bad?" + +"I don't know much of the world," said Faith,--"but I suppose the +_shining_ good deeds aren't so very many." + +"What makes a good deed _shining?_" said the doctor. + +Faith glanced at Mr. Linden. But he did not take it up, and she was +thrown back upon her own resources. She thought a bit. + +"I suppose,"--she said,--"its coming from the very spirit of light." + +"You must explain," said the doctor good-humouredly but smiling,--"for +that puts me in absolute darkness." + +"I don't know very well how to tell what I mean," said Faith colouring +and looking thoughtful;--"I think I know. Things that are done for the +pure love of God and truth, I think, shine; if they are ever so little +things, because really there is a great light in them. I think they +shine more than some of the greater things that people call very +brilliant, but that are done from a lower motive." + +"I should like"--said the doctor--"Can you remember an instance or two? +of both kinds?" + +Well Faith remembered an instance or two of _one_ kind, which she could +not instance. She sought in her memory. + +"When Daniel kneeled upon his knees three times a day to pray, with his +windows open, after the king's law had for bidden any one to do it on +pain of death,--" said Faith.--"I think that was a shining good deed!" + +"But that was a very notable instance," said the doctor. + +"It was a very little thing he did," said Faith. "Only kneeled down to +pray in his own room. And it has shined all the way down to us." + +"And in later times," said Mr. Linden,--"when the exploring shallop of +the Mayflower sought a place of settlement, and after beating about in +winter storms came to anchor Friday night at Plymouth Rock;--all +Saturday was lost in refitting and preparing, and yet on Sunday they +would not land. Those two dozen men, with no human eye to see, with +every possible need for haste!" + +"That hasn't shined quite so far," said the doctor, "for it never +reached me. And it don't enlighten me now! I should have landed." + +"Do you know nothing of the _spirit_ of Say and Seal, as well as the +province?" said Mr. Linden. + +"As how, against landing?" + +"They rested that day '_according to the commandment_.' Having promised +to obey God in all things, the seal of their obedience was unbroken." + +"Well, Miss Faith," said the doctor--"Now for a counter example." + +"I know so little of what has been done," said Faith. "Don't you +remember some such things yourself, Dr. Harrison?--Mr. Linden?"--The +voice changed and fell a little as it passed from one to the other. + +"General Putnam went into the wolf's den, and pulled him out"--said the +doctor humorously,--"that's all I can think of just now, and it is not +very much in point. I don't know that there was anything very bright +about it except the wolf's eyes!--But here we are keeping Portia out of +doors, and Miss Derrick waiting! Linden--fall to." And with comical +life and dramatic zeal on the doctor's part, in a few minutes more, the +play was finished. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said the doctor gravely as he rose and stood before +her,--"I hope you approve of plays." + +Mrs. Derrick expressed her amusement and satisfaction. + +"Miss Faith," he said extending his hand,--"I have to thank you for the +most perfect enjoyment I have ever had of Shakspeare. I only wish +to-morrow evening would roll off on such swift wheels--but it would be +too much. Look where this one has rolled to!" And he shewed his watch +and hurried off; that is, if Dr. Harrison could be said to do such a +thing. + +The rest of the party also were stirred from their quiet. Mrs Derrick +went out; and Mr. Linden, coming behind Faith as she stood by the fire, +gently raised her face till he could have a full view of it, and asked +her how she liked being in Venice? + +"Very much," she said, smiling and blushing at him,--"very much!" + +"You are not the magician's coin!" he said, kissing her. "You are not +even a witch. Do you know how I found that out?" + +"No"--she said softly, the colour spreading over her face and her eyes +falling, but raised again immediately to ask the question of him. + +"A witch's charms are always dispelled whenever she tries to cross +running water!"-- + +She laughed; an amused, bright, happy little laugh, that it was +pleasant to hear. + +"But what did Dr. Harrison mean,--by what he said when he thanked me? +What did he thank me for?" + +"He _said_--for a new enjoyment of Shakspeare." + +"What did he mean?" + +"Do you understand how the sweet fragrance of mignonette can give new +enjoyment to a summer's day?" + +She blushed exceedingly. "But, Mr. Linden, please don't talk so! And I +don't want to give Dr. Harrison enjoyment in that way." + +"Which part of your sentence shall I handle first?" he said with a +laughing flash of the eyes,--"'Dr. Harrison'--or 'Mr. Linden'?" + +"The first," said Faith laying her hand deprecatingly on his arm;--"and +let the other alone!" + +"How am I to 'please not to talk'?" + +"So--as I don't deserve," she said raising her grave eyes to his face. +"I would rather have you tell me my wrong things." + +He looked at her, with one of those rare smiles which belonged to her; +holding her hand with a little soft motion of it to and fro upon his +own. + +"I am not sure that I dare promise 'to be good,'" he said,--"I am so +apt to speak of things as I find them. And Mignonette you are to +me--both in French and English. Faith, I know there is no glove upon +your hand,--and I know there is none on mine; but I cannot feel, nor +imagine, any friction,--can you?" + +She looked up and smiled. So much friction or promise of it, as there +is about the blue sky's reflection in the clear deep waters of a +mountain lake--so much there was in the soft depth--and reflection--of +Faith's eyes at that moment. So deep,--so unruffled;--and as in the +lake, so in the look that he saw, there was a mingling of earth and +heaven. + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + +Wednesday morning was cold and raw, and the sun presently put on a +thick grey cloak. There were suspicions abroad that it was one made in +the regions of perpetual snow, for whatever effect it might have had +upon the sun, it made the earth very cold. Now and then a little +frozen-up snowflake came silently down, and the wind swept fitfully +round the corners of houses, and wandered up and down the chimneys. +People who were out subsided into a little trot to keep themselves +warm, all except the younger part of creation, who made the trot a run; +and those who could, staid at home. + +All of Mrs. Derrick's little family were of this latter class, after +the very early morning; for as some of them were to brave the weather +at night, there seemed no reason why they should also brave it by day. +As speedily as might be, Mr. Linden despatched his various matters of +outdoor business, of which there were always more or less on his hands, +and then came back and went into the sitting-room to look for his +scholar. In two minutes she came in from the other door, with the stir +of business and the cold morning fresh in her cheeks. But no one would +guess--no one could ever guess, from Faith's brown dress and white +rufffles, that she had just been flying about in the kitchen--to use +Cindy's elegant illustration--"like shelled peas"; not quite so +aimlessly, however. And her smiling glance at her teacher spoke of +readiness for all sorts of other business. + +The first thing she was set about was her French exercise, during the +first few lines of which Mr. Linden stood by her and looked on. But +then he suddenly turned away and went up stairs--returning however, +presently, to take his usual seat by her side. He watched her progress +silently, except for business words and instructions, till the exercise +was finished and Faith had turned to him for further directions; then +taking her hand he put upon its forefinger one of the prettiest things +she had ever seen. It was an old-fashioned diamond ring; the stones all +of a size, and of great clearness and lustre, set close upon each other +all the way round; with just enough goldsmith's work to bind them +together, and to form a dainty frill of filagree work above and +below--looking almost like a gold line of shadow by that flashing line +of light. + +"It was my mother's, Faith," he said, "and she gave it to me in trust +for whatever lady I should love as I love you." + +Faith looked down at it with very, very grave eyes. Her head bent +lower, and then suddenly laying her hands together on the table she hid +her face in them; and the diamonds glittered against her temple and in +contrast with the neighbouring soft hair. + +One or two mute questions came there, before Mr. Linden said softly, +"Faith!" She looked up with flushed face, and all of tears in her eyes +_but_ the tears; and her lip had its very unbent line. She looked first +at him and then at the ring again. Anything more humble or more grave +than her look cannot be imagined. His face was grave too, with a sort +of moved gravity, that touched both the present and the past, but he +did not mean hers should be. + +"Now what will you do, dear child?" he said. "For I must forewarn you +that there is a language of rings which is well established in the +world." + +"What--do you mean?" she said, looking alternately at the ring and him. + +"You know what plain gold on this finger means?" he said, touching the +one he spoke of. She looked at first doubtfully, then coloured and said +"yes." + +"Well diamonds on _this_ finger are understood to be the avant-couriers +of that." + +Faith had never seen diamonds; but that was not what she was thinking +of, nor what brought such a deep spot of colour on her cheeks. It was +pretty to see, it was so bright and so different from the flush which +had been there a few minutes before. Her eyes considered the diamonds +attentively. + +"What shall I do?" she said after a little. + +"I don't know--you must try your powers of contrivance." + +"I cannot contrive. I could keep ray glove on to-night; but I could not +every day. Shall I give it back to you to keep for me?"--she said +looking at it lovingly. "Perhaps that will be best!--What would you +like me to do?" + +"Anything _but_ that," he said smiling,--"I should say that would be +worst. You may wear a glove, or glove-finger--what you will; but there +it must stay, and keep possession for me, till the other one comes to +bear it company. In fact I suppose I _could_ endure to have it seen!" + +Her eyes went down to it again. Clearly the ring had a charm for Faith. +And so it had, something beyond the glitter of brilliants. Of +jewellers' value she knew little; the marketable worth of the thing was +an enigma to her. But as a treasure of another kind it was beyond +price. His mother's ring, on _her_ finger--to Faith's fancy it bound +and pledged her to a round of life as perfect, as bright, and as pure, +as its own circlet of light-giving gems. That she might fill to him--as +far as was possible--all the place that the once owner of the diamonds +would have looked for and desired; and be all that _he_ would look for +in the person to whom the ring, so derived, had come. Faith considered +it lovingly, with intent brow, and at last lifted her eyes to Mr. +Linden by way of answer; without saying anything, yet with half her +thoughts in her face. His face was very grave--Faith could see a little +what the flashing of that ring was to him; but her look was met and +answered with a fulness of warmth and tenderness which said that he had +read her thoughts, and that to his mind they were already accomplished. +Then he took up one of her books and opened it at the place where she +was to read. + +The morning, and the afternoon, went off all too fast, and the sun went +down sullenly. As if to be in keeping with the expected change of work +and company, the evening brought worse weather,--a keener +wind--beginning to bestir itself in earnest, a thicker sky; though the +ground was too snow-covered already to allow it to be very dark. With +anybody but Mr. Linden, Mrs. Derrick would hardly have let Faith go +out; and even as it was, she several times hoped the weather would +moderate before they came home. Faith was so well wrapped up however, +both in the house and in the sleigh, that the weather gave her no +discomfort; it was rather exhilarating to be so warm in spite of it; +and they flew along at a good rate, having the road pretty much to +themselves. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said as they approached Judge Harrison's, "I cannot +spend all the evening here with you--that is, I ought not. I had a +message sent me this afternoon--too late to attend to then, which I +cannot leave till morning. But if I see you safe by the fire, I hope +Miss Harrison will take good care of you till I get back." + +"Well," said Faith,--"I wouldn't meddle with your 'oughts,'--if I +could. I hope you'll take care of Jerry!"-- + +"What shall I do with him?" + +"Don't you know?" said Faith demurely. + +"I suppose I ought to drive him so fast that he'll keep warm," said Mr. +Linden. "What else?" + +Faith's little laugh made a contrast with the rough night. "You had +better let me get out to the fire," she said joy fully,--"or _I_ +sha'n't keep warm." + +"You sha'n't?" he said bending down by her, as they reached the +door,--"your face has no idea of being cold!--I'll take care of Jerry, +child--if I don't forget him in my own pleasant thoughts." + +Faith threw off her cloak and furs on the hall table where some others +lay, and pulled off one glove. + +"Keep them both on!" Mr. Linden said softly and smiling,--"enact Portia +for once. Then if you are much urged, you can gracefully yield your own +prejudices so far as to take off one." + +She looked at him, then amusedly pulled on her glove again; and the +door was opened for them into a region of warmth and brightness; where +there were all sorts of rejoicings over them and against the cold +night. Mr. Linden was by force persuaded to wait till after coffee +before braving it again; and the Judge and his daughter fairly involved +Faith in the meshes of their kindness. A very mouse Faith was to-night, +as ever wore gloves; and with a little of a mouse's watchfulness about +her, fancying cat's ears at every corner. A brown mouse too; she had +worn only her finest and best stuff dress. But upon the breast of that, +a bunch of snowy Laurustinus, nestling among green leaves, put forth a +secret claim in a way that was very beautifying. The Judge and Miss +Sophy put her in a great soft velvet chair and hovered round her, both +of them conscious of her being a little more dainty than usual. Sophy +thought perhaps it was the Laurustinus; her father believed it +intrinsic. + +The coffee came, and the doctor. + +"I have something better for you than Portia to-night"--he said as he +dealt out sugar,--"though not something better than muffins." + +"Faith, my dear child," said Miss Sophy,--"you needn't be so +ceremonious--none of us are wearing gloves." + +Faith laughed and blushed and pulled off one glove. + +"You are enacting Portia, are you?" said Dr. Harrison. "Even she would +not have handled wigs with them. I see I have done mischief! But the +harm I did you last night I will undo this evening. Ladies and +Gentlemen!--I will give you, presently, the pleasure of hearing some +lines written expressive of my wishes toward the unknown--but +supposed--mistress of my life and affections. Any suggestions toward +the bettering of them--I will hear." + +"The bettering of what?" said Mrs. Somers,--"your life and affections?" + +"I am aware, my dear aunt Ellen, you think the one impossible--the +other improbable. I speak of bettering the wishes." + +"'Unknown but supposed'"--said Mr. Linden. "'Item--She hath many +nameless virtues'." + +"That is not my wish," said the doctor gravely looking at him, "I think +nameless virtues--deserve their obscurity!" + +"What do you call your ideal?" + +"Psyche,--" said the doctor, after a minute's sober consideration +apparently divided between Mr. Linden's face and the subject. + +"That is not so uncommon a name as Campaspe," said Mr. Linden, with a +queer little gesture of brow and lips. + +"Who is Campaspe?" said the doctor; while Faith looked, and Miss +Essie's black eyes sparkled and danced, and everybody else held his +coffee cup in abeyance. + +"Did you never hear of my Campaspe?" said Mr. Linden, glancing up from +under his brows. + +"We will exchange civilities," said the doctor. "I should be very happy +to hear of her." + +Laughing a little, his own cup sending its persuasive steam unheeded, +his own face on the sparkling order--though the eyes looked demurely +down,--Mr. Linden went on to answer. + + "'Cupid and my Campaspe played + At cards for kisses; Cupid payed; + He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, + His mother's doves, and teame of sparrows; + Loses them too; then down he throws + The coral of his lippe, the rose + Growing on's cheek, (but none knows how) + With these, the crystal of his browe, + And then the dimple of his chinne; + All these did my Campaspe winne. + At last he set her both his eyes,-- + She won, and Cupid blind did rise. + O Love! has she done this to thee? + What shall, alas! become of me!'" + + +There was a general little breeze of laughter and applause. The doctor +had glanced at Faith;--her colour was certainly raised; but then the +old Judge had just bent down to ask her "if she had ever heard of +Campaspe before?" The doctor did not hear but he guessed at the +whisper, and saw Faith's laugh and shake of the head. + +"Is that a true bill, Linden?" + +"Very true,--" said Mr. Linden, trying his coffee. "But it is not yet +known what will become of me." + +"What has become of Campaspe?" + +"She is using her eyes." + +"Are they _those_ eyes, Mr. Linden?" said Miss Essie coming nearer and +using her own. + +"What was the colour of Cupid's?" + +"Blue, certainly!" + +"Miss Derrick!"--said the doctor,--"let us have your opinion." + +Faith gave him at least a frank view of her own, all blushing and +laughing as she was, and answered readily,--"As to the colour of +Cupid's eyes?--I have never seen him, sir." + +The doctor was obliged to laugh himself, and the chorus became general, +at something in the combination of Faith and her words. But Faith's +confusion thereupon mastered her so completely, that perhaps to shield +her the doctor requested silence and attention and began to read; of a +lady who, he said he was certain, had borrowed of nobody--not even of +Cupid.-- + + "'Whoe'er she be, + That not impossible she, + That shall command my heart and me.'" + + +"I believe she _is_ impossible, to begin with," said Miss Essie. "You +will never let any woman command you, Dr. Harrison." + +"You don't know me, Miss Essie," said the doctor, with a curiously +grave face, for him. + +"He means-- + + 'Who shall command my heart--_not_ me.'" + +said Mr. Linden. + +"If she can command my heart--what of me is left to rebel?" said the +doctor. + +"Sophy," said Mrs. Somers, "how long has Julius been all heart?" + +"Ever since my aunt Ellen has been _all_ eyes and ears. Mr. Somers, +which portion of your mental nature owns the supremacy of your wife? +may I inquire, in the course of this investigation?" + +"Ha!" said Mr. Somers blandly, thus called upon--"I own her supremacy, +sir--ha--in all proper things!" + +"Ha! Very proper!" said the doctor. + +"That is all any good woman wants," said the old Judge benignly. "I +take it, that is all she wants." + +"Then you must say which are the proper things, father!" said Miss +Sophy laughing. + +"You'll have to ask every man separately, Sophy," said Mrs. +Somers,--"they all have their own ideas about proper things. Mr. Somers +thinks milk porridge is the limit." + +"Mr. Stoutenburgh," said the doctor, "haven't you owned yourself +commanded, ever since your heart gave up its lock and key?" + +"Yes indeed," said the Squire earnestly,--"I am so bound up in slavery +that I have even forgotten the wish to be free! All my wife's things +are proper!" + +"O hush!" his wife said laughing, but with a little quick bright +witness in her eyes, that was pretty to see. Dr. Harrison smiled. + +"You see, Miss Derrick!" he said with a little bow to her,--"there is +witness on all sides;--and now I will go on with my _not impossible_ +she."-- + +He got through several verses, not without several interruptions, till +he came to the exquisite words following;-- + + "'I wish her beauty, + That owes not all his duty + To gaudy tire or glistring shoetye. + + 'Something more than + Taffeta or tissue can, + Or rampant feather, or rich fan. + + 'More than the spoil + Of shop, or silk-worm's toil, + Or a bought blush, or a set smile.'" + + +While Miss Essie exclaimed, Miss Harrison stole a look at Faith; who +was looking up at the doctor, listening, with a very simple face of +amusement. Her thoughts were indeed better ballasted than to sway to +such a breeze if she had felt it. But the real extreme beauty of the +image and of the delineation was what she felt; she made no application +of them. The doctor came to this verse. + + "'A well-tamed heart, + For whose more noble smart + Love may be long choosing a dart.'-- + + +What does that mean, Linden?--isn't that an error in the description?" + +"Poetical license," said Mr. Linden smiling. "Psyche will give you +trouble enough, wings and all,--there is no fear you will find her +'tamed'." + +"How is Campaspe in that respect?" + +"She has never given me much trouble yet," said Mr. Linden. + +"What I object to is the 'long choosing'," said the doctor. "Miss de +Staff--do you think a good heart should be very hard to win?" + +"Certainly!--the harder the better," replied the lady. "That's the only +way to bring down your pride. The harder she is, the more likely you +are to think she's a diamond." + +"Mrs. Stoutenburgh!"-- + +"What has been the texture of yours all these years, doctor?" + +"He thinks that when he has dined the rest of the world should follow +suit--like the Khan of Tartary," said Mrs. Somers. + +"Miss Derrick!" said the doctor--"I hope for some gentleness from you. +Do you think such a heart as we have been talking of, should be very +difficult to move?" + +Faith's blush was exquisite. Real speech was hard to command. She knew +all eyes were waiting upon her; and she could not reason out and +comfort herself with the truth--that to them her blush might mean +several things as well as one. The answer came in that delicate voice +of hers which timidity had shaken. + +"I think--it depends on what there is to move it." + +"What do you call sufficient force?" said Mrs. Somers. + +"I?"--said Faith.-- + +"Yes, you," replied the parson's wife with a look not unkindly amused. +"What sort and degree of power should move 'such a heart'?--to quote +Julius." + +Faith's blush was painful again, and it was only the sheer necessity of +the case that enabled her to rally. But her answer was clear. +"Something better than itself, Mrs. Somers." + +"I should like to know what that is!" said Mrs. Somers. + +Mr. Linden's involuntary "And so should I"--was in a different tone, +but rather drew eyes upon himself than Faith. + +"It's of no consequence to you!" said the doctor, with a funny, mock +serious tone of admonition. + +Mr. Linden bowed, acquiescingly.--"Psychology is an interesting +study"--he added, in qualification. "But let me return your warning, +doctor--you have a formidable rival." + +"Qui donc?" + +"Cupid carried off Psyche some time ago--do you suppose you can get her +back?" And with a laughing sign of adieu, Mr. Linden went away. + +Luckily for Faith, she was not acquainted with the heathen mythology; +and was also guiltless of any thought of connexion between herself and +the doctor's ideal. So her very free, unsuspicious face and laughter +quite reassured him. + +"Mr. Linden is an odd sort of person," said Miss Essie philosophically. +"I have studied him a good deal, and I can't quite make him out. He's a +very interesting man! But I think he is deeper than he seems." + +"He's deeper than the salt mines of Salzburg then!" said the doctor. + +"Why?" said Miss Essie curiously. + +The doctor answered gravely that "there were beautiful things +there";--and went on with his reading. And Faith listened now with +unwavering attention, till he came to-- + + "'Sydnean showers + Of soft discourse, whose powers + Can crown old winter's head with flowers.'" + + +Faith's mind took a leap. And it hardly came back again. The reading +was followed by a very lively round game of talk; but it was not _such_ +talk; and Faith's thoughts wandered away and watched round that circlet +of brightness that was covered by her glove; scattered rays from which +led them variously,--home, to her Sunday school, to Pequot,--and to +heaven; coming back again and again to the diamonds and to the image +that was in the centre of them. No wonder her grave sweet face was +remarked as being even graver and sweeter than usual; and the doctor at +last devoted himself to breaking up its quiet. He took her into the +library to finish the Rhododendrons--ostensibly--but in reality to get +rid of the stiff circle in the other room. The circle followed; but no +longer stiff; under the influence of the cold weather and the big fires +and good prompting, their spirits got up at last to the pitch of acting +charades. Miss Harrison brought down her stores of old and new finery; +and with much zeal and success charades and tableaux went on for some +length of time; to the extreme amusement of Faith, who had never seen +any before. They did not divert her from watching for the sound of Mr. +Linden's return; but it came not, and Miss Essie expected and hoped +aloud in vain. The hour did come, and passed, at which such gatherings +in Pattaquasset were wont to break up. That was not very late to be +sure. The Stoutenburghs, and the De Staffs, and finally Mr. and Mrs. +Somers, went off in turn; and Faith was left alone to wait; for she had +refused all offers of being set down by her various friends. + +It happened that Mr. Linden had been, by no harmful accident but simply +by the untowardness of things, delayed beyond his time; and then having +a good distance to drive, it was some while after the last visiters had +departed when he once more reined up Jerry at the door. No servant came +to take him, and Mr. Linden applied himself to the bell-handle. But +there seemed a spell upon the house--or else the inmates were +asleep--for ring as he would, no one came. + +To fasten Jerry and let himself in were the next steps--neither of +which took long. But in the drawing-room, to which he had been ushered +in the beginning of the evening, there was now no one. The lights and +the fires and the empty chairs were there; that was all. Mr. Linden +knew the house well enough to know where next to look; he crossed the +hall to a room at the other side, which was the one most commonly used +by the family, and from which a passage led to the library. No one was +here, and the room was in a strange state of confusion. Before he had +well time to remark upon it, Faith came in from the passage bearing a +heavy marble bust in her arms. The colour sprang to her cheeks; she set +down Prince Talleyrand quickly and came towards Mr. Linden, saying, +"There's fire in the library." + +"My dear child!" he said softly, "what is the matter? What are you +about?" + +"Why there is fire in the library--it's all on fire, or soon will be," +she said hurriedly, "and we are bringing the things out. The fire can't +get in here--its a fireproof building only the inside will all burn up. +The servants are carrying water to the roof of the house, lest that +should catch. I am so glad to see you!"-- + +And Miss Sophy and the doctor came in, carrying one a picture, the +other an armful of books. Faith ran back through the passage. But +before she could set her foot inside the library, Mr. Linden's hand was +on her shoulder, and he stepped before her and took the survey of the +room in one glance. + +Its condition was sufficiently unpromising. The fire had kindled in a +heap of combustible trumpery brought there for the tableaux. It had got +far beyond management before any one discovered it; and now was making +fast work in that corner of the room and creeping with no slow progress +along the cornices of the bookshelves. Short time evidently there was +for the family to remove their treasures from its destructive sweep. +One corner of the room was in a light blaze; one or two lamps mockingly +joined their light to the glare; the smoke was curling in grey wreaths +and clouds over and around almost everything. Here an exquisite bust of +Proserpine looked forlornly through it; and there a noble painting of +Alston's shewed in richer lights than ever before, its harmony of +colouring. The servants were, as Faith had said, engaged in +endeavouring to keep the roof of the house from catching; only one old +black retainer of the family, too infirm for that service, was helping +them in the labour of rescuing books and treasures of art from the +tire, which must take its way within the library. The wall it could not +pass, that being, as Faith had also said, proof against it. + +"Stay where you are," Mr. Linden said, "and I will hand things to +you"--adding under his breath, "if you love me, Faith!" And passing +into the room he snatched Proserpine from her smoky berth and gave her +to the old servant, handing Faith a light picture. + +"Don't let your sister come in here, Harrison," he said, springing up +the steps to the upper shelves of the bookcase nearest the fire--"and +don't let everybody do everything,--keep half in the passage and half +here." + +"Yes, Sophy," said the doctor, "that is much better--don't you come in +here, nor Miss Faith. And don't work too hard," he said gently to the +latter as she came back after bestowing the picture. "I won't ask you +not to work at all, for I know it would be of no use." + +"Just work like monkeys," Mr. Linden said from his high post, which was +a rather invisible one. "Reuben!--I am glad of your help." + +"Reuben!" exclaimed Faith joyously. "How good that is. Give me those +books, Reuben."-- + +And after that the work went on steadily, with few words. It was too +smoky an atmosphere to speak much in; and the utmost exertions on the +part of every one of the workers left no strength nor time for it. +"Like monkeys" they worked--the gentlemen handing things out of the +smoke to the willing fingers and light feet that made quick disposition +of them. Quick it had need to be, for the fire was not waiting for +them. And in an incredibly short time--incredible save to those who +have seen the experiment tried,--books and engravings were emptied from +shelf after shelf--compartment after compartment--and lodged within the +house. Not a spare inch of space--not a spare second of time, it +seemed, was gone over; and the treasures of the library were in quick +process of shifting from one place to another. It was rather a weary +part Faith had to play, to stop short at the doorway and see the +struggle with smoke and fire that was going on inside; and an anxious +eye and trembling heart followed the movements of one of the workers +there whenever she returned to her post of waiting. She would rather +have been amid the smoke and the fire too, than to stand off looking +on; but she did what she was desired--and more than she was desired; +for she said not a word, like a wise child. Only did her work with no +delay and came back again. Two excellent workers were the doctor and +Mr. Linden; Reuben was a capital seconder; and no better runners than +the two ladies need have been found; while the old Judge and his old +serving man did what they could. There was every appearance that their +efforts would be successful; the fire was to be sure, greatly increased +and fast spreading, but so also the precious things that it endangered +were already in great measure secured. Probably very little would have +been lost to be regretted, if the workers had not suffered a slight +interruption. + +Mr. Linden was in the middle of the room unlocking the drawers of the +library table, which was too large to be removed. Old Nero, the black +man, had taken one of the lamps which yet remained burning, a large +heavy one, to carry away. He was just opposite the table, when a stone +bust of some weight, which had stood above the bookcases, detached by +the failure of its supports, came down along with some spars of the +burning wood and fell against a rich screen just on the other side of +Nero. The screen was thrown over on him; he struggled an instant to +right himself and it, holding his lamp off at an awful angle towards +Mr. Linden; then, nobody could tell how it was, Nero had saved himself +and struggled out from the falling screen and burning wood, and Faith +and the lamp lay under it, just at Mr. Linden's feet. Yet hardly under +it--so instantly was it thrown off. The lamp was not broken, which was +a wonder; but Faith was stunned, and the burning wood had touched her +brow and singed a lock of hair. + +In such a time of confusion all sorts of things come and go, unseen but +by the immediate actors. Dr. Harrison and Reuben were intent upon a +heavy picture; the Judge and his daughter were in the other room. And +Faith was lifted up and borne swiftly along to the drawing-room sofa, +and there was cold water already on her brow, before the others reached +her. She was only a little stunned and had opened her eyes when they +came up. They came round her, all the gang of workers, like a swarm of +bees, and with as many questions and inquiries. Faith smiled at them +all, and begged they would go back and finish what they were doing. + +"I'll stay here a little while," she said; "my fall didn't hurt me a +bit, to speak of. Do go! don't anybody wait for me." + +There seemed nothing else to be done; she would own to wanting nothing; +and her urgency at length prevailed with them, however reluctantly, to +leave her and go back to the library. But Mr. Linden stood still as the +others moved off. + +"Where are you hurt?" he said in a low voice. + +"I suppose the fall bruised me a little bit. It didn't do me any real +harm. Don't wait here for me." + +"Where?" Mr. Linden said. + +"Where it bruised me? A little on my head--and elbow--and side; +altogether nothing!" + +He sat down by her, passing his hand softly over the scorched hair; +then said, "Let me see your arm." + +"Oh no!--that's not necessary. I said I was bruised, but it isn't much." + +"Faith, you have not told me the whole." + +Her eye shrank from his instantly, and her colour flitted from red to +pale. + +"There is nothing more I need tell you. They will all be back here--or +some of them--if you stay. I'll tell you anything you please to +morrow," she added with a smile. But he only repeated, "Tell me now--I +have a right to know." + +Her lip took its childish look, but her eye met him now. "Don't look +so!"--she said, "as if there was any reason for it. I think some of the +fluid from that lamp ran down on my arm--and it smarts. Don't stay here +to look grave about me!--it isn't necessary." + +He bent his head and gave her one answer to all that--then sprang up +and went for Dr. Harrison. Faith tried to hinder him, in vain. + +There was little now to detain anybody in the library, he found, and a +good deal to drive everybody out of it. The fire had seemed to take +advantage of its unwatched opportunity and had put it pretty well out +of any one's power to rescue much more from its rapacity. Reuben and +Dr. Harrison were carrying out the drawers of the table, which Mr. +Linden had been unlocking; and the doctor dropped the one he held the +instant he caught the sense of Mr. Linden's words. He went through the +other way, summoning his sister. + +Faith was lying very quietly and smiled at them, but her colour went +and came with odd suddenness. She would not after all let the doctor +touch her; but rising from the sofa said she would go up stairs and let +Sophy see what was wanting. The three went up, and Mr. Linden was left +alone. + +He stood still for a moment where they left him, resting his face upon +his hand, but then he went back to the burning room; and stationing +himself at the doorway, bade all the rest keep back, and those that +could to bring him water. Reuben sprang to this work as he had done to +the other; some of the servants had come down by this time; and Mr. +Linden stood there, dashing the water about the doorway and into the +room, upon the floor, the great table, and such of the bookcases as he +could come near. The effect was soon evident. The blazing bits of +carved moulding as they fell to the floor, went out instead of getting +help to burn; and the heavier shelves and wainscot which being of hard +wood burned slowly, began to give out steam as well as smoke. The door +and doorway were now perfectly safe--the fire hardly could spread into +the passage, a danger which had been imminent when Mr. Linden came, but +which the family seemed to have forgotten; secure in their fireproof +walls, they forgot the un-fireproof floor, nor seemed to remember how +far along the passage the cinders might drift. When there was really +nothing more for him to do, and he had given the servants very special +instructions as to the watch they should keep, then and not till then +did Mr. Linden return to the parlour; the glow of his severe exercise +fading away. + +He found the Judge there, who engaged him in not too welcome +conversation; but there was no help for it. He must hear and answer the +old gentleman's thanks for his great services that night--praises of +his conduct and of Faith's conduct; speculations and questions +concerning the evening's disaster. After a time that seemed tedious, +though it was not really very long, Miss Harrison came down. + +"She'll be better directly," she said. "Do sit down, Mr. Linden!--I +have ordered some refreshments--you must want them, I should think; and +you'll have to wait a little while, for Faith says she will go home +with you; though I am sure she ought not, and Julius says she must not +stir." + +Mr. Linden bowed slightly--answering in the most commonplace way that +he was in no hurry and in no need of refreshments; and probably he felt +also in no need of rest--for he remained standing. + +"How is she, dear? how is she?" said the Judge. "Is she much hurt?" + +"Just _now_," said Miss Harrison, "she is in such pain that she cannot +move--but we have put something on that will take away the pain, Julius +says, in fifteen minutes; and she will be quite well this time +to-morrow, he says." + +"But is she much hurt?" Judge Harrison repeated with a very concerned +face. + +"She'll be well to-morrow, father; but she was dreadfully burned--her +arm and shoulder--I thought she would have fainted upstairs--but I +don't know whether people _can_ faint when they are in such pain. I +don't see how she can bear her dress to go home, but she says she will; +Mrs. Derrick would be frightened. Mr. Linden, they say every body does +what you tell them--I wish you'd persuade Faith to stay with me +to-night! She won't hear me." + +"How soon can I see her?"--The voice made Miss Harrison look--but her +eyes said her ears had made a mistake. + +"Why she said she would come down stairs presently--as soon as the pain +went off enough to let her do anything--and she wanted me to tell you +so; but I am sure it's very wrong. Do, Mr. Linden, take +something!"--(the servant had brought in a tray of meats and +wine)--"While you're waiting, you may as well rest yourself. How shall +we ever thank you for what you've done to-night!" + +Miss Harrison spoke under some degree of agitation, but both she and +her father failed in no kind or grateful shew of feeling towards their +guest. + +"How did it happen, Mr. Linden?" she said when she had done in this +kind all she could. + +He said he had not seen the accident--only its results. + +"I can't imagine how Faith got there," said Miss Harrison. "She saw the +screen coming over on Nero, I suppose, and thought she could save the +lamp--she made one spring from the doorway, he says, to where he stood. +And in putting up her hand to the lamp, I suppose that horrid fluid ran +down her arm and on her shoulder--when Nero put out the lamp he must +have loosened the fastening; it went all over her shoulder. But she'll +be well to-morrow night, Julius says." + +"Who's with her now, my dear?" said the Judge. + +"O Julius is with her--he said he'd stay with her till I came back--she +wanted Mr. Linden to know she would go home with him. Now, Mr. Linden, +won't you send her word back that you'll take care of Mrs. Derrick if +she'll stay?" + +"I will go up and see her, Miss Harrison." + +That was anticipated however, by the entrance of the doctor; who told +his sister Miss Derrick wanted her help, then came gravely to the +table, poured out a glass of wine and drank it. His father asked +questions, which he answered briefly. Miss Derrick felt better--she was +going to get up and come down stairs. + +"But ought she to be suffered to go out to-night, Julius?--such a +night?" + +"Certainly not!" + +The Judge argued the objections to her going. The doctor made no +answer. He walked up and down the room, and Mr. Linden stood still. Ten +or fifteen minutes passed; and then the door opened softly and Faith, +all dressed, cloaked, and furred, came in with her hood, followed by +her friend. Miss Sophy looked very ill satisfied. Faith's face was pale +enough, but as serenely happy as release from pain can leave a face +that has no care behind. A white embodiment of purity and gentleness +she looked. The doctor was at her side instantly, asking questions. Mr. +Linden did not interrupt him,--he had met her almost before the doctor, +and taken her hand with a quietness through which Faith could perceive +the stir of feelings that might have swept those of all the others out +into the snow. But he held her hand silently until other people had +done their questions--then simply asked if she was quite sure she was +fit to ride home? Then, with that passing of the barrier, look and +voice did change a little. + +"I mean to go,"--she said without looking at him,--"if you'll please to +take me." + +"She ought not,--I am sure she ought not!" exclaimed Miss Harrison in +much vexation. "She is just able to stand." + +"You know," Mr. Linden said,--not at all as if he was urging her, but +merely making a statement he thought best to make; "I could even bring +your mother here, in a very short time, if you wished it." + +"O I don't wish it. I can go home very well now." + +He gave her his arm without more words. Miss Harrison and the Judge +followed regretfully to the door; the doctor to the sleigh. + +"Are you well wrapped up?" he asked. + +"I have got all my own and all Sophy's furs," said Faith in a glad tone +of voice. + +"Take care of yourself," he said;--"and Mr. Linden, you must take care +of her--which is more to the purpose. If I had it to do, this ride +would not be taken. Linden--I'll thank you another time." + +They drove off. But as soon as they were a few steps from the house, +Mr. Linden put his arm about Faith and held her so that she could lean +against him and rest; giving her complete support, and muffling up the +furs about her lightly and effectually, till it was hardly possible for +the cold air to win through; and so drove her home. Not with many +words,--with only a whispered question now and then, whether she was +cold, or wanted any change of posture. The wind had lulled, and it was +much milder, and the snow was beginning to fall softly and fast; Faith +could feel the snow crystals on his face whenever it touched hers. Mr. +Linden would have perhaps chosen to drive gently, as being easier for +her, but the thick air made it needful. Once only he asked any other +question.-- + +"Faith--is my care of you in fault, that it lets you come home?" + +"No, I think not," she said;--"you hold me just so nicely as it is +possible to be! and this snow-storm is beautiful." Which answer, though +she might not know it, testified to her need of precisely the care he +was giving her. + +"Are you suffering much now, dear child?" + +"Not at all. I am only enjoying. I like being out in such a storm as +this.--Only I am afraid mother is troubled." + +"No--I sent Reuben down some time ago, to answer her questions if she +was up, and to have a good fire ready for you." + +"O that's good!" she said. And then rested, in how luxurious a rest! +after exertion, and after anxiety, and after pain; so cared for and +guarded. She could almost have gone to sleep to the tinkle of Jerry's +bells; only that her spirit was too wide awake for that and the +pleasure of the time too good to be lost. She had not all the pleasure +to herself--Faith could feel that, every time Mr. Linden spoke or +touched her; but what a different atmosphere his mind was in, from her +quiet rest! Pain had quitted her, but not him, though the kinds were +different. Truly he would have borne any amount of physical pain +himself, to cancel that which she had suffered,--there were some +minutes of the ride when he would have borne it, only to lose the +thought of that. But Faith knew nothing of it all, except as she could +feel once or twice a deep breath that was checked and hushed, and +turned into some sweet low-spoken word to her; and her rest was very +deep. So deep, that the stopping of the sleigh at last, was an +interruption. + +The moment Jerry's bells rang their little summons at the door, the +door itself opened, and from the glimmering light Reuben ran out to +take the reins. + +"Is Mrs. Derrick up?" Mr. Linden asked, when the first inquiry about +Faith had been answered. + +"I don't know, sir. I told her you wore afraid Miss Faith would take +cold without a fire in her room--and she let me take up wood and make +it; and then she said she wasn't sleepy, and she'd take care it didn't +go out. I haven't seen her since." + +"Thank you, Reuben--now hold Jerry for me,--I shall keep you here +to-night," Mr. Linden said as he stepped out. And laying his hand upon +the furs and wrappers, he said softly,--"Little Esquimaux--do you think +you can walk to the house?" + +"O yes!--certainly." + +A little bit of a laugh answered her--the first she had heard since +Campaspe; and then she was softly lifted up, and borne into the house +over the new-fallen snow as lightly as if she had been a snowflake +herself. The snow might lay its white feathers upon her hood, but Faith +felt as if she were in a cradle instead of a snow-storm. She was placed +in the easy chair before the sitting-room fire, and her hood and furs +quickly taken off. "How do you feel?" Mr. Linden asked her. + +She looked like one of the flakes of snow herself, for simplicity and +colour; but there was a smile in her eyes and lips that had come from a +climate where roses blow. + +"I feel nicely.--Only a little bruised and battered feeling, which +isn't unpleasant." + +"Will you have anything?--a cup of tea?--that might do you good." + +Faith looked dubious at the cup of tea; but then rose up and said it +would disturb her mother, and she would just go and sleep. + +"It won't disturb her a bit,"--Mr. Linden said, reseating her,--"sit +still--I'll send Reuben up to see." + +He left her there a very few minutes, apparently attending to more than +one thing, for he came back through the eating-room door; bringing word +to Faith that her fire and room were in nice order, and her mother fast +asleep there in the rocking-chair to keep guard; and that she should +have a cup of tea in no time. And with a smile at her, he went back +into the eating-room, and brought thence her cup and plate, and +requested to be told just how the tea should be made to please her, and +whether he might invade the dairy for cream. + +"If I could put this cloak over my shoulders, I would get some myself. +Will you put it on for me? please.--Is there fire in the kitchen? I'll +go and make the tea." + +"Is there nothing else you would like to do?" he said standing before +her,--"you shall not stir! Do you think I don't know cream when I see +it?"--and he went off again, coming back this time in company with +Reuben and the tea-kettle, but the former did not stay. Then with +appeals to her for directions the tea was made and poured out, and +toast made and laid on her plate; but she was not allowed to raise a +finger, except now to handle her cup. + +"It's very good!" said Faith,--"but--don't you remember you once told +me two cups of cocoa were better than one?" + +It is to be noted in passing, that all Faith's _nameless_ addresses +were made with a certain gentle, modulated accent, which invariably +implied in its half timid respect the "Mr. Linden" which she rarely +forgot now she was not to say. + +"Dear child! I do indeed," he said, as if the remembrance wore a bright +one. "But I remember too that my opinion was negatived. Faith, I used +to wish then that I could wait upon you--but I would rather have you +wait upon me, after all!" + +Faith utterly disallowed the tone of these last words, and urged her +request in great earnest. He laughed at her a little--but brought the +cup and drank the tea,--certainly more to please her than himself; +watching her the while, to see if the refreshment were telling upon her +cheeks. She was very little satisfied with his performance. + +"Now I'll go and wake up mother," she said at last rising. "Don't think +of this evening again but to be glad of everything that has happened. I +am." + +"I fear, I fear," he said looking at her, "that your gladness and my +sorrow meet on common ground. Child, what shall I do with you?"--but +what he did with her then was to put her in that same cradle and carry +her softly upstairs, to the very door of her room. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + +The same soft snow-storm was coming down when Faith opened her eyes +next morning; the air looked like a white sheet; but in her room a +bright fire was blazing, reddening the white walls, and by her side sat +Mrs. Derrick watching her. Very gentle and tender were the hands that +helped her dress, and then Mrs. Derrick said she would go down and see +to breakfast for a little while. + +"Wasn't it good your room was warm last night?" she said, stroking +Faith's hair. + +Faith's eyes acknowledged that. + +"And wasn't it good you were asleep!" she said laughing and kissing +Mrs. Derrick. "Mother!--I was so glad!" + +"That's the funny part of it," said Mrs. Derrick. "Reuben's just about +as queer in his way as Mr. Linden. The only thing I thought from the +way he gave the message, was that somebody cared a good deal about his +new possession--which I suppose is true," she added smiling; "and so I +just went to sleep." + +Mrs. Derrick went down; and Faith knelt on the rug before the fire and +bent her heart and head over her bible. In great happiness;--in great +endeavour that her happiness should stand well based on its true +foundations and not shift from them to any other. In sober endeavour to +lay hold, and feel that she had hold, of the happiness that cannot be +taken away; to make sure that her feet were on a rock, before she +stooped to take the sweetness of the flowers around her. And to judge +by her face, she had felt the rock and the flowers both, before she +left her room. + +The moment she opened her door and went out into the hall, Mr. Linden +opened his,--or rather it was already open, and he came out, meeting +her at the head of the stairs. And after his first greeting, he held +her still and looked at her for a moment--a little anxiously and +intently. "My poor, pale little child!" he said--"you are nothing but a +snowdrop this morning!" + +"Well that is a very good thing to be," said Faith brightly. But the +_colour_ resemblance he had destroyed. + +She was lifted and carried down just as she had been carried up last +night, and into the sitting-room again; for breakfast was prepared +there this morning, and the sofa wheeled round to the side of the fire +all ready for her. How bright the room looked!--its red curtains within +and its white curtains without, and everything so noiseless and sweet +and in order. Even the coffeepot was there by this time, and Mrs. +Derrick arranged the cups and looked at Faith on the sofa, with eyes +that lost no gladness when they went from her to the person who stood +at her side. Faith's eyes fell, and for a moment she was very sober. It +was only for a moment. + +"What a beautiful storm!" she said. "I am glad it snows. I am going to +do a great deal of work to-day." + +Mr. Linden looked at her. "Wouldn't you just as lieve be talked to +sleep?" + +She smiled. "You--couldn't--do that, Mr. Linden." + +"Mr. Linden can do more than you think--and will," he said with a +little comic raising of the eyebrows. + +For a while after breakfast Faith sat alone, except as her mother came +in and out to see that she wanted nothing,--alone in the soft snowy +stillness, till Mr. Linden came in from the postoffice and sat down by +her, laying against her cheek a soft little bunch of rosebuds and +violets. + +"Faith," he said, "you have been looking sober--what is the reason?" + +"I haven't been looking _too_ sober, have I? I didn't know I was +looking sober at all." + +She was looking quaint, and lovely; in the plain wrapper she had put on +and the soft thoughtful air and mien, in contrast with which the +diamonds jumped and flashed with every motion of her hand. A study book +lay in her lap. + +"How did all that happen last night?" said Mr. Linden abruptly. + +"Why!"--said Faith colouring and looking down at her ring--"I was +standing in the doorway and Nero was coming out with that great lamp; +and when he got opposite the screen something fell on it, I believe, +from the burning bookcases, and it was thrown over against him--I +thought the lamp and he would all go over together--and I jumped;--and +in putting up my hand to the lamp I suppose, for I don't remember, the +fluid must have run down my arm and on my shoulder--I don't know how it +got on fire, but it must have been from some of the burning wood that +fell. The next I knew, you were carrying me to the drawing-room--I have +a recollection of that." + +He listened with very grave eyes. + +"Were you trying to take the lamp from Nero?" + +"O no. I thought it was going to fall over." + +"What harm would it have done the floor?" + +The tinge of colour on Faith's cheek deepened considerably, and her +eyes lifted not themselves from the diamonds. She was not ready to +speak. + +"I did not think of the floor"-- + +"Of what then?" + +She waited again. "I was afraid some harm would be done,"-- + +"Did you prevent it?" + +"I don't know"--she said rather faintly. + +Gently her head was drawn down till it rested on his shoulder. + +"Faith," he said in his own low sweet tones, "I stretched a little +silken thread across the doorway to keep you out--did you make of that +a clue to find your way in?" + +She did not answer--nor stir. + +There were no more questions asked--no more words said; Mr. Linden was +as silent as she and almost as still. Once or twice his lips touched +her forehead, not just as they had ever done it before, Faith thought; +but some little time had passed, when he suddenly took up the book +which lay in her lap and began the lesson at which it lay open; reading +and explaining in a very gentle, steady voice, a little moved from its +usual clearness. Still his arm did not release her. Faith listened, +with a semidivided mind, for some time; there was something in this +state of things that she wished to mend. It came at last, when there +was a pause in the lesson. + +"I am glad of all that happened last night," she said, "except the pain +to you and mother. There is nothing to be sorry for. You shouldn't be +sorry." + +"Why not, little naughty child?--and why are you glad?" + +"Because--it was good for me,"--she said, not very readily nor +explicitly. + +"In what way?" + +"It was good for me,"--she repeated;--"it put me in mind of some +things." + +"Of what, dear child?" + +It was a question evidently Faith would rather not have answered. She +spoke with some difficulty. + +"That there are such things in the world as pain--and trouble. It is +best not to forget it." + +Mr. Linden understood and felt; but he only answered, "It will be the +business of my life to make you forget it. Now don't you think you +ought to put up this book, and rest or sleep?" + +"I dare say _you_ ought," said Faith,--"and I wish you would. _I_ want +to work." + +He gave her a laugh, by way of reply, and then gave her work as she +desired; watching carefully against her tiring herself in any way, and +making the lessons more of talk on his part and less of study on hers. +They were none the less good for that, nor any the less pleasant. Till +there came a knock at the front door; and then with a little sigh Faith +leaned back against the sofa, as if lessons were done. + +"There is Dr. Harrison." + +"And I shall have to be on my good behaviour," Mr. Linden said, +quitting the sofa. "But I suppose he will not stay all the rest of the +day." And as Cindy was slow in her movements, he went and opened the +door; Faith the while fitting on a glove finger. + +"First in one element, and then in another--" Mr. Linden said, as the +doctor came in from a sort of simoon of snow. + +"This one for me!" said Dr. Harrison shaking herself;--"but I should +say you must be out of your element to-day." + +"Wherefore, if you please?" said Mr. Linden, as he endeavoured to get +the doctor out of his. + +"Unless you live in a variety! I thought you were in your element last +night." And the doctor went forward into the sitting-room. The first +move was to take a seat by Faith and attend to her; and his address and +his inquiries, with the manner of them, were perfect in their kind. +Interested, concerned, tender, grateful, to the utmost limit of what +might have been in the circumstances testified by anybody, with equal +grace and skill they were limited there. Of special individual interest +he allowed no testimony to escape him--none at least that was +unequivocal. And Faith gave him answers to all he said, till he touched +her gloved finger and inquired if the fire had been at work there too. +Faith rather hastily drew it under cover and said no. + +"What is the matter with it?" + +"There is nothing bad the matter with it," said Faith, very imprudently +letting her cheeks get rosy. The doctor looked at her--told her he +could cure her finger if she would let him; and then rose up and +assumed his position before the fire, looking down at Mr. Linden. + +"There isn't much of a midge about you, after all," he said. + +"I suppose in the matter of wings we are about on a par. What is the +extent of the damage?" + +"It is nothing worth speaking of--I think now," said the doctor. "But +we are under an extent of obligation to you, my dear fellow,--which +sits on me as lightly as obligation so generously imposed should;--and +yet I should be doubly grateful if you could shew me some way in which +I could--for a moment--reverse the terms on which we stand towards each +other." + +"I don't think of any generous imposition just now," said Mr. Linden +smiling. "How are your father and sister?--I was afraid they would +suffer from the fright, if nothing else." + +"Strong nerves!" said the doctor shrugging his shoulders. "We all eat +our breakfast this morning, and wanted the chops done as much as usual. +Sophy _did_ suffer, though; but it was because Miss Faith would do +nothing but get hurt in the house and wouldn't stay to be made well." + +"I am sure I did something more than _that_," said Faith, to whom the +doctor had looked. + +"You don't deserve any thanks!" he said sitting down again beside +her;--"but there is somebody else that does, and I wish you would give +me a hint how to pay them. That young fellow who says he is no friend +of yours--he helped us bravely last night. What can I do to please him?" + +"Mr. Linden can tell best," said Faith looking to him. The doctor +turned in the same direction. + +"Thank you!" Mr. Linden said, and the words were warmly spoken, yet not +immediately followed up. "Thank you very much, doctor!" he repeated +thoughtfully--"I am not sure that Reuben wants anything just now,--next +summer, perhaps, he may want books." + +"I see _you_ are his friend?" + +"Yes--if you give the word its full length and breadth." + +"What is that?" said Dr. Harrison. "Don't go off to 'Nought and All.'" + +"I suppose in this case I may say, a mutual bond of trust, affection, +and active good wishes." + +"There's something in that fellow, I judge?" + +"You judge right." + +"A fisherman's son, I think you said. Well--I share the 'active good +wishes,' at least, if I can't assume the 'affection'--so think about my +question, Linden, and I'll promise to back your thoughts. What do you +do with yourself such a day? I was overcome with ennui--till I got out +into the elements." + +"Ennui is not one of my friends," said Mr. Linden smiling--"not even an +acquaintance. In fact I never even set a chair for him, as the woman in +Elia set a chair for the poor relation, saying, 'perhaps he will step +in to-day.' I have been busy, doctor--what shall I do to amuse you? +will you have a foreign newspaper?" + +The doctor looked dubious; then took the newspaper and turned it over, +but not as if he had got rid of his ennui. + +"This smoke in the house will drive us out of Pattaquasset a little +sooner than we expected." + +"Not this winter?" + +"Yes. _That's_ nothing new--but we shall go a few days earlier than we +meant. I wish you were going too." + +"When to return?" said Mr. Linden. "I mean you--not myself." + +"I?--I am a wandering comet," said the doctor. "I have astonished +Pattaquasset so long, it is time for me to flare up in some other +place. I don't know, Linden. Somebody must be here occasionally, to +overlook the refitting of the inside of that library--perhaps that +agreeable duty will fall on me. But Linden,"--said the doctor dropping +the newspaper and turning half round on his chair, speaking gracefully +and comically,--"_you_ astonish Pattaquasset as much as I do; and to +tell you the truth you astonish me sometimes a little. This is no place +for you. Wouldn't you prefer a tutorship at Quilipeak, or a professor's +chair in one of the city colleges? You may step into either berth +presently, and at your pleasure,--I know. I do not speak without +knowledge." + +There was a stir of feeling in Mr. Linden's face--there was even an +unwonted tinge of colour, but the firm-set lips gave no indication as +to whence it came; and he presently looked up, answering the doctor in +tones as graceful and more simple than his own. + +"Thank you, doctor, once more! But I have full employment, and am--or +am not--ambitious,--whichever way you choose to render it. Not to speak +of the pleasure of astonishing Pattaquasset," he added, with a smile +breaking out,--"I could not hope to do that for Quilipeak." + +"Please know," said the doctor, both frankly and with much respect in +his manner, "that I have been so presumptuous as to concern my mind +about this for some time--for which you will punish me as you think I +deserve. How to be so much further presumptuous as to speak to you +about it, was my trouble;--and I ventured at last," he said smiling, +"upon my own certain possession of certain points of that 'friend' +character which you were giving just now to Reuben Taylor--or to +yourself, in his regard." + +"I am sure you have them!--But about Reuben,--though I know reward is +the last thing he thought of or would wish,--yet I, his friend, choose +to answer for him, that if you choose to give him any of the books that +he will need in college, they will be well bestowed." + +"In college!" said the doctor. "Diable! Where is he going?" + +"Probably to Quilipeak." + +"You said, to college, man. I mean, what is college the road to, in the +youngster's mind?" + +"I am not sure that I have a right to tell you," said Mr. Linden,--"it +is in his mind a road to greater usefulness--so much I may say." + +"He'll never be more useful than he was last night. However, I'm +willing to help him try.--What is Mignonette going to do with herself +this afternoon?"--said the doctor throwing aside his newspaper and +standing before her. + +"I don't know," said Faith. "Sit here and work, I suppose." + +"I'll tell you what she ought to do," the doctor went on impressively. +"She ought to do what the flowers do when the sun goes down,--shut up +her sweetness to herself, see and be seen by nobody, and cease to be +conscious of her own existence." + +Faith laughed, in a way that gave doubtful promise of following the +directions. The doctor stood looking down at her, took her hand and +gallantly kissed it, and finally took himself off. + +"There is a good little trial of my patience!" Mr. Linden said. "I +don't know but it is well he is going away, for I might forget myself +some time, and bid him hands off." + +At which Faith looked thoughtful. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said, gently raising her face, "would you like to +live at Quilipeak?" + +The answer to that was a great rush of colour, and a casting down of +eyes and face too as soon as it was permitted. + +"Well?" he said smiling--though she felt some other thread in the +voice. "What did you think of the words that passed between the doctor +and me? Would you like to have me agree to his proposal?" + +"You would do what is best," she said with a good deal of effort. "I +couldn't wish anything else."-- + +He answered her mutely at first, with a deep mingling of gravity and +affection, as if she were very, very precious. + +"My dear little child!" he said, "if anything on earth could make me do +it, it would be you!--and yet I cannot." + +She looked up inquiringly; but except by that look, she asked nothing. + +"You strengthen my hands more than you weaken them," he said. "I am so +sure that you would feel with me!--I know it so well! I have a long +story to tell you, dear Faith,--some time, not now," he added, with a +sort of shadow coming over his face. "Will you let me choose my own +time? I know it is asking a good deal." + +"It would be asking a great deal more of me to choose any other," Faith +said with a sunny smile. "I like that time best." + +He passed his hand softly once or twice across her forehead, giving her +a bright, grateful look, though a little bit of a sigh came with it +too,--then drew her arm within his and led her slowly up and down the +room. + +But after dinner, and after one or two more lessons--under careful +guardianship, Faith was persuaded to lay herself on the sofa and rest, +and listen,--first to various bits of reading, then to talk about some +of her photographic pictures; the talk diverging right and left, into +all sorts of paths, fictional, historic, sacred and profane. Then the +light faded--the out-of-door light, still amid falling snow; and the +firelight shone brighter and brighter; and Mrs. Derrick stopped +listening, and went to the dining-room sofa for a nap. Then Mr. Linden, +who had been sitting at Faith's side, changed his place so as to face +her. + +"How do you feel to-night?" he asked. + +"Perfectly well--and as nicely as possible. Just enough remains of last +night to make it pleasant to lie still." + +"You are a real little sunbeam! Do you know I want you to go off with +me on a shining expedition?" + +"On _what_ sort of expedition?" said Faith laughing. + +"A shining one--I want to carry your bright face into all the darkest +places I can find." + +There was an alternation of amusement and a grave expression in her +face for a minute, one and the other flitting by turns; but then she +said quietly, "When, Mr. Linden?" + +"What shall I do with you?" he said,--"shall I call you Miss Derrick?" + +"No indeed!" she said colouring. "I don't often forget myself." + +"No, I shall not do that, for it would punish myself too much, but I +shall do something else--which will not punish me at all, and may +perhaps make you remember. What do you suppose it will be?" + +"I don't know"--she said flushing all over. + +"Nothing worse than this"--he said, bending his face to hers. "Faith! I +did not mean to frighten you so! I'll tell you where I want to take +you.--You know Monday is the first of January, and I want to go with +you to those houses in the neighbourhood where the wheels of the new +year drag a little, and try to give them a pleasant start. Would you +like it?" + +"O!"--she said, springing forward with a delighted exclamation.--"Tell +me, just what you mean. To which houses?" + +"I mean that if you are well, we will have a long, long sleigh ride, +and leave as many little pieces of comfort and pleasure by the way as +we can. The houses, dear, will be more than you think--I must make out +a list." + +Faith clapped her hands. + +"O delicious! That is the best thing we could possibly do with Monday! +and there are two days yet this week--I shall have plenty of chance, +mother and I, to make everything. O what sorts of things shall we take? +and what are some of the houses? There is Mrs. Dow, where we went that +night,"--she said, her voice falling,--"and Sally Lowndes--what places +are you thinking off?" + +"I think we might give Reuben at least a visit, if nothing else,--and +there are a good many such houses down about those points, and far on +along the shore. I was thinking most of them--though there are some +nearer by. But my Mignonette must not tire herself,--I did not mean to +bring anything but pleasure upon her hands." + +"You can't! in this way," said Faith in delighted eagerness. "Who keeps +house in Reuben's home? he has no mother." + +"No--I suppose I may say that he keeps house,--for his father is away a +great deal, and Reuben always seems to be doing what there is to do. As +to things--you will want some for well people, and some for sick,--at +some houses the mere necessary bread and meat, and at others any of +those little extras which people who spend all their money for bread +and meat can never get. But little child," Mr. Linden said smiling, "if +I let you prepare, you must let me send home." + +"What?" said she. "I thought you said we would both take them together?" + +He laughed--taking her hand and holding it in both his. + +"And so we will!--I meant, send home here, to prepare." + +"Oh!--Well," said Faith, "but we have a great deal now, you know; and I +can send Mr. Skip to get more. But one thing I know--we will take +Reuben a roast turkey!" + +I wonder if she could tell, in the firelight, with what eyes he watched +her and listened to her! Probably not, for his back was towards the +fire, and the changing light and shade on his face was a little +concealed. But the light had the mastery. + +"Faith," he said, "I shall send you home some sugar-plums--upon express +condition that you are not to eat them up; being quite sweet enough +already." + +His face was so hid that probably Faith thought her own was hid too, +and did not know how clearly its moved timid changes were seen. She +leaned forward, and touching one hand lightly to his shoulder, said, + +"What do you mean to make me,--Endecott?" + +It was a thing to hear, the soft fall and hesitancy of Faith's voice at +the last word. Yet they hardly told of the struggle it had cost. How +the word thrilled him she did not know,--the persons living from whom +he ever had that name were now so few, that there was a strange +mingling with the exquisite pleasure of hearing it from her lips,--a +mingling of past grief and of present healing. He changed his place +instantly; and taking possession of her, gave her the most gentle, +tender, and silent thanks. Perhaps too much touched to speak--perhaps +feeling sure that if he spoke at all it would be in just such words as +she had so gently reproved. The answer at last was only a bright, "I +told you I could not promise--and I will not now!" + +She pushed her head round a little so that she could give a quick +glance into his face, in which lay her answer. Her words, when she +spoke, made something of a transition, which however was proved by the +voice to be a transition in words only. + +"Wouldn't a bag of potatoes be a good thing for us to take?" + +"Certainly!--and we must take some books, and some orders for wood. And +you must have a basket of trifles to delight all the children we meet." + +"That's easy! And books, will you take? that's delicious! that's better +than anything, for those who can enjoy them. Do you think any of them +want bibles?" + +"We will take some, at a venture--I never like to go anywhere without +that supply. And then we shall both have to use our wits to find out +just what is wanted in a particular place,--the people that tell you +most have often the least to tell. And above all, Faith, we shall want +plenty of sympathy and kind words and patience,--they are more called +for than anything else. Do you think you can conjure up a sufficient +supply?" + +"It is something I know so little about!" said Faith. "I have never had +very much chance. When I went to see Mrs. Custers I didn't in the least +know how to speak to her. But these people where we are going all know +_you_, I suppose?"--she said with another and not a little wistful look +up into his face. + +"Most of them--more or less. What of it?" + +"That makes it easy," she said quietly. "But I suppose it would be just +the same if you didn't know them! About the sick people,--Endecott--if +you can tell us _how_ they are sick, mother and I between us can make +out what things to prepare for them." + +"Did you think I was in earnest, dear Faith, when I asked about your +sympathy?" Mr. Linden said, drawing her closer. + +"No.--I think I have the sympathy, but I don't so well know how to shew +it. Then loaves of bread, I suppose, wouldn't come amiss?--And above +all, meat. Where else do you think a roast turkey ought to go?" + +"To one particular far-off house on the shore that is brim full of +little children--and nothing else!" + +"We'll take them a big one," said Faith smiling,--"and I suppose it is +no matter how many cakes! You'll have to make a very particular list, +with some notion of what would be best at each place; because in some +houses they wouldn't bear what in others they would be very glad of. +Wouldn't that be good? So that we might be sure to have the right thing +everywhere--_one_ right thing, at any rate. The other things might take +their chance." + +"Yes, I will do that. But you know the first thing is, that you should +get well, and the next that you should _not_ get tired,--and these must +be secured, if nobody ever has anything." + +Faith's laugh was joyous. + +"To-morrow I mean to make cakes and pies," she said,--"and the next day +I will bake bread and roast turkeys and boil beef! And you have no idea +what a quantity of each will be wanted! I think I never saw anybody so +good at talking people to sleep!--that didn't want to go. Now what is +that?" For the knocker of the front door sounded loudly again. + +"It is something to send people away--that don't want to go!" Mr. +Linden said, as he put her back in her old position on the cushions, +and moved his chair to a respectful distance therefrom. But nothing +worse came in this time than a note, well enveloped and sealed, which +was for Mr. Linden. It ran after this fashion.-- + + "_In the snow--yet and the chair + not only set for Ennui, but + ennui in the chair!_ + +"_This 28th Dec_. 18 + +"DEAR LINDEN, + +You see my condition. I am desperate for want of something to do--_so_ +I send you this. Enclosed you will please find--if you haven't dropped +it on the floor!--$25, for the bibliothecal and collegiate expenses of +'Miss Derrick's friend.' If you should hereafter know him to be in +further want of the same kind of material aid and comfort--please +convey intelligence of the same to myself or father. He---i. e-. said +'friend'--saved to _us_ last night far more than the value of this. + +I am sorry I have no more to say! for your image--what else could it +be?--has for the moment frightened Ennui into the shadow--but he will +come back again as soon as I have sealed this. By which you will know +when you read the (then) present condition of + +Your friend most truly + +JULIUS HARRISON. + + +In Pattaquasset, is it?" + + +Mr. Linden read the note by firelight and standing--then came and sat +down by Faith and put it in her hands. By firelight Faith read it +hastily, and looked up with eyes of great delight. "Oh!" she +said,--"isn't that good!" Then she looked down at the note soberly +again. + +"Well, little child? what?" he said smiling. "Yes, I am very glad. What +are you doubting about?" + +"I am not doubting about anything," she said giving him the +note,--"only thinking of this strange man." + +"Is he very strange?" Mr. Linden said. But he did not pursue the +subject, going back instead to the one they had been upon, to give her +the information she had asked for about the sick people they were +likely to meet in their rounds; passing gradually from that to other +matters, thence into silence. And Faith followed him, step by +step,--only when he was quite silent, she was--asleep! + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + +The next two days were busy ones, all round; for though Faith was +carefully watched, by both her guardians, yet she was really well and +strong enough again to be allowed to do a good deal; especially with +those intervals of rest and study which Mr. Linden managed for her. His +work, between these intervals, took him often out of doors, and various +were the tokens of that work which came home--greatly to Faith's +interest and amusement. They were curiously indicative, too, both of +the varied wants of the poor people in the neighbourhood, and of his +knowledge on the subject. From a little pair of shoes which was to +accompany one roast turkey, to the particular sort of new fishing net +which was to go with the other, it really seemed as if every sort of +thing was wanted somewhere,--simple things, and easy to get, and not +costing much,--but priceless to people who had no money at all. Faith +was appointed receiver general, and her hands were full of amusement as +well as business. And those two things were the most of all that Mr. +Linden suffered to come upon them,--whatever his own means might be, it +was no part of his plan to trench upon Mrs. Derrick's; though she on +her part entered heart and hands into the work, with almost as much +delight as Faith herself, and would have given the two carte-blanche to +take anything she had in the house. Faith didn't ask _him_ what she +should take there, nor let him know much about it till Monday. By this +time, what with direct and indirect modes of getting at the knowledge, +Faith had become tolerably well acquainted with the class or classes of +wants that were to be ministered to. Many were the ovenfuls that were +baked that Friday and Saturday! great service did the great pot that +was used for boiling great joints! nice and comforting were the broths +and more delicate things provided, with infinite care, for some four or +five sick or infirm people. But Faith's delight was the things Mr. +Linden sent home; every fresh arrival of which sent her to the kitchen +with a new accession of zeal, sympathy, and exultation,--sympathy with +him and the poor people; exultation in the work--most of all in him! +Great was the marvelling of Cindy and Mr. Skip at these days' +proceedings. + +So passed Friday and Saturday; and Sunday brought a lull. Faith thought +so, and felt so. Her roast turkeys and chickens were reposing in spicy +readiness; her boiled meats and bakeries were all accomplished and in +waiting; and dismissing all but a little joyful background thought of +them, Faith gave her whole heart and mind to the full Sabbath rest, to +the full Sabbath rising; and looked, in her deep happiness, as if she +were--what she was--enjoying the one and striving after the other. But +the ways by which we are to find the good we must seek, are by no means +always those of our own choosing. + +It was a clear, cold, still, winter's day. Cold enough by the +thermometer; but so still that the walking to church was pleasant. They +had come home from the afternoon service--Faith had not taken off her +things--when she was called into the kitchen to receive a message. The +next minute she was in the sitting-room and stood by the side of Mr. +Linden's chair. + +"Mrs. Custers is dying--and has sent for me." + +"For you, dear child?--Well--Are you able to go?" + +"Oh yes." + +He looked at her in silence, as if he were making up his own mind on +the subject, then rose up and gently seating her on the sofa, told her +to rest there till he was ready; but before he came back again Mrs. +Derrick came to Faith's side with a smoking cup of chicken broth and a +biscuit. + +"You've got to eat it, pretty child," she said fondly,--"we're both +agreed upon that point." + +Which point mandate Faith did not try to dispute. + +The town clock had struck four, all counted, when Jerry dashed off from +the door with the little sleigh behind him. No other sleigh-bells were +abroad, and his rang out noisily and alone over the great waste of +stillness as soon as they were quit of the village. The air happily was +very still and the cold had not increased; but low, low the sun was, +and sent his slant beams coolly over the snow-white fields, glinting +from fences and rocks and bare thickets with a gleam that threatened he +would not look at them long. The hour was one of extreme beauty,--fair +and still, with a steady strength in its stillness that made the beauty +somewhat imposing. There was none of the yielding character of summer +there; but a power that was doing its work and would do it straight +through. "He giveth forth his ice like morsels; who can stand before +his cold?"--thought Faith. + +The sleighing was excellent; the roads in perfect condition. + +"How long is it since you were here?" Mr. Linden said as the house came +in sight, shewn only by its twinkling panes of glass. + +"Not since before I went to Pequot--not since a day or two after that +ride we took with Dr. Harrison, when you rode 'Stranger' the first +time." + +"How was she then?" + +"Not much different from what she had been before--she didn't say +much--she seemed to like to listen to me, or to see me, or both. That +was all I could be sure of." + +"Try not to let her spend her strength in examining the past state of +her mind. Bid her lay hold of the promise now. A present hold will +answer all her questions--and is all the oldest Christian can rest in." + +"I wish you could speak to her instead of me," said Faith. "Perhaps she +will let you." + +"It is not you nor I, my child.--Fix your heart upon Christ, and let +him speak,--fix your eyes upon him, and let his light shine." + +"I know it. O I do!--" she said, looking up at him with an humble, +moved face. + +He lifted her out of the sleigh and led her up to the house, where they +were presently admitted; into an outer room first, where Faith could +lay off her furs. + +"She's some brighter to-night," the woman in attendance said, in answer +to Mr. Linden's questions. "I guess she'll be real glad to see +you"--this was addressed to Faith. + +Faith left Mr. Linden there, and went into the sick chamber alone; +where she was always received as if she had brought an olive branch, or +a palm branch, or both of them, in her hand. The spirit of both, no +doubt, was in her; the gentle face looked the promise of both peace and +victory, as only humility can look it. + +Mrs. Custers on her part looked--as the other had said--glad; if so +bright a word could be applied to a face that had lost all its own +light, and where no reflected light as yet shone. Yet she was quieter +than when Faith had first seen her, whether from mental relief or +physical prostration, and was most eager for all Faith's +words,--listening for the most part in silence, but with eyes that +never said "enough." As some poor exhausted traveller takes the water +which he has at last reached in the desert, nor knows yet whether its +bright drops can avail to save his life, but lays him down by the +fountain--there to live or die. And Faith, feeling that her hand was +ministering those drops of life, lost every other thought,--except to +wish for a hand that could do it better. Once she ventured a +proposition. + +"I have a friend here, Mrs. Custers, who can tell you about all these +things much better than I can. Will you let him? May I ask him to come +in and see you?" + +"Better?" she said slowly--"I don't believe it. Who is he? your +brother?" + +"No--I haven't any brother. But that don't matter. He's somebody that +is a great deal better than I am. May I let him come in? He's here," +said Faith very quietly, along with her flushing cheek. + +There was a poor little faint smile for a moment upon the sick woman's +lips while Faith spoke, but it passed and she answered in the same +tone--"I'll see him--to please you--before you go. I just want the +words now--and I like you best." + +Faith troubled her no more with unnecessary suggestions, and gave her +"the words." Gave them with the fragrance of her own love about them, +which certainly is the surest human vehicle for the love above human +that is in them. As on that first occasion, Faith placed herself on the +side of the bed; and holding one of Mrs. Custers' hands in her own, +bending her soft quiet face towards the listening eyes and ears, she +gave her one by one, like crumbs of life-giving food, the words of +promise, of encouragement, of invitation, of example. No answer cheered +or helped her; no token of pleasure or even of assent met her; only +those fixed listening eyes bade her go on, and told that whether for +life and refreshment or no, the words were eagerly taken in, each after +the other, as she said them. There was something in the strong sympathy +of the speaker--in her own feeling and joy of the truths she told--that +might give them double power and life to the ears of another. Faith +reported the words of her Master with such triumphant prizing of them +and such leaning on their strength; she gave his invitations in such +tones of affection; she told over the instances of others' prevailing +faith with such an evident, clear, satisfying share in the same;--the +living words this time lost nothing of their power by a dead utterance. +Of her own words Faith ventured few; now and then the simplest addition +to some thing she had repeated, to make it more plain, or to carry it +further home; such words as she could not keep back; such words, very +much, as she would have spoken to Johnny Fax; not very unlike what +Johnny Fax might have spoken to her. But there was not a little +physical exhaustion about all this after a while, and Faith found she +must have some help to her memory. She went into the other room. + +"I want a bible," she said looking round for it--"Is there one here?" + +Yes there was one, but it was Mr. Linden's. That was quickly given her. + +"I forgot it at the moment you went in," he said, "and then I did not +like to disturb you. My dear Faith!--" and he held her hand and looked +at her a little wistfully. She brought her other hand upon his, and +looked down and looked up wistfully too; like one with a heart full. + +"Can I help you? can I take your place?" + +"She won't let you," said Faith shaking her head. "She says she will +see you by and by--but she must take her own time for it." + +And Faith went back to her ministrations. Of all bibles, she would have +had that one in her hand then! And yet its companionship bowed down her +heart with a sense of weakness;--but that was the very position for the +next move; a spring beyond weakness to the only real and sufficient +ground of strength. + +The afternoon merged into the evening. A tallow candle had been brought +by the attendant into the room in which Mr. Linden was waiting; and its +dim smoky light would have made a dismal place of it if he had had no +other to go by. He could sometimes hear the low tones of a word or two +in the other room; more often the tones were so low that they failed to +reach him. When this state of things had lasted a long time--as it +seemed--there came an interruption in the form of quick steps on the +snow; then the door was pushed open, and Dr. Harrison appeared. + +"You here!" was his astonished salutation. "What upon earth has brought +you?" + +"I came to bring some one else." + +"_She_ isn't here?" said the doctor. "You don't mean that?" + +His emphatic pronouns were a little smile-provoking, in spite of the +grave thoughts upon which they intruded--or rather perhaps because of +them; but if Mr. Linden's face felt that temptation, it was only for a +moment,--he answered quietly, + +"If you mean Miss Faith, she has been here a long time." + +The doctor knew that! if she came when she was called. _He_ had stopped +to eat his dinner. + +"I mean her, of course," he said with his tone a little subdued. "I +shouldn't think her mother would have let her come--such a night!--" +Which meant very plainly that Dr. Harrison would not have let her.--"Is +she in there with the woman now?" + +"Yes." + +The doctor went with grave aspect to the door of communication between +the two rooms and softly opened it and went in; so softly, that Faith, +engaged in her reading, did not hear anything; the sick woman's eyes +were the first that perceived him. Hers rested on him a moment--then +came back to Faith, and then again met the doctor's; but not just as +they had been wont. And her first words bore out his impression. + +"You may come in," she said, slowly and distinctly,--"I'm not afraid of +you to-night." + +He came forward, looked at her, touched her hand, kindly; and then +without a word turned to Faith. + +Faith did not dare ask a question, but her eyes put it silently. + +"She don't want anything," said he meaningly. "Not from me. She may +have anything she fancies to have." + +Faith's eyes went back to the other face. That the doctor's words had +been understood there too, was evident from the little flitting colour, +and the sick woman lay still with closed eyes, clasping Faith's hand as +if she were holding herself back from drifting out on "that great and +unknown sea." But she roused herself and spoke hurriedly. "Won't +somebody pray for me?" + +Faith bent over until her lips almost touched the sufferer's cheek and +her warm breath floated in the words, "I'll bring somebody--" then +loosing her hold, she sprang from the bed and out into the other room. +But when she had clasped Mr. Linden's hand, Faith bent down her head +upon it, unable to speak. The strength it could, his hand gave her--and +his voice. + +"What, my dear child?" + +Then Faith looked up. "She wants you to pray for her." And without +waiting for the unnecessary answer, she led Mr. Linden to the door of +the room, there dropped his hand and went in before him. Dr. Harrison +was standing by the bedpost, and looked wordlessly upon the two as they +entered. + +Mrs. Custers scanned the stranger's face as he came to wards her, with +an anxious, eager look, as if she wanted to know whether he could do +anything for her; the look changing to one of satisfaction. But to his +low-spoken question as he took her hand, she gave an answer that was +almost startling in its slow earnestness. + +"Pray that I may believe--and that _he_ may--and that God would bless +her forever!" + +How was such a request to be met! then and there!--for a moment Mr. +Linden's eyes fell. But then he knelt by her side, and met it most +literally,--in tones very low and clear and distinct, in words that +might have been angels' plumage for their soft bearing upward of the +sufferer's thoughts. Faith could feel a slight trembling once or twice +of the hand that held hers, but the bitterness of its grasp had +relaxed. Dr. Harrison was behind her; whether he stood or knelt she did +not know; but _he_ knew that when the other two rose to their feet, one +of them was exceedingly pale; and his move, made on the instant, was to +get her a glass of water. Faith only tasted it and gave it him back, +and mounted to her former place on the bed. And for a little all was +still, until Mr. Linden spoke again in the same clear, guiding tones. + + "'My God, within thy hand + My helpless soul I trust! + Thy love shall ever stand-- + Thy promise must!--'" + + +Then Mrs. Custers opened her eyes; and her first look was at Dr. +Harrison. But whether the relaxed mental tension let the bodily +weakness appear, or whether the tide was at that point where it ebbs +most rapidly, her words were spoken with some trouble--yet spoken as if +both to make amends and give information. + +"You meant to be very kind--" she said--"and you have--But _now_ I want +to believe--even if it isn't any use." + +Her eyes passed from him--rested for a minute on Mr. Linden--then came +to Faith, and never wavered again. "Read"--was all she said. + +With unnerved lip and quivering breath Faith began again her sweet +utterance of some of those sweetest things. For a moment she longed to +ask the other two listeners to go away and leave her alone; but +reasons, different and strong, kept her mouth from speaking the wish; +and then, once dismissed, it was forgotten. Her voice steadied and grew +clear presently; its low, distinct words were not interrupted by so +much as a breath in any part of the room. They steadied her; Faith +rested on them and clung to them as she went along, with a sense of +failing energy which needed a stay somewhere. But her words did not +shew it, except perhaps that they came more slowly and deliberately. +Mr. Linden had drawn back a little out of sight. Dr. Harrison kept his +stand by the bedpost, leaning against it; and whatever that reading was +to him, he was as motionless as that whereon he leaned. + +Till some little length of time had passed in this way, and then he +came to Faith's side and laid his hand on her open book. + +"She does not hear you," he said softly. + +Faith looked at him startled, and then bent forward over the woman +whose face was turned a little from her. + +"She is sleeping"--she said looking up again. + +"She will not hear you any more," said the doctor. + +"She breathes, regularly,--" + +"Yes--so she will for perhaps some hours. But she will not waken +again,--probably." + +"Are you sure?" Faith said with another look at the calm face before +her. + +"Very sure!"-- + +Was it true? Faith looked still at the unconscious form,--then her +bible fell from her hands and her head wearily sunk into them. The +strain was over--broken short. She had done all she could,--and the +everlasting answer was sealed up from her. Those heavy eyelids would +not unclose again to give it; those parted lips through which the slow +breath went and came, would never tell her. It seemed to Faith that her +heart lay on the very ground with the burden of all that weight resting +upon it. + +She was not suffered to sit so long. + +"May I take you away?"--Mr. Linden said,--"you must not stay any +longer." + +"Do you think it is no use?" said Faith looking up at him wearily. + +"It is of no use," said Dr. Harrison. He had come near, and took her +hand, looking at her with a moved face in which there was something +very like tender reproach. But he only brought her hand gravely to his +lips again and turned away. Mr. Linden's words were very low-spoken. "I +think the doctor is right.--But let me take you home, and then I will +come back and stay till morning if you like--or till there comes a +change. _You_ must not stay." + +"I don't like to go,"--said Faith without moving. "She may want me +again." + +"There may be no change all night," said the doctor;--"and when it +comes it will not probably be a conscious change. If she awakes at all, +it will be to die. You could do nothing more." + +Faith saw that Mr. Linden thought so, and she gave it up; with a +lingering unwillingness got off the bed and wrapped her furs round her. +Mr. Linden put her into the sleigh, keeping Jerry back to let the +doctor precede them; and when he was fairly in front, Faith was doubly +wrapped up--as she had been the night of the fire, and could take the +refreshment of the cool air, and rest. Very wearily, for a while, mind +and body both dropped. Faith was as still as if she had been asleep; +but her eyes were gazing out upon the snow, following the distant speck +of the doctor's sleigh, or looking up to the eternal changeless lights +that keep watch over this little world and mock its changes. Yet not +so! but that bear their quiet witness that there is something which is +not "passing away;"--yea, that there is something which "endureth +forever." + +"He calleth them all by their names; for that he is strong in power, +not one faileth." That was in Faith's mind along with other words--"The +Lord knoweth them that are his." Her mind was in a passive state; +things floated in and floated out. It was some time before Mr. Linden +said anything--he let her be as silent and still as she would; but at +last he bent over her and spoke. + +"My Mignonette"--and the thought was not sweeter than the words--"are +you asleep?" + +"No--" she said in one of those etherial answering tones which +curiously say a great many things. + +"Are you resting?" + +"Yes. I am rested." + +"You must try not to bear the burden of your work after it is done. Now +lay it off--and leave your poor friend in the hands where I trust she +has left herself. Her senses are not closed to his voice." + +"I do"--she said with a grateful look. "I know it is not my work--nor +anybody's." + +He drew the furs up about her silently, arranging and adjusting them so +as to keep off the wind which had risen a little. + +"We are not very far from home now,--we have come fast." + +And as Jerry did not relax his pace, the little distance was soon +travelled over. How fair the lights in their own windows looked +then!--with their speech of blessing and comfort. + +They all came together round the fire first, and then round the +tea-table; Faith being specially watched over and waited on by both the +others. Mrs. Derrick's half developed fear at their long stay, had +given place to a sort of moved, untalkative mood when she heard the +explanation, but a mood which relieved itself by trying every possible +and impossible thing for Faith's refreshment. Every possible thing +except refreshing talk--and that Mr. Linden gave her. Talk which +without jarring in the least upon the evening's work, yet led her +thoughts a little off from the painful part of it. Talk of the +Christian's work--of the Christian's privilege,--of "Heaven and the way +thither,"--of the gilding of the cross, of the glory of the crown. +Faith heard and joined in it, but there was a point of pressure yet at +her heart; and when they left the table and went into the other room, a +slight thing gave indication where it lay. Faith took a little bench by +Mrs. Derrick's side, drew her mother's arms round her close, and laid +her head down on her lap. + +How softly, how tenderly, did Mrs. Derrick answer the caress, as if she +read it perfectly!--touching Faith's hands and brow and cheeks with +fingers that were even trembling. And at last--whether her child's mute +pleading was too much for her,--whether the pain which had never left +her heart since the day of Faith's overturn had by degrees done its +work,--she bent down her lips to Faith's cheek and whispered--"Yes, +pretty child--I mean to try." + +And so the door opened, and Cindy and Mr. Skip came in for prayers. +Faith hid her face, but otherwise did not stir. + +How sweet the service was to them all that night!--yes, to them all; +there was not one who could help feeling its influence. And yet it was +very simple, and not very long,--Mr. Linden read first a few Bible +passages, and then Wesley's hymn of the New Year,--with its bugle note +of action,--and then to prayer, for which, by that time, every heart +was ready. + + "Come let us anew our journey pursue, + Roll round with the year, + And never stand still till the Master appear. + His adorable will let us gladly fulfil, + And our talents improve, + By the patience of hope and the labours of love. + + "Our life is a dream; our time, as a stream, + Glides swiftly away, + And the fugitive moment refuses to stay. + The arrow is flown--the moment is gone; + The millennial year + Rushes on to our view, and eternity's here. + + "O that each, in the day of his coming, may say, + I have fought my way through; + I have finished the work thou didst give me to do. + O that each from his Lord may receive the glad word, + Well and faithfully done! + Enter into my joy, and sit down on my throne." + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + +The first morning of the new year turned out as bright as could be +desired for the great sleigh-riding expedition; the very day for it. +And in the very mood for it were the people who were to go. Not but +somewhat of last night's gravity hung about Faith's bright face; the +one did no hurt to the other; for the best brightness is always sure to +be grave, and the best gravity is almost sure to be bright, on some +side. However there was nothing _contemplative_ about the character of +things this morning; there was too much action afoot. Such an army of +meats and drinks, with all sorts of odd ends and varieties, from the +shoes to the fishing-net, and such an array of apples and +sugarplums!--to marshal and order them all in proper companies and +ranks, wanted a general! But Faith was by no means a bad general, and +up to the act of stowing the sleigh, at which point the things were +made over to Mr. Linden and Mr. Skip, her part was well done. And Mr. +Linden found in the course of _his_ part of the business that Mrs. +Derrick and Faith had followed a lead of their own. + +There had been a pretty packing and tying up and labelling at the +table, before the sleigh-packing began,--Faith's busy little fingers +went in and out with great dexterity; and either Mr. Linden thought it +was pleasant to her--or knew it was pleasant to him, to have them so +engaged; for though he stood by and talked to her, and laughed at her, +he let the said little fingers have their way; except when they touched +some harsh bit of string, or rough bit of paper, or unmanageable +package, and then his own interfered. It was a bright packing +up--without a shadow, at least that could be called such. But once or +twice, when with some quick movement of Faith's hand the diamonds +flashed forth their weird light suddenly,--she did see that Mr. +Linden's eyes went down, and that his mouth took a set which if not of +pain, was at least sad. It never lasted long--and the next look was +always one of most full pleasure at her. But the second time, Faith's +heart could hardly bear it. She guessed at the why and the what; but +words were too gross a medium to convey from spirit to spirit the touch +that love could give and pain bear. She watched her chance; and when +one of Mr. Linden's hands was for a moment resting on a package that +the other was busied in arranging, suddenly laying the jewelled hand on +his, Faith's lips kept it company. + +"Faith!" he said. And then as if he saw it all, he did not say another +word, only held her for a minute in a very, very close embrace. But +then he whispered, + +"Faith--you must give me that in another way." + +Faith appeared to have exhausted her ammunition, for she only answered +by hiding her face. + +"Faith"--Mr. Linden repeated. + +She looked up slowly, blushing all over; and her very doubtful face +seemed to negative the whole proceeding. But then an irrepressible +little laugh began to play. + +"I wouldn't do it," she said unsteadily,--"at least, I don't know that +I would--if I hadn't wished so very much to give you something +to-day;--and I have nothing else!--" + +And nerving herself desperately, Faith laid one hand on Mr. Linden's +shoulder and slightly raising herself on her toes, did bestow on his +lips as dainty a kiss as ever Santa Claus brought in his box of New +Year curiosities. But she was overcome with confusion the moment she +had done it, and would have rushed off if that had been possible. + +"Let me go"--she said hastily--"let me go!"-- + +In answer to which, she was held as securely fast as she ever had been +in her life. Covering and hiding all of her face that she could, Faith +renewed her request, in a comical tone of humility--as if she didn't +deserve it. + +"I never felt less inclined to let you go!" + +"There is all that work to be done," said Faith, by way of possibly +useful suggestion. + +"Mignonette, will you remember your new lesson?" + +She whispered softly, "No.--It was only Santa Claus." + +"Not Campaspe?" + +"No--Certainly not!" + +"You remember," said Mr. Linden, "that when--'Cupid and Campaspe played +at cards for kisses, _Cupid paid_.'--I was unavoidably reminded of +that. But you may go on with your work,--you know what happens when +lessons are learned imperfectly." And liberty for her work she had; no +more. + +"Child," said her mother coming in, "are you ready for your lunch?" + +"Why no, mother," said Faith with a little laugh,--"of course not! but +I can take it as I go on. There's a good deal of 'sorting' to do yet. I +hope the sleigh is big." + +"Take it as you go on, indeed!" said Mrs. Derrick. "You've got to stop +and eat, child,--you can't live till night with nothing but other +folk's dinners." + +Faith however declared she could not _stop_ to eat; and she contrived +to carry on both the rival occupations together; and even to make right +sure that no one else should attempt to live upon anything more +etherial than sandwiches and pumpkin pie. She drank her coffee in the +intervals of tying packages and writing labels, and ran about with a +sandwich in one hand and a basket in the other; filling Mr. Linden's +cup and putting tempting platefuls in his way. But he was as busy as +she,--spending much of his time at the barn, where Squire +Stoutenburgh's pretty little box sleigh was in process of filling with +cloaks, buffalo robes, and commodities! At last everything was in, and +Mr. Linden came to announce that fact to Faith,--furs and hood were +donned, and the sleigh was off with its whole load. + +Bright, bright the snow was, and blue the shadows, and fair the white +expanse of hill and meadow, all crisp and sparkling. Everybody was +out--which was not wonderful; but so well had Mr. Linden disposed and +covered up his packages, that all anybody could see was that he and +Faith were taking a sleigh-ride,--which was not wonderful either. And +before long they left the more frequented roads, and turned down the +lane that led to the dwelling of Sally Lowndes. How different it looked +now, from that summer evening when Faith had gone there alone. What a +colouring then lay on all the ground that was now white with sunlight +and blue with shade! And also, what a difference in the mental +colouring. But Jerry, travelling faster than her feet had done, soon +brought them to the house. Mr. Linden buckled the tie, and helped +Faith to emerge from the buffalo robes; the winter wind blowing fresh +from the sea, and sweeping over the down till Jerry shook his blanket +in disapproval. + +"Now my little counsellor," said Mr. Linden, "what does your wisdom say +should go in here--besides this basket of substantiate? I think you +know more of these people than I do?"--And the surf in its cold +monotony, said--"Anything warm!" + +"Mother has put in a shawl for Sally," said Faith, getting out the +package;--(it was one that Mrs. Derrick found she could do +without,)--"and a little paper of tea,--tea is Sally's greatest +delight,--here it is!" + +Sally's abode was in nothing different from the run of poor houses in +the country; unpainted of course, outside and inside; a rag carpet on +the floor, a gay patchwork coverlet on the bed. Sally herself was in +the rocking-chair before a little wood fire. But there was not the look +of even poor comfort which may sometimes be seen; want, that told of +lack of means and that also went deeper, was visible in everything. + +"I've come to wish you a happy new year, Sally," said Faith brightly. + +"Laws! I wonder where it's to come from!" said Sally. "If _wishin'_ I +would fetch it--I've wished it to myself till I'm tired. Happy new +years don't come to all folks. Aint that--How do you do, sir!--aint it +the gentleman Jenny told of? that fell down at Mr. Simlins' door?" + +"And got up again?" said Mr. Linden. "Yes, I presume I am the very +person Jenny told of. I remember that Jenny was very kind to me, too. +Where is she?" + +"O she's to Mr. Simlinses all along! she's got a good place; she knows +when she's comfortable. She don't think of me stayin' here all alone." + +"But aren't you comfortable, Sally?" said Faith. + +"I should like to know how I would be! Folks that _is_ comfortable +thinks all the world is like them! If they didn't they'd help." + +"Well what is the first thing that would help to make you comfortable?" +said Mr. Linden. + +Sally looked at him, up and down. + +"I'd like to see a speck o' somebody's face now and then. I mope and +mope, till I wish I'd die to get rid of it! You see, sir, I aint as I +used to was; and my family aint numerous now. There's no one lives in +this house over my head but me and a girl what stays by me to do +chores. Aint that a life for a spider?" + +Faith had been stealthily unfolding the shawl and now put it round +Sally's shoulders. "Will _that_ help to make you comfortable?" she said +gently. + +"Laws!" said Sally--"aint that smart! That's good as far as it goes. +Where did that come from?" + +"Mother sent it to you, for New Year." + +"It's real becoming of her!" said Sally in a mollified tone, feeling of +the shawl. "Well I won't say this New Years haint brought me something." + +"It brings you too much cold air at present," Mr. Linden said. "Do you +know that window lets in about as much cold as it keeps out?" + +"Well I reckon I do," said Sally. "I've nothin' to do all day but sit +here and realize onto it. There aint no such a thing as buildin' a fire +in the chimney that'll keep out the cold from that winter." + +"I should think not!--the way is to attack the window itself," he said, +looking at it as if he were studying the attack. + +"We've brought you something else here, Sally, to help keep out the +cold," said Faith. "May I put the things in your closet--so as to carry +home my basket?" + +"Yes, if you like. What have you got there, Faith?" said Miss Lowndes +looking into the closet after her. + +"There's a piece of beef, Sally, of mother's own curing--all ready +cooked--so you'll have nothing to do but cook your potatoes--and mother +thought you'd like a few of our potatoes, they're good this year. Then +here is a little paper of tea she sent you, and I've brought you one of +my own pumpkin pies--so you must say it is good, Sally." + +"Well I'm beat!" said Sally. "Haint you got something else?" + +She was like to be beat on all hands; for Mr. Linden who had been +examining the window while Faith emptied her basket, now went out and +presently brought back hammer and nails and strips of lath, that made +Faith wonder whether he had brought a tool-chest along. But the noise +of his hammer was much more cheerful than the rattling of the window, +and when it had done its work outside as well as in, the wind might +whistle for admission in vain. He came in and stood by the fire for a +moment then, before they set off, and asked Faith softly what else was +wanted? And Faith whispered in answer-- + +"'The Dairyman's Daughter?' but you must give it." + +"Can't you get some comfort in reading your Bible, Sally?" said Faith +while Mr. Linden went out to the sleigh with his hammer and nails. + +"Laws!" said Sally--"what's the use! I haint got the heart to take the +trouble to read, half the time." + +"If you read one half the time, and pray too, Sally, you'll soon get +heart for the other half." + +"It's easy talkin'"--was Sally's encouraging view of the case. + +"It's a great deal easier doing," said Faith. "If you try it, Sally, +it'll make you so glad you'll never say you want comfort again." + +"Well you've brought me a heap to-day anyhow," said Sally. "Just look +at that winder! I declare!--I 'spect I'll make out to eat my dinner +to-day without scolding." + +Mr. Linden came back with the tract, but kept it in his hand for a +minute. + +"Do you know, Sally, how a house is built upon the bare ground?" he +said. "The mason lays down one stone, and then another on that; and if +he cannot have his choice of stones he takes just what come to +hand--little and big, putting in plenty of mortar to bind all together. +Now that's the way you must build up a happy year for yourself,--and in +that way every one can." The words were spoken very brightly, without a +touch of faultfinding. + +"Well"--said Sally rocking herself back and forth in the +rocking-chair--"I 'spect you know how."--Which might have been meant as +a compliment, or as an excuse. + +"I think you do," said Mr. Linden smiling; "and I am going to leave you +a true story of how it was really done by somebody else. Will you read +it?" + +"Yes"--said Sally continuing to rock. "I'll do any thing you ask me +to--after that winder. You've given me a good start--anyways. I'd as +lieves hear you talk as most things." + +There was not time for much more talk then, however. Mr. Linden and +Faith went away, leaving the little book on the table. But when Sally +went to take a nearer view of its words of golden example, there lay on +it the first real little gold piece Sally had ever possessed. + +"That was a good beginning," said Faith in a sort of quiet glee, after +she had got into the sleigh again. "I knew, before, we were like a +butcher and baker setting off on their travels; but I had no idea there +was a carpenter stowed away anywhere!" And her laugh broke forth upon +the air of those wild downs, as Jerry turned his head about. + +"I must be something, you know," said Mr. Linden,--"and I don't choose +to be the butcher--and certainly am not the baker." + +They turned into the village again, and then down towards the shore; +getting brilliant glimpses of the Sound now and then, and a pretty keen +breeze. But the sun was strong in its modifying power, and bright and +happy spirits did the rest. One little pause the sleigh made at the +house where Faith had had her decisive interview with Squire Deacon, +but they did not get out there; only gave a selection of comforts into +the hands of one of the household, and jingled on their way shorewards. +Not turning down to the bathing region, but taking a road that ran +parallel with the Sound. + +"Do you remember our first walk down here, Faith?" said Mr. +Linden,--"when you said you had shewed me the shore?" + +"Well I did," said Faith smiling,--"I shewed you what I knew; but you +shewed me what I had never known before." + +"I'm sure you shewed me some things I had never known before," he said +laughing a little. "Do you know where we are going now?"--they had left +the beaten road, and entered a by-way where only footsteps marked the +snow, and no sleigh before their own had broken ground. It seemed to be +a sort of coast-way,--leading right off towards the dashing Sound and +its low points and inlets. The shore was marked with ice as well as +foam; the water looked dark and cold, with the white gulls soaring and +dipping, and the white line of Long Island in the distance. + +"No, I don't know. Where are we going? O how beautiful! O how +beautiful!" Faith exclaimed. "Hasn't every time its own pleasure! Where +are we going, Endecott?" + +"To see one who Dr. Harrison 'fancies' may have 'something in him.' +Whatever made the doctor take such a dislike to Reuben?" + +Faith did not answer, and instead looked forward with a sort of +contemplative gravity upon her brow. Her cheeks were already so +brilliant with riding in the fresh air that a little rise of colour +could hardly have been noticed. + +"Do you know?" + +Faith presently replied that she supposed it was a dislike taken up +without any sort of real ground. + +"Well to tell you the truth, my little Mignonette," said Mr. Linden, +"the doctor's twenty-five dollars gives me some trouble in that +connexion. Reuben will take favours gladly from anybody that likes him, +but towards people who do not (they are very few, indeed) he is as +proud as if he had the Bank of England at his back. _I_ might send him +a dinner every day if I chose; but if Reuben were starving, his +conscience would have a struggle with him before he would take bread +from Dr. Harrison." + +Faith listened very seriously and her conclusion was a very earnest +"Oh, I am sorry!--But then," she went on thoughtfully,--"I don't know +that Dr. Harrison _dislikes_ Reuben.--He don't understand him, how +should he?--and I know they have never seemed to get on well +together.--" + +"I chose to answer for him the other day," said Mr. Linden--"and I +shall not let him refuse; but I have questioned whether I would tell +him anything about the money till he is ready for the books. Then if he +should meet the doctor, and the doctor should ask him!--" + +Faith was silent a bit. + +"But Reuben will do what you tell him," she said. "And besides, Reuben +was doing everything he could for Dr. Harrison the other night--he +can't refuse to let Dr. Harrison do something for him. I don't think he +ought." + +"He had no thought of reward. Still, he would not refuse, if he +supposed any part of the 'doing' was out of care for him,--and you know +I cannot tell him that I think it is. But I shall talk to him about it. +Not to-day: I will not run the risk of spoiling his pleasure at the +sight of us. There--do you see that little beaver-like hut on the next +point?--that is where he lives." + +Faith looked at it with curious interest. That little brown spot amidst +the waste of snow and waters--that was where the fisherman's boy lived; +and there he was preparing himself for college. And for what beside? + +"Will Reuben or his father be hurt at all at anything we have brought +them?" she said then. + +"No, they will take it all simply for what it is,--a New Year's gift. +And Reuben would not dream of being hurt by anything we could do,--he +is as humble as he is proud. We are like enough to find him alone." + +And so they found him. With an absorbed ignoring of sleigh-bells and +curiosity--perhaps because the former rarely came for him,--Reuben had +sat still at his work until his visiters knocked at the low door. But +then he came with a step and face ready to find Mr. Linden--though not +Faith; and his first flush of pleasure deepened with surprise and even +a little embarrassment as he ushered her in. There was no false pride +about it, but "Miss Faith" was looked upon by all the boys as a dainty +thing; and Reuben placed a chair for her by the drift-wood fire, with +as much feeling of the unfitness of surrounding circumstances, as if +she had been the Queen. Something in the hand that was laid on his +shoulder brushed that away; and then Reuben looked and spoke as usual. + +Surrounding circumstances were not so bad, after all. Faith had noticed +how carefully and neatly the snow was cleared from the door and down to +the water's edge, and everything within bore the same tokens. The room +was very tiny, the floor bare--but very clean; the blazing drift-wood +the only adornment. Yet not so: for on an old sea chest which graced +one side of the room, lay Reuben's work which they had interrupted. An +open book, with one or two others beside it; and by them all, with mesh +and netting-kneedle and twine, lay an old net which Reuben had been +repairing. The drift-wood had stone supporters,--the winter wind swept +in a sort of grasping way round the little hut; and the dashing of the +Sound waters, and the sharp war of the floating ice, broke the +stillness. But they were very glad eyes that Reuben lifted to Mr. +Linden's face and a very glad alacrity brought forward a little box for +Faith to rest her feet. + +"Don't you mean to sit down, Mr. Linden?" he said. + +"To be sure I do. But I haven't wished you a happy New Year yet." And +the lips that Reuben most reverenced in the world, left their greeting +on his forehead. It was well the boy found something to do--with the +fire, and Faith's box, and Mr. Linden's chair! But then he stood silent +and quiet as before. + +"Don't _you_ mean to sit down, Reuben?" said Faith. + +Reuben smiled,--not as if he cared about a seat; but he brought forward +another little box, not even the first cousin of Faith's, and sat down +as she desired. + +"Didn't you find it very cold, Miss Faith?" he said, as if he could not +get used to seeing her there. "Are you getting warm now?" + +Faith said she hadn't been cold; and would fast enough have entered +into conversation with Reuben, but she thought he would rather hear +words from other lips, and was sure that other lips could give them +better. + +"And have you got quite well, ma'm?" said Reuben. + +"Don't I look well?" she said smiling at him. "What are you doing over +there, Reuben?--making a net?" + +"O I was mending it, Miss Faith." + +"I can't afford to have you at that work just now," said Mr. +Linden,--"you know we begin school again to-morrow. You must tell your +father from me, Reuben, that he must please to use his new one for the +present, and let you mend up that at your leisure. Will you?" + +Reuben flushed--looking up and then down as he said, "Yes, sir,"--and +then very softly, "O Mr. Linden, you needn't have done that!" + +"Of course I need not--people never need please themselves, I suppose. +But you know, Reuben, there is a great deal of Santa Glaus work going +on at this time of year, and Miss Faith and I have had some of it put +in our hands. I won't answer for what she'll do with you!--but you must +try and bear it manfully." + +Reuben laughed a little--half in sympathy with the bright words and +smile, half as if the spirit of the time had laid hold of him. + +"You know, Mr. Linden," said Faith laughing, but appealingly +too,--"that Reuben will get worse handling from you than he will from +me!--so let him have the worst first." + +"I'll bring in your basket," was all he said,--and the basket came in +accordingly; Reuben feeling too bewildered to even offer his services. + +Faith found herself in a corner. She jumped up and placed herself in +front of the basket so as to hide it. "Wait!"--she said. "Reuben, how +much of a housekeeper are you?" + +"I don't know, Miss Faith,--I don't believe I ever was tried." + +"Do you know how to make mince pies, for instance?" + +But Reuben shook his head, with a low-spoken, "No, Miss Faith,"--a +little as if she were somehow transparent, and he was viewing the +basket behind her. + +"Never mind my questions," said Faith, "but tell me. Could you stuff a +turkey, do you think, if you tried?" + +"I suppose I could--somehow," Reuben said, colouring and laughing. "I +never tried, Miss Faith." + +"Then you couldn't!" said Faith, her laugh rolling round the little +room, as softly as the curls of smoke went up the chimney. "You needn't +think you could! But Reuben, since you can't, don't you think you would +let me do it once for you?" + +Reuben's words were not ready in answer. But a bashful look at Faith's +face--and her hands,--one that reminded her of the clam-roasting,--was +followed by a grateful, low-spoken--"I don't think you ought to do +anything for _me_, Miss Faith." + +"I have had so much pleasure in it, Reuben, you'll have to forgive +me;"--Faith answered, withdrawing from the basket. + +"You must look into that at your leisure, Reuben," Mr. Linden said, as +he watched the play of feeling in the boy's face. "Miss Faith is in no +hurry for her basket." + +Reuben heard him silently, and as silently lifted the basket from where +it stood and set it carefully on the table. But then he came close up +to Faith and stood by her side. "You are _very_ good, Miss Faith!" he +said. "I don't know how to thank you." + +"Reuben!" said Faith colouring--"you mustn't thank me at all. I've just +had the pleasure of doing--but it is Mr. Linden that has brought the +basket here, and me too." + +"And he must take you away," Mr. Linden said. "Reuben, you may thank +Miss Faith just as much as you please. If I had nothing else to do, I +should invite my self here to dinner, but as it is I must be off. Are +you ready?" he said to Faith, while in silence Reuben knelt down to put +on again the moccasins which she had thrown off, and then she followed +Mr. Linden. Reuben followed too,--partly to help their arrangements, +partly at Mr. Linden's bidding to bring back the net. But when there +was added thereto a little package which could only mean books, +Reuben's cup of gravity, at least, was full; and _words_ of good-bye he +had none. + +And for a few minutes after they drove away Faith too was silent with +great pleasure. She hardly knew, though she felt, how bright the sun +was on the snow, and how genial his midday winter beams; and with how +crisp a gleam the light broke on ice points and crests of foam and +glanced from the snow-banks. The riches of many days seemed crowded +into the few hours of that morning. Were they not on a "shining" +expedition! Had they not been leaving sunbeams of gladness in house +after house, that would shine on, nobody knew how long! Faith was too +glad for a little while not to feel very sober; those sunbeams came +from so high a source, and were wrought in with others that so wrapped +her own life about. So she looked at Jerry's ears and said nothing. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said suddenly, "I wish I could tell you what it is +to me to be going these rounds with you!" + +Faith shewed a quick, touched little smile. "I've been thinking just +now,--what it means." + +"I should like to have the explanation of those last three words." + +"What it means?"--and the slight play of her lips did not at all hinder +the deep, deep strength of her thought from being manifest.--"It means, +all you have taught me and led me to!--" + +"You don't intend to lead me to a very clear understanding," he said +playfully, and yet with a tone that half acknowledged her meaning. "Do +you ever remember what you have taught me?--They say one should at the +end of the year, reckon up all the blessings it has brought,--but I +know not where to begin, nor how to recount them. This year!--it has +been like the shield in the old fable,--it seemed to me of iron to look +forward to--so cold and dark,--and it has been all gold!" + +"Did it look so?" she said with quick eyes of sympathy. + +"Yes, little Sunbeam, it looked so; and there were enough earthly +reasons why it should. But unbelief has had a rebuke for once;--if I +know myself, I am ready now to go forward without a question!" + +Over what Hill Difficulty did that future road lie?--He did not +explain, and the next words came with a different tone,--one that +almost put the other out of Faith's head. "My little Sunbeam, do you +keep warm?" + +"Yes"--she said with a somewhat wistful look that came from a sunbeam +determined upon doing its very best of shining, for him. But she was +silent again for a minute. "There are plenty of sunbeams abroad to-day, +Endecott," she said then with rare sweetness of tone, that touched but +did not press upon his tone of a few minutes ago. + +"Dear Faith," he said looking at her, and answering the wistfulness and +the smile and the voice all in one,--"do you know I can never find +words that just suit me for you?--And do you know that I think there +was never such a New Year's day heard of?--it is all sunshine! Just +look how the light is breaking out there upon the ice, and touching the +waves, and shining through that one little cloud,--and guess how I feel +it in my heart. Do you know how much work of this sort, and of every +sort, you and I shall have to do together, little child, if we live?" + +It was a look of beauty that answered,--so full in its happiness, so +blushing and shy; but Faith's words were as simple as they were earnest. + +"I wish it. There can't be too much." + +Their course now became rather irregular; crossing about from one spot +to another, and through a part of the country where Faith had never +been. Here was a sort of shore population,--people living upon rocks +and sand rent free, or almost that; and supporting themselves otherwise +as best they might. A scattered, loose-built hamlet, perching along the +icy shore, and with its wild winds to rock the children to sleep, and +the music of the waves for a lullaby. But the children throve with such +nursing, if one might judge by the numbers that tumbled in the snow and +clustered on the doorsteps; and the amusement they afforded Faith was +not small. The houses were too many here to have time for a _visit_ to +each,--a pause at the door, and the leaving of some little token of +kindness, was all that could be attempted; and the tokens were various. +Faith's loaves of bread, and her pieces of meat, or papers from the +stock of tea and sugar with which she had been furnished, or a bowl of +broth jelly for some sick person,--a pair of woollen stockings, +perhaps, or a flannel jacket, for some rheumatic old man or woman,--or +a bible,--or a combination of different things where the need demanded. +But Faith's special fun was with the children. + +When they first entered the hamlet, Mr. Linden brought forward and set +at her feet one basket of trifling juvenile treasures, and another +filled more substantially with apples and cakes and sugarplums; and +then as all the children were out of doors, he drove slowly and let her +delight as many of them as she chose. What pleasure it was!--those +little cold hands, so unwonted to cakes and that could hardly hold +apples,--how eagerly, how shyly, they were stretched out!--with what +flourishes of bare feet or old shoes the young ones scampered away, or +stood gazing after Jerry's little dust-cloud of snow;--ever after to +remember and tell of this day, as one wherein a beautiful lady dressed +up like a pussy cat, gave them an apple, or a stick of candy, or a +picture book! Faith was in a debate between smiles and tears by the +time they were through the hamlet and dashing out again on the open +snow, for Mr. Linden had left all that part of the business to her; +though the children all seemed to know him--and he them--by heart. + +And good note Faith took of that, and laid up the lesson. She had been +a very good Santa Claus the while, and had acted the part of a sunbeam +indifferent well; being just about so bright and so soft in all her +dealings with those same little cold hands and quick spirits; giving +them their apples and candy with a good envelope of gentle words and +laughter. Seeing that she had it to do, she went into the game +thoroughly. But once she made a private protest. + +"Do you know, Endecott, these things would taste a great deal sweeter +if your hand gave them?" + +"I know nothing of the sort! Sweeter?--look at that urchin deep in +peppermint candy,--could anything enhance the spice or the sweetness of +that?" + +"Yes," said Faith shaking her head--"and look at that little girl +before him, who took the apple and looked at you all the while!" + +"She has an eye for contrast," he said laughing, "and is probably +wondering why all people can't look alike!" + +Faith did not secretly blame her, but she left that subject. + +It was to the furthest point of their round that they went +now,--another fisherman's house--far, far off, on the shore. A little +larger than Reuben's, but not so neatly kept; as indeed how could it +be? with so many children,--or how could the house hold them, in those +times of weather when they condescended to stay in! They were in pretty +good order, to do their mother justice, and she in great delight at the +sight of her visiters. There was no room for silence here--or at least +no silence in the room, for Mrs. Ling was never at a loss for words. +And there was no need of much circumlocution in presenting the +turkey,--nothing but pleasure could come of it, let it enter on which +foot it would; and the train of potatoes, and tea, and bread, and other +things, fairly made Mrs. Ling's eyes shine,--though she talked away as +fast as ever. The children were in spirits too great to be got rid of +in any ordinary way, especially the youngest walking Ling; whose turn +having not yet come for a pair of shoes from his father's pocket, was +now to be fitted out of Mr. Linden's sleigh. And the shoes did fit--and +little Japhet marked his sense of the obligation by at once requesting +Faith to tie them. Which Faith did in a state of delight too great for +words. + +"Now what do you feel like?" she said, when Japhet was fairly shod and +she still stooping at his feet. + +"I feel like a king!" said Japhet promptly,--which had been the height +of his unrepublican ambition for some time. + +"Dear sakes!" said his mother, who had heard the child's request too +late to interfere,--"I hope you'll not mind him, ma'am,--he oughter +know better, but he don't. And poor things, when they gets pleased--it +aint often, you see, ma'am, so I can't be hard upon 'em. Do you feel +warm?--we do make out to keep warm, most times." + +"I am quite warm, thank you; but I should think you'd feel the wind +down here. Japhet,"--said Faith, who had brought in her basket of +varieties and whose quiet eyes were fairly in a dance with fun and +delight,--"which do you think kings like best--cookies or candy?" + +To which Japhet with equal promptness replied, + +"Candy--and cookies." + +"Don't!"--his mother said again,--but the basket of varieties looked +almost as wonderful to her eyes as to those of the children, who now +gathered round as near as they dare come, while Mrs. Ling cautiously +peeped over their heads. + +"I see you feel like a king!" said Faith filling both Japhet's +hands.--"There! now I hope you don't feel like Alexander." + +"Alexander haint got nothin'!" said Japhet, looking towards his eldest +brother. + +Which did not overset Faith's gravity, because by this time she had +none to speak of. Alexander's delight was found to be in red apples, +and he thought a little common top a treasure such as neither Diogenes +nor the real Alexander knew of between them! One little girl was made +happy with a wonderful picture-book in which there were a dog, a cat, +and a lion with a great mane just ready to eat a man up, with the +stories thereto pertaining; and a neat little slate seemed a most +desirable acquisition to the bright eyes of an older girl. They were +all more satisfied than the conqueror of the world by the time Faith +rose from the basket; and then she offered her tribute of gingerbread +to Mrs. Ling. The little girl with the slate, once released from the +spell of the basket, went up to Mr. Linden (who had stood looking on) +and said,--"She's awake now, if you please, sir,"--and he turned and +went into the next room, leaving Mrs. Ling to entertain Faith as best +she might. For which Mrs. Ling was most ready. + +"Ma always does want to see him"--she said. "You see, ma'am, she can't +never get up now, so it's a play to hear somebody talk. And ma likes +him special. Mr. Somers he's been kind too--and Mrs.--he come down when +ma was first took, and since; but someways she don't just see into him +much. I don' know but it's along of his bein' better than other +folks--but after all, a person wants to have even good things talked to +'em so's they can understand. Now Mr. Linden,--my Mary there 'll listen +to him for an hour, and never lose a word." And Mary's bright little +eyes answered that readily, while Mrs. Ling's went back to the basket. + +"I can't believe!" she said. "You don't know what you've done, ma'am! +Why there aint one o' them children as ever see a real live turkey +cooked, in their existence." + +"You don't know what pleasure I had in doing it for them, Mrs. Ling. +Mr. Linden told me there was a houseful of children." + +"Well so there is!" said Mrs. Ling looking round the room,--"and it's +no wonder he thinks so, for they tease him most out of his life +sometimes when he's here,--or would if he wam't as good-natured as the +day's long. But there aint one too many, after all said and done, for +I've got nothing else,--so if it warn't for them I should be poorly +off." With which reverse statement of the case, Mrs. Ling complacently +smoothed down four or five heads, and tied as many aprons. + +"Ma," said little Mary, "will Mr. Linden sing for us to-day?" + +"I dare say--if you ask him pretty," said her mother. "No, I guess he's +busy and won't be bothered." + +"He never _is_ bothered," said Mary persistently, while two or three of +the others recovering from their apples and shyness, ventured up to +Faith again and began to stroke her furs. + +"What does he sing for you, Jenny?" said Faith, taking the little +picture-book girl on her lap, and glad to put her own face down in a +somewhat sheltered position. + +"O he sings hymns--" said Jenny, gazing abstractedly at the lion and +the cat by turns,--"and other things too, sometimes." + +"Hymns are very interesting. And beautiful--don't you think so?" said +Mary drawing nearer. + +"Yes, indeed I do," said Faith stretching out her hand and pulling the +little girl up to her. "What ones do you like best, Mary?" + +But Mary's answer stayed, for Mr. Linden came back at that moment, and +skilfully making his way up to Faith without running over any of the +little throng, he told her he was ready. And Faith, though secretly +wishing for the song as much as any of the children, set Jenny on the +floor and rose up; while Mr. Linden laughingly shewed her "an excellent +way of investing ten cents," by giving the children each one. Meanwhile +Mrs. Ling had been emptying the basket. There was the cold turkey in +the full splendour of its rich brown coat--a good large turkey too; but +lest there should not be enough of it to go round to so many mouths, +Mrs. Derrick and Faith had added a nice piece, ready boiled, of salt +pork. Then there were potatoes, and some of Faith's bread,--and a paper +of tea and another of sugar; and there was arrowroot, made and unmade, +for the sick woman, with some broth jelly. It was one of those houses +where a good deal was wanted, and the supply had been generous in +proportion. Mrs. Ling was at her wits' end to dispose of it all; and +the children watched her in a gale of excitement, till the last thing +was carried off, and Mrs. Ling began to shake out the napkins and fold +them up. But then they came round Mr. Linden with their petition, +urging it with such humble pertinacity, that he was fain at last to +comply. It was only a child's Christmas hymn, set to a simple, bright, +quick tune, which at first kept some of the smallest feet in a greater +state of unrest than the older children thought at all respectful. + + "O little children, sing! + Jesus, your Lord and King + For you a child became: + On that bright Christmas day + He in a manger lay, + Who hath the one Almighty name! + + "Come children, love him now, + Before the Saviour bow, + Give him each little heart. + His spotless nature see,-- + Then like him spotless be, + And choose his service for your part. + + "The joy of loving him + Shall never fade nor dim,-- + While worldly joys fly fast:-- + Jesus to see and love, + First here and then above, + Such joy shall ever, ever last. + + "I'll give myself away + On this new Christmas day,-- + He gave his life for me! + Jesus, my heart is thine, + O make it humbly shine + With ever-living love to thee! + + "O Jesus, our Great Friend, + Our Saviour, without end + Thy praises we will bring! + Glory to God's high throne! + Peace now on earth is known, + And we for joy may ever sing!" + + +"There"--Mr. Linden said, breaking the hush into which the children had +subsided, and gently disengaging himself from them,--"now I have given +you something to think of, and you must do it, and let me go." And he +and Faith were presently on their way; Faith feeling that she had +"something to think of" too. + +The sun was westing fast as they turned, but now their way lay towards +home, via sundry other places. The long sunbeams were passing lovely as +they lay upon the snow, and the fantastic shadows of Jerry and the +sleigh and all it held, were in odd harmony and contrast. The +poverty-stricken house to which the two had walked that memorable +night, had been already visited and passed, and several others with +sick or poor inhabitants. Then Mr. Linden turned off down one of the +scarce broken by-roads, and stopped before a little lonely brown house +with an old buttonwood tree in front. + +"There is a blanket to go in here, Faith," he said as he took her out, +"and also my hammer!--for there is always something to do." + +"Always something to do at this house?" + +"Yes," he answered laughingly,--"so you must hold in check your +aversion to carpenters." + +"If you'll please have a charity for the butcher and baker, and tell me +what I shall take in here? for my part." + +"O we'll go in and find out,--these good people are never just suited +unless they have the ordering of everything. They'll tell us what they +want fast enough, but if we guessed at it beforehand, they would maybe +find out that those were just the things they did _not_ want. Only my +hammer--I'm sure of that." + +The "good people" in question, were an old man and his wife, living in +one little room and with very little furniture. Very deaf the old man +was, and both of them dimsighted, so that the old bible on the shelf +was only a thing to look at,--if indeed it had ever been anything more, +which some people doubted. This was one of the first things Mr. Linden +took hold of after the kind greetings were passed, and he gave it to +Faith; telling her that old Mr. Roscom always expected his visitors to +read to him, and that if she would do that, he would mend Mrs. Roscom's +spinning-wheel--which he saw was ready for him. + +Faith threw back her hood and her furs, and took a seat close by the +old man; and the first thing he heard was her sweet voice asking him +where she should read, or if he liked to hear any part in particular. + +"No," he said, "he liked to have it surprise him." + +Faith pondered how she should best surprise him, but she had not much +time to spare and no chance to ask counsel. So she read as her heart +prompted her,--first the fifth chapter of II. Corinthians--with its +joyful Christian profession and invitation to others; then she read the +account of Jesus' healing the impotent man and bidding him "sin no +more"; and then she turned over to the Psalms and gave Mr. Roscom the +beautiful 103d psalm of thanksgiving,--which after those other two +passages seemed particularly beautiful. This was work that Faith loved, +and she read so. + +How softly the hammer worked while she read, she might have noticed if +her mind had not been full; but though she had no word from that +quarter, Mr. Roscom's opinion was clear. + +"That's good," he said,--"and strong;--and I'm obleeged to ye." + +And then, the wheel being near done, there was a little skilful talk +gone into; in the course of which Faith and Mr. Linden learned, that +the old couple were "real tired of salt meat, some days"--and that rye +bread "warnt thought wholesome by itself"--and that "if their tea +should give out they didn't know what they _should_ do!"--and that +"times when the old man was a little poorly, nothing on airth would +serve him but a roasted potato!" All of which was said just for the +pleasure of talking to sympathizing faces,--without the least idea of +what was at the door. The blanket was too old a want to be spoken of, +but Faith needed only to look at the bed. And then she looked at Mr. +Linden, in delighted watch to see what his next move would be; in the +intervals of her chat with Mr. Roscom, which was very lively. + +Mr. Linden had finished his work, and stood balancing his hammer and +listening to the catalogue of wants with a smile both grave and bright. + +"Are these just the things you wish for?" he said. "Well--'your Father +knoweth that ye have need of them,'--and he has sent them by our hands +to-day; so you see that you may trust him for the future." + +He laid his hand on Faith's shoulder as an invitation to her to follow, +and went out to the sleigh. She was at the side of it as soon as he, +and in it the next minute, stopping to give him only with the eye one +warm speech of sympathy and joy. + +"You haven't put up a basket specially for these people, of course," +she said,--"so we shall have to take the things from everywhere. +There's a beautiful chicken in that basket, Endecott--I know; that's +the largest one we have left; and bread--there aren't but two loaves +here!--shall we give them both? Or do we want one somewhere else?" + +"I think we may give them both. And Faith--don't you think a roasted +apple might alternate usefully with the potato?" + +Faith dived into the receptacle for apples and brought out a good +quantity of the right kind. Potatoes were not in very large supply, but +tea and sugar were--blessed things!--unfailing. + +"And here is a pumpkin pie!" said Faith--"I am sure they'll like +that--and as many cookies and cruller as you like. And what else, +Endecott?--O here's a pair of those big socks mother knit--wouldn't +they be good here?" + +"Very good, dear child!--and this blanket must go--and some +tracts,--that will furnish more reading. You run in with those, +Faith--these other things are too heavy for you." + +"I've strength enough to carry a blanket," said Faith laughing. + +"Well, run off with that too, then," said Mr. Linden, "only if your +strength gives out by the way, please to fall on the blanket." + +Faith managed to reach the house safely and with a bright face +deposited the blanket on a chair. "I got leave to bring this in to you, +Mrs. Roscom," she said. "I suppose you know what Mr. Linden means you +to do with it." + +Perhaps they had seen no two people in the course of the day more +thoroughly pleased than these two. The sources of pleasure were not +many in that house, and the expectation of pleasure not strong; and the +need of comforts had not died out with the supply; and old and alone as +they were, the looking forward to possible cold and hunger was a trial. +It was easy to see how that blanket warmed the room and promised a mild +winter, and how the socks be came liniment,--and it seemed doubtful +whether the old man would ever be sick enough for roast potatoes, with +the potatoes really in the house. So with other things,--they took a +childish pleasure even in the cakes and pie, and an order for wood was +a real relief. And what a dinner they were already eating in +imagination! + +Mr. Linden had put Faith in the sleigh, with the last sunset rays +playing about her; and he stood wrapping her up in all sorts of ways, +and the old man and the old woman stood in the door to see. Then in a +voice which he supposed to be a whisper, Mr. Roscom said,-- + +"Be she his wife?" + +"He didn't say--and I don' know _what_ he said," screamed Mrs. Roscom. + +"Wal--she's handsome enough for it--and so's he," said the old man +contemplatively. "I hope he'll get one as good!" + +Very merrily Mr. Linden laughed as they drove away. + +"I hope I shall!" he said. "Faith, what do you think of that? And which +of us has the compliment?" + +But Faith was engaged in pulling her furs and buffalo robes round her, +and did not appear to consider compliments even a matter of moonshine; +much less of sunshine. Her first words were to remark upon the +exceeding beauty of the last touch the sunlight was giving to certain +snowy heights and white cumuli floating above them; a touch so fair and +calm as if heaven were setting its own seal on this bright day. + +"Is your heart in the clouds?" Mr. Linden said, bending down to look at +her with his laughing eyes. "How can you abstract your thoughts so +suddenly from all sublunary affairs! Do you want any more wrapping up?" + +A little flashing glance of most naive appeal, and Faith's eyes went +down absolutely. + +"You may as well laugh!" he said. "One cannot get through the world +without occasionally hearing frightful suggestions." + +Faith did laugh, and gave him another _good_ little look, about which +the only remarkable thing was that it was afraid to stay. + +"What were your cloudy remarks just now?" said Mr. Linden. + +"I wanted you to look at the beautiful light on them and those far-off +ridges of hill--it is not gone yet." + +"Yes, they are very beautiful. But I believe I am not in a meditative +mood to-day,--or else the rival colours distract me. Faith, I mean to +put you in the witness-box again." + +"In the witness-box?"--she said with a mental jump to Neanticut, and a +look to suit. + +"Yes--but we are not on the banks of Kildeer river, and need not be +afraid," he said with a smile. "Faith--what ever made you take such an +aversion to Phil Davids?" + +"I don't dislike him,"--she said softly. + +"I did not mean to doubt your forgiving disposition! But what did he do +to displease you?" + +Did Mr. Linden know? or did he _not_ know! Faith looked up to see. He +was just disentangling one of the lines from Jerry's tail, but met her +look with great composure. + +"It's an old thing,"--said Faith. "It's not worth bringing up." + +"But since I have brought it--won't you indulge me?" + +The red on Faith's cheeks grew brilliant. "It isn't anything you would +like,--if I told it to you.--Won't you let me let it alone?" + +"I should like to hear you tell it." + +"He made one or two rude speeches"--said Faith in very great doubt and +confusion;--"that was all." + +"_That_ I knew before." + +"Did you?" said Faith looking at him. "How did you know it, Endecott?" + +There was a curious gentle, almost tender, modulation of tone in this +last sentence, which covered a good deal of possible ground. Mr. Linden +drew up one of her mufflers which had fallen off a little, giving her +as he did so a silent though laughing answer, as comprehensive as her +question. + +"You are just the dearest and most precious little child in the whole +world!" he said. "But why are you afraid to tell me _now?_--and why did +Phil's insinuation cause you such dismay?" + +Faith's confusion would have been, as her rosy flush was, extreme,--if +something in Mr. Linden's manner had not met that and rebuked it, +healing the wound almost before it was made. Between the two Faith +struggled for a standing-ground of equanimity,--but words, though she +struggled for them too, in her reason or imagination she could not find. + +"I want an answer to one of these questions,"--Mr. Linden said, in a +playful sort of tone. "Dr. Harrison used to ask me if you lived upon +roses--but do you think I can?" + +Faith made an effort. "What do you want me to say?" + +"What was it in Phil's words that troubled you so much?" + +The crimson rush came back overwhelmingly. "Oh Endy--please don't ask +me!" + +"Not quite fair,"--he said smiling. "I'm sure I am willing to tell +_you_ anything. Though indeed I do not suppose you need much telling. +But Faith--is _that_ the system of tactics by which you intend always +to have your own way? I shall have to be philosophical to any point!" + +"That speech is so very zigzag," said Faith, "that I cannot follow it. +How are you going to be philosophical, Mr. Linden?" + +"Not by forgetting to exact your forfeit, Miss Derrick." + +"That isn't fair," said Faith laughing. "I didn't for get!--I shouldn't +think you had gone all day without eating anything!--and yet you must +be starving." + +"For what? little provider." + +"For something to eat, I should think." + +"Does that mean that you are suffering?--because if that be the case, I +will refresh you (cautiously) with sugar-plums! A very superfluous +thing, to be sure, but the most suitable I can think of." + +Faith's laugh came clear now. "No indeed. Suffering! I never eat so +many dinners in one day in my life. But I am hungry though, I believe. +How many more places are we going to? I don't care how many," she said +earnestly. "I like to be hungry." + +"Well, keep up your spirits,--the next turn will bring us out of the +woods, and a three-minute stay at one or two doors will end our work +for this time. Meanwhile, do you want to hear a little bit of good +poetry--on an entirely new subject?" + +"Oh yes! if you please." + +Demurely enough it was given.-- + + "'Her true beauty leaves behind + Apprehensions in my mind + Of more sweetness, than all art + Or inventions can impart. + Thoughts too deep to be expressed, + And too strong to be repressed.'" + + +She gave him a wistful look as he finished the lines; and then sat +among her furs, as quiet again as a mouse. + +"Do you like them, Mignonette?" + +"Yes--very much." + +"Would you like to tell me then why the hearing of them makes you +sober?" + +"Yes--if you wish"; she said gently. "I know--a little--I +believe,--what you think of me; but what I seem to your eyes on the +outside--and much more!--I want to be really, really--in the sight of +the eye that tries the heart--and I am not now, Endy." + +"My dear child--" he said,--and was silent a minute, speeding smoothly +along through the starlight; then went on. + +"Yes, dear Faith,--that is what I wish for you--and for myself. That is +where we will most earnestly try to help each other." And presently, as +eye and thoughts were caught and held by the wonderful constellation +above in the clear sky, yet not drawn away from what they had been +talking of, Mr. Linden said,-- + +"'Seek him that maketh the seven stars and Orion,--that bringeth the +shadow of death upon the day, and turneth the night into morning!'" And +so, in the thought of that, they went home; Orion looking down upon +them, and they leaving bits of brightness by the way at the two or +three houses which yet remained. The box sleigh got home at last +emptied of all its load but the two travellers. + +Mrs. Derrick and supper were ready for them, and had been a good while; +and by this time Mr. Linden and Faith were ready for supper. And much +as Mrs. Derrick had to hear, she had something to tell. How Judge +Harrison had come to make a visit and say good-bye, and how he had put +in her hands another twenty-five dollars to be added to those his son +had already bestowed on Reuben. Squire Stoutenburgh too had been there; +but his errand was to declare that Jerry could never be received again +into his service, but must henceforth remain in Mrs. Derrick's stable +and possession. Altogether, the day even at home had been an exciting +one. + +A little time after supper Faith went into the sitting-room. Mr. Linden +was there alone. Faith came up to the back of his chair, laid a hand on +his shoulder, and bent her head into speaking neighbourhood. It may be +remarked, that though Faith no longer said "Mr. Linden," yet that one +other word of his name was _never_ spoken just like her other words. +There was always a little lowering or alteration of tone, a slight +pause before--or after it, which set and marked it as bordered round +with all the regards which by any phrase could be made known. + +"Endecott"--she said very softly,--"do you know what you have been +doing to-day?" + +"Comprehensively speaking--I have been enjoying myself," he said with a +bright smile at her. + +"You have been giving me a lesson all the while, that I felt through +and through." + +"Through and through?" he repeated. "Come round here, little bird--you +need not perch on the back of my chair. What are you singing about?" + +"Of what you have taught me to-day." + +"I must have fallen into a very unconscious habit of lesson-giving. +What have I taught you?--suppose you teach me." + +"How one should 'hold forth the word of life.'" + +"Ah little bird!"--he said, with a look at her which said his day's +lesson had been the same, yet on different grounds. "Well--if you can +learn anything from so imperfect a teacher, I am glad. But do not rest +there,--take up the olive leaf and bear it on!" + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + +Mrs Derrick went to Pequot the next day, and found Miss Danforth as +Faith had left her; or rather, somewhat more failing in everything but +mind-strength. Mrs. Derrick was greatly welcomed by both ladies; but +she had not been there three hours when Miss Dilly spoke out what was +on her heart. + +"Isn't Faith coming back to me again?" + +For Faith's sake her mother hesitated, and yet it was for Faith's sake +that she answered,--"Yes, if you want her." + +"It won't be for long I shall want her,"--said Miss Dilly with a +quietness very unlike her old self:--"but I would like to have her dear +face and music about me once more--if she can let me." + +Mrs. Derrick came back with Mr. Stoutenburgh to Pattaquasset that same +evening; and Faith put up her books and made immediate preparations for +going to Pequot in her stead. + +"I must let you go, child," said her mother,--"I couldn't refuse." + +"And I am so glad to-morrow is Wednesday, for I can take you over," +said Mr. Linden. + +Wednesday afternoon was very fair, and after dinner Faith and all her +needful baggage were bestowed in the little sleigh, and the journey +began. Not very much of a journey indeed, unless compared with the +length of day-light; but as fair and bright and pleasant as a journey +could be. Full of talk of all sorts,--gliding on through the fading day +and the falling night, until + + ----"the floor of heaven + Was thick inlaid with patines of bright gold." + + +Very bright the stars were, very dark the sky, when Jerry's bells began +to mingle with a crowd of others in the streets of Pequot. Faith had +insisted that Mr. Linden should come in and have a cup of tea or coffee +before he went back again; and this being a not unreasonable request, +besides a pleasant one, she had her way. + +Miss Danforth was in her room and could not see Mr. Linden. Faith with +a kiss and a word established the little Frenchwoman to talk to him, +obtaining leave to do what she pleased; though Madame Danforth managed +to have her share in the hospitality; got out cups and saucers for +Faith and Mr. Linden both on a little table by the fire,--her rolls and +her butter; talking all the while to him; and took a minute to run down +into the kitchen and see that Faith and the coffee-pot were getting on +properly. And it may be said in passing that the result did credit to +both. The coffee served to Mr. Linden was faultless. Madame Danforth +however had hardly presented him his cup, when she was called off and +her guests were left alone. + +"Faith," said Mr. Linden, "you must not forget that you have something +to do for me as well as for other people while you are here." + +"I don't forget it. But what do you mean, Endecott?" + +"To put it in the most effective way--I mean that you must take care of +me!" he said smiling. + +"I will. As good care as you would take of yourself." + +"That is a little ambiguous! But will you send me word very often of +your success?" + +Faith looked up and looked at him, a little startled. + +"Do you mean--" + +"I mean that there is a postoffice in Pattaquasset--and another in +Pequot." + +She coloured, and somewhat hastily busied herself with refilling Mr. +Linden's cup. Then she folded her hands and sat looking into the fire +with a face on which there was a touching expression of humbleness. + +"My little Mignonette," he said, "what are you thinking of?" + +"I am thinking of that,"--she said with a smile which did not change +the expression. "Of what you want me to do--and about it." + +"What about it? Are you inditing a letter to me on the spot?" + +"No." + +"What then?" + +Faith would have liked to have her face out of sight, but she couldn't, +conveniently. + +"I am thinking, how I shall do it--and how you will not like it." + +"_You_ don't know"--said Mr. Linden. "Let me tell you how I shall like +it. I shall read it, and love it, and answer it--will that satisfy you? +or do you want me to hang it round my neck by a blue ribband?--because +if you do, I will." + +The laughing flash of Faith's eye contained nevertheless a protest. + +"No, you will not like it, because it will not be fit for you to like; +but you will have patience with it,"--she said with a smile which did +in its loveliness bid good-bye to shadows. + +Mr. Linden left the table, and standing before her as she had risen +too, took her face softly in both hands and raised it up for his +inspection. + +"Do you know what a naughty child you are?" + +A most quaint little "yes." + +"Then why don't you behave better?" he said, enforcing his question but +not releasing her. + +"I suppose you will teach me, in time"--she said, blushing and +sparkling under his hands. He seemed to like to study her face--or was +thinking that he should not see it again for some time,--the expression +on his own belonged to more than one thing. + +"You must not make me wait for that letter, Faith," he said--"and I +must not let you keep me any longer here! But if you want anything, of +any sort, you must send to me." + +"Yes!--to you or to mother." + +"To me--if it is anything I can do," he said as he bade her good-bye. +"And take care of yourself, dear child, for me." And releasing her at +last, none too willingly, Mr. Linden went out alone into the starlight. +He did not see--nor guess--how Faith stood before the fire where he had +left her, looking down into it,--motionless and grave until Madame +Danforth came back. Then all that part of her life was shut up within +her, and Faith was again to other eyes what she had been before at +Pequot. Yet not so entirely the same, nor was all that part of her life +so entirely shut up to herself, that both her aunt and Madame Danforth +did not have a thought and exchange a word on the subject. + +"The sun has found the blossom!" said the little Frenchwoman knowingly +one day; "they do not open so without that!" + +"Nonsense!" said Miss Danforth. "I will ask her." But she never did. + +And for a little while again Faith filled her old office. Miss Dilly +had no troubles or darkness to clear away now; the Bible was plain +sailing to her; but she could never spread her sails too soon or too +full for that navigation. Early and late, as before, Faith read to her, +with a joy and gladness all brightened from the contrast of that Sunday +night's reading, and coming with a fuller spring since that one little +word of her mother the same night. Indeed the last few days had seemed +to make the Bible even greatly more precious to Faith than ever before. +She clung more fast, she searched more eagerly, among its treasures of +riches, to its pillars of strength; valuing them all, as it seemed to +her, with a new value, with a fresh knowledge of what might be found +and won there for others and herself. So with the very eagerness of +love Faith read the Bible to Miss Dilly; and so as she had done before, +many a time, early and late, in childlike simpleness prayed at her +bedside and by her chair. And as before when she was at Pequot she won +Madame Danforth's heart, she intrenched herself there now. She was all +over the house, carrying a sunbeam with her; but Faith never thought it +was her own. She was a most efficient maid of all work, for nursing and +too much care had worn poor Madame Danforth not a little. Faith was +upper servant and cook by turns; and sometimes went to market; made +every meal pleasant with her gentle happy ways; and comforted the two +old ladies to the very top of comfort. + +Whether she wanted to be at home or not, Faith did not stop to ask +herself. But those letters--those letters--they were written, and they +were carried to the postoffice--and others were found at the postoffice +in reply to them. And what had been such trial in the proposition, +became, even in the first instance, the joy of Faith's life. She wrote +hers how she could; generally at night, when she could be quite +uninterrupted and alone. It was often very late at night, but it was +always a time of rare pleasure and liberty of heart; for if the body +were tired, the spirit was free. And Faith's was particularly free, for +the manacles and fetters of pride which weigh so bitter heavy on many a +mind and life, her gentle and true spirit had let fall. She +knew--nobody better--that her letters were not like those letters of +Mr. Linden's sister, Pet:--those exquisite letters, where every grace +and every talent of a finely gifted and fully cultivated mind seemed +playing together with all the rich stores of the past and realities of +the present. She knew, that in very style and formalities of execution, +her own letters were imperfect and unformed. But she was equally sure +that in time what was wrong in this kind would be made right; and she +was not afraid to be found wrong, at all, for her own sake. It was +because of somebody else, that she had flinched from this writing +proposal; because she felt that what was wrong in _her_ touched him +now. But there again, Faith wrote, trusting with an absolute trust in +the heart and hand to which she sent her letters; willing to be found +wrong if need be; sure to be set right truly and gently. And so, Faith +wrote her own heart and life out, from day to day, giving Mr. Linden +precisely what he wanted, and with a child's fearlessness. It was a +great thing to go to the postoffice those days! Faith left it to nobody +else to do for her. And how strange--how weird, almost, the signature +of those letters and her own name on the outside looked to her, in the +same free, graceful handwriting which she had read on that little card +so long ago! And the letters themselves?--enough to say, that they made +Faith think of the way she had been sheltered from the wind, and +carried upstairs when her strength failed, and read to and talked to +and instructed,--that they made her long to be home and yet content to +be there; giving her all sorts of details, of things in Pattaquasset +and things elsewhere--just as the writer would have talked them to her; +with sometimes a word of counsel, or of caution, or of suggestion,--or +some old German hymn which she might find of use in her ministrations, +written out in full. It may be mentioned in passing, that the fair +little face he had been looking at, or her evident fear of writing to +him, made Mr. Linden write to her that very night; a little sugarplum +of a letter, which Faith had for her dinner next day. + +And Faith read these letters at all sorts of times, and thought of them +at other times; and made them next to her Bible--as she should. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +Two weeks passed quietly, without much apparent change in Miss +Danforth; and Faith was beginning to think of appointing a time to go +home. But the necessity for that was suddenly superseded. The Friday +following, Miss Dilly took a change for the worse, and Saturday she +died. Faith sent off tidings immediately to Pattaquasset; but her +letter could not reach there till Monday; and Monday came a very great +fall of snow which made travelling impossible. Faith waited patiently, +comforting Madame Danforth as she might, and endeavouring to win her to +some notion of that joy in the things of the Bible in which Miss Dilly +had lived and died. For no change had come over Miss Dilly's sky; and +she had set sail from the shores of earth in the very sunlight. + +It fell out, that Faith's letter of Saturday afternoon had been five +minutes too late for the mail; and after lying in the office at Pequot +over Sunday, had been again subjected to the delays of Monday's storm, +which in its wild fury put a stop to everything else; and thus, when +Mr. Linden went to the office Tuesday morning before school time, the +mail had not yet got in. Not long after, however, Mr. Skip brought home +the letters; and Mrs. Derrick reading hers, at once took Mr. Skip and +Jerry and set off for Pequot; minding neither snowdrifts nor driving +wind, when the road to Faith lay through them, and arriving there quite +safe about the hour of midday. + +The delayed funeral took place the same afternoon. And the next +morning, in a brilliant cold day, snow all over the ground and the sky +all blue, the mother and daughter set forth homewards. Madame Danforth +was going to take another relation in, and live on still in the little +house where she and her sister-in-law had made a happy home for so many +years. Miss Danforth had left a few hundreds, three or four, to Faith. +It was all she had owned in the world; her principal living having been +an annuity settled upon her by her brother, which reverted to Madame +Danforth. + +It was about mid-afternoon when they reached home, and of course the +house held no one but Cindy; except indeed that sort of invisible +presence which books and other inanimate things make known; and Cindy +had to tell of two or three visiters, but otherwise nothing. Very fair +it all looked to Faith,--very sweet to her ear was the sound of the +village clock, although as yet it was only striking three. She did not +say much about the matter. A gleeful announcement that she was glad to +be at home, she made to Mrs. Derrick; but after that she expressed +herself in action. One of her first moves was to the kitchen, +determined that there should be a double consciousness of her being at +home when supper-time came. Then books were got out, and fires put in +wonderful order. Mr. Linden might guess, from the state in which he +found his room, that it had come under its old rule. No such fire had +greeted him there for weeks; no such brushed-up clean hearth; no such +delicate arrangement of table and chairs and curtains and couch. But +the fire burned quietly and told no tales, otherwise than by its very +orderly snapping and sparkling. + +And indeed it so happened, that Mr. Linden went first into the +sitting-room,--partly to see if any one was there, partly because the +day was cold, and under Cindy's management there was small reason to +suppose that his room was warm. And once there, the easy-chair reminded +him so strongly that he was tired, that he even sat down in it before +going upstairs,--which combination a long walk through the snowdrifts +since school, made very acceptable. Five minutes after, Faith having +got rid of her kitchen apron, opened softly the door of the +sitting-room. She stopped an instant, and then came forward, her +gladness not at all veiled by a very rosy veil of shy modesty. There +was no stay in his step to meet her,--he had sprung up with the first +sound of her foot on the threshold; and how much she had been missed +and longed for Faith might guess, from the glad silence in which she +was held fast and for a minute not allowed to speak herself. So very +glad!--she could see it and feel it exceedingly as he brought her +forward to the fire, and lifted up her face, and looked at it with eyes +that were not easily satisfied. + +"My little Sunbeam," he said, "how lovely you are!" + +She had been laughing and flushing with a joy almost as frankly shewn +as his own; but that brought a change over her face. The eyes fell, and +the line of the lips was unbent after a different fashion. + +"I don't know what it is like to see you again," Mr. Linden said as his +own touched them once more,--"like any amount of balm and rest and +refreshment! How long have you been here, dear child? and how do you +do?--and have you any idea how glad I am to have you home?" + +She answered partly in dumb show, clasping one hand upon his shoulder +and laying down her head upon it. Her words were very quiet and +low-spoken. + +"We came home a while ago--and I am very well." Mr. Linden rested his +face lightly upon her shining hair, and was silent--till Faith +wondered; little guessing what thoughts the absence and the meeting and +above all her mute expression, had stirred; nor what bitterness was +wrapped in those sweet minutes. But he put it aside, and then took the +sweetness pure and unmixed; giving her about as much sunshine as he +said she gave him. + +"How do you like writing to me, Faith?" he said. "Am I, on the whole, +any more terrific at a distance than near by?" + +"I didn't know you could be so good at a distance,"--she said +expressively. + +"Did you find out what reception your letters met?" + +"I didn't want to find out." + +"Do you call that an answer?" he said smiling. "Why didn't you want to +find out?--and _did_ you?" + +"Why!"--said Faith,--"I didn't want to find out because it wasn't +necessary. I _did_ find out that I liked to write. But you wouldn't +have liked it if you had known what time of night it was, often." + +"What do you think of taking up a new study?" said Mr. Linden. "It +strikes me that it would do you good to stand in the witness-box half +an hour every day,--just for practice. Faith--did you find out what +reception your letters met?" + +"I knew before--" she said, meeting his eyes. + +"Did you!--then what made you assure me I should not like them?" + +"I don't think you did, Endecott--the parts of them that you oughtn't +to have liked." + +"Truly I think not!" he said laughing. "You are on safe ground there, +little Mignonette. But speaking of letters--do you want more tidings +from Italy?" + +"O yes I if you please. Are they good? And has all been good here with +you and the school since I have been away?" + +"Yes, they are good,--my sister--and yours--is enjoying herself +reasonably. And the boys have been good,--and I--have wanted my +Mignonette." + +One word in that speech brought a soft play of colour to Faith's face, +but her words did not touch that point. + +The days went on very quietly after that, and the weeks +followed,--quietly, regularly, full of business and pleasure. Quick +steps were made in many things during those weeks, little interrupted +by the rest of Pattaquasset, some of the most stirring people of that +town being away. An occasional tea-drinking did steal an evening now +and then, but also furnished the before and after walk or ride, and so +on the whole did little mischief; and as Faith was now sometimes taken +on Mr. Linden's visits to another range of society, she saw more of him +than ever; and daily learned more and more--not only of him, but of his +care for her. His voice--never indeed harsh to any one--took its +gentlest tones to her; his eye its softest and deepest lustre: no +matter how tired he came home--the first sight of her seemed to banish +all thought of fatigue. Faith could feel that she was the very delight +of his life. Indeed, by degrees, she began to understand that she had +long been so--only there had once been a qualification,--now, the +sunshine of his happiness had nothing to check its expression, or its +endeavour to make her life as bright. That he took "continual comfort" +in her, Faith could see. + +And--child!--he did not see what this consciousness spurred her to do; +how the strength of her heart spent itself--yet was never spent--in +efforts to grow and become more worthy of him and more fit for him to +take comfort in. The days were short, and Faith's household duties not +few, especially in the severe weather, when she could not let her +mother be tried with efforts which in summer-time might be easy and +pleasant enough. A good piece of every day was of necessity spent by +Faith about house and in the kitchen, and faithfully given to its work. +But her heart spurred her on to get knowledge. The times when Mr. +Linden was out of school could rarely be study times, except of study +with him; and to be prepared for him Faith was eager. She took times +that were hers all alone. Nobody heard her noiseless footfall in the +early morning down the stair. Long before it was light,--hours before +the sun thought of shewing his face to the white Mong and the snowy +houseroofs of Pattaquasset, Faith lighted her fire in the sitting-room, +and her lamp on the table; and after what in the first place was often +a good while with her Bible, she bent herself to the deep earnest +absorbed pressing into the studies she was pursuing with Mr. Linden--or +such of them as the morning had time for. Faith could not lengthen the +day at the other end; to prevent the sun was her only chance; and day +after day and week after week, through the short days of February, she +had done solid work and a deal of it before anybody in the house saw +her face in the kitchen or at breakfast. They saw it then as bright as +ever. Mr. Linden only knew that his scholar made very swift and smooth +progress. He would have known more, for Faith would have shewn the +effects of her early hours of work in her looks and life the rest of +the day, but happiness is strong; and a mind absolutely at peace with +God and the world has a great rest! Friction is said to be one of the +notable hindering powers in the world of matter--it is equally true, +perhaps, of the world of spirit. Without it, in either sphere, how +softly and with how little wear and tear, everything moves! And Faith's +life knew none. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +It was near the end of February,--rather late in the afternoon of a by +no means balmy day, in the course of which Dr. Harrison had arrived to +look after his repairs. But the workmen had stopped work and gone home +to supper, and the doctor and his late dinner sat together. Luxuriously +enough, on the doctor's part, for the dinner was good and well cooked, +the bottles of wine irreproachable (as wine) in their silver stands, +the little group of different coloured glasses shining in the +firelight. The doctor's fingerbowl and napkin stood at hand, (at this +stage of the proceeding) his half-pared apple was clearly worth the +trouble, and he himself--between the fire and his easy-chair--might be +said to be "in the lap of comfort." Comfort rarely did much for him but +take him on her lap, however--he seldom stayed there; and on the +present occasion the doctor's eyes were very wide open and his thoughts +at work. It might be presumed that neither process was cut short, when +the old black man opened the door and announced Mr. Linden. + +But if Mr. Linden could have seen the doctor's face just before, he +might have supposed that his entrance had produced rather a sedative +effect. For the brow smoothed itself down, the eye took its light play +and the mouth its light smile, and the doctor's advance to meet his +friend was marked with all its graceful and easy unconcern. He did not +even seem energetic enough to be very glad; for grace and carelessness +still blended in his welcome and in his hospitable attentions, nothing +of which however was failing. He had presently made Mr. Linden as +comfortable as himself, so far as possible outward appliances could be +effectual; established him at a good side of the table; Burnished him +with fruit and pressed him with wine; and then sitting at ease at his +own corner, sipped his claret daintily, eyeing Mr. Linden good +humouredly between sips; but apparently too happily on good terms with +comfort to be in any wise eager or anxious as to what Mr. Linden's +business might be, or whether he had any. + +"Has the news of my arrival flown over Pattaquasset already?" said he. +"I thought I had seen nothing but frieze jackets, and friezes of broken +plaster--and I have certainly felt so much of another kind of _freeze_ +that I should hardly think even news could have stirred." + +Mr. Linden's reception of the doctor's hospitality had been merely +nominal--except so far as face and voice had the receiving, and he +answered quietly-- + +"I don't know. I happened to want you, doctor, and so I found out that +you were here." + +"Want me? I am very glad to be wanted by you--so that it be not _for_ +you. What is it, my dear Linden?" + +"No--you will not be glad," said Mr. Linden,--"though it is both for me +and not for me. I want you to go with me to see one of my little +scholars who is sick." + +"Who is he?" + +"One whom you have seen but will not remember,--Johnny Fax." + +"Fax--" said the doctor--"I remember the name, but no particular owner +of it. What's the matter with him?" + +"I want you to come and see." + +"Now?"-- + +"As near that as may be." + +"Now it shall be, then; though with such a February night on one side, +it takes all your power on the other to draw me out of this chair. You +don't look much like Comedy, and I am very little like the great +buskin-wearer--but I would as lieve Tragedy had me by the other +shoulder as February, when his fingers have been so very long away from +the fire. Did you ever read Thomson's 'Castle of Indolence,' Linden?" + +"Not to much purpose--the name is all I remember." + +"Stupid book,"--said the doctor;--"but a delightful place!" + +The luxury of broadcloth and furs in which the doctor was presently +involved might have rendered him reasonably independent, one would +think, of February or any other of Jack Frost's band. Jerry was at the +door, and involving themselves still further in buffalo robes the two +gentle men drove to the somewhat distant farm settlement which called +Jonathan Fax master. Mr. Fax was a well-to-do member of the +Pattaquasset community, as far as means went; there was very little +knowledge in his house how to make use of means. Nor many people to +make use of the knowledge. The one feminine member of the family had +lately married and gone off to take care of her own concerns, and +Jonathan and his one other child lived on as best they might; the child +being dependant upon the maid of all work for his clothes and +breakfast, for his Sunday lessons upon Faith, for the weekday teaching +and comfort of his little life upon Mr. Linden. Living along in this +somewhat divided way, the child had suddenly taken sick--no one just +knew how; nor just what to do with him--except to send Mr. Linden word +by one of the other boys, which had been done that afternoon. And thus +it was, that Dr. Harrison had been looked for, found, and drawn out +into the February night with only the slight protection of furs and +broadcloth. + +Thus it was that after a short and rather silent drive, the two +gentlemen went together into the last-century sort of a house, received +the angular welcome of Jonathan Fax, and stood side by side by the bed +where the sick child lay. Side by side--with what different faces! A +difference which Johnny was quick to recognize. He lay on the bed, +wrapped in a little old plaid cloak, and with cheeks which rivalled its +one remaining bright colour; and half unclosing his heavy eyes to see +the doctor, he stretched out his arms to Mr. Linden, clasping them +round his neck as his friend sat down on the bedside and gently lifted +him up, and receiving the kiss on his flushed cheek with a little +parting of the lips which said how glad he was. But then he lay quite +still in Mr. Linden's arms. + +Whatever attractions the Castle of Indolence might have for Dr. +Harrison upon occasion, he never seemed so much as to look that way +when he was at his work. Now, it made no difference that _he_ was no +friend of Johnny's; he gave his attention thoroughly and with all his +skill to the condition and wants of his little patient. + +"Is there nobody to take care of him?" he asked in French, for Jonathan +Fax with his square and by no means delicate and tender physiognomy +stood at the other side of the bed heavily looking on. + +"I shall, to-night," said Mr. Linden. "You may give me your directions." + +The doctor proceeded to do this; but added, "He wants care and good +nursing; and he'll suffer if he don't have it. He is a sick child." + +"He shall have it," was all the answer; and when the doctor had +finished his work for the time, Mr. Linden laid the child on the bed +again, giving him a whispered promise to come back and stay with him +all night; upon the strength of which promise Johnny fell into a deep +sleep. + +"Has the creature nobody to take care of him?" said the doctor as they +went out. + +"Nobody at home." + +"I shall be here a day or two, Linden--I'll see him early in the +morning again." + +Mr. Linden's next move through the biting air was to drive home. At the +door of the sitting-room Faith met him. + +"Endecott--how is he?" + +"Less well than I expected to find him, dear Faith. I found Dr. +Harrison and took him there with me." + +"And what did Dr. Harrison say of him?" + +"That he wanted good care and nursing." + +"And who is there to give it to him, Endy?" she said with a very +saddened and earnest face. + +"Why I shall give it to him to-night, my child, and we'll see about +to-morrow. The doctor promised to go there again in the morning." + +She stood a moment silent, and then said, "I'll go with you." + +"Not to-night, dear--it is not needful. He will not want more than one +watcher." + +"But he might want something else--something to be done that a woman +about the house might be wanted for--let me go too!--" + +"No indeed! you must go to sleep. And he will hardly want anything but +what I can give him to-night. I know well what your little hands are in +a sick room," he said taking them in his own,--"I know well!--but they +are not made of iron--nor are you." + +Faith looked ill satisfied. + +"Well, you'll not hinder my taking your place by him to-morrow, Endy?" + +"If I can," Mr. Linden said, "I shall come home to breakfast, and then +I may know what you had better do; but if I should be detained there, +and so not get here till midday, wait for me--I should not like to have +you go without seeing me again; and I can leave Reuben there for the +morning if need be." + +"Oh Endecott!--" she said with a heart full; but she said no more and +ran away. She came back soon to call Mr. Linden to tea, which had +waited; and after tea when he was about going she put a basket in his +hand. + +"I hope Mr. Fax has wood in his house, so that you can keep a +fire,--but you are not likely to find anything else there. You'll want +everything that is in this, Endy--please remember." + +"I will not forget," he said, as he gave her his thanks. "But what did +that exclamation mean, before tea?" + +"What exclamation?--Oh--" said Faith, smiling somewhat but looking +down, "I suppose it meant that I was disappointed." + +"My dear little child--you must try not to feel disappointed, because I +am quite sure you ought not to go; and that must content both you and +me. So good night."-- + +Faith tried to be contented, but her little scholar lay on her heart. +And it lay on her heart too, that Mr. Linden would be watching all +night and teaching all day. He did not know how much he had +disappointed, for she had laid a fine plan to go by starlight in the +morning to take his place and send him home for a little rest before +breakfast and school. Faith studied only one book that night, and that +was her Bible. + +It was a night of steady watching,--broken by many other things, but +not by sleep. There was constantly some little thing to do for the sick +child,--ranging from giving him a drink of water, to giving him "talk," +or rocking and--it might be--singing him to sleep. But the restless +little requests never had to wait for their answer, and with the whole +house sunk in stillness or sleep, Mr. Linden played the part of a most +gentle and efficient nurse--and thought of Faith, and her +disappointment. And so the night wore away, and the morning star came +up, and then the red flushes of sunrise. + +"Who turneth the night into day"--Mr. Linden thought, with a grave look +from the window to the little face beside him--and then the words +came,-- + + "In the morning, children, in the morning; + We'll all rise together in the morning!" + + +It was very early indeed, earlier even than usual, when Faith came down +and kindled her fire. And then leaving it to burn, she opened the +curtains of the window and looked out into the starlight. It was long +before the red flush of the morning; it was even before the time when +Faith would have gone to relieve the guard in that sick room; her +thoughts sped away to the distant watcher there and the sick child. +Faith could guess what sort of a watching it had been, and it was a +comfort to think that Johnny had it. But then as she looked out into +the clear still starlight, something brought up the question, what if +Johnny should die?--It was overwhelming to Faith for a minute; her +little scholar's loveliness had got fast hold of her heart; and she +loved him for deep and far-back associations too. She could not bear to +think that it might be. Yet she asked herself if this was a reasonable +feeling? Why should she be sorry--if it were so--that this little +blossom of Heaven should have an early transplanting thither? Ah, the +fragrance of such Heaven-flowers is too sweet to be missed, and Earth +wants them. As Faith looked sadly out into the night, watched the +eternal procession of bright stars, and heard the low sweep of the +wind, the words came to her,--separated from their context and from +everything else as it seemed,--"I, the Lord, do all these things." Her +mind as instantly gave a glad assent and rested itself in them. Not +seen by her or by mortal the place or fitting of any change or turn of +earthly things, in the great plan,--every one such turn and change had +its place, as sure as the post of each star in the sky--as true to its +commission as that wind, which came from no one knew where to go no one +knew whither. Faith looked and listened, and took the lesson deep down +in her heart. + +Mr. Linden's little basket had stood him well in stead that long +night,--for Faith had said truth; nothing was for him in Mr. Fax's +house. Mr. Fax was well enough satisfied that Johnny's teacher should +take the trouble of nursing the child, had no idea that such trouble +would necessarily involve much loss of sleep, and still further no +notion of the fact that a watcher at night needs food as much as fire. +Fire Mr. Linden had, but he would have been worse off without the +stores he found in his basket. In truth the supply generally was +sufficient to have kept him from starving even if he had been obliged +to go without his breakfast; but Dr. Harrison concerned himself about +his little patient, and was better than Mr. Linden's hopes. He came, +though in the cold short February morning, a good while before eight +o'clock. He gave Mr. Linden a pleasant clasp of the hand; and then made +his observations in silence. + +"Is this one of your favourites?" he said at length. + +A grave "yes." + +"I am sorry for it." + +Mr. Linden was silent at first, looking down at the child with a sort +of expression the doctor had not often seen, and when he spoke it was +without raising his eyes. + +"Tell me more particularly." + +"I don't know myself,"--said the doctor with a frankness startling in +one of his profession; but Dr. Harrison's characteristic carelessness +nowhere made itself more apparent than in his words and about what +people might think of them.--"I don't say anything _certainly_--but I +do not like appearances." + +"What is the matter?" + +"It's an indefinite sort of attack--all the worse for that!--the root +of which is hid from me. All you can do is to watch and wait. Have you +been here through the night?" + +"Yes," Mr. Linden answered--and put the further question, "Do you think +there is any danger of contagion?" + +"O no!--the fever, what there is, comes from some inward cause--a +complicated one, I judge. I can guess, and that's all. Are there no +women about the house?" + +"None that are good for much." And looking at his watch, Mr. Linden +laid the child--who had fallen asleep again--out of his arms among the +pillows, arranging them softly and dextrously as if he were used to the +business. + +"Reuben Taylor will stay with him for the present," he said as he +turned to Dr. Harrison. + +"I'll come again by and by," the doctor said. "Meanwhile all that can +be done is to let him have this, as I told you." + +The directions were given to Reuben, the doctor drove off, and Mr. +Linden set out on his quick walk home; after the confinement of the +night, the cold morning air and exercise were rather resting than +otherwise. It was a very thoughtful half hour--very sorrowful at first; +but before he reached home, thought, and almost feeling, had got beyond +"the narrow bounds of time," and were resting peacefully--even +joyfully--"where bright celestial ages roll." + +He entered the house with a light step, and went first upstairs to +change his dress; but when he came down and entered the sitting-room, +there was the tone of the whole walk upon his face still. Faith put her +question softly, as if she expected no glad answer. And yet it was +partly that, though given in very gentle, grave tones. + +"There is more to fear than to hope, dear Faith,--and there is +everything to hope, and nothing to fear!" + +She turned away to the breakfast-table; and said little more till the +meal was over. Then she rose when he did. + +"I am going now, Endy!"--The tone was of very earnest determination, +that yet waited for sanction. + +"Yes," he answered--"Dr. Harrison says the fever is not contagious, I +waited to know that. If I can I shall get free before midday, so I may +meet you there. And can you prepare and take with you two or three +things?"--he told her what. + +Faith set about them; and when they were done, Mr. Skip had finished +his breakfast and got Jerry ready. Some other preparations Faith had +made beforehand; and with no delay now she was on her swift way to +little Johnny's bedside. She came in like a vision of comfort upon the +sick room, with all sorts of freshness about her; grasped Reuben's +hand, and throwing back her hood, stooped her lips to Johnny's cheek. +And Johnny gave her his usual little fair smile--and then his eyes went +off to the doorway, as if he half expected to see some one else behind +her. But it was from no want of love to _her_, as she knew from the way +the eyes came back to her face and rested there, and took a sort of +pleased survey of her hood and, her fur and her dress. + +"Dear Johnny!--Can you speak to me?" said Faith tenderly touching her +cheek again to his. + +"Oh yes, ma'am," he said, in a quiet voice and with the same bit of a +smile. That was what Faith wanted. Then she looked up. + +"Are you going to school now, Reuben?" + +"I didn't expect to this morning, Miss Faith," Reuben said with a sober +glance at his little comrade. + +"Then you can wait here a bit for me." + +Leaving Reuben once more in charge, Faith went on a rummaging +expedition over the house to find some woman inmate. Not too easily or +speedily she was found at last, the housekeeper and all-work woman deep +in _all work_ as she really seemed, and in an outer kitchen of remote +business, whither Faith had traced her by an exercise of determinate +patience and skill. Having got so fur, Faith was not balked in the +rest; and obtaining from her some of Johnny's clean linen which she +persuaded her to go in search of, she returned to the room where she +had left Reuben; and set about making the sick child as comfortable as +in his sickness he could be. + +It was a day or two already since Johnny had lain there and had had +little effectual attention from anybody, till Mr. Linden came last +night. The child might well look at his new nurse, for her neat dress +and gentle face and soft movements were alone a balm for any sick +place. And in her quiet way, Faith set about changing the look of this +one. There was plenty of wood, and she made a glorious fire. Then +tenderly and dextrously she managed to get a fresh nightgown on Johnny +without disturbing him more than pleasantly with her soft +manipulations; and wrapping him in a nice little old doublegown which +she had brought with her and which had been a friend of her own +childish days, Faith gave him to Reuben to hold while she made up the +bed and changed the clothes, the means for which she had also won from +the housekeeper. Then having let down the chintz curtains to shield off +the intense glare of the sunny snow, Faith assumed Johnny into her own +arms. She had brought vinegar from home, and with it bathed the little +boy's face and hands and brushed his hair, till the refreshed little +head lay upon her breast in soothed rest and comfort. + +"There, Johnny!"--she whispered as her lips touched his brow,--"Mr. +Linden may come as soon as he pleases--we are ready for him!" + +The child half unclosed his eyes at the words, and then sunk again into +one of his fits of feverish sleep, the colour rising in his cheeks a +little, the breath coming quick. Reuben knelt down at Faith's side and +watched him. + +"I used to wonder, Miss Faith," he said softly, "what would become of +him if Mr. Linden ever went away"--and the quiet pause told what +provision Reuben thought was fast coming for any such contingency. + +"You can't think what Mr. Linden's been to Johnny, Miss Faith," he went +on in the same low voice,--"and to all of us," he added lower still. +"But he's taken such care of him, in school and out. It was only last +week Johnny told me he liked coming to school in the winter, because +then Mr. Linden always went home with him. And whenever he could get in +Mr. Linden's lap he was perfectly happy. And Mr. Linden would let him, +sometimes, even in school, because Johnny was so little and not very +strong,--and he'd let him sit in his lap and go to sleep for a little +while when he got tired, and then Johnny would go back to his lessons +as bright as a bee. That was the way he did the very first day school +was opened, for Johnny was frightened at first, and a mind to cry--he'd +never had anybody to take much care of him. And Mr. Linden just called +him and took him up and spoke to him--and Johnny laid his head right +down and went to sleep; and he's loved Mr. Linden with all his heart +ever since. I know we all laughed--and he smiled himself, but it made +all the rest of us love him too." + +Reuben had gone on talking, softly, as if he felt sure of sympathy in +all he might say on the subject. But that "first day school was +opened!"--how Faith's thoughts sprang back there,--with what strange, +mixed memories the vision of it came up before her! That day and time +when so many new threads were introduced into her life, which were now +shewing their colours and working out their various patterns. It was +only a spring there and back again, however, that her thoughts took; or +rather the vision was a sort of background to Reuben's delineations, +and her eye was upon these; with what kind of sympathy she did not care +to let him see. Her cheek was bent down to the sick child's head and +Faith's face was half hidden. Until a moment later, when the door +opened and Johnny's father came in to see what was become of him; and +then Mr. Fax had no clue to the lustrous softness of the eyes that +looked up at him. He could make nothing of it. + +"What!" said he. "Why who's Johnny got to look after him now?" + +"I am his teacher, sir." + +"His teacher, be you? Seems to me he's a lot of 'em. One teacher stayed +with him last night. How many has he got, among you?" + +"Only two--" said Faith, rejoicing that she was _one_. "I am his Sunday +school teacher." + +"Well what's your name, now?" + +"Faith Derrick." + +"_That's_ who you be!" said Mr. Fax in surprise. "Don't say! Well +Johnny's got into good hands, aint he? How's he gettin' along?" + +Faith's eye went down to the little boy, and her hand passed slowly and +tenderly over his hair; she was at a loss how to answer, and Reuben +spoke for her. + +"He's been sleeping a good deal this morning." + +The father stooped towards the child, but his look went from him to +Faith, with a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness as he spoke. + +"Sleepin', is he?--Then I guess he's gettin' along first-rate--aint he?" + +Again Faith's look astonished the man, both because of its intent soft +beauty and the trembling set of her lip. But how to answer him she did +not know. Her head sunk over the child's brow as she exclaimed, + +"His dear Master knows what to do with him!" + +Jonathan Fax stood up straight and looked at Reuben. + +"What does she mean!" + +"She means that he is in God's hands, and that we don't know yet what +He will do," Reuben answered with clear simplicity. + +Yet it was a strange view of the subject to Mr. Fax; and he stood stiff +and angular and square, looking down at Faith and her charge, feeling +startled and strange. Her face was bent so that he could not see that +quiver of her lip now; but he did see one or two drops fall from the +lowered eyelids on Johnny's hair. Perhaps he would have asked more +questions, but he did not; something kept them back. He stood fixed, +with gathering soberness growing over his features. Little he guessed +that those tears had been half wrung from Faith's eyes by the contrast +between his happy little child and him. It was with something like a +groan at last that he turned away, merely bidding Reuben Taylor to call +for anything that was wanted. + +The morning wore on softly, for Johnny still slept. Reuben went quietly +about, giving attention where it was needed; to the fire, or to the +curtains--drawn back now as the sun got round--or bringing Faith a +footstool, or trying some other little thing for her comfort; and when +he was not wanted remaining in absolute stillness. As it neared midday, +however, he took his stand by the window, and after a short watch there +suddenly turned and left the room. And a moment after Mr. Linden came +in. + +Faith met him with a look of grave, sweet quiet; in which was mingled a +certain joy at being where she was. She waited for him to speak. But +something in her face, or her office, moved him,--the gravity of his +own look deepened as he came forward--his words were not ready. He sat +down by her, resting his arm on the back of her chair and giving her +and Johnny the same salutation--the last too softly to rouse him. + +"Has the doctor been here?" he said first. + +"No." + +He was silent again for a minute, but then Johnny suddenly started +up--waking perhaps out of some fever dream; for he seemed frightened +and bewildered, and almost ready to cry; turning his head uneasily away +from everything and everybody as it seemed, until his eyes were fairly +open, and then giving almost a spring out of Faith's arms into those of +Mr. Linden; holding him round the neck and breathing little sobbing +breaths on his shoulder, till the resting-place had done its +work,--till Mr. Linden's soft whispered words had given him comfort. +But it was a little wearily then that he said, "Sing." + +Was it wearily that the song was given? Faith could not tell,--she +could not name those different notes in the voice, she could only feel +that the octave reached from earth to heaven. + + "'How kind is Jesus, Lord of all! + To hear my little feeble call. + How kind is Jesus, thus to be + Physician, Saviour, all to me! + + 'How much he loves me he doth shew; + How much he loves I cannot know. + I'm glad my life is his to keep, + Then he will watch and I may sleep. + + 'Jesus on earth, while here I lie; + Jesus in heaven, if I die: + I'm safe and happy in his care, + His love will keep me, here or there. + + 'An angel he may send for me, + And then an angel I shall be. + Lord Jesus, through thy love divine, + Thy little child is ever thine.'" + + +Faith had drawn her chair a little back and with her head leaning on +the back of Mr. Linden's chair, listened--in a spirit not very +different from Johnny's own. She looked up then when it was done, with +almost as childlike a brow. It had quieted him, as with a charm, and +the little smile he gave Faith was almost wondering why she looked +grave. + +"You've been here a good while," he said, as if the mere announcement +of the fact spoke his thanks. + +"Has she?" Mr. Linden said. "What has Miss Faith done with you, Johnny, +if she has been here a good while?" + +"All sorts of things," Johnny answered, with another comprehensive +expression of gratitude. + +"I thought so!" said Mr. Linden. "I shouldn't wonder a bit if she had +dressed you up in something she used to wear herself." + +"She wasn't ever so little," the child said softly. + +Faith had been preparing for him a cup of some light nourishment which +he was to take from time to time, and now coming to Mr. Linden's side +kneeled down there before Johnny to give it to him. The child took the +delicate spoonfuls as she gave them, turning his fair eyes from her to +Mr. Linden as if he felt in a very sweet atmosphere of love and care; +and when she went away with the cup he said in his slow fashion, + +"I love her very much." + +And Faith heard the answer-- + +"And so do I." + +Coming up behind Mr. Linden she laid her hand on his shoulder. + +"Endecott--where are you going to take dinner and rest to-day?" + +"O I will take rest by the way," he answered lightly, and with a smile +at her. "There is dinner enough in my supper basket--I have not much +time for it, neither." + +"School again this afternoon?" + +"Yes I must be there for awhile." + +Faith moved away, remarking in a different tone, "Your supper basket is +at home, sir!"--and busied her energies about serving him as she had +just served Johnny. With something more substantial however. Faith had +brought a lunch basket, and in five minutes had made Mr. Linden a cup +of home tea. + +"Now how shall we manage?" she said;--"for Johnny must have you every +minute while you are here--and there is no such thing as a little +table. I shall have to be table and dumb waiter for you--if you won't +mind." + +And so Faith pulled up her chair again and sat down, with the basket +open on her lap and Mr. Linden's cup in her hand. + +"I only hope," she said, "that Dr. Harrison will not choose this +particular minute to come in! If he does, catch the cup of tea, +Endecott!--for I won't answer for anything." + +"I don't know whether I should be most sorry or proud, in case of such +event," said Mr. Linden,--"however, I do not wish the doctor anything +so disagreeable. But I will promise to catch the cup of tea--and +everything else, down to his displeasure. Only you must not be a _dumb_ +waiter; for that will not suit me at all." + +It was one of those pretty bits of sunshine that sometimes shew +themselves in the midst of a very unpromising day, the time when they +sat there with the lunch basket between them. The refreshment of talk +and of lunch (for lunch _is_ refreshing when it is needed) brightened +both faces and voices; and Mr. Linden's little charge, in one of his +turns of happy rest and ease, watched them--amused and interested--till +he fell asleep. By that time Mr. Linden's spare minutes were about +over. As he was laying Johnny gently down on the bed, Faith seized her +chance. + +"You'll let me stay here to-night--won't you, Endecott?" + +"It would not be good for you, dear child,--if you stay until night it +will be quite as much as you ought to do. But I will see you again by +that time." + +"I am strong, Endecott." + +"Yes, you are strong, little Sunbeam," he said, turning now to her and +taking both her hands,--"and yet it is a sort of strength I must guard. +Even sunbeams must not be always on duty. But we'll see about it when I +come back." + +Mr. Linden went off to his other sphere of action, and soon after +Reuben came softly in, just to let Faith know that he was at hand if +she wanted anything, and to offer to take her place. + +"Reuben!" said Faith suddenly, "have you had any dinner?" + +"O yes, ma'am--enough," Reuben said with a smile. "I brought something +with me this morning." + +Faith put her lunch basket into his hand, but her words were cut short; +for she saw Dr. Harrison just coming to the house. She moved away and +stood gravely by the fire. + +The doctor came in pulling off his glove. He gave his hand to Faith +with evident pleasure, but with a frank free pleasure, that had nothing +embarrassing about the manner of it; except the indication of its +depth. After a few words given with as easy an intonation as if the +thermometer were not just a few degrees above zero outside where he had +come from, the doctor's eye went over to the other person in the room; +and then the doctor himself crossed over and offered his hand. + +"I shall never see you, Reuben,"--said he with a very pleasant +recollective play of eye and lip,--"without thinking of a _friend_." + +The doctor had a more full view of Reuben's eyes, thereupon, than he +had ever before been favoured with,--for one moment their clear, true, +earnest expression met his. But whatever the boy read--or tried to +read--or did not read, he answered simply, as he looked away again, + +"You have been that to me, sir." + +"I don't know--" said the doctor lightly. "I am afraid not according to +your friend. Mr. Linden's definition. But reckon me such a one as I +_can_ be, will you?"--He turned away without waiting for the answer and +went back to Faith. + +"Do you know," he said, "I expected to find you here?" + +"Very naturally," said Faith quietly. + +"Yes--it is according to my experience. Now how is this child?"-- + +He turned to see, and so did Faith. He looked at the child, while +Faith's eye went from Johnny to him. Both faces were grave, but Faith's +grew more grave as she looked. + +"How is this child?" she repeated. + +"He is not worse," said the doctor; "except that not to be better is to +be worse. Are you particularly interested in him?" + +Faith looked down at the sweet pure little face, and for a minute or +two was very still. She did not even think of answering the doctor, nor +dare speak words at all. Her first movement was to push away softly a +lock of hair from Johnny's forehead. + +"What can I do for him, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Not much just now--go on as you have been doing. I will be here +to-night again, and then perhaps I shall know more." + +He gave her a new medicine for him however; and having said all that +was needful on that score, came back with her to the fire and stood a +little while talking--just so long as it would do for him to stay with +any chance of its being acceptable; talking in a tone that did not jar +with the place or the time, gravely and pleasantly, of some matters of +interest; and then he went. And Faith sat down by the bedside, and +forgot Dr. Harrison; and thought of the Sunday school in the woods that +evening in October, and the hymn, "I want to be an angel"; and looked +at Johnny with a very full heart. + +Not a very long time had passed, when Faith heard sleigh bells again, +and a person very different from the doctor came softly in; even Mrs. +Derrick. She smiled at Reuben and Faith, and going close up to the bed +folded her hands quietly together and stood looking at the sick child; +the smile vanishing from her face, her lips taking a tender, pitiful +set--her eyes in their experience gravely reading the signs. She looked +for a few minutes in silence, then with a little sorrowful sigh she +turned to Faith. + + +"Pretty child," she said, "can't you take a little rest? I'll sit by +him now." + +"O mother I'm not tired--much. I have not been very busy." + +Mrs. Derrick however took the matter into her own hands, and did not +content herself till she had Faith on a low seat at her side, and +Faith's head on her lap; which was a rest, to mind and body both. +Reuben replenished the fire and went out, and the two sat alone. + +"Faith," her mother said softly, "don't you think he'd be content with +me to-night? I can't bear to have Mr. Linden sit up." + +"I want to stay myself, mother, if he would let me." + +"I don't believe he'll do that, Faith--and I guess he's right But you +must make him go home to tea, child, and he might rest a little then; +and I'll stay till he comes back, at least." + +There was not much more to be said then, for Johnny woke up and wanted +to be taken on Faith's lap, and talked to, and petted; answering all +her efforts with a sort of grateful little smile and way; but moving +himself about in her arms as if he felt restless and uneasy. It went to +her heart. Presently, in the low tones which were music of themselves, +she carried his thoughts off to the time when Jesus was a little child; +and began to give him, in the simplicity of very graphic detail, part +of the story of Christ's life upon earth. It was a name that Johnny +loved to hear; and Faith went from point to point of his words, and +wonders, and healing power and comforting love. Not dwelling too long, +but telling Johnny very much as if she had seen it, each gentle story +of the sick and the weary and the troubled, who came in their various +ways to ask pity of Jesus, and found it; and reporting to Johnny as if +she had heard them the words of promise and love that a little child +could understand. Mrs. Derrick listened; she had never heard just such +a talk in her life. The peculiarity of it was in the vivid faith and +love which took hold of the things as if Faith had had them by eyesight +and hearing, and in the simplicity of representation with which she +gave them, as a child to a child. And all the while she let Johnny +constantly be changing his position, as restlessness prompted; from +sitting to kneeling and lying in her arms; sometimes brushing his hair, +which once in a while he had a fancy for, and sometimes combing it off +from his forehead with her own fingers dipped in the vinegar and water +which he liked to smell. Nothing could be more winning--nothing more +skilful, in its way, than Faith's talk to the sick child that half hour +or more. And Johnny told its effect, in the way he would bid her +"talk," if she paused for a minute. So by degrees the restless fit +passed off for the time, and he lay still in her arms, with drooping +heavy eyelids now. + +Everything was subsiding;--the sun sank down softly behind the wavy +horizon line, the clouds floated silently away to some other harbour, +and the blasts of wind came fainter and fainter, like the music of a +retreating army. Swiftly the daylight ebbed away, and still Faith +rocked softly back and forth, and her mother watched her. Once in a +while Reuben came silently in to bring wood or fresh water,--otherwise +they had no interruption. Then Mr. Linden came, and sitting down by +Faith as he had done before, asked about the child and about the doctor. + +"He came very soon after you went away," said Faith. "He said that he +was no better, and that to be no better was to be worse." It was plain +that she thought more than she said. Faith had little experience, but +there is an intuitive skill in some eyes to know what they have never +known before. + +Mr. Linden bent down over the child, laying cheek to cheek softly and +silently, until Johnny rousing up a little held up his lips to be +kissed,--and he did not raise his head then. + +"Have you been asleep, Johnny?" he said. + +"I don't know," the child said dreamily. + +"Has Miss Faith taken care of you ever since I went?" + +"Yes," Johnny said, with a little faint smile--"and we've had talk." + +"I wish I had been here to hear it," said Mr. Linden. "What was it +about?--all sorts of sweet things?" + +"Yes," Johnny said again, his face brightening--"out of the Bible." + +"Well they are the sweetest things I know of," said Mr. Linden. "Now if +you will come on my lap, I am sure Miss Faith will get you something to +eat--she can do it a great deal better than I can." + +Faith had soon done that, and brought the cup to Johnny, of something +that he liked, and fed him as she had done at noon. It seemed to +refresh him, for he fell into a quieter sleep than he had had for some +time, and was oftly laid on the bed. + +"Now dear Faith," Mr. Linden said coming back to her, "it is time for +you to go home and rest." + +"Do you mean to send me?" she said wistfully. + +"Or take you--" he said, with a soft touch of his fingers on her hair. +"I don't know but I could be spared long enough for that." + +It was arranged so, Mrs. Derrick undertaking to supply all deficiencies +so far as she could, until Mr. Linden should get back again. The fast +drive home through the still cold air was refreshing to both parties; +it was a still drive too. Then leaving Mr. Linden to get a little rest +on the sofa, Faith prepared tea. But Mr. Linden would not stay long +after that, for rest or anything. + +"I am coming very early to-morrow, Endecott," Faith said then. + +"You may, dear child--if you will promise to sleep to-night. But you +must not rouse yourself _too_ early. You know to-morrow is Saturday--so +I shall not be called off by other duties." + +He went, and Mrs. Derrick came; but Faith, though weary enough +certainly, spent the evening in study. + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + +There is no knowing what Mr. Linden would have considered "too early," +and Faith had prudently omitted to enquire. She studied nothing but her +Bible that morning and spent the rest of the time in getting ready what +she was to take with her; for Mr. Linden would not come home to +breakfast. And it was but fair day, the sun had not risen, when she was +on her way. She wondered, as she went, what they would have done that +winter without Jerry; and looked at the colouring clouds in the east +with a strange quick appreciation of the rising of that other day told +of in the Bible. Little Johnny brought the two near; the type and the +antitype. It was a pretty ride; cold, bright, still, shadowless; till +the sun got above the horizon, and then the long yellow faint beams +threw themselves across the snow that was all a white level before. +They reached Faith's heart, as the commissioned earnest of that other +Sun that will fill the world with his glory and that will make heaven a +place where "there shall be no night." + +The room where little Johnny was,--lay like the chamber called Peace, +in the Pilgrim's Progress--towards the sunrising; but to reach it Faith +had first to pass through another on the darker side of the house. The +door between the two stood open, perhaps for fresher air, and as Faith +came lightly in she could see that room lit up as it were with the +early sunbeams. It was an old-fashioned room;--the windows with chintz +shades, the floor painted, with a single strip of rag carpet; the old +low-post bed-stead, with its check blue and white spread, the +high-backed splinter chairs, told of life that had made but little +progress in modern improvement. And Jonathan Fax himself, lean, +long-headed, and lantern-jawed, looked grimmer than ever under his new +veil of solemn feeling. He sat by the window. + +The wood fire in the low fireplace flickered and fell with its changing +light, on all; but within the warm glow a little group told of life +that _had_ made progress--progress which though but yet begun, was to +go on its fair course through all the ages of eternity! + +Little Johnny sat in his teacher's lap, one arm round his neck, and his +weary little head resting as securely on Mr. Linden's breast as if it +had been a woman's. The other hand moved softly over the cuff of that +black sleeve, or twined its thin fingers in and out the strong hand +that was clasped round him. Sometimes raising his eyes, Johnny put some +question, or asked for "talk;" his own face then much the brighter of +the two,--Faith could see the face that bent over him not only touched +with its wonted gravity, which the heavenly seal set there, but moved +and shaken in its composure by the wistful eyes and words of the little +boy. The answering words were too low-spoken for her to hear. She could +see how tenderly the child's caresses were returned,--not the mother +whose care Johnny had never known, could have given the little head +gentler rest. Nay, not so good,--unless she could have given the little +heart such comfort. For Johnny was in the arms of one who knew well +that road to the unseen land--who had studied it; and now as the child +went on before him, could still give him words of cheer, and shew him +the stepping-stones through the dark river. It seemed to Faith as if +the river were already in sight,--as if somewhat of + + "that strange, unearthly grace + Which crowns but once the children of our race--" + +already rested upon Johnny's fair brow. Yet he looked brighter than +yesterday, bright with a very sweet clear quietness now. + +Faith stood still one minute--and another; then pulling off her hood, +she came in with a footfall so noiseless that it never brought Mr. +Fax's head from the window, and knelt down by the side of that group. +She had a smile for Johnny too, but it was a smile that had quite left +the things of the world behind it and met the child on his own ground; +and her kiss was sweet accordingly. A look and a clasp of the hand to +Mr. Linden; then she rose up and went round to the window to take the +hand of Mr. Fax, who had found his feet. + +"I'm very much beholden to ye!" said he in somewhat astonished wise. +"You're takin' a sight o' trouble among ye." + +"It's no trouble, sir." + +Mr. Fax looked bewildered. He advanced to Mr. Linden. "Now this girl's +here," said he, "don't you think you hadn't better come into another +room and try to drop off? I guess he can get along without you for a +spell--can't he?" + +"I am not quite ready to leave him," Mr. Linden said,--"and I am not at +all sleepy, Mr. Fax. Perhaps I will come by and by." + +"We'll have breakfast, I conclude, some time this forenoon. I'll go and +see if it's ever comin'. Maybe you'll take that first." + +He went away; and Faith, rid of her wrappers, came up again behind +Johnny, passing her fingers through his hair and bending down her face +to his; she did not speak. Only her eye went to Mr. Linden for +intelligence, as the eye will, even when it has seen for itself! + +"Dr. Harrison is coming this morning," was all he said. She did not +need to ask any more. + +"May Johnny have anything now?" + +"O yes--and he will like it," Mr. Linden said in a different tone, and +half addressing the child. "He asked me some time ago when you were +coming--but not for that." + +Faith brought something freshly prepared for Johnny and served him +tenderly. Meanwhile her own coffee had been on the fire; and after +making two or three simple arrangements of things she came back to them. + +"Will you sit with me now, Johnny, and let Mr. Linden have some +breakfast?" + +"In here?" the child said. But being reassured on that point, he came +to Faith's arms very willingly, or rather let Mr. Linden place him +there, when she had drawn her chair up nearer the table so that he +could look on. And with her arms wrapped tenderly round him, but a face +of as clear quiet as the morning sky when there are no clouds before +the sunrise, she sat there, and she and Johnny matched Mr. Linden's +breakfast. There was no need to talk, for Johnny had a simple pleasure +in what was going on, and in everything his friend did. And if the +little face before him hindered Mr. Linden's enjoyment of breakfast, +that was suffered to appear as little as possible. Breakfast was even +rather prolonged and played with, because it seemed to amuse him; and +the word and the smile were always ready, either to call forth or to +answer one from the child. Nor from him alone, for by degrees even +Faith was drawn out of her silence. + +Mr. Linden had not yet changed his place, when on the walk that led up +to the house Faith saw the approach of Dr. Harrison. The doctor as he +came in gave a comprehensive glance at the table, Mr. Linden who had +risen, and Faith with Johnny in her lap; shook hands with Mr. Linden, +and taking the chair he had quitted sat down in front of Faith and +Johnny. A question and answer first passed about her own well-being. + +"You've not been here all night?" said he. + +"No, sir. I came a while ago." + +The doctor's unsatisfied eye fell on the child; fell, with no change of +its unsatisfied expression. It took rapid and yet critical note of him, +with a look that Faith knew through its unchangingness, scanned, +judged, and passed sentence. Then Dr. Harrison rose and walked over to +Mr. Linden. + +"There is nothing to be done," he said in a low tone. "I would +stay--but I know that it would be in vain. _She_ ought not to be here." + +For the first remark Mr. Linden was prepared,--the second fell upon a +heart that was already keeping closer watch over her strength and +happiness than even the doctor could. He merely answered by a quiet +question or two as to what could be done for the child's comfort--as to +the probable length of time there would be to do anything. + +"He may have any simple thing he likes," said the doctor--"such as he +has had. I need not give you directions for more than to-day. I am +sorry I cannot stay longer with you--but it does not matter--you can do +as well as I now." + +He went up to Faith and spoke with a different manner. "Miss Faith, I +hope you will not let your goodness forget that its powers need to be +taken care of. You were here yesterday--there is no necessity for you +to be here to-day." + +"I don't come for necessity, Dr. Harrison." + +"I know!" said he shaking his head,--"your will is strong! but it ought +not to have full play. You are not wanted here." + +Faith let him go without an answer to that. As soon as the doctor was +gone, Mr. Linden came and sat down by Johnny again, kissing the child's +brow and cheek and lips, with a face a little moved indeed, and yet +with its clear look unclouded; and softly asked what he should do for +him. But though Johnny smiled, and stroked his face, he seemed rather +inclined to be quiet and even to sleep; yielding partly to the effect +of weakness and fever, partly to the restless night; and his two +teachers watched him together. Faith was very silent and quiet. Then +suddenly she said, + +"Go and take some rest yourself, won't you, Endecott--now." + +"I do not feel the need of it--" he said. "I had some snatches of sleep +last night." + +She looked at him, but the silence was unbroken again for some little +time longer. At length, pushing aside a lock of hair from the fair +little brow beneath which the eyelids drooped with such unnatural +heaviness, Faith said,--and the tone seemed to come from very stillness +of heart, the words dropped so grave and clear,-- + +"The name of Christ is good here to-day, Endecott." + +"How good! how precious!" was his quick rejoinder. "And how very +precious too, is the love of his will!"--and he repeated softly, as if +half thinking it out-- + + "'I worship thee, sweet will of God! + And all thy ways adore! + And every day I live, I seem + To love thee more and more.'" + + +An earnest, somewhat wistful glance of Faith's eye was the answer; it +was not a dissenting answer, but it went back to Johnny. Her lip was a +child's lip in its humbleness. + +"It was very hard for me to give him up at first--" Mr. Linden went on +softly; and the voice said it was yet; "but that answers all questions. +'The good Husbandman may pluck his roses, and gather in his lilies at +mid-summer, and, for aught I dare say, in the beginning of the first +summer month.'"-- + +Faith looked at the little human flower in her arms--and was silent. + +"Reuben was telling me yesterday--" she said after a few +minutes,--"what you have been to him." + +But her words touched sweet and bitter things--Mr. Linden did not +immediately answer,--his head drooped a little on his hand, and he did +not raise it again until Johnny claimed his attention. + +The quiet rest of the little sleeper was passing off,--changing into an +unquiet waking; not with the fear of yesterday but with a restlessness +of discomfort that was not easily soothed. Words and caresses seemed to +have lost their quieting power for the time, though the child's face +never failed to answer them; but he presently held out his arms to Mr. +Linden, with the words, "Walk--like last night." + +And for a while then Faith had nothing to do but to look and listen; to +listen to the soft measured steps through the room, to watch the +soothing, resting effect of the motion on the sick child, as wrapped in +Mr. Linden's arms he was carried to and fro. She could tell how it +wrought from the quieter, unbent muscles--from the words which by +degrees Johnny began to speak. But after a while, one of these words +was, "Sing."--Mr. Linden did not stay his walk, but though his tone was +almost as low as his foot-steps, Faith heard every word. + + "Jesus loves me--this I know, + For the Bible tells me so: + Little ones to him belong,-- + They are weak, but he is strong. + + "Jesus loves me,--he who died + Heaven's gate to open wide; + He will wash away my sin, + Let his little child come in. + + "Jesus loves me--loves me still, + Though I'm very weak and ill; + From his shining throne on high + Comes to watch me where I lie. + + "Jesus loves me,--he will stay + Close beside me all the way. + Then his little child will take + Up to heaven for his dear sake." + + +There were a few silent turns taken after that, and then Mr. Linden +came back to the rocking-chair, and told Faith in a sort of bright +cheerful way--meant for her as well as the child--that Johnny wanted +her to brush his hair and give him something to eat. Which Johnny +enforced with one of his quiet smiles. Faith sprang to do it, and both +offices were performed with hands of tenderness and eyes of love, with +how much inner trembling of heart neither eyes nor hands told. Then, +after all that was done, Faith stood by the table and began to swallow +coffee and bread on her own account, somewhat eagerly. Mr. Linden +watched her, with grave eyes. + +"Now you must go and lie down," he said. + +"Not at all!" Faith said with a smile at him. "I hadn't time--or didn't +take time--to eat my breakfast before I came away from home--that is +all. It is you who ought to do that, Endy,"--she added gently. + +She put away the things, cleared the table, made up the fire, and +smoothed the bed, ready for Johnny when he should want it; and then she +came and sat down. + +"Won't you go?" she said softly. + +"I would rather stay here." + +Faith folded her hands and sat waiting to be useful. + +Perhaps Mr. Linden thought it would be a comfort to her if he at least +partly granted her request, perhaps he thought it would be wise; for he +said, laying his cheek against the child's,-- + +"Johnny, if you will sit with Miss Faith now, I will lay my head down +on one of your pillows for a little while, and you can call me the +minute you want me." + +The child was very quiet and resting then, and leaning his head happily +against Faith, watched Mr. Linden as he sat down by the bedside and +gave himself a sort of rest in the way he had proposed; and then +Faith's gentle voice was put in requisition. It was going over some +things Johnny liked to hear, very softly so that no ears but his might +be the wiser,--when the door opened and Jonathan Fax came in again. He +glanced at Mr. Linden, and advanced softly up to Faith. There stood and +looked down at his child and her with a curious look--that half +recognized what it would not see. + +"You're as good to him as if he belonged to ye!--" said Jonathan, in a +voice not clear. + +"So he does--" was Faith's answer, laying her cheek to the little boy's +head. "By how many ties," she thought; but she added no more. The words +had shaken her. + +"How's he gettin' on?" was the uneasy question next, as the father +stooped with his hands on his knees to look nearer at the child. + +Did he not know? Faith for a minute held her breath. Then she lifted +her face and looked up--looked full into his eyes. + +"Don't you know, Mr. Fax, that Johnny cannot go any way but _well?_" + +The words were soft and low, but the man stood up, straightening +himself instantly as if he had received a blow. + +"Do you mean to say," he asked huskily, "that he is goin' to _die?_" + +It startled Faith fearfully. She did not know how much Johnny would +understand or be moved by the words. And she saw that they had been +heard and noted. With infinite softness and quietness she laid her +cheek to the little boy's, answering in words as sweet as he had ever +heard from her voice--as unfearful-- + +"Johnny knows where he is going, if Jesus wants him." + +"Jesus is in heaven," the child said instantly, as if she had asked him +a question, and with the same deliberate manner that he would have +answered her in Sunday school, and raising his clear eyes to hers as he +had been wont to do there. But the voice was fainter. + +Faith's head drooped lower, and her voice was fainter too--but clear +and cheery. + +"Yes, darling--and we'll be with him there by and by." + +"Yes," the child repeated, nestling his head against her in a weary +sort of way, but with a little smile still. The father looked at Faith +and at the child like one mazed and bewildered; stood still as if he +had got a shock; then wheeling round spoke to nobody and went out. +Faith pressed her lips and cheek lightly to Johnny's brow, in a rush of +sorrow and joy; then began again some sweet Bible story for his tired +little spirit. + +Mr. Linden did not long keep even his resting position, though perhaps +longer than he would but for the murmuring talk which he did not want +to interrupt. But when that ceased, he came back to his former seat, +leaning his arm on Faith's chair in a silence that was very +uninterrupted. There were plenty of comers and goers in the outer +room,--Miss Bezac, and Mrs. Stoutenburgh, and Mrs. Derrick, and Mrs. +Somers, were all there with offers of assistance; but Mr. Linden knew +well that little Johnny had all he could have, and his orders to Reuben +had been very strict that no one should come in. So except the various +tones of different voices--which made their way once in a while--the +two watchers had nothing to break the still quiet in which they sat. +Their own words only made the quiet deeper, as they watched the little +feet which they had first guided in the heavenward path, now passing on +before them. + +"We were permitted to shew him the way at first, Faith," Mr. Linden +said, "but he is shewing it to us now! But 'suffer them to come'! in +death as in life." + +Much of the time the child slumbered--or lay in a half stupor, though +often this was uneasy unless Mr. Linden walked with him up and down the +room. Then he would revive a little, and look and speak quite brightly, +asking for singing or reading or talk,--letting Faith smooth his hair, +or bathe his face and hands, or give him a spoonful or two from one of +her little cups; his face keeping its fair quiet look, even though the +mortal began to give way before the immortal. + +In one of these times of greater strength and refreshment, when he was +in Mr. Linden's arms, he looked up at him and said, + +"Read about heaven--what you used to." + +Mr. Linden took his little Bible--remembering but too readily what that +"used" to be, and read softly and clearly the verses in Revelation-- + +"'And he shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem.--And the city +had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the +glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. And the +nations of them that are saved shall walk in the light of it, and the +kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour unto it. And the +gates of it shall not be shut at all by day, for there shall be no +night there. And there shall in no wise enter into it anything that +defileth, or whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie, but they +that are written in the Lamb's book of life.'" + +The child listened, with his eyes upon his teacher's face and his arm +round him, as he had been "used," too, and when the reading was +finished lay quiet for a little time; while his friends too were +silent--thinking of "the city that hath foundations." + +"That's the same gate," Johnny said in his slow, thoughtful way, as if +his mind had gone back to the morning hymn. + +"Yes," Mr. Linden said, with lips that would not quite be controlled, +and yet answering the child's smile, "that is the gate where his little +child shall go in! And that is the beautiful city where the Lord Jesus +lives, and where my Johnny is going to be with him forever--and where +dear Miss Faith and I hope to come by and by." + +The child's hands were folded together, and with a fair, pure smile he +looked from one face to the other; closing his eyes then in quiet +sleep, but with the smile yet left. + +It was no time for words. The gates of the city seemed too near, where +the little traveller's feet were so soon to enter. The veil between +seemed so slight, that even sense might almost pass beyond it,--when +the Heaven-light was already shining on that fair little face! Faith +wiped away tears--and looked--and brushed them away again; but for a +long time was very silent. At last she said, very low, that it might be +quietly,-- + +"Endecott--it seems to me as if I could almost hear them!" + +He half looked the question which yet needed no answer, looking down +then again at the little ransomed one in his arms, as he said in the +same low voice, wherein mingled a note of the church triumphant through +all its deep human feeling,-- + +"'And they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book +and to open the seals thereof, for thou wast slain: and hast redeemed +us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people +and nation'!" + +"And," said Faith presently, lower still,--"can't you, as Bunyan says, +hear the bells of the city ringing for joy!--" + +Those "choral harmonies of heaven, heard or unheard," were stilling to +mortal speech and even mortal feeling. Very quietly the minutes and the +hours of that day succeeded each other. Quietly even on the sick +child's part; more so than yesterday; nature succumbed gently, and the +restless uneasiness which had marked the night and the preceding day +gave place gradually before increasing faintness of the bodily powers. +There was little "talk" called for after that time--hardly any, though +never a word met his waking ear that did not meet the same grateful, +pleased manner and smile. But the occasions became fewer; Johnny +slumbered gently, but more plainly a sleep that was nearing the end, in +the arms of his best friend, who would let him even when unconscious +have no worse resting-place--would let every faint waking minute find +the same earthly love about him that had been his dearest earthly +refuge and stay. But earth was having less and less of her little +immortal tenant; and as the hours of the afternoon began to tell of +failing light and a fading day, it was plain that the little spirit was +almost ready to wing its way to the "city that hath no need of the sun." + +Mr. Fax came in sometimes to look at the child, but never staid +long--never offered to take him out of the hands he perhaps +unconsciously felt were more of kin to him, spiritually, than his own. +Out of the room, he sat down in the midst of his visitors and said +nothing. He seemed bewildered--or astounded. "I never knowed," he said +once, "till that girl told me. I heard what the doctor said at +night--but I didn't think as he was any wiser than other doctors--and +their word's about as good one side as 'tother." + +At the edge of the evening Reuben came in to say that Mr. Skip was +there with the sleigh. + +"Let him put Jerry in the stable and go home," Faith said softly to Mr. +Linden. "One of Mr. Fax's men can harness him any time." + +"Dear Faith!" he said, "you had better go with him." + +"I can't go, Endecott. Don't tell me to go,"--she said with a +determinate quietness. + +"How can I let you stay?--you ought not to watch here all night--unless +there were something for you to do." + +"There may be something for me to do," she said, but not as if that +were what she wanted to stay for. + +"I think not," he said softly, and looking down again,--"Faith--it is +near the dawning!--and yet it may not be till the dawning. And dear +child, you ought not to watch here." + +"It will not hurt me," she said under her breath. + +"I know--" he said with a gentle admission of all her reasons and full +sympathy with all her wishes,--"but I think you ought not." + +"Do you mean," she said after a minute's pause,--"that you wish me to +go?" + +It was hard for him to say yes--but he did. + +She sat still a moment, with her face in the shade; then rose up and +arranged everything about the room which her hands could better; made a +cup of tea and brought it to Mr. Linden; and prepared herself for her +ride. When she came at last, ready, with only her hood to put on, her +face was almost as fair as Johnny's. There was no shadow on it of any +kind, but clear day, as if a reflection from the "city" she had been +looking towards. She put her hand in Mr. Linden's and knelt down as she +had done in the morning to kiss Johnny. Her lips trembled--but the +kisses were quietly given; and rising to her feet without speaking or +looking, Faith went away. + +If quietness was broken on the ride home, it was restored by the time +she got there; and with the same clear look Faith went in. That Mrs. +Derrick was much relieved to see her, was evident, but she seemed not +very ready to ask questions. She looked at Faith, and then with a +little sigh or two began softly to unfasten her cloak and furs, and to +put her in a comfortable place by the fire, and to hasten tea, but all +in a sort of sorrowful subdued silence; letting her take her own time +to speak, or not speak at all, if she liked it better. Faith's words +were cheerfully given, though about other things. And after tea she did +in some measure justify Mr. Linden's decision in sending her home; for +she laid herself on the couch in the sitting-room and went into a sleep +as profound and calm as the slumbers she had left watching. Her mother +sat by her in absolute stillness--thinking of Faith as she had been in +her childhood and from thence until now; thinking of the last time she +herself had been in that sick room, of the talk she had heard there--of +the silence that was there now: wiping away some tears now and +then--looking always at Faith with a sort of double feeling; that both +claimed her as a child, and was ready to sit at her feet and learn. But +as it came to the hour of bedtime, and Faith still slept, her mother +stooped down and kissed her two or three times to wake her up. + +"Pretty child," she said, "you'd better go to bed." + +Faith started with a recollective look and asked what time it was; then +sank down again. + +"I'll wait an hour yet." + +"Had you better?" her mother said gently. "I'll sit up, dear, and call +you if you're wanted. Did you think they'd send?" + +"Send?--O no, mother!" + +Mrs. Derrick was silent a minute. "Mr. Linden wouldn't come home +to-night, dear." + +"Wouldn't he?" said Faith startling; and for a minute the sorrowful +look came back to her face. But then it returned to its high quiet; she +kissed her mother and they went up stairs together. + +No, he did not come home,--and well assured that he would not, Faith +ceased to watch for him, and fatigue and exhaustion again had their +way. The night was very still--the endless train of stars sweeping on +in their appointed course, until the morning star rose and the day +broke. Even then Faith slept on. But when the more earthly light of the +sun came, with its bestirring beams, it roused her; and she started up, +in that mood where amid quick coming recollections she was almost +breathless for more tidings--waiting, as if by the least noise or stir +she might lose something. + +It was then that she heard Mr. Linden come in--even as she sat so +listening,--heard him come in and come up stairs, with a slow quiet +step that would have told her all, if the fact of his coming had not +been enough. She heard his door close, and then all was still again, +except what faint sounds she might hear from the working part of the +house below. Faith sat motionless till she could hear nothing more up +stairs--and then kept her position breathlessly for a second or two +longer, looking at the still sunbeams which came pouring into her room +according to their wont, with their unvarying heavenly message;--and +then gave way--rare for her--to a burst of gentle sorrow, that yet was +not all sorrow, and which for that very mingling was the more +heart-straitening while it lasted. The light of the fair clear Sunday +morning bore such strange testimony of the "everlasting day" upon which +her little charge of yesterday had even entered! But the sense of that +was quieting, if it was stirring. + +Not until the breakfast hour was fully come did Mr. Linden make his +appearance; but then he came, looking pale indeed, and somewhat worn, +yet with a face of rest. He gave his hand to Mrs. Derrick, and coming +up to Faith took her in his arms and kissed her, and gently put her in +her chair at the table; waiving all questions till another time. There +were none asked; Mrs. Derrick would not have ventured any; and the +tinge in Faith's cheeks gave token of only one of various feelings by +which she was silenced. Yet that was not a sorrowful breakfast--for +rest was on every brow, on two of them it was the very rest of the day +when Christ broke the bars of death and rose. + +Breakfast had been a little late, and there was not much time to spare +when it was over. + +"You had better not try to go out this morning, dear Faith," Mr. Linden +said as they left the table and came round the fire in the sitting-room. + +"O yes! I can go.--I _must_ go"--she added softly. + +"I have not much to tell you,"--he said in the same tone,--"nothing, +but what is most sweet and fair. Would you like to go up there with me +by and by?" + +"Yes.--After church?" + +"After church in the afternoon would give us most time." + +The Sunday classes were first met--_how_ was not likely to be forgotten +by scholars or teachers. It was an absorbing hour to Faith and her two +little children that were left to her; an hour that tried her very +much. She controlled herself, but took her revenge all church time. As +soon as she was where nobody need know what she did, Faith felt +unnerved, and a luxury of tears that she could not restrain lasted till +the service was over. It lasted no longer. And the only two persons +that knew of the tears, were glad to have them come. + +After the afternoon service, when people were not only out of church +but at home, Mr. Linden and Faith set out on their solitary drive--it +was too far for her to walk, both for strength and time,--the afternoon +was well on its way. + +The outer room into which Faith had first gone the day before, had a +low murmur of voices and a little sprinkling of people within; but Mr. +Linden let none of them stop her, and merely bowing as he passed +through, he led her on. In the next room were two of the boys, but they +went away at once; and Mr. Linden put his arm round Faith, letting her +lean all her weight on him if she chose, and led her up to the bedside. +They stood there and looked--as one might look at a ray of eternal +sunlight falling athwart the dark shadows of time. + +The child lay in his deep sleep as if Mr. Linden had just laid him +down; his head a little turned towards them, a little drooping, his +hands in their own natural position on breast and neck. A faint +pink-tinted wrapper lay in soft folds about him, with its white frills +at neck and wrists,--on his breast a bunch of the first snowdrops spoke +of the "everlasting spring, and never withering flowers!" + +With hearts and faces that grew every moment more quiet, more steady, +Johnny's two teachers stood and looked at him,--then knelt together, +and prayed that in the way which they had shewed him, they might +themselves be found faithful. + +"You shouldn't say _we_"--said Faith when they had risen and were +standing there again. "It was _you_--to him and me both." And bending +forward to kiss the little face again, she added, "He taught me as much +as he ever learned from me!" + +But the words were spoken with difficulty, and Faith did not try any +more. + +They stood there till the twilight began to fall, and then turned their +faces homewards with a strange mingling of joy and sorrow in their +hearts. How many times Mr. Linden went there afterwards Faith did not +know--she could only guess. + +There was no school for the next two days. Tuesday was white with +snow,--not falling thick upon the ground, but in fine light flakes, and +few people cared to be out. Mr. Linden had been, early in the +morning,--since dinner he had been in his room; and now as it drew +towards three o'clock, he came down and left the house, taking the road +towards that of Jonathan Fax. Other dark figures now appeared from time +to time, bending their steps in the same direction,--some sturdy farmer +in his fearnought coat, or two of the school-boys with their arms round +each other. Then this ceased, and the soft falling snow alone was in +the field. + +The afternoon wore on, and the sun was towards the setting, when a +faint reddish tinge began to flush along the western horizon, and the +snowflakes grew thinner. Then, just as the first sunbeams shot through +their cloudy prison, making the snow a mere white veil to their +splendour, the little carriage of Mr. Somers came slowly down the road, +and in it Mr. Somers himself. A half dozen of the neighbouring farmers +followed. Then the little coffin of Johnny Fax, borne by Reuben Taylor +and Sam Stoutenburgh and Phil Davids and Joe Deacon, each cap and left +arm bound with crape; followed by Johnny's two little +classmates--Charles Twelfth and Robbie Waters. Then the chief +mourners--Jonathan Fax and Mr. Linden, arm in arm, and Mr. Linden +wearing the crape badge. After them the whole school, two and two. The +flickering snowflakes fell softly on the little pall, but through them +the sunbeams shot joyously, and said that the child had gone-- + + "Through a dark stormy night, + To a calm land of light!"-- + + "Meet again? Yes, we shall meet again, + Though now we part in pain! + His people all + Together Christ shall call, + Hallelujah!" + + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick in a choked voice, and wiping her eyes, when +the last one had long passed out of view, "it's good to see him and +Jonathan Fax walking together! anyway. I guess Jonathan 'll never say a +word against _him_ again. Faith, he's beautiful!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + +It seemed to Faith as if the little shadow which February had brought +and left did not pass away--or rather, as if it had stretched on till +it met another; though whence that came, from what possible cloud, she +could not see. _She_ was not the cloud--that she knew and felt: if such +care and tenderness and attention as she had had all winter _could_ be +increased, then were they now,--every spare moment was given to her, +all sorts of things were undertaken to give her pleasure, and that she +was Mr. Linden's sunbeam was never more clear. Yet to her fancy that +shadow went out and came in with him--lived even in her presence,--nay, +as if she had been a real sunbeam, grew deeper there. And yet not +that,--what was it? The slight change of voice or face in the very +midst of some bright talk, the eyes that followed her about the room or +studied her face while she studied her lesson--she felt if she did not +see them,--even the increased unwillingness to have her out of his +sight,--what did they all mean? So constant, yet so intangible,--so +going hand in hand with all the clear, bright activity that had ever +been part of Mr. Linden's doings; while the pleasure of nothing seemed +to be checked, and yet a little pain mingled with all,--Faith felt +puzzled and grieved by turns. She bore it for a while, in wondering and +sorrowful silence, till she began to be afraid of the shadow's +spreading to her own face. Nay, she felt it there sometimes. Faith +couldn't stand it any longer. + +He had come in rather late one evening. It was a bleak evening in +March, but the fire--never more wanted--burned splendidly and lit up +the sitting-room in style. Before it, in the easy-chair, Mr. Linden sat +meditating. He might be tired--but Faith fancied she saw the shadow. +She came up behind his chair, put both hands on one of his shoulders +and leaned down. + +"Endecott"--she said in some of her most winning tones,--"may I ask you +something?" + +He came out of his muse instantly, and laying his hand on hers, asked +her "what she thought about it herself?" + +"I think I may, if you'll promise not to answer me--unless you have a +mind!" + +"_Do_ you suppose I would?" Mr. Linden said laughing. "What trust you +have in your own power!" + +"No, not a bit," said Faith. "Then shall I ask you?" + +"You are beginning to work upon my timid disposition!--of which I +believe I once told you. What are you going to ask me?--to challenge +Dr. Harrison?--or to run for President?" + +"Would you like to do either of those two things?" + +"I was only putting myself at your disposal--as I have done before." + +"Would you do either of 'em if I asked you?" said Faith softly. + +"I suppose I am safe in saying yes!" said Mr. Linden smiling. "Little +bird--why do you keep on the wing?" + +"I wanted to make sure of lighting in a right place," said Faith. +"Endy"--and her voice came back to the rich softness of the tones of +her first question, a little dashed with timidity,--"has anybody been +putting 'nonsense' into your head?" + +He lifted her hand from its resting place, bringing it round to his +cheek and lips at first in silence, + +"Do you know," he said, "that is just the point over which I thought +you were hovering?"--But the certainty had changed his tone. And rising +up quick and suddenly, he drew her off to the sofa and seated her +there, keeping his arm still about her as if for a shield. + +"Faith," he said, "do you remember that I promised some time to tell +you a long story?" + +She looked up into his face gravely and affectionately, reading his +look. "But you won't have time for it now, Endecott--tea will be ready +directly. We must wait till by and by." + +"My little Sunbeam," he said, looking at her and gently pushing back +her hair, "do you know I love you very much!--What made you think there +was anything in my head but the most profound and abstract sense?" + +Faith shook her head with a little bit of a smile. + +"I saw that you were growing either more sensible of late--or +_less_,--and I wanted to know which it was." + +"Please to explain yourself! How could I grow more sensible?--and in +what way did I grow less?" + +"I am talking nonsense," said Faith simply. "But if it _was_ sense in +your head, Endy, there was a little too much of it; and I had seen +nonsense look so--so I wanted to know." + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said, "you remind me often of that Englishman +Madame D'Arblay tells about,--who to the end of his life declared that +his wife was the most beautiful sight in the world to him! Do you know +I think he will have a successor?" + +Her colour rose bright, and for a minute she looked down at her +diamonds. Then looked up demurely, and asked who Madame D'Arblay was? + +"She was an English woman, an authoress, a maid of honour to the Queen. +Do you wish to know anything about the other two persons I alluded to?" + +One sparkling flash of Faith's soft eye, was all she gave him. "No, I +don't think I do," she said. + +"You know enough already?--or too much? Faith--are Christmas roses to +be in season all the year round?" + +"I don't know,--but tea is. Suppose I go and see about it--Monsieur?" + +"Eh bien--Mademoiselle," he said gravely but holding her +fast,--"suppose you do!" + +"Then we should have it." + +"Undoubtedly, Mademoiselle! Vous avez raison." + +"And what have you?" said Faith laughing. + +"I have _you!_--Love and Reason did meet once, you know." + +"Did they?" said Faith looking up. "How should I know?" + +"You never found it out in your own personal experience?" + +"You say it's a fact," said Faith. "I thought you referred to it as a +former fact." + +"Like tea--" said Mr. Linden. + +"Like tea, Endecott!--what are you talking of?" + +"Former facts."-- + +"I wonder what I shall get you to-night, Endecott"--she said merrily +twisting round to look at him,--"you must want something! Is a thing +properly said to be former, as long as it is still present?" + +"What is present?" + +"Tea isn't past"--said Faith with another little flash of her eye. + +"If you are going to set up for Reason," said Mr. Linden, "there is no +more to be done; but as for me, I may as well submit to my fate. +Shakspeare says, 'To love, and to be wise, exceeds man's might.'" + +"I don't think I set up for reason," said Faith,--"only for tea; and +you obliged me to take reason instead. I guess--Shakspeare was right." + +"Unquestionably!" said Mr. Linden laughing. "Faith, did you ever hear +of 'Love in a Cottage'?" + +"I believe I have." + +"I hope you don't think that includes tea?" + +"I never thought it included much good," said Faith. "I always thought +it was something foolish." + +"There spoke Reason!" said Mr. Linden,--"and I shall not dare to speak +again for ten minutes. Faith, you will have time to meditate." And his +eyes went to the fire and staid there. Faith meditated--or waited upon +his meditations; for her eyes now and then sought his face somewhat +wistfully to see if she could read what he was thinking of--which yet +she could not read. But her exploring looks in that direction were too +frequent to leave room for the supposition that Reason made much +progress. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said, suddenly intercepting one of these looks, +"now let us compare results--before we meditate any further. What have +you to shew?" + +"Nothing"--said Faith frankly. + +"I on my part have made a great discovery, which will perhaps answer +for us both. It is very simple, as most great discoveries are, being +merely this: that I prefer other things than reproofs from the lips of +Reason. Will you have an illustration?" + +"Can't I understand without?" said Faith laughing, but with also a +little rising colour. And very smilingly she had her answer--the only +answer she could expect. + +"I believe you are principled against saying yes!" said Mr. Linden. +"The most encouraging thing you ever said to me was 'Oh no!'" + +What swift recollection, what quick sympathy with that time, spoke in +the crimson of Faith's cheeks! It was something to see "the eloquent +blood." Eyes were not to be seen. Mr. Linden smiled, touching his hand +softly to her cheeks. + +"O Mignonette!" he said--"or I should rather say, O Roses! or O +Carnation! Is there anything beyond that in your Flora?" + +In the emergency Faith took possession of the hand that invaded her +carnations and turning the full display upon him asked if he would not +like to have something more substantial. Apparently "the display" was +approved, though there were no words to that effect. + +"I suppose I must let you go," he said, "because if we are to study all +the evening after tea, it will not do to talk away the whole evening +before. You shall choose your own time for hearing my story, dear +child--only let me know when the time comes." + +There was no shadow upon the tea hour, on Faith's part, nor on the +hours of study that followed. The wind swept round the house, March +fashion, but the fire and the open books laughed at him. There seemed +even a little more than usual of happy gayety in Faith's way of going +through her work; she and the fire played at which should get ahead of +the other; and between whiles she was obliged to use a little caution +to obviate Mr. Linden's surprise at finding how far she was getting +ahead of herself. For Faith's early morning studies were not now by any +means confined to the lessons he set for her and expected her to do; +her object and endeavour was to prevent his requirements, and so +prepare the ground _before_ his teachings that without finding out how +it came to be so ready, he should simply occupy more of it and +cultivate higher. It was rather a nice matter! not to let him see that +she had done too much, and yet to make him know that he might take what +harvests he pleased off the ground; with such keen eyes too, that knew +so well all the relative forces of soil and cultivation and could +estimate so surely the fruits of both. Faith managed by not managing at +all and by keeping very quiet, as far as possible shewing him nothing +he did not directly or indirectly call for; but sometimes she felt she +was grazing the edge of discovery, which the least lifting of the veil +of Mr. Linden's unsuspiciousness would secure. She felt it to-night, +and the fire and she had one or two odd little consultations. Just what +Mr. Linden was consulting with himself about at those times, she did +not know; but she half fancied it was something. Once the fire called +her off at the end of a lesson, and when she came back to the table he +had the next book open; but it was not till this set of questions and +answers and explanations was half through, that Faith discovered he had +opened the book at a different place from the one where it had been +closed the day before,--then it suddenly flashed upon her; but whether +it had been by accident, or of intent, she did not know. + +One last consultation Faith held with the fire while Mrs. Derrick was +gathering her work together to go to bed. Then she brought a low seat +to Mr. Linden's feet. "Now, Endy,--I am ready." A little smile--a soft, +lingering touch upon her forehead, came with his words. + +"My little Mignonette, what do you suppose I came to Pattaquasset for?" + +She looked rather wondering at him, and then said, "I supposed--to +teach the school." + +"Yes, but to what end?--I mean in my intent. I know now what I came +for, in one sense," he said, securing one of her hands. + +"Why--Endecott, do you want me to tell you?" + +"If you know or guess." + +"I don't know nor guess anything. I supposed merely that you did that +as other people do other things--and for the same reason." + +"It was for a very commonplace reason," Mr. Linden said, watching her +face with two or three things at work in his own: "it was to get money +to finish my studies for your favourite profession." + +"My favourite profession!--Which do you mean?" + +"Have you forgotten Miss Essie's question? I have not--nor the dear +child who was so unwilling to answer it." + +Faith's mind went back to Miss Essie, the question and answer,--and +took the round of the subject,--and even as she did so her face +changed, a sort of grave light coming into it, + +"Do you mean _that_, Endy?" she said half under her breath. + +"I mean that, and no other." + +The light brightened and deepened--her colour flushed like a morning +sky,--till at last the first sunbeam struck athwart her face, in the +shape of a smile. It was not a lip smile--it was on eye and brow and +lip and cheek together. Mr. Linden bent down by her, lifting her face +to meet his eyes, which through all their intentness smiled too. + +"Faith, I want to hear every word of that." + +"Of what?" + +"Of all that is in your mind and face just now." + +Her two little answering sentences evidently only gave the key of very +deep tones. + +"I think it is good, Endy. I am glad." + +"I thought you would be. But that does not satisfy me, dear Faith--I +want you to say to me all the different things that your thoughts were +saying to you. You are not afraid of me at this time of day?" he said +bringing her face closer. + +"I have nothing to say I need be afraid to say," Faith answered +slowly,--"but it is hard to disentangle so many thoughts. I was +thinking it is such great and high work--such happy work--and such +honour--and then that you will do it right, Endecott--" she +hesitated.--"How could I help but be glad?" + +"Do you like your new prospective position, little Sunbeam?" + +A deep colour came over her face, and the eyes fell Yet Faith folded +her hands and spoke. + +"I was glad to think--" She got so far, but the sentence was never +finished. + +"Glad to think what, dear child?" + +Faith glanced up. She did not want to answer. Then she said with the +greatest simplicity, "I am glad if I may do something." + +"Glad that I should realize my ideal?" Mr. Linden said with a smile, +and softly bringing her face round again. "Faith, do you know what a +dear little 'minister's wife' you will make?--Mignonette is so suitable +for a parsonage!--so well calculated to impress the people with a +notion of the extreme grave propriety which reigns there! For is not +Mignonette always sweet, demure, and never--by any chance!--high +coloured?" + +She would not let her face be held up. It went down upon her lap--into +her hands, which she pressed close to hide it. + +"Oh Endecott!--" she said desperately.--"You'll have to call me +something else." + +"O Faith!" was his smiling reply,--"I will, just so soon as I can. +Don't you want to come over to the sofa and hear the rest of my story?" + +"Your story! Oh yes!"-- + +And first having a sympathizing interview with the fire, Faith went +over to the sofa and sat down; but hid her face no more. Much as he had +done before tea, Mr. Linden came and sat down by her,--with the same +sort of gentle steadiness of manner, as if some strong thread of +feeling had wrapped itself round an equally deep thread of +purpose,--his gay talk now as then finding always some contrast in his +face. But of this Faith had seen little or nothing--her eyes had not +been very free to look. She did notice how silently he stood by her as +she put the fire in order, she did notice the look that rested on her +as she took her seat, but then he began his story and she could thing +of nothing else. + +"It was given to me, dear Faith," he said, "to spend my boyhood in an +atmosphere more like the glow of that firelight than anything I can +compare it to, for its warmth and radiance; where very luxurious +worldly circumstances were crowned with the full luxury of earthly +love. But it was a love so heaven-directed, so heaven-blessed, that it +was but the means of preparing me to go out into the cold alone. That +was where I learned to love your diamonds," he added, taking the +jewelled hand in his,--"when I used to see them not more busy among +things of literature and taste, than in all possible ministrations to +the roughest and poorest and humblest of those whom literature +describes and taste shrinks from!--But I used to think," he said +speaking very low, "that the ring was never so bright, nor so quick +moving, as when it was at work for me." + +Faith's eye fell with his to the diamonds. She was very still; the +flash all gone. + +"That time of my life," Mr. Linden presently went on, "was passed +partly in Europe and partly here. We came home just after I had +graduated from a German University, but before I went away +again--almost everything I had in the world went from me." He was +silent for a little, drawing Faith's head down upon his shoulder and +resting his lightly upon it, till she felt what she was to him. Then he +looked up and spoke quietly as before. + +"Pet and I were left alone. A sister of my father's was very anxious to +take her, but Pet would not hear of it, and so for a year we lived +together, and when I went to the Seminary she went too,--living where I +lived, and seeing what she could of me between times. It was not very +good for her, but it was the best we could do then. I suppose there was +some mismanagement on the part of my father's executors--or some +complication in his affairs, I need not trouble you with details; but +we were left without much more than enough to give her the income I +wished her to have for her own private use. Of course I would not touch +that for our joint expenses. But until a year ago we did still live +together--by various means. Then this sister of my father's set her +heart upon taking Pet with her to Europe--and I set mine almost as +much; I could better bear to live alone, than to have her; and her life +then amounted to that. And so between us both she consented--very +unwillingly; and she went to Italy, and I studied as long as I had ways +and means, and then came here to get more. So you see, dear child," Mr. +Linden said with a smile, "it is not my fortune I have asked you to +share, but my fortunes." + +She gave him a smile, as bright and free as the glancing of a star; +then her look went away again. And it was a good little while before +perhaps she dared speak--perhaps before she wanted to speak. So very +steady and still her look and herself were, it said that they covered +thoughts too tender or too deep to be put into words. And the +thoughtfulness rather deepened as minutes rolled on--and a good many of +them rolled on, and still Faith did not speak. Mr. Linden's watch +ticked its remarks unhindered. Words came at last. + +"Endecott--you said something about 'means' for study. How much means +does it want?--and how much study?" The interest at work in the +question was deeper than Faith meant to shew, or knew she shewed. + +He told her the various expenses, ordinary and contingent, in few +words, and was silent a moment. But then drawing her close to him, with +that same sort of sheltering gesture she had noticed before, he went on +to answer her other question; the voice and manner giving her a perfect +key to all the grave looks she had mused over. + +"Do you remember, dear Faith, that I once called you 'a brave little +child'?" + +"Yes." + +"You must be that now," he said gently,--"you and I must both be brave, +and cheerful, and full of trust. Because, precious child, I have two +years' work before me--and the work cannot be done here." + +She looked in his face once, and was silent;--what her silence covered +could only be guessed. But it lasted a little while. + +"It must be done at that place where you were with your sister?" + +"Yes, little Mignonette, it must be done there." + +"And when must you begin the work, Endecott?" If the words cost her +some effort, it only just appeared. + +"I came for a year, dear Faith--and I ought not to stay much beyond +that." + +Faith mentally counted the months, in haste, with a pang; but the +silence did not last long this time. Her head left its resting place +and bending forward she looked up into Mr. Linden's face, with a sunny +clear look that met his full. It was not a look that could by any means +be mistaken to indicate a want of other feeling, however. One might as +soon judge from the sunshine gilding on the slope of a mountain that +the mountain is made of tinsel. + +"Endecott--is that what has been the matter with you?" + +She needed no answer but his look, though that was a clear as her own. + +"I could easier bear it if _I_ could bear the whole," he said. "But you +can understand that Dr. Harrison's proposal tried, though it did not +tempt me." + +She scarce gave a thought to that. + +"There is one thing more I wanted to ask. Will there be--" she paused, +and went on,--"no time at all that you can be here?" + +"Dear Faith!" he said kissing her, "do you think I could bear that? How +often I shall be able to come I cannot quite tell, but come I +shall--from time to time, if I live. And in the meanwhile we must make +letters do a great deal." + +Her face brightened. She sat quietly looking at him. + +"Will that shadow come any more,--now that you have told me?" + +"I will give you leave to scold me, if you see it," Mr. Linden said, +answering her smile,--"I ought not to be in shadow for a minute--with +such a sunbeam in my possession. Although, although!--do you know, +little bright one, that the connexion between sunbeams and shadows is +very intimate? and very hard to get rid of?" + +"Shall I talk to you about 'nonsense' again?"--she said half lightly, +resting her hand on his arm and looking at him. Yet behind her light +tone there was a great tenderness. + +"You may--and I will plead guilty. But in which of the old classes of +'uncanny' folk will you put me?--with those who were known by their +having no shadow, or with those who went always with two?" + +"So I suppose one must have a _little_ shadow, to keep from being +uncanny!" + +"You and I will not go upon that understanding, dear Faith." + +Faith did not look like one who had felt no shadow; rather perhaps she +looked like one who had borne a blow; a look that in the midst of the +talk more than once brought to Mr. Linden's mind a shadowy remembrance +of her as she was after they got home that terrible evening; but her +face had a gentle brightness now that then was wanting. + +"I don't know"--she said wistfully in answer to his last +words.--"Perhaps it is good. I dare say it is, for me. It is a shame +for me to remind you of anything--but don't you know, Endecott--'all +things are ours'? _both_ 'things present and things to come?'" And her +eye looked up with a child's gravity, and a child's smile. + +Bear it alone?--yes, he could have done that--as he had borne other +things,--it tried him to see her bear it. It touched him to see that +look come back--to see any tempering of the bright face she had worn so +long. Faith hardly knew perhaps with what eyes he had watched her +through all the conversation, eyes none the less anxious for the smile +that met hers so readily; she hardly guessed what pain her bright +efforts at keeping up, gave him. To shelter and gladden her life was +the dearest delight of his; and just now duty thwarted him in both +points. And he knew--almost better than she did--how much she depended +on him. He looked down at her for a moment with a face of such grave +submission as Faith had never seen him wear. + +"My dear little child!" he said. But that sentence was let stand by +itself. The next was spoken differently. "I do know it, dear +Faith,--and yet you do well to remind me. I need to be kept up to the +mark. And it is not more true that each day has sufficient evil, than +that each has sufficient good--if it be only sought out. There cannot +much darkness live in the light of those words." + +"How far have you to go," she said with demure archness,--"to find the +good of these days?" + +"You are quick at conclusions"--said Mr. Linden,--"how far do you think +it is between us at present?" + +"Endecott"--she said gravely--"it will never be further!" + +He laughed a little--with a half moved half amused expression, wrapping +her up like some dainty piece of preciousness. "Because every day that +I am away will bring us nearer together? I suppose that is good +measurement." + +"You know," she said, "you have told me two things to-night, Endecott; +and if one makes me sorry, the other makes me glad." + +"I was sure of that!--And it is such great, great pleasure to think of +the times of coming back--and of leaving you work to do, and of writing +to you about it,--and then of finding out how well it is done! You must +keep my books for me, Mignonette--mine, I say!--they are as much yours +as mine--and more." + +"Your books?"--she said with a flush. + +"Yes--there are but a few of these that I shall want with me,--the most +of _my_ study books I did not bring here." + +"But won't you want these with you?" + +"As far from that as possible. Do you think you could make up your mind +to let me tell Reuben a secret?--and give him a reason for being even +more devoted to you than he is now?" + +She coloured very brightly again. "I am willing--if you wish it. Why, +Endecott?" + +"The chief reason is, that I do not wish to lose any of your letters, +nor have you lose any of mine. And small postoffices are not so safe as +large ones, nor are their managers proverbially silent. I should like +to make Reuben a sort of intermediate office." + +"And send your letters to him?" + +"Yes. Would you mind that?" + +"And my letters?" + +"And yours in like manner, little Mignonette. He could either enclose +them to me, or put them in some neighbouring office,--I think Reuben +would enjoy an eight miles walk a day, taken for me. Or you could hide +your envelope with another, and let him direct that. You need not be +afraid of Reuben,"--Mr. Linden said smiling,--"you might give him forty +letters without his once daring to look at you." + +"But I thought--you said--he was going to college next summer?" + +"That was talked of, but I think he will stay another year at home, and +then enter a higher class. It will save expense, and he will be longer +with his father. Reuben and I hope to be brother ministers, one day, +Faith." + +"Do you! Does he!"--said Faith astonished. "That is good! I am glad of +it. But what will _he_ do for money, Endecott?" + +"We shall see--part of the way is clear, so we may hope the rest will +be. Perhaps I may let him do some of his studying with me. Do you think +you would object to that?" + +"Object to it! How could I? What do you mean, Endecott?" + +"O little Mignonette!" he said smiling, "how sweet you are!--and what +joy it would be to see you wear the only title I can give you! Don't +you know, pretty child, that if I gave Reuben Hebrew you might be +called upon to give him--tea!" + +Faith's eyes went down and her colour mounted, and mounted. But her +next remark was extremely collected. "How good it was Dr. Harrison's +money came!"-- + +"I believe you stipulated that we were to have tea ourselves," said Mr. +Linden, "but the question remains whether you would dispense it to any +one else." + +Faith was only restrained from covering her face again by the feeling +that it would be foolish; and withal a little laughter could not be +prevented. She did shield one side of her face with her hand, and +leaning upon it looked into the fire for suggestions. Finally answered +sedately, "I should think you and he might have it together!" + +"Have it--yes, if we could get it; but I am ignorant of any but the +chemical properties of milk and sugar." + +"I thought you said you knew cream when you saw it!" said Faith from +behind her shield. + +"That is knowing its appearance--not its properties, Miss Reason." + +"What does reason want to know more, for a cup of tea?" + +"But you have declared once to-night that I am not Reason," said Mr. +Linden laughing. "For instance--I once made the sudden acquaintance of +a particular person, who made as sudden an impression on my +mind,--after those three minutes I should have known her by sight (like +cream) to the end of my life. But I went on trying experiments--(as one +might taste successive drops of cream) finding out more and more +sweetness each time; until (like cream again) I discovered that she was +perfectly indispensable to my cup of tea!" + +Faith bowed her glad little head, laughing, though feeling much deeper +was at work. + +"After this," she said, "I shall always be greatly at a loss what you +are thinking of when you are looking at me." + +"Will your reflections be carried on with such a face?" said Mr. +Linden. "Do you remember that afternoon, Faith?--when I so nearly laid +hold of you--and you wanted to laugh, and did not dare?" + +"What afternoon?"-- + +"The one wherein I first had the pleasure of seeing you. How demurely +you eyed me!--and wondered in your little sensible heart what sort of a +person I could possibly be!" + +"How did you know I wondered?" said Faith colouring. + +"By your very gentle, modest, and fearful examinations, your evident +musings over my words, and the bright look now and then that told of +progress." + +Faith laughed. + +"You made me begin to think and wish immediately," she said.--"It was +no wonder I wondered." + +"Yes, and how I longed to give you your wish, so far as I could,--and +how afraid I was to offer my services,--and how you would persist in +thanking me for pleasing myself, do you remember, little Sunbeam?--and +your fright when I asked about Prescott?" + + +She looked up with the prettiest, rosiest remembrance of it all; and +then her face suddenly changed, and turning from him she shielded it +again with her hand, but not to hide the rosy colour this time. Mr. +Linden drew her close to him, resting his face upon her other cheek at +first without words. + +"Dear child!" he said,--"my own little Mignonette!--you must not forget +what you said to me,--and you must not forget that I hope to come home +quite often. There was a time, when I thought I might have to go away +and never have the right to come and see you again. And you must think +to yourself--though you will not speak of it to me--that after this bit +of time, all our life will be spent together. You need not expect me to +wait for anything--not even the cottage you like so much." + +She did not answer immediately, as was natural, his last suggestions +not being very word-provoking with her. But when she did speak, it was +in a clear, cheerful tone. + +"I'll bear my part, Endy--I should be very ungrateful if I couldn't. +And you can bear your part--I am glad to think of that!--for you are +working for a Master that always gives full pay." + +"We can always bear God's will," he said, a little gravely,--"it is +only our own that points the trial and makes it unbearable." + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + +Faith had no chance to think that night. She went to sleep +conscientiously. And a chance the next morning was out of the question. +She dared not come down as early as usual, if her own strength would +have let her. The few minutes before breakfast were busy ones; and the +few hours after breakfast. Faith went about with the consciousness of +something on her heart to be looked at; but it had to bide its time. +Her household duties done, her preparations for Mr. Linden being +already in advance, she had leisure to attend to this other thing. And +alone Faith sat down and looked at it. + +It was the first real steady trial her life had known. Her father's +death had come when she was too young to feel deeply any want that her +mother could not fill. To be away from anything she much loved was a +sorrow Faith hardly knew by experience. But a two years' separation was +a very, very heavy and sharp pain to think of; and Faith had an inward +assurance that the reality would be heavier and sharper than her +thoughts beforehand could make it. Perhaps it was too great a pain to +be struggled with; for Faith did not struggle--or not long. She sat +down and looked at it,--what she had not dared to do the night +before;--measured it and weighed it; and then bowed her heart and head +to it in utter submission. With it came such a crowd of glad and good +things, things indeed that made the trial and were bound up with +it,--that Faith locked the one and the other up in her heart together. +And remembering too the sunshine of joy in which she had lately lived, +she humbly confessed that some check might be needed to remind her and +make her know that earth has not the best sunshine, and that any gain +would be loss that turned her eyes away from that best, or lessened her +sense of its brightness. + +So there came no shadow over her at all, either that day or afterwards. +The clear light of her face was not clouded, and her voice rung to the +same tune. There was no shadow, nor shade of a shadow. There _was_ a +little subdued air; a little additional gravity, a trifle more of +tenderness in her looks and ways, which told of the simpleness of heart +with which she had quietly taken what God gave and was content with it. + +To Mr. Linden the trial was not new, and to sorrow of various kinds he +was wonted; but it was new to him to see her tried, and to that he +found it hard to accustom himself. Yet he carried out his words,--Faith +could feel a sort of atmosphere of bright strength about her all the +time. How tenderly she was watched and watched over she could partly +see, but pain or anxiety Mr. Linden kept to himself. He set himself to +work to make her enjoy every minute. Yet he never shunned the subject +of his going away,--he let her become used to the sound of the words, +and to every little particular connected with it--they were all told +her by degrees; but told with such bright words of hope and trust, that +Faith took the pain as it were diluted. + +Before all this had gone far--indeed not many days after the first +telling of his story, Faith had come down as usual one early morning to +her work. She had been down about an hour, when she heard the door open +and Mr. Linden came in. He had two seconds' view of the picture before +she rose up to meet him. There was no lamp yet burning in the room. A +fire of good hard wood threw its light over everything, reflected back +from the red curtains which fell over the windows. In the very centre +of the glow, Faith sat on a low cushion, with her book on a chair. She +was dressed exactly, for nicety, as if she might have been going to +Judge Harrison's to tea. And on the open pages, and on Faith's bright +hair, edging her ruffles, and warming up her brown dress, was the soft +red fall of the firelight. She rose up immediately with her usual glad +look, behind which lay a doubtful surmising as to his errand. It was on +her lips to ask what had brought him down so early, but she was +prudently silent. He came forward quick and quietly, according to his +wont, not at all as if she were about anything unusual, and giving her +one of those greetings which did sometimes betray the grave feeling he +kept so well in hand, he brought her back to the fire. + +"Little bird," he said, "what straws are you weaving in at present?" + +"I don't know. Not any--unless thoughts." + +"Will it please you to state what you are doing?" + +"I was reading. I had just got to the end of the story of Moses +blessing Israel. I was thinking of these words--" and she took up her +book and shewed him. "Happy art thou, O Israel, saved of the Lord, the +shield of thy help, and who is the sword of thy excellency." + +"Did you ever look out any of the answering passages in other parts of +the Bible?" + +"Not often. I don't know them. Once in a while I think of one. And then +they are so beautiful!" + +Mr. Linden took the book from her hand, turning from place to place and +reading to her. + +"'Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in +the Lord his God: which made heaven, and earth, the sea, and all that +therein is: which keepeth truth forever.' That is what David +said,--then hear how Isaiah answers--'Behold, God is my salvation; I +will trust, and not be afraid: for the LORD JEHOVAH is my strength and +my song; he also is become my salvation.'--And again--'Israel shall be +saved in the Lord with an everlasting salvation: ye shall not be +ashamed nor confounded, world without end.'" + +Faith drew a little quick breath. + +"Doesn't it seem," she said, "as if words were heaped on words to +prevent our being afraid?" + +"I think it really is so; till we have a shield of promises as well as +protection. After Abraham had gone out of his own country, 'not knowing +whither he went', 'the word of the Lord came to him, saying, Fear not, +Abraham, I am thy shield and thy exceeding great reward.' Then David +takes that up and expatiates upon it,--finding in it 'both things +present and things to come,' dear Faith." + +"'For the Lord God is a sun and a shield: the Lord will give grace and +glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly. O +Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.'" + +She looked down at the words, then up at him with a glad, sunshiny +light in her eyes. Her comment on the whole was heartfelt, and +comprehensive. "How good it was you came down this morning!" + +"Would you like to have me come every morning?" + +"Oh how much!--But that's no use, Endecott." + +"Why not?" + +"I mustn't get to depending upon you too much," she said with a smile. + +"What had you been musing about--to make you so glad this morning?" he +said looking at her. + +"Nothing!--but those passages as you read them one after the other were +so beautiful, and felt so strong.--It was a great pleasure to hear you +read them,"--she said dropping her voice a little in confession. + +"It shall be as you like, darling, about my coming again. But dear +Faith, of this other morning work you must let me say a word." + +"What, Endecott?" + +"You are doing too much." + +"No. What makes you think so?" + +Significantly Mr. Linden laid his hand on the pile of study books. + +"Well?" + +"Well.--For the future please to let these gentry rest in peaceful +seclusion until after breakfast." + +"Oh no, Endy!" + +"My dear, I shall have you turning into a moonbeam. Just imagine what +it would cost me to call you 'pale Cynthia'!" + +"You needn't imagine it, Endecott." + +"Only so far as to prevent the reality. Do you know I have been afraid +of this for some time." + +"Of what?" + +"Afraid that you were disregarding the bounds I have laid down for +study and the sun for sleep." + +"I didn't know you had laid down any bounds," she said gaily +again--"and I never did mind the sun." + +"Well won't you mind me?" said he smiling. "I have a right to expect +that in study matters, you know." + +"Don't try me--" said Faith, very winningly, much more than she knew. +He stood looking at her, with the sweet unbent expression which was her +special right. + +"Faith, don't you mean to love to have me take care of you?" + +That brought a change of look, and it was curious to see the +ineffectual forces gather to veil what in spite of them wreathed in her +smile and laid an additional roseleaf upon each cheek. The shy eyes +retreated from view; then they were raised again as she touched his arm +and said, with a demure softness, "What must I do, Endy?" + +"Be content with the old study hours, my dear child. They are long +enough, and many enough." + +"Oh Endy!--not for me." + +"For thee." + +Faith looked down and looked disturbed. + +"Then, Endecott, I sha'n't be as wise as I want to be,--nor as you want +to have me." + +"Then you will be just as wise as I want you to be," he said with a +smile. "As to the rest, pretty child,--do you mean that my wife shall +deprive me of my scholar?" + +Faith turned away and said rather quickly, "Endy, how did you know?" + +"From some lesson evidence. And I always hear you come down--and whiles +I see a face at breakfast which has not lately come from rest." + +Faith's secret thought was that it was better than rest. But after +folding her hands with a grave face, she looked up at Mr. Linden with a +smile which yielded the whole question. + +"To prove to you what a naughty child you have been," said Mr. Linden, +"I shall give you an increase of outdoor lessons, and take you off on +an expedition the first mild day. On which occasion you may study +me--if you have any of Miss Essie's curiosity." + +"Don't I?" said Faith. "And I am going to do it more. What expedition +are you going on, Endecott?" + +"Up to Kildeer river--I have business there. Will you trust yourself to +me in a boat--if I will let you steer?" + +"I'll do anything to go," said Faith. "And I suppose if I steered +wrong, the helm would come about pretty quick!" And so ended her last +early morning studies. + +It was in the afternoon of the same day that Faith put in practice what +she had been thinking of when she avowed her determination of further +studying Mr. Linden. He had come home from school, and it was the dusky +hour again; the pleasant interregnum between day and night when even +busy folk take a little time to think and rest. Mr. Linden was +indulging in both apparently; he was in one of those quiet times of +doing nothing which Faith chose for making any of her very gentle +attacks upon him. One seemed to be in meditation now. She stole up +behind him and leaned down on the back of his chair, after her wont. + +"Endecott"--she said softly. + +Faith's voice was in ordinary a pleasant thing to hear; but this name +from her lips was always a concretion of sweetness, flavoured +differently as the case might be. Sometimes with mere gladness, +sometimes with the spirit of fun, often enough with a little timidity, +and sometimes with a rose-drop from the very bottom of her heart's +well; with various compounds of the same. But this time it was more +than timidity; Faith's one word was spoken as from lips that were +positively afraid to follow it with others. + +"That note," said Mr. Linden smiling, "seems to come from the top of a +primeval pine tree--with a hawk in sight! Little bird, will you please +come down into the lower regions of air?--where you can be +(comparatively) safe." + +Faith laughed; but the hawk remained in sight--of her words. + +"You said this morning I never asked you any but impossible things." + +"Most sorrowfully true!--have you another one ready?" + +"If I ask you something possible, what will you do?" she said, softly +touching the side of his head with her hand. It was Faith's utmost +freedom; a sort of gentle admiring touch of her fingers which the thick +locks of hair felt hardly more than a spider's feet. + +"That depends so much upon the thing!" he said, half turning to give +her the look which belonged to his words. "There are such a variety of +ways in which I might deal with it--and with you." + +"I am not going to ask you anything but what would be right." + +"You do not doubt that my answer will be conformable?" + +"Yes I do. It will be your 'right,' but it may not be my 'right,' you +know." + +"If you get what is not your right, you ought to be contented," said +Mr. Linden. + +"Now you have turned me and my meaning round! Endecott--you know Aunt +Dilly gave me something?--mayn't I--won't you let me lend it to you?" + +Very low and doubtfully the words came out! But if Faith had any more +to say, she had little chance for a while. One quick look round at her +Mr. Linden gave, but then he sprang up and came to where she stood, +lifting her face and giving her her "right" in one sense at least. +Other answer he made none. + +"Endy--have I asked a possible thing this time?" she said under breath. + +"My precious child!--Do you think it possible?" + +"It ought to be possible, Endecott." And if ever an humble suggestion +of a possibility was made, Faith made it then. + +"I shall have to go back to my first answer," said Mr. Linden,--"I have +no words for any other. Faith, dearest--don't you know that it is not +needful? Will that content you, little sweet one?" + +A soft "no." + +"Why not?" he said, making good his threat. "What do you want me to +have more than I need?" + +"I fear the ways you will take to make that true. I should think you +might, Endecott!"--The ellipsis was not hard to supply. + +"I shall not take any unlawful means--nor any unwise ones, I hope," he +said lightly. "What are you afraid I shall do?" + +"Get up early in the morning," she whispered. + +"But that is so pleasant! Do you suppose I get up late now, little +bird?" + +"Not late, with breakfast at seven. How early do you?" + +"Philosophically early! Do you know you have not had your poem +to-day?--what shall it be? sunrise or sunset?" + +"Which you please," she said gently, with the tone of a mind upon +something else. Mr. Linden looked down at her in silence for a minute. + +"Dear Faith," he said, "I told you truly that there is no need. This +year's work has done quite as much as I thought it would. What are you +afraid of?" + +"I am not afraid of much," she said, looking up at him now with a clear +brow. "But Endy, I have changed my mind about something. Could you +easily come down and read with me a little while every morning?--or are +you busy?" + +"I am never too busy to spend time with you, my child,--that is one +piece of pleasure I shall always allow myself. At what hour shall I +come?" + +"At six o'clock, can you?" said Faith. "If you gave me a quarter of an +hour then, I should still have time enough for breakfast work. This +morning I was afraid--but I was foolish. This evening I want all I can +get. And when you read me a _ladder of verses_ again," she said +smiling, "I shall mark them in my Bible, and then I shall have them by +and by--when you are gone." + +"Yes, and I can send you more. It is good to go up a ladder of Bible +verses when one is afraid--or foolish," he said gently and answering +her smile. "One end of it always rests on earth, within reach of the +weakest and weariest." + +"That is just it! Oh Endy," she said, clasping her hands sadly and +wishfully before her and her eyes tilling as she spoke--"I wish there +were more people to tell people the truth!" + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + +It was a fair, fair May morning when Mr. Linden and Faith set forth on +their expedition to Kildeer river. After their early rising and early +breakfast, they took their way down to the shore of the Mong, where the +little sail-boat lay rocking on the incoming tide, her ropes and +streamers just answering to the morning breeze. The soft spring +sunlight glinted on every tree and hillside. The "Balm of a Thousand +Flowers"--true and not spurious--was sprinkled through the air, under +the influence of which unseen nectar the birds became almost +intoxicated with joy; pouring out their songs with a sort of +spendthrift recklessness,--the very fish caught the infection, and +flashed and sparkled in the blue water by shoals at a time. + +In the sailboat now stood baskets and shawls, a book or two, an empty +basket for wild flowers, and by the tiller sat Faith--invested with her +new dignity but not yet instructed therein. Mr. Linden stood on the +shore, with the boat's detaining rope in his hand, looking about him as +if he had a mind to take the good of things as he went along. Up the +hill from the shore, trotted Jerry and Mr. Skip. + +"Endecott," said Faith joyously,--"Goethe would have more than enough +if he was here." + +She was not a bad part of the picture herself; fair and glad as she +looked, as fair as the May morning and the birds and the sunlight.-- + +"Isn't this air sweet?" + +"Very! But Goethe would choose my point of view. So much depends, in a +picture, upon the principal light!" + +"I wonder which is the principal light to-day!" said Faith laughing. +"How it sparkles all over the river, and then on the young leaves and +buds;--and then soft shining on the clouds. And they are all May! Look +at those tiny specks of white cloud scattered along the horizon, up +there towards Neanticut." + +"The principal light to-day," said Mr. Linden, "is one particular +sunbeam, which as it were leads off the rest. It's a fair train, +altogether!" and he threw the rope into the little vessel, and jumped +in himself; then lifting Faith a little from her place, and arranging +and disposing of her daintily among shawls and cushions, and putting +her unwonted fingers upon the tiller. + +"Now Miss Derrick," he said, "before we go any further, I should like +to know your estimate and understanding of the power at present in your +hands." + +"I know what a rudder is good for," said Faith merrily. "I know that +this ship, 'though it be so great, and driven of fierce winds, yet is +it turned about with a very small helm whithersoever the governor +listeth.' That is what you may call theoretical knowledge." + +"Clearly your estimate covers the ground! But you perceive, that while +you take upon yourself the guiding of the boat--(if I might venture to +suggest!--our course lies up the Mong, and not out to sea)--I, with my +sail, control the motive power." + +"You mean that if I don't go right, you'll drop the sail?"-- + +"Not at all!--I shall navigate, not drift. Do you suppose I shall +surrender at the first summons?" + +"What would you consider a 'summons'?" said Faith with a funny look. "I +don't think your sail can do much against my rudder." + +"My sail regulates the boat's headway--which in its turn affects the +rudder. (If we run down those fishermen the damages may be heavy.) But +you see I have this advantage,--I know beforehand your system of +navigation--you don't know mine. Let me inform your unpractised eyes, +Miss Derrick, that the dark object just ahead of us is a snag." + +"My eyes don't see any better for that information," said Faith; with +great attention however managing to guide their little craft clear of +both snag and fishermen, and almost too engaged in the double duty to +have leisure for laughing. But practice is the road to excellence and +ease; Faith learned presently the correspondence between the rudder and +her hand, and in the course of a quarter of an hour could keep the +north track with tolerable steadiness. The wind was fair for a straight +run up the Mong. The river stretching north in a diminishing blue +current (pretty broad however at Pattaquasset and for some miles up) +shewed its low banks in the tenderest grading of colour; very softly +brown in the distance, and near the eye opening into the delicate hues +of the young leaf. The river rolled its bright blue, and the +overarching sky was like one of summer's. Yet the air was not +so,--spicy from young buds; and the light was _Springy_; not Summer's +ardour nor Summer's glare, but that loveliest promise of what is coming +and oblivion of what is past. So the little boat sailed up the Mong. +Mr. Linden's sail was steady, Faith's rudder was still. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said suddenly, "have you made up your mind to my +letter plan?" + +"About Reuben? O yes. I am willing." + +"You know you are to send me every possible question that comes up in +the course of your studies, and every French exercise, and every doubt +or discomfort of any kind--if any should come. I shall not be easy +unless I think that." + +"But you won't have time for my French exercises!" + +"Try me. And you are to take plenty of fresh air, and not a bit of +fatigue; and in general are to suppose yourself a rare little plant +belonging to me, which I have left in your charge for the time being. +Do you understand, Mignonette?" + +Her blush and smile, of touched pleasure, shewed abundance of +understanding. + +"But I want you to tell me, Endecott, all the things in particular you +would like to have me do or attend to while you are away--besides my +studies. I have been thinking to ask you, and waiting for a good time." + +"'All the things'?--of what sort, dear child?" + +"Aren't there some of your poor people you would like to have +particularly attended to? I could get Reuben to go with me, you know, +where it was too far for me to go alone--or mother." + +"Yes, there are some things you might do," said Mr. Linden, "for me and +for them, though more in the way of sending than going; the places are +too far off. But I should like to know that Mrs. Ling's mother had a +bunch of garden flowers now and then, and that another went to that +little lame girl on the Monongatesak road; and once in a great while +(not often, or they will lose their charm) you may send the Roscoms two +fresh eggs!--not more, on any account. Reuben will go for you, +anywhere--and the Roscoms are old protégées of his." + +"I didn't mean to forget the Roscoms," said Faith. "But must one manage +with them so carefully?" + +"In matter of favours, yes. And even in matter of visits, to a certain +degree,--their life is so monotonous that novelty has a great charm. +Reuben used to go and read to them almost every day on his way from +school, but I found it best to make my coming an event." + +"Can I do anything for Reuben?" + +"Nothing new that I know of, at present--you are doing something for +him all the while,--and it will be a wonderful delight to him to bring +you letters. Then if you are ever driving down that Monongatesak road, +with nothing to hinder, take the little lame child with you for a mile +or two,--she so pines to be out of the house and moving. Would it be +disagreeable to you?--there is nothing but what is pleasant in her +appearance." + +"What if there were?" she said with a wistful look at him. "Do _you_ +mind disagreeablenesses? and do you want to have me mind them?" + +"No, dear child, but you must get wonted by degrees,--and some +temperaments can never bear what others can. What if we were to +overhaul those fishermen?" + +"What do you want?" said Faith, as she carefully set the boat's head +that way. "A fish for dinner?" + +"No"--said Mr. Linden,--"I have too much respect for that basket at my +feet. But you know, Faith, we are having a sort of preliminary +play-practice at seeking our fortune, to-day--we must carry it out. +Just imagine, my dear, that we are adrift in this boat, with nothing at +all for dinner, and supper a wild idea!--not the eastern fisherman who +for four fish received from the Sultan four hundred pieces of gold, +would then appear so interesting as these." + +"If you wanted dinner from them--but you say you don't," said Faith +laughing. "Endecott, I don't understand in the least! And besides, you +said you wouldn't 'drift' but navigate!" + +And her soft notes rolled over the water, too soft to reach the yet +somewhat distant fishermen. + +"And so because I turn navigator you turn Siren!" said Mr. Linden. "But +I have you safe in my boat--I need not stop to listen." + +"But what did you mean?" + +"By what?" + +"All that." + +"Short and comprehensive!" said Mr. Linden--"come up on the other side, +Faith, the current is less strong. All about seeking our fortune, do +you mean? Did you never hear of any other extraordinary prince and +princess who did the same?" + +"If I am not adrift in the boat, I am in my wits!" said Faith,--"and +with no sail nor rudder either. Why are those fishermen interesting, +Endecott?" + +"Why my child," he said, "in the supposititious case which I put, they +were interesting as having fish, while we had none. But in the +reality--they were picturesque in the distance,--what they are near by +we will see," he added with a smile at her, as the sail came round and +the little boat shot up alongside of her rough-looking relation. "Well +friends, what cheer?--besides a May morning and a fair wind?" + +The fishermen slowly dragging their net, hoarsely speculating on its +probable weight of fish, paused both their oars and tongues and looked +at him. One of the men had the oars; the other at the end of the boat +was hauling in, hand over hand. + +"That's about all the cheer you want, I guess,--aint it?" said this +man. It was said freely enough, but with no incivility. + +"Not all _I_ want," said Mr. Linden,--while the oarsman, rolling his +tobacco in his mouth, came out with-- + +"Shouldn't wonder, now, if 'twan't much in your line o' +business!--guess likely you be one o' the mighty smart folks that don't +do nothin'." + +"I've no objection to being 'mighty smart'," said Mr. Linden, belaying +his rope with a light hand, "but I shouldn't like to pay such a price +for it. Smartness will have to come down before I'm a purchaser." + +The man looked at him with a queer little gleam crossing his face-- + +"Shouldn't wonder if you hadn't took it when it was down!" he said. + +"It's a great thing to know the state of the market," said Mr. Linden. +"I suppose you find that with your fish." + +"Gen'lly do, when we take 'em,"--said the man at the net, who never +took his eye off the overhauling boat and its crew. He was not a young +man, but a jovial-looking fellow. "What fish be _you_ arter, stranger?" + +"Somewhat of a variety," Mr. Linden said with a smile. "What makes the +fish come into your net?" + +"Haven't an idee!" said the man--"without it bees that fish is very +onintelligent creturs. I don't suppose fish has much brains, sir. And +so they goes further and fares worse." Which statement of the case he +appeared to think amusing. + +"But then why do they sometimes stay out?" said Mr. Linden,--"because I +have read of men who 'toiled all the night and caught nothing'." + +"Wall, you see," said the fisher, "they goes in shoals or flocks like, +and they's notional. Some of 'em won't come at one time o' tide, and +some won't come at another--and they has their favourite places too. +Then if a man sets his nets where the fish _aint_, all creation might +work and catch nothin'. This side the river is better now than over +there." + +"These men that I was talking of," said Mr. Linden, "once found a +difference even between the two sides of their ship. But the other +time, when they had caught nothing all the night, in the morning they +caught so many that their net broke and both their ships began to sink." + +"What kind o' folks was them?" said the oarsman a little scornfully. + +"Why they were fishermen," said Mr. Linden. "They followed your calling +first, and then they followed mine." + +"What's yourn?" said the other, in his tone of good-humoured interest. +"Guess you're a speaker o' some sort--aint ye?" + +"Yes--" Mr. Linden said, with a little demure gesture of the head,--"I +am--'of some sort,' as you say. But I've got an account of these men in +my pocket--don't you want to hear it?--it's more interesting than any +account you could have of me." + +"Like to hear it well enough--" said the man at the net, setting +himself astride the gunwale to listen, with the net hanging from his +hand. + +"I wouldn't mind knowing how they worked it--" said the other man, +while Mr. Linden threw a rope round one of the thole-pins of the +fishing boat and gave the other end to Faith, and then took out his +book. And Faith was amused at the men's submissive attention, and the +next minute did not wonder at all!--as she noted the charm that held +them--the grace of mingled ease, kindliness, and power, in Mr. Linden's +manner and presence. Nothing could have greater simplicity, and it was +not new to Faith, yet she looked at him as if she had never seen him +before. + +"A great many years ago," he said, "when the Son of God, our Lord Jesus +Christ, was in this world, he went about healing sick people, and +teaching every one the way to heaven; and the people came in great +numbers to hear him. + +"'And it came to pass, that, as the people pressed upon him to hear the +word of God, he stood by the lake of Gennesareth, and saw two ships +standing by the lake; but the fishermen were gone out of them, and were +washing their nets.'" + +"We wash our'n by pullin' 'em through the water," said the net man. + +"The Lord entered one of the ships, which belonged to a man named +Simon, and asked him to push out a little from the shore. 'And he sat +down, and taught the people out of the ship. Now, when he had left +speaking, he unto Simon, Launch out into the deep, and let down your +nets for a draught. And Simon answering, said unto him, Master, we have +toiled all the night, and have taken nothing; nevertheless, at thy word +I will let down the net.'" + +"In course! whether 'twas any use or not,"--the man with the net said +approvingly. "So he had oughter." + +"Yes, and he knew it would be of use in some way, for God never gives a +command without a reason. And when they had let down the net, 'they +enclosed a great multitude of fishes: and their net brake. And they +beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other ship, that they +should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so +that they began to sink.'" + +"That was a bigger haul than ever I see, yet," remarked the man. + +"Neither had Simon ever seen anything like it--he knew that it was +brought about by the direct power of God. + +"When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, 'Depart +from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord.' For he was astonished, and all +they that were with him, at the draught of the fishes which they had +taken." + +"Can't see what he said _that_ fur," said the oarsman. + +"No more don't I!" said the other. "He had got a good haul o' fish, +anyway--if he was ever so!--and we aint none of us white lilies." + +"But then Peter knew that he ought to be a white lily--and such a new +view of God's power and greatness made him feel it more than ever. So +that he was both afraid and ashamed,--he thought himself unworthy to +have the Lord in his ship, and was afraid to have him stay there." + +"I wouldn't have asked him to go out, if he had been in mine,--_I_ +don't think!"--said the elder fisher slowly. "I don't see as that chap +need to ha' been afeard--he hadn't done nothin' but good to him." + +"But it's what we do ourselves that makes us afraid," said Mr. Linden. +"So it was with Adam and Eve in the garden, you know--God had talked to +them a great many times, and they were never afraid till they disobeyed +him--then the moment he spoke they ran and hid themselves." + +The oarsman was silent, the other man gave a sort of grunt that +betokened interest. + +"What shines had this feller been cuttin' up?" + +"Why!" said Mr. Linden, starting up and taking his stand by the mast, +as the little boat curtseyed softly over the waves, "if you tell one of +your boys always to walk in one particular road, and you find him +always walking in another--I don't think it matters much what he's +doing there, to him or to you." + +"Wall?"--said the man, with a face of curiosity for what was to come +next, mingled with a certain degree of intelligence that would not +confess itself. + +"Well--Peter knew he was not in the way wherein the Lord commands us +all to walk." + +"I guess every feller's got to pick out his own road for himself!" said +the fisher, pulling up a foot or two of his net carelessly. + +"That's what Peter had thought,--and so he had lived, just as he chose. +But when he saw more of the glory of God, then he was afraid and +confessed his sin. And what do you suppose the Lord said to him then?" + +"What did Peter own up to?" + +"The account gives only the general confession--that he was a sinful +man, not worthy to have the Lord look upon him except in anger. You see +he falls down at his feet and prays him to depart--he could not believe +that the Lord would stay there to speak good to him." + +"Well--what _did_ he say to him?" + +"'He said unto him, Fear not'. And no one need fear, who humbly +confesses his sins at the feet of Jesus, 'for if we confess our sins, +he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from +all unrighteousness.' Then the Lord bade Simon and all his companions +to follow him--and they obeyed. And now I want to tell you what this +following means." + +He put one arm round the mast, half leaning against it, and gave them +what Faith would have called a 'ladder'--passing from the 'Follow me,' +spoken to Peter,--to the young man who being bid to follow, 'went away +sorrowful',--to the description of the way given in the tenth chapter +of John,--to the place whither the flock follow Christ-- + +"'And I looked, and lo, a Lamb stood on the mount Zion, and with him an +hundred forty and four thousand, having his Father's name written in +their foreheads.' 'These are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever +he goeth.'"-- + +The men listened, open-mouthed and with intent eyes;--partly to the +speaker, it was evident, and partly to what the speaker said. And that +his words took hold, it was also evident. When he ceased, the man at +the net dropped his eyes for a moment, a curious look of meditation +covering his face. + +"It's easy to talk of follerin'," he said with a half laugh which was +not of carelessness,--"and one might like to,--but it's plaguey hard to +know where to start!--" + +"It's easy for God to teach you and easy to ask him to do it. If it was +anything else you wanted to do, you would not stop trying till you +found out," said Mr. Linden--"and that is just the way here. Now I am +going to give you a copy of all this," he said, throwing his own little +Bible softly into Faith's lap and stepping forward to the prow of the +boat (which she thought held only lunch baskets)--"and I shall turn +down a leaf at the story of the net full of good fishes--and another at +a place that tells of a net full 'of every kind, both bad and good.' +And I want you to read them, and think about them, and find out how to +follow Christ--and then come on!" He took his seat once more in the +stern of the boat, and held out the Bible to the fisherman. The other +man, slowly dipping his oars in and out, met his look too, but made no +answer. + +The man at the net took the book and turned over the leaves with a +wondering, considering air. + +"What do you reckon this here's worth?" he said somewhat awkwardly, +without raising his eyes from it. + +"Worth daily reading and study--worth all you have in the world, if you +will use it right," said Mr. Linden. "You need not think about any +other value--I had it in trust to give away." + +"I'm much obleeged to you,--I'll take a look at it now and then. Do you +live along here, anywheres?" + +"In Pattaquasset, just now," Mr. Linden said, as he prepared to make +sail again. "I don't very often come to this part of the river." + +"Well hold on!" said the man, beginning to pull in his net with great +vivacity,--"I'm bound to give you a fish--if I've got one here. Bear a +hand, Dick! Haint you got a place on board there that you can stow it, +without skeerin' the lady?"-- + +"I'll try to find one!" said Mr. Linden, answering the proposal just as +it was meant. "If the lady is scared she shall turn her face the other +way." + +"She'll turn it which way you say?--" ventured the fisher insinuatingly. + +Faith did not seem afraid of the fish, by the way she leaned over the +stern of the boat and eyed the up-coming nets which the men were +drawing in. She had listened to the foregoing talk, to the full as +intently as those for whom it was meant, and with a multitude of +interests at work in her mind and heart of which they had never +dreamed. And now her eye was bent on the net; but her thoughts were on +that other kind of fishing of which she had just seen an example--the +first she had ever seen of Mr. Linden's!--and her full heart was +longingly thinking, among other thoughts, of the few there were to draw +those nets, and the multitude to be drawn! What Faith saw in the meshes +the man's hands were slowly pulling up!-- + +But the fisherman only saw--what pleased him greatly, some very fine +fish; shad they were for the greater part; from which he selected a +noble specimen and cast it over into Mr. Linden's boat. Then standing +up in his own he wiped his hands on the sleeves of his coat. + +"Hope you'll come along again some day," said he. "And" (waggishly) +"don't come without the lady!"-- + +The rope was drawn in and the little skiff shot ahead smoothly and +silently from the great brown fishing boat and her equally brown +owners. Gliding on--watched for a little by the fishers, then their +attention was claimed by the flapping shad in the net, and the sail +boat set her canvas towards Kildeer river. Mr. Linden went forward and +bestowed his prisoner a little more out of sight and sound in some +place of safety, and then sitting down in the prow dipped his hands in +the blue water and took a survey of Faith, as she sat in the stern--the +tiller in her hand, the shadow of the sail falling partly across; the +spring zephyrs playing all about her. + +"Little bird," he said, "why don't you sing?" + +A smile of much and deep meaning went back from the stern to the prow; +but she presently made the somewhat obvious remark that "birds do not +always sing." + +"A melancholy fact in natural history! the truth of which I am just now +experiencing. What shall be done with them at these times--are they to +be coaxed--or chidden or fed with sponge cake? Have you got any in your +basket?" + +"Are you hungry?" said Faith. + +"Only for words--or songs--or some other commodity of like origin," Mr. +Linden said, coming back to his old place. "What shall I have?--if I +cannot get the two first?" + +"You might have a little patience?--" + +"'Patience', my dear, 'is a good root'--but nothing akin to sugar +canes." + +"There's no need of it, either," said Faith laughing,--"for _you_ can +sing if I can't." + +"No, there is no need of it, and therefore--Now, little bird, will you +please not to fly past the outlet of Kildeer river?" + +Laughing, colouring, Faith nevertheless bent a very earnest attention +upon this difficult piece of navigation. For the opening of Kildeer +river was as yet but slightly to be discerned;--a little break in the +smooth shore line,--a very little atmospheric change in the soft leafy +hues of the nearer and further point. Faith watched, as only a young +steersman does, for the time and place where her rudder should begin to +take cognizance of the approaching change of course. A little wider the +break in the shore line grew,--more plain the mark of a break in the +trees,--and almost suddenly the little stream unfolded its pretty reach +of water and woodland, stretching in alluringly with picturesque turns +of its mimic channel. Faith needed a little help now, for the river was +not everywhere navigable; but after a few minutes of pretty sailing +among care-requiring rocks and sand-banks, where the loss of wind made +their progress slow, the little skiff was safely brought to land at a +nice piece of gravelly shore. It was wonderful pretty! The trees with +their various young verdure came down to the water's edge, with many a +dainty tint; here one covered with soft catkins of flower,--there one +ruddy with not yet opened buds. The winding banks of the stream on one +hand; and on the other the little piece of it they had passed over, +with the breadth of the Mong beyond. Through all, May's air and +Spring's perfume, and the stillness of noonday. + + "Inverted in the tide + Stand the grey rocks, and trembling shadows throw. + And the fair trees look over, side by side, + And see themselves below." + + +So Mr. Linden told Faith, as he was putting his sail in trim repose, +and then--telling her that the guiding power was still in her hands, +requested to know what they should do next. + +"Why," said Faith merrily, "I thought you had business to attend to?" + +"I had--" said Mr. Linden,--"but I reflected that you would probably +give me full occupation, and so got rid of the business first." + +"Then you have nothing to do here?" + +"A great deal, I suppose; but I know not what." + +Faith fairly sat down to laugh at him. + +"What do you think of having lunch, and then going after flowers?" + +"I consider that to be a prudent, bird-like suggestion. Do you expect +me to cook this fish for you? or will you be content to take it home to +your mother, and let us feast upon-- + + "'Herbs, and such like country messes, + Which neat-handed Phyllis dresses'?" + + +"_Have_ you all the books in the world in your head?"--said Faith, +laughing her own little laugh roundly. "How plain it is Mr. Linden has +nothing to do to-day!--Would you like to help me to gather some sticks +for a fire, sir? I think you had better have something on your hands." + +"Do you?" he said lifting her out of the boat in his curiously quick, +strong, light way,--"that was something on my hands--not much. What +next?--do you say we are to play Ferdinand and Miranda?" + +Faith's eye for an instant looked its old look, of grave, intelligent, +doubtful questioning: but then she came back to Kildeer river. + +"I haven't played that play yet," she said gaily; "but if you'll help +me find some dry sticks--your reward shall be that you shall not have +what you don't like! I can make a fire nicely here, Endecott; on this +rock." + +"Then it was not about them you were reading in that focus of sunbeams?" + +"What?--" she said, looking. + +"Once upon a time--" Mr. Linden said smiling,--"when you and Shakspeare +got lost in the sunlight, and wandered about without in the least +knowing where you were." + +"When, Endecott?" + +"Leave that point," he said,--"I want to tell you about the story. +Ferdinand, whom I represent, was a prince cast away upon a desert +shore--which shore was inhabited by the princess Miranda, whom you +represent. Naturally enough, in the course of time, they came to think +of each other much as we do--perhaps 'a little more so' on the part of +Miranda. But then Miranda's father set Ferdinand to carrying wood,--as +you--acting conscientiously for Mrs. Derrick--do me." + +"I wonder if I ever shall understand you!" exclaimed Faith desperately, +as her laugh again broke upon the sweet air that floated in from the +Mong. "What has my conscience, or Mrs. Derrick, to do with our lunch +fire? Why was the other prince set to carrying wood?" + +"For the same reason that I am!" said Mr. Linden raising his eyebrows. +"To prove his affection for Miranda." + +How Faith laughed. + +"You are mistaken--O how mistaken you are!" she exclaimed. "It shews +that though you know books, you don't know everything." + +And running away with her own armful of sticks and leaves, back to the +rock spoken of near where the vessel lay, Faith was stopped and +relieved of her load, with such an earnest-- + + "'No, precious creature, + I'd rather crack my sinews, break my back, + Than you should such dishonour undergo'--" + +that she could do nothing but laugh, till the sticks were fairly on the +rock. Then Faith went to laying them daintily together. + +"I hope you've no objection to my making the fire," she said; "because +I like it. Only, Endecott! the matches are in the basket. Could you get +them for me? Indeed I shall want the basket too out of the boat." + +Whereupon Mr. Linden-- + + "'The very instant I saw you, did + My heart fly to your service: there reside, + To make me slave to it; and for your sake, + Am I this patient log man'!--" + + +But anything less like those two last words than the way in which he +sprang into the boat, and brought the basket, and got out what she +called for, could hardly be. + +"How many matches do you want?" he said, looking demurely at her as he +gave her one. + +"All of them,--basket and all, Endecott. You are so patient that you do +not hear." + +"And you so impatient that you do not see--'basket and all' are at your +side, fair princess.--Stand back,--it may be very well for the winds to +'blow, and crack their cheeks,' but I think it should be confined to +them." And she was laughingly held back, where she could only use her +eyes about the fire. + +"That's my province," said Faith. "I think any effort to make a +princess of me, will--fail. Did Miranda pick up any wood herself?" + +"You can't help being a princess if I am a prince," said Mr. Linden. + +"I don't see how it follows," said Faith. "Only let me get at that +fire, and the fancy will pass away. Endecott!--it is absolutely +necessary that some wood should be put on; and I don't believe princes +know how." + +"Princes," said Mr. Linden, holding her a little off with one hand, +while with the other he replenished the fire, "are especially famed for +their power of doing impossible things in desert places. And the +princess will follow--whether you can see it or not. Is that blaze +aspiring enough for you?" + +"Yes, but it needs to be kept up--I want a good bed of coals." + +A fine fire was on its way at last, and while waiting for it to burn +down to the desired bed of coals, the temporary prince and princess sat +down on the rock to feast their eyes in the mean time. A little past +midday, it was not the picturesque hour for another season; but now, in +the freshness of Spring, the delicate beauties of colour and light +could bear the full meridian sun and not ask for shadows to set them +off; other than the tender shade under the half-leaved trees. It was a +warm enough day too, and those same leaves were making a great spring +towards their full unfolding. Birds were twittering all around, and +they only filled up the silence. + +"Isn't it worth coming for!--" said Faith, when they had taken it all +in for a few minutes without interrupting the birds. + +"More than that--and the 'it' is very plural. Faith, do you see that +butterfly?"--A primrose-winged rover was meandering about in the soft +air before them, flitting over the buttercups with a listless sort of +admiration. + +"Poor thing, he has come out too soon," said Faith. "He will have some +frost yet, for so summery as it is to-day." But Faith gave a graver +look at the butterfly than his yellow wings altogether warranted. + +"Among the ancients," said Mr. Linden, "the word for a butterfly and +the word for the soul were the same,--they thought the first was a good +emblem of the lightness and airiness of the last. So they held, that +when a man died a butterfly might be seen flitting above his head. I +was thinking how well this one little thing shews the exceeding lowness +of heathen ideas." + +"Did they think the butterfly was his very spirit, in that form?" + +"I suppose so--or thought they did. But look at that creature's +wavering, unsteady flight; his aimless wanderings, anywhere or nowhere; +and compare it with the 'mounting up with wings as eagles', which a +Christian soul may know, even in this life,--compare it with the swift +'return to God who gave it'--with the being 'caught up to meet the +Lord' which it shall surely know at death." + +"And the butterfly isn't further from that," said Faith clasping her +hands together,--"than many a real, living soul in many a living +person!"-- + +"No, not further; and so what the old Greeks made an emblem of the +immortal soul, gives name, with us, to those persons who are most tied +down to mortality. What were you thinking of, a minute ago, when I +shewed you the butterfly?" + +"I was thinking of somebody that I am afraid a butterfly will always +remind me of,"--Faith answered with a slight colour;--"and of the time +he got the name." + +"He got it by favour of his office, you know--not otherwise." + +"I know--" + +But with that, Faith jumped up to see to the state of the fire; and +then after some conjuration in her basket produced a suspicious-looking +tin vessel, for which the proper bed of coals was found. Leaving it and +the fire to agree together, Faith came back to the rock and Mr. Linden +and stood a little while silently looking and breathing the sweetness. + +"I always did love everything in the world, that my eyes could see," +she said gravely. "But I love them so much more now!--now that the hand +that made them is not such a strange far-off hand to me. It makes a +kind of new world to me, Endecott." + +"Yes--and you can understand how--even without physical changes--when +we 'shall know as we are known,' the 'heavens and earth wherein +dwelleth righteousness' may be preëminently 'new'." + +Faith stood without reply a few minutes longer, then ran back to her +fire; and after a short space called to Mr. Linden to ask if he would +like to come and see what the prince had been picking up wood for? + +To which the prince responded with very un-royal alacrity, bringing a +well-put-together knot of buttercups to adorn one side of Miranda's +head; which he declared looked better than gold beads, if they didn't +cost as much. + +A napkin was spread on the rock, conveniently near to the fire; on +which plates and bread and a bottle of cream and a dainty looking pasty +were irregularly bestowed. Mr. Linden threw himself down on the moss; +and Faith had got a cup and saucer out of her basket and was just +sugaring and creaming the prince's reward before applying to her dish +on the fire for the crowning coffee; when her eye was caught by a +spectator lately come upon the scene. No other than a somewhat ragged +little boy, who eyeing them from the bank had been irresistibly lured +nearer and nearer, by the grace of the preparations and the steam of +the hot coffee perhaps, till he now stood by the trunk of the nearest +tree. + +"What are you doin'?" he said. + +"What are you?" said Mr. Linden, turning to look at the boy--not just +as _he_ looked at the coffee, but very much as the coffee looked at +him. "Did you never see people eat dinner?" + +The boy stood his ground with, "What you got?" + +"When was the last time?" said Mr. Linden. ("Princess--this may turn +out to be a subject!") + +"Last time _what?_" said the "subject" stoutly. + +"The last time you saw people eating dinner," said Mr. Linden. "Did you +ever go to the Museum?" + +"I've went to Pettibaug!"-- + +"When is the last time you saw people eating dinner?" said Faith. + +"We haint got none to our house." + +"What's the matter?" + +"Mintie said there warn't nothin' to eat and I might go a +blackberryin'." + +"You've come to the right place," said Mr. Linden,--"I don't believe +they're ripe anywhere else. Who is 'Mintie'? and who stays with her +while you're after blackberries?" + +"Mintie's sissy. There aint nobody stayin' with her--she's stayin' +along o' mother--when she's up." + +"Where is she?--I mean where does she live--and you, and Mintie. Where +is your house?" + +"Round there--'Taint fur. What you got?" + +Faith set down her cup and looked at Mr. Linden. + +"What is the matter with your mother?" + +"She's sick." + +"Well if I give you a basket, and this lady puts some dinner in it for +your mother and Mintie and you, do you think you can carry it home?" + +"Is your sister sick too?" said Faith. + +"She's got the fever nagur." + +"Endecott," said Faith softly,--"shall we go and see them?" + +"Yes, of course. What's your name, child?" + +"My name's Bob Tuck." + +Mr. Linden looked at him. + +"How comes it that you and Dromy are no more alike?" he said. + +"Mother says Dromy aint like nothin' _I_ be." + +"Well Bob Tuck," said Mr. Linden smiling, "have you got a broom at +home?" + +"There's two old ones." + +"Then if you will go home and sweep the floor as well as you can, with +the two old brooms, and set the table, I'll bring this lady to see you +and we'll carry the basket--(which means, Princess, that _I_ +will!)--and you can let the blackberries hang on till they get ripe. Do +you understand?" + +"If I'll sweep the floor, you'll fetch the basket?" said Bob. + +"Yes. And you can wash your hands nicely and be ready to help me take +the things out of it." + +Bob started. "How soon 'll you come?" + +"As soon as I finish my dinner." + +"How good it is I brought the whole pie!" said Faith, as she poured the +delayed coffee upon the cream and sugar. "And there's your shad, +Endecott! unless you prefer to take that home, and we'll send something +else.--Now you see what you picked up sticks for?" + +"I see--" Mr. Linden said, looking at her. "And you see, Princess, what +royalty is apt to meet if it will go wandering round the world." + +"What?" + +"Bob Tuck!--" + +"Well--it's a good thing for Bob Tuck to meet with royalty,"--said +Faith, looking at the pie Mr. Linden was cutting. + +"Princess," said Mr. Linden, "have you any 'Queen Anne' in your basket?" + +Faith looked, her merry, puzzled, grave look of inquiry,--and then +there was nothing for it but a ringing laugh again. + +"I would rather have that at a venture, if I were the sick one," said +Mr. Linden. "But the specific most prized by that class of the +population who have 'fever nagur', is called in their vernacular 'Queen +Anne'--anglice, quinine. Faith, you have no idea how those buttercups +are beautified!" + +"Flowers always are, that you handle," said Faith. + +"You see how appropriate they are to my Sunbeam--for + + 'The buttercup catches the sun in his chalice'." + + +"What is a chalice?" + +"A sort of cup--a church service cup, generally. Did you admire so much +the head of clover I gave you once down at the shore?" + +Faith gave him a curious glance of recollection; but though there was a +half smile on her face too, she remained silent. + +"Well, little bird?" he said smiling. "Of what is that look compounded?" + +"Various things, I suppose. Let me have your cup, Endecott?" + +"Do you know," he said, "that for a scholar, you +are--remarkably--unready to answer questions?" + +"I didn't know it." + +"Are you not aware of any class of recollective remarks or inquiries +which now and then break forth, and which you invariably smother with a +thick blanket of silence?" + +There was another quick glance and smile, and then Faith said as she +handed him his cup,-- + +"What do you want to know, Endecott?" + +"I want to know where there was ever just such another princess. And by +the way, speaking of the shore--I have something that belongs to her." + +"To me?" + +"Oui, mademoiselle." + +"May I know what?" + +"You may, yet not just now. You may guess what it is." + +But Faith gave up guessing in despair at one of Mr. Linden's puzzles. + +The basket was repacked when the lunch was done; and they set out on +their walk. The way, following Bob's direction, led along the bank +under the trees, turning a little before the Mong was reached. The +house was soon found; standing alone, in an enclosed garden ground +where no spade had been struck that season; and at the end of a farm +road that shewed no marks of travel. + +Bob had not only swept the room, but his tidings had roused apparently +his sister to prepare herself also; for Mintie met them as they came +in. She was a handsome girl, with a feverish colour in her cheeks that +made her appearance only more striking. There was pride and poverty +here, clearly. Faith's simple words neither assumed the one nor +attacked the other. The girl looked curiously at her and at the other +visiter. + +"Who be you?" + +"We do not live in this neighbourhood," said Faith. "We came up to +Kildeer river to-day, and met your little brother down by the shore." + +"What did he say to you?" + +"He told us you were sick and in want of help." + +Another look laid the girl's jealousy asleep. She told her story--her +father had died six months ago; she and her mother and brother lived +there alone. It was an "unlikely place to get to," and no neighbours +very near. Her mother had been sick abed for a number of weeks; and she +had had all to do, and now for a week past had been unable to do +anything, go to Pettibaug or anywhere else, to get what they wanted. +And so they "had got out of 'most everything." Dromy Tuck, Mr. Linden's +scholar, lived at Farmer Davids' in the capacity of farm-boy; Mrs. +Davids being a far-off connexion. + +So much was all pride permitted to be told. Without much questioning, +her visiters contrived to find out what they could do for her. Faith +put the coffee-pot on the fire, declaring that it would do Mintie good +like medicine; and served it to her when it was hot, with some bread +and chicken, as if it had been indeed medicine and Faith a doctor. Then +while Bob and she were dining, Faith went in to see the sick woman. +_She_ was much more communicative, and half avowed that she believed +what she wanted now was "nourishing things"--"but with me lyin' here on +my back," she said, "'taint so easy to find 'em." Faith gave her a cup +of coffee too and some bread; she had hardly drunk any herself at +lunch; and leaving her patient much inspirited, came back to Mr. Linden +in the other room. Apparently his words and deeds had been acceptable +too,--Bob's face was shining, not only with dinner but with the +previous cold water applications which Mr. Linden had insisted on, and +Mintie's mind was evidently at work upon various things. The basket was +soon emptied of all but its dishes, and the prince and princess went on +their way down the hill. + +"Faith," said Mr. Linden, "shall we go and sit in the boat for half an +hour, considering various things, and then have our wild flower hunt? +Or would you prefer that first?" + +"O no! I would rather have the half hour in the boat." + +It was good time yet in the afternoon, and though the little boat now +lay partly shadowed by the hill, it was none the worse resting place +for that. Again Faith was seated there in all the style that shawls and +cushions furnished, and just tired enough to feel luxurious in the soft +atmosphere. Mr. Linden arranged and established her to his liking; then +he took out of his pocket a letter. + +It was one which had been opened and read; but as he unfolded it, there +appeared another--unopened, unread; its dainty seal unbroken, and on +the back in fair tracery, the words, "Miss Faith Derrick." As Faith +read them and saw the hand, her eye glanced first up at Mr. Linden with +its mute burden of surprise, and then the roses bloomed out over her +cheeks and even threw their flush upon her brow. Her eye was cast down +now and fixed on the unopened letter, with the softest fall of its +eyelid. + +"Shall I read you a part of mine first?" + +"If you please. I wish you would." + +"Only a little bit," he said smiling--thinking perhaps that she did not +know to what she gave her assent so readily,--"you shall read the whole +of it another time." The "little bit" began rather abruptly. + + + +"'I have written to your darling, Endy--Not much, tell her; because +what I have in my heart for her cannot be told. I know how precious any +one must be whom you love so much. But make her love me a little before +she reads my letter--and don't let her call me anything but Pet--and +then I shall feel as if I had a sister already. And so I have, as you +say. What a glad word!--I could cry again with the very writing of it. + +'Endy--I did cry a little over your letter, but only for joy: if it had +been for sorrow I should have cried long ago; for I knew well enough +what was coming. Only I want more than ever to be at home,--and to see +you, and to see Faith--don't let her think I am like you! + +'My letter wouldn't hold much, as I told you. But I give you any number +of (unspeakable!) messages for her, John Endy. I suppose you will take +charge of them? I may feel sure they have all reached their +destination?'" + + + +Long before the reading was finished, Faith's head had sunk--almost to +the cushions beside her. The reader's voice and intonation had given +every word a sort of ring in her heart, though the tone was low. One +hand came round her when she put her head down, taking possession of +her hand which lay so still, with the unopened letter in its clasp. But +now she was gently raised up. + +"Precious child," Mr. Linden said, "what are you drooping your head +for?" + +"For the same reason she had, I suppose,--" said Faith half laughing, +though witnesses of another kind were in her eyes. + +"Who are you talking about?" + +"Your sister." + +"Why don't you begin to practise your lesson?" + +Perhaps Faith thought that she _was_. She looked at nothing but her +letter. + +"Will you wait for your messages till we get home?--this place not +being absolute seclusion." + +"Shall I read this now?" said Faith rather hastily. + +"I should think there would be no danger in that." + +With somewhat unsteady fingers, that yet tried to be quiet, Faith broke +the seal; and masking her glowing face with one hand, she bent over the +letter to read it. + + + +"My very dear, and most unknown, and most well-known little sister! I +have had a picture sent me of you--as you appeared one night, when you +sat for your portrait, hearing Portia; and with it a notice of several +events which occurred just before that time. And both picture and +events have gone down into my heart, and abide there. Endecott says you +are a Sunbeam--and I feel as if a little of the light had come over the +water to me,--ever since his letter came I have been in a state of +absolute reflection! + +"I thought my love would not be the first to 'find out the way'--even +then when I wrote it! Faith--do you know that there is nobody in the +world just like him? because if you do not--you will find it out!--I +mean! like Endecott--_not_ like Love. My dear, I beg pardon for my +pronoun! But just how _I_ have loved you all these months, for making +him so happy, I cannot tell you. + +"And I cannot write to-day--about anything,--my thoughts are in too +uneven a flow to find their way to the end of my pen, and take all +possible flights instead. Dear Faith, you must wait for a _letter_ till +the next steamer. And you cannot miss it--nor anything else, with +Endecott there,--it seems to me that to be even in the same country +with him is happiness. + +"You must love me too, Faith, and not think me a stranger,--and let me +be your (because I am Endy's) + +"PET." + + + +Faith took a great deal more time than was necessary for the reading of +this letter. Very much indeed she would have liked to do as her +correspondent confessed she had done, and cry--but there was no sign of +such an inclination. She only sat perfectly moveless, bending over her +letter. At last suddenly looked up and gave it to Mr. Linden. + +"Well?" he said with a smile at her as he took it. + +"You'll see--" she said, a little breathlessly. And still holding her +hand fast, Mr. Linden read the letter, quicker than she had done, and +without comment--unless when his look shewed that it touched him. + +"You will love her, Faith!" he said as he folded the letter up +again,--"in spite of all your inclinations to the contrary!" + +"Do you think that is in the future tense? But I am afraid," added +Faith,--"she thinks too much of me now." + +"She does not think as much of you as I do," Mr. Linden said, with a +look and smile that covered all the ground of present or future fear. +"And after all it is a danger which you will share with me. It is one +of Pet's loveable feelings to think too much of some people whom she +loves just enough." + +Humility is not a fearful thing. Whatever had been in Faith's speech, +her look, bright, wistful, and happy, had no fear, truly bumble though +it was. "There is no danger of my loving this letter too much"--she +said as she carefully restored it to its envelope; said with a secret +utterance of great gratification. + +The promised half hour was much more than up, and the broadening shadow +on Kildeer river said that the time which could be given to wild +flowers was fast running away. Perhaps, too, Mr. Linden thought Faith +had mused and been excited enough, for he made a move. Everything in +the boat was put up in close order, and then the two went ashore again, +flower basket in hand. + +The long shadows heightened the beauty of the woods now, falling soft +and brown upon the yet browner carpet of dry leaves, and the young +leaves and buds overhead shewed every tint, from yellow to green. Under +the trees were various low shrubs in flower,--shad-blossom, with its +fleecy stems, and azalia in rosy pink; and the real wild flowers--the +dainty things as wild in growth as in name, were sprinkled everywhere. +Wind flowers and columbine; orchis sweet as any hyacinth; tall +Solomon's seal; spotless bloodroot; and violets--white, yellow, and +purple. The dogwood stretched its white arms athwart hemlock and +service; the creeping partridge berry carried its perfumed white stars +over rocks and moss in the deep shade below. Yellow bellwort hung its +fair flowers on every ridge; where the ground grew wet were dog's-tooth +violet and chick wintergreen. There the red maples stood, with bunches +of crimson keys,--at the edge of the higher ground their humbler +growing sister the striped bark, waved her green tresses. There seemed +to be no end to the flowers--nor to the variety--nor to the pleasure of +picking. + +"Faith--" said Mr. Linden. + +Faith looked up from a bunch of Sanguinaria beside which she was +crouching. + +"I find so much Mignonette!--do you?" + +Faith's eye flashed, and taking one of those little white stars she +threw it towards Mr. Linden. It went in a graceful parabolic curve and +fell harmlessly, like her courage, at his feet. + +"What has become of the princess?" + +"You ought rather to ask after the prince!" said Mr. Linden, picking up +the Sanguinaria with great devotion. "Is this the Star of the Order of +Merit?" + +"I am not Queen Flora. I don't know." + +"As what then was it bestowed?" + +"It might be Mignonette's shield, which she used as a weapon because +she hadn't any other! Endy, look at those green Maple flowers! You can +reach them." + +He gathered some of the hanging clusters, and then came and sat down +where she was at work and began to put them into her basket, arranging +and dressing the other flowers the while dextrously. + +"Do you know, my little Sunbeam," he said, "that your namesakes are +retreating?" + +"I know it, Endy," she said hastening her last gatherings--"and I am +ready." + +They began their homeward way to the boat, wandering a little still, +for flowers, and stopping to pick them, so that the sun was quite low +before Kildeer river was reached. There Mr. Linden stood a moment +looking about. + +"Do you see the place where we sat, Faith?" he said,--"over on the +other bank?" + +She looked, and looked at him and smiled--very different from her look +then! A glance comprehensive and satisfactory enough without words, so +without any more words they went on their way along the shore of the +river. As they neared their boat, the rays of the setting sun were +darted into Kildeer river and gilded the embayed little vessel and all +the surrounding shores. Rocks and trees and bits of land glowed or +glistened in splendour wherever a point or a spray could catch the sun; +the water in both rivers shone with a long strip of gold. They had had +nothing so brilliant all day. + +In the full glow and brightness Faith sat down in the boat with her +flowers near her, and Mr. Linden loosened the sail. How pretty the bank +looked as they were leaving it! the ashes of their fire on the rock, +and the places where they had sat or wandered, and talked--such happy +words! + +"I shall always love Kildeer river," said Faith with little long +breath, "because I read my letter here." + +"And so shall I," said Mr. Linden,--"but my love for it dates back to +the first piece of reading I ever did in its company." He looked back +for a minute or two--at the one shore and the other--the sunlight, the +trees, the flowery hillside, and it was well then that his face was not +seen by Faith--there fell on it such a shadow of pain. But he presently +turned to her again with just the former look. + +"Now," he said, "do you think you can steer home in the twilight?" + +"I don't know. Can I? I can follow directions." + +"And I can give them." + +And with that arrangement they ran out from the clean woody shores of +Kildeer river, and set their sail for Pattaquasset. How fair, at that +point of weather and day! a little quieter than the morning spring-tide +of everything, but what was less gay was more peaceful; and against a +soft south wind the little boat began to beat her way down, favoured +however by the tide. These tacks made Mr. Linden's counsels more +especially needed, but the short swift runs back and forth across the +river were even more inspiriting than a steady run before the wind, and +the constant attention which helm and sail required made talk and +action lively enough. + +"This is good, Endecott!" said Faith as the little boat came about for +the fifth or sixth time. + +"Faith," he said, smiling at her, "you look just as fresh as a +rose!--the day does not seem to have tired you one bit." + +"Tired!" she said,--"yes, I am a little bit tired--or hungry--but was +there ever such a day as we have had?--since the first of January!" + +"My dear little Mignonette!" Mr. Linden said--but if it was a "message" +Faith had then, it came from somewhere nearer than across the water. +"If you are tired, dear child, give up the rudder to me, and lay down +your head and rest. Do you see after what a sleep-inviting fashion the +lights are twinkling all down the shore?" + +"I'm not sleepy a bit;" said Faith,--"nor tired, except just enough; +and I like this small portion of power you have put in my hands. How +beautiful those lights look!--and the lights overhead, Endy. How +beautiful every thing is!"-- + +"Yes," said Mr. Linden, "when there is light within.-- + + 'He that hath light within his own clear breast, + May sit i' the centre and enjoy bright day.'" + + +"That's beautiful!" said Faith after a pause. + +And now the brush and stir of "coming about" again claimed their +attention, and in a minute more they were stretching away on a new +tack, with another set of constellations opposite to them in the sky. +The breeze was fresh, though as mild as May; the boat made good speed; +and in spite of beating down the river the mouth of the Mong was neared +fast. Pattaquasset lights, a little cluster of them, appeared +unmistakably; for down by the point there was a little knot of houses, +variously concerned in trade or fisheries. Mr. Linden had to put his +hand upon the tiller sometimes then, till they got in. Mr. Skip and +Jerry were in waiting; had been, "a sight o' half hours," the former +stated. Baskets and shad and passengers were transferred to the wagon, +and within a moderate time thereafter welcomed (the latter) by Mrs. +Derrick and supper--wherein, after a little delay therefor, the shad +played a conspicuous and most satisfactory part. + +Now there are no shad like the shad that come out of the Mong. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + + +So passed the days. Not indeed all at Kildeer river, but all in sweet, +peaceful, bright occupations, whether of work or play. The trustees had +received their notice, with much dismay; a little alleviated by the +fact that Mr. Linden was willing to stay at his post for a few weeks +after the end of the year. + +It was almost a wonder, as the weeks went on, that Mr. Linden kept down +the shadows as well as he did,--to leave Faith in the morning, and go +to his devoted set of scholars--every one of whom had some particular +as well as general hold on him and love for him; and then to get away +by the hardest from their words and looks of sorrow and regret, and +come back to the presence of her brave little face--Mr. Linden was +between two fires. And they wrought a sort of deepening of everything +about him which was lovely or loveable--which did not make it easier +for Pattaquasset to let him go. + +As far as anybody could be a help to him, Faith was one. In a +gentleness of spirit that was of no kin to weakness, she took to her +heart the good that she had, and was quite as much of a sunbeam as +ever. How it would be when Mr. Linden was gone, Faith did not know; but +she did know that that was one of to-morrow's cares, with which she had +no business to-day. If the thought ever came up in its strength, strong +enough to bring down her heart and head,--if there were times when +Faith shewed herself to herself--the revelation was made to no other +person. And therefore it is probable that it was a view she did not +often indulge in. + +Dr. Harrison was not much at Pattaquasset these days He found it +convenient to be away. + +Dr. Harrison was a man who did not like to throw away his ammunition. +He by no means absented himself because of any failing in his fancy for +somebody in Pattaquasset; the working of cause and effect was on a +precisely opposite principle. The truth was, the fancy had grown to a +strength that would not well bear the doubtful kind of intercourse +which had been kept up between the parties; yet doubtful it remained, +and must remain for the present. With Mr. Linden there in the family; +with the familiar habits that naturally grow up between hostess and +guest, friend and friend, fellow inmates of the same house--it was very +difficult for the doctor to judge whether those habits had any other +and deeper groundwork. It was impossible, with his scanty and limited +chances of observation. At the same time there was too great a +possibility--his jealousy called it more,--for him to be willing to +take any forward and undoubtful steps himself. He did not find sea-room +to put in his oar. In this state of things, all that his pride and his +prudence would suffer him to do, was to wait--wait till either by Mr. +Linden's stay or departure the truth might be made known. But to abide +in Pattaquasset and watch patiently the signs of things, was more than +Dr. Harrison's feeling,--for it was far more than fancy,--could bear. +Just now, in despair or disgust, he had taken a longer enterprise than +usual; and was very far indeed from Pattaquasset when the news of Mr. +Linden's going set all the country in a flame. So, greatly to Faith's +satisfaction, he could not for some time be there to add any flame of +his own. + +The morning readings with Mr. Linden were great and chief treasures to +her all these days. She was always ready for him before six o'clock. +Not now in a firelit room, with curtains drawn against the cold; but in +the early freshness of the spring and summer mornings, with windows +open and sweet air coming in. Duly Faith noted every "ladder of +verses"--till her Bible grew to be well dotted with marks of red ink. +They looked lovely to her eyes. So they might; for they were records of +many very deep and sweet draughts from that well of water which the +word is to them that love it; draughts deeper and sweeter than Faith +could have drawn by herself--or she thought so. No quarter of an hour +in the day Faith loved so well. It was often more. + +One morning the "ladder" began with the silver trumpets made for the +service of God in the hands of the priests of Israel. Faith, looking +quietly out of the window, went roving in thought over the times and +occasions Mr. Linden read of, when their triumphal blast had proclaimed +the name and the glory of God in the ears of the thousands of Israel; +times of rejoicing, of hope, of promise and of victory. Scenes of glory +in the old Jewish history floated before her--with the sublime faith of +the actors in them, and the magnificent emblematic language in which +they read the truth. Faith only came fairly back to New England and +Pattaquasset at David's declaration-- + +"Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound; they shall walk, O +Lord, in the light of thy countenance." + + +The words thrilled her. She thought of the many who had never heard the +sound at all; and entered into Isaiah's foresight of a day when "the +great trumpet shall be blown, and they shall come that were ready to +perish in the land of Assyria, and the outcasts in the land of Egypt."-- + +"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth +good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good; +that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!" + + +Then came Isaiah's own blast of the trumpet, and then the sweet +enlargements and proclamations of the gospel, and the Lord's own +invitation to all who are "weary and heavy laden." But also-- + +"How shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how +shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall +they hear without a preacher? and how shall they preach, except they be +sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach +the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!"-- + +"And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, +Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him +take the water of life freely." + + +Faith sat by the open window, no sound abroad but the stir in the +leaves and the low music of birds. The very still peace without, rather +seemed to heighten and swell the moving of thoughts within, which +surged like the sea. Mr. Linden stopped reading and was silent; and so +was she, with nothing of all this appearing otherwise than in the +fixed, abstracted look which went out into Pattaquasset but also went +far beyond. And when she spoke, it was earnestly and with the same +clear quiet. + +"Endy--I am _glad_ to have you go, for the reason you are going for. I +wouldn't have you be anything else than what you mean to be,--not for +the pleasure of having you here." + +Her voice did not tremble, though indeed it told of feelings that were +less assured. + +"Dear Faith!" Mr. Linden said, with a bright flash of pleasure at her +words, which changed even while he spoke, "you do not know what a +comfort it is to me to feel that! And do you realize, little Sunbeam, +what joy it is, that however far apart we can still work together--in +the same cause, for the same master? The work which I take upon me by +name, belongs as really to you,--for the call should be given by every +one that heareth to every one that is athirst." + +"I know--" she said quietly. "How grand those words are you have been +reading!" + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said presently, "have you any special attachment to +this particular little Bible?" + +"I have my red notes in it," she said with a bright smile. + +"I am not quite satisfied with the paper and type, for your eyes--by +firelight and twilight. Shall I break up any train of old association +if I send you another?" + +She gave him a look of what Dr. Harrison might have called "compound +interest"; but assured him at the same time with sedate earnestness +that the one she had would do very well. + +This was but a day or two before Mr. Linden's leaving Pattaquasset. He +had paid his many farewell visits before the last week came, and before +that, too, had given up his weekday scholars,--those last days were all +given to Faith. Given to her in every possible way--out of doors and +within; in that fair summer weather the open air was the best of all +places for talking, and the least liable to intrusion. It was a great +relief to get away from village sights and sounds to the still woods, +or the fresh shore,--it was a great help towards cheerfulness. And the +help was needed. Wherever Mr. Linden went, among people, he met nothing +but sorrow for his going away,--wherever he went, to house or woods, he +carried the deep-hidden double sorrow in his heart, which no one +guessed of all who so loudly bewailed his departure. Faith herself +perhaps hardly realized what his part of that sorrow was; but he knew +hers, and bore it--as one bears the trials of the dearest friend one +has on earth. + +He was to go very early in the morning, but when the late evening talk +had impinged upon the night as much as it could be allowed to do, he +gave Faith the unexpected promise of coming down to read with her just +as usual next day. + +It was very, very early this time, in the summer twilight dawn, when +the kildeers were in their full burst of matins, and all the other +birds coming in one by one. Faith did not say many words, but she was +as quiet as the hour. Then she went to the breakfast-room to arrange +and hasten matters there; and Mr. Linden followed, and stood watching +her--she did not know how,--she only knew how he talked. + +But he took her into the sitting-room the moment breakfast was over and +stood by her, giving her the mute caresses he could not put in words. +And for words there was little time. The morning light came up and up +into the sky, the candles burned dim, as they stood there; and then he +bade her "'be perfect, be of good comfort,'" and so went away. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + + +When Mr. Linden was out of sight from the porch, Faith went to the +deserted room. + +It was in the latter end of summer. The windows were open, and the +summer wind blowing the muslin curtains flutteringly in. The maple +shaded Faith's old reading window, the leaves not changing yet; one +cupboard door a little open, shewed the treasures of books within. The +chintz couch stood empty, so it always stood when Faith saw it, except +only in those days of Mr. Linden's confinement with his wound. But now +her mind leaped back to that time; and the couch and the table and the +books, the very windows and fireplace, looked deserted. The red maple +leaves floating in--the dancing flames in the chimney--her lessons by +the side of that couch--her first exercise, which she had been sent to +do at that table;--all that and everything beside seemed to make its +passage through Faith's mind in tumultuous procession. She sat down on +the couch and leaned her head on the back of it; but only a few nervous +tears came, and oppressed sobbing breaths took the place of them. For a +little while then Faith fell on her knees, and if she could not speak +connectedly, nor think connectedly, she yet poured out her heart in the +only safe channel; and grew quiet and self-possessed. After an hour she +left the couch and turned to go down and join her mother. + +Passing the table on her way out, with a glance which had been called +off by other things as she came in, Faith's eye was caught and stayed. +There was no exercise left there for her, but the very gold pen with +which she had written that first one--and which she had used so many +times since, lay there; and by the pen a letter. The blood rushed to +Faith's heart as if Mr. Linden had come back again, or rather as if he +had not taken quite all of himself away. In a flood of gladness and +thankfulness and sorrow, Faith took up the letter and standing there by +the table read it. + + +MY OWN LITTLE PRECIOUS MIGNONETTE, + +I have a love for this sheet of paper, because it will be in your hands +when I cannot touch them nor see them,--how often they have ministered +to me just where I am writing this! just where you will find it. I know +_you_ will find it, Faith--I know where you will go as soon as I am out +of sight,--but dear child, do not let any sight or association in this +room make you anything but glad: they are all very dear to me. That +first day when you came in here to see me--and all the days that +followed,--and all the sweet knowledge I gained of my little +Mignonette, while she was learning other things. Faith, I can even +forgive Dr. Harrison his questions that day, for the delight it was to +me to shield you. Dear child, you must let me do that now whenever I +can,--it is one of the griefs of this separation that I cannot do it +all the time. + +I must go back to our Bible verses!--Do you remember that first +'ladder' we went up together? 'The Lord God is a sun and a shield; the +Lord will give grace and glory.'--In that sunlight I shall think of you +as abiding,--I will remember that you are covered by that shield. I +know that the Lord will keep all that I have committed to him! + +Now darling, if I could leave you 'messages,' I would; but they must +wait till I come and deliver them myself. Take, in the mean while, all +possible love and trust; and all comfort from the cause of my absence, +from our mutual work, from my expected coming home now and then--from +the diamonds on your finger and what they betoken! The diamonds stay +with you, Faith, but their light goes with me. + +My child, I have too much to say to write any longer!--I shall be drawn +on too far and too long,--it is not far from daybreak now. Take the +best possible care of your self, and 'be strong and of a good courage,' +and 'the Lord that made heaven and earth, bless thee out of Zion'! + +Precious child, you do not know how deeply I am + +Always your own-- + +ENDECOTT." + + +The first lines of the letter wrung some tears from Faith's eyes, but +afterwards the effect of the whole was to shake her. She sat down on +the couch with the letter fast in her hand, and hid her head; yet no +weeping, only convulsive breaths and a straitened breast. Faith was +wonderful glad of that letter! but the meeting of two tides is just +hard to bear; and it wakened everything as well as gladness. However, +in its time, that struggle was over too; and she went down to Mrs. +Derrick looking much like her wonted self. + +She went about so, all the day; nervously busy, though never more +orderly about her business. In the kitchen and dairy and storeroom, and +with her mother, Faith seemed as usual, with a very little of grave +thoughtfulness or remembrance thrown over her natural pleasantness; +only she gave books a wide berth, and took care to see no face that +came to the house. One would have thought her--perhaps Mrs. Derrick +even did--quietly composed and patiently submitting to trial, as if Mr. +Linden had been already weeks away. Perhaps Faith herself thought so. A +little thing shewed how much this quiet was worth. + +The day had been gone through; the tea was over, as it might, with the +two alone; and mother and daughter had gone into the other room. Faith +lit the lamp, and then began a sentence to her mother about laying the +Bible in its place for prayer--when she stopped short. For a moment she +stood still with the revulsion; then she fell on her knees and hid her +face in Mrs. Derrick's lap, and the tears that had kept back so long +came in a stormy flood; clearing the sky which had not been clear +before. She was quiet really after that; she had no more fear of her +books; and the first thing Faith did was to take pen and paper and pour +out an answer to her morning's letter; an answer in which she gave Mr. +Linden the history of her whole day, with very little reservation. + +Her mother watched her,--sat and looked at her as she wrote, with eyes +very glistening and tremulous in their fond admiration. Indeed that had +been their character all day, though Mrs. Derrick had followed Faith in +her busy work, with no attempt to check her, with no allusion to what +they both thought of uninterruptedly. Now, however, that Faith's tears +had made their own way, her mother's heart was easier; and she watched +the pretty writer by the lamp with all sorts of sweet and tender +thoughts. + +A day or two passed, in great quiet and tender ministering to each +other of the mother and daughter. Faith had taken deep hold of her +studies again and every minute of the day was filled up as busily as +ever. So the sitting-room wore in all things minus one its wonted +aspect, when, the third evening, it received Dr. Harrison. + +He came in looking remarkably well, in his light dainty summer dress, +and with that gentle carelessness of movement and manner that suited +the relaxing persuasions of a hot summer day. He came in, too, a little +like a person who through long absences has forgotten how wonted he +used to be in a certain place or how fond he was of what he found +there. Nothing further from the truth! + +He accosted both ladies after his usual gay fashion, and talked for a +while about nothings and as if he cared about nothing. He could make +nothing of Faith, except perhaps that she was a trifle shy of him. That +did not mean evil necessarily; it was natural enough. He wouldn't +disturb her shyness! + +"I have a sympathetic feeling for you, Mrs. Derrick," he remarked. "I +miss Mr. Linden so much in Pattaquasset, I can't think how you must do +in the house." + +"No, doctor, you can't," was Mrs. Derrick's quiet rejoinder. + +"How do you?" + +"Why I can't tell you, either," said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said the doctor, "I shouldn't like to be a lawyer and +have to examine you as a witness. Unless it wasn't August!" + +"Well I suppose we should agree upon that, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick. +"I don't know what August has to do with it." + +"My dear madam, it would be too much trouble!--Apparently it isn't +August everywhere!"--A very peremptory rap at the front door came in +the train of footsteps that were loud and brisk as by authority, and +that had quite survived the enervating effects referred to by the +doctor. + +"Miss Faith," said Cindy appearing at the parlour door, "here's a man's +got something--and he won't give it to me without I'll take oath I'm +you--which of course I dursn't. I'm free to confess, I can't even get +sight of it. Shall I fetch him in--thing and all?" + +Faith went to the door. It was nobody more terrific than an +express-man, who seemed to recognize "Miss Faith Derrick" by instinct, +for he asked no questions--only put a package into her hands, and then +gave her his book to sign. Faith signed her name, eagerly, and then ran +up stairs with her treasure and a beating heart, and struck a light. + +There was no need to ask where it came from--the address was plain +enough; nor much need to ask what it was--she knew that it must be her +Bible. Yet that only heightened the pleasure and interest, as she took +off one wrapping paper after another, till its own beautiful morocco +covers appeared. Within was the perfection of type and paper, with here +and there a fine coloured map; in size and shape just that medium which +seems to combine the excellencies of all the rest. There was no letter +in the package, but a slip of paper with a new "ladder of verses" +marked the place where they began; and on the fly leaf, below the +inscription, was written the first verse of the ninety-first psalm. +This was the leading reference on the slip of paper. + +Has any one--with any heart--ever received such a package? To such a +one there is no need to tell the glow of pleasure, the rush of +affection and joy, which filled Faith's heart and her face; to anybody +else it's no use. She had to exercise some care to prevent certain +witnesses of the eyes from staining the morocco or spotting the leaves. +The paper of references she left, to be enjoyed more leisurely another +time; and went on turning over the pages, catching glimpses of the +loved words that she had never seen so fairly presented to the eye +before; when after a good deal of this sort of delectation, through +half of which she was writing a letter to Mr. Linden, Faith suddenly +recollected Dr. Harrison! Softly the paper wrappers enfolded her +treasure, and then Faith went down stairs with the high colour of +pleasure in her cheeks. The doctor took several observations. + +He had not been profiting by any opportunity to "examine" Mrs. Derrick. +On the contrary, he had talked about everything else, somewhat August +fashion, in manner, but yet so cleverly that even Mrs. Derrick +confessed afterwards she had been entertained. Now, on Faith's +reappearance, he went on with his subject until he came to a natural +pause in the conversation; which he changed by remarking, in a simple +tone of interest, + +"I haven't learned yet satisfactorily what took Mr. Linden away?" + +"His own business," said Mrs. Derrick. "You must have heard what he is +about now, doctor?" + +"I have heard--but one hears everything. It is true then?" + +"O yes, it's true," said Mrs. Derrick with an even play of her +knitting-needles. + +"But then follows another very natural question," said the +doctor.--"Why did he come here at all?" + +"I dare say he'd tell you if he was here--as I wish he was," said Mrs. +Derrick,--"Mr. Linden always seemed to have good reasons for what he +did." + +"I think that too," said the doctor. "I am not quite so sure of his +telling them to me. But Pattaquasset has reason to be very sorry he is +gone away! What sort of a preacher will he make, Mrs. Derrick?" + +"He's a good one now--" said Mrs. Derrick with a smile that was even a +little moved. "Don't you think so, doctor?" + +"How dare you ask me that, Mrs. Derrick?" said the doctor with slow +funny utterance. "But I will confess this,--I would rather have _him_ +preach to me than you." + +"What sort of a bad reason have you got for that?" she said, looking at +him. + +"Miss Faith," said the doctor with the mock air of being in a +dilemma,--"you are good at definitions, if I remember--what is the +proper character of a _bad reason!_" + +Faith looked up--he had never seen her look prettier, with a little +hidden laughter both on and under her face and that colour she had +brought down stairs with her. But her answer was demure enough. + +"I suppose, sir, one that ought not to be a reason at all,--or one that +is not reason enough." + +"Do you consider it a bad reason for my not liking Mrs. Derrick's +preaching, that I am afraid of her?" + +"I shouldn't think it was reason enough," said Faith. + +"Do you like preaching from people that you are afraid of?" + +"Yes. At least I think I should. I don't know that I ever really was +afraid of anybody." + +These words, or the manner which went with them, quite obliterated the +idea of Mrs. Derrick from the doctor's head. But his manner did not +change. He only addressed his talk to Faith and altered the character +of it. Nothing could be more cool and disembarrassed. He had chosen his +tactics. + +They were made to regulate likewise the length of his visit, though the +short summer evening had near run its course before he (in +parliamentary phrase) "was on his legs" not to speak but to go. Then +strolling on to the front door, he there met Reuben Taylor; flush in +the doorway. The boy stept back into the hall to let him cone out; +whence, as the doctor saw through the open window,--he went at once to +Faith's side. But either accidentally or of design, Reuben stood so +directly before her, that Dr. Harrison could see neither face--indeed +could scarce see her at all. The little business transaction that went +on then--the letter which Reuben took from his pocket and then again +from its outer enveloppe,--the simple respect and pleasure with which +he gave it to Faith--though colouring a little too,--all this was +invisible, except to Mrs. Derrick. Faith's face would have told the +doctor the whole. The pretty colour--the dropped eyes--and the +undertone of her grateful, "I am very much obliged to you, Reuben!" + + +Reuben made no verbal answer, and staid not a minute longer, but the +pleasure of his new trust was wonderful! + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + + +Faith did not have as uninterrupted a time for studies as she had +counted upon for the next few months. In the first place, letters took +a great many hours. In the second place, her studies were pretty +frequently broken up of an evening by Dr. Harrison. + +He certainly came often; whether it was because of the strength of +attraction in that particular house, or the failure of any attraction +beside in all the coasts of Pattaquasset, was a problem which remained +unsolved by anything in the doctor's manner. His manner was like what +it had been the evening just recounted. He amused himself, after his +nonchalant fashion, and amused his hearers; he did not in the mean time +call upon them for any help at all. He discerned easily that Faith had +a little shyness about her; that might mean one thing or it might mean +another; and Dr. Harrison was far too wise to risk the one thing by +endeavouring to find out whether it was the other. The doctor was no +fisher had no favour for the sport; but if he had been, he might have +thought that now he was going to give his fish a very long line indeed, +and let it play to any extent of shyness or wilfulness; his hand on the +reel all the time. + +The talk that would do for Miss Essie would not please Faith. The +doctor knew that long ago. He drew upon his better stores. His +knowledge of the earth we live on; his familiarity with nature's and +art's wonders; history and philosophy; literature and science; and a +knowledge of the world which he used as a little piquant spice to +flavour all the rest of his knowledge. Thrown in justly, with a nice +hand, so as not to offend, it did rather serve to provoke a delicate +palate; while it unmistakably gratified his own. It was the salt to the +doctor's dish. + +But everything wants breaking up with variety, and variety itself may +come to be monotonous. He asked Faith one evening if she knew anything +of chymistry; and proceeded upon her reply to give her sundry bits of +detail and some further insight into the meaning and bearing of the +science. It was not August then, but it might have been, for the +leisurely manner in which the doctor "unwound his skein" of talk, as if +he were talking to himself or _for_ himself; and yet he was, and he +knew it, filling Faith's ears with delight. He took up the same subject +afterwards from time to time; beginning from any trifle of suggestion, +he would go off into an exquisite chymical discussion, illustrated and +pointed and ornamented, as no lecturer but one loving both his subject +and his _object_ could ever make it. After a while the doctor began to +come with bits of metal and phials of acids, and delight Faith and +astonish Mrs. Derrick by turning her sitting-room into an impromptu +laboratory. Such fumes! such gaseous odours! such ominous "reports", +were never known in and about Mrs. Derrick's quiet household; nor were +her basins and tumblers ever put to such strange, and in her view +hideous, uses. But Dr. Harrison rather seemed to enjoy what appeared at +first sight inconveniences; triumphed over the imperfections of tools +and instruments, and wrought wonders over which Faith bent with greater +raptures than if the marvels of Aladdin's lamp had been shewn before +her. The doctor began by slow degrees; he let all this grow up of +itself; he asked only for a tumbler the first time. And insensibly they +went on, from one thing to another; till instead of a tumbler, the +doctor would sometimes be surrounded with a most extraordinary retinue +and train of diversified crockery and china. An empty butter-tub came +to do duty for a water-bath; bottles and jars and cups and glasses, of +various shapes and dimensions, attended or waited upon the doctor's +operations; and with a slight apology and assurance to Mrs. Derrick he +on more than one or two occasions appropriated the clock-shade for his +use and behoof as a receiver. Then siphons began to come in the +doctor's pocket; and glass tubes, bent and straight, open and sealed, +in the doctor's hand; and one of his evenings came to be "better than a +play." A most beautiful and exquisite play to Faith. Yet Dr. Harrison +never forgot his tactics; never let his fish feel the line; and to +Faith's joyous "How shall I ever thank you, Dr. Harrison!"--would reply +by a dry request that she would induce Mrs. Derrick to have muffins for +tea some evening and let him come. + +And what did Dr. Harrison gain by all this? He did gain some hours of +pleasure--that would have been very exquisite pleasure, but for the +doubt that haunted him, and respecting which he could get no data of +decision. The shyness and reserve did pass away from Faith; she met him +and talked with him as a pleasant intimate friend whose company she +enjoyed and who had a sort of right to hers; the right of friendship +and kindliness. But then he never did anything to try her shyness or to +call up her reserve. He never asked anything of her that she _could_ +refuse. He never advanced a step where it could with decency be +repressed. He knew it. But he bided his time. He did not know what +thorough and full accounts of all his evenings went--through the +post-office. + +He knew, and it rather annoyed him, that Reuben Taylor was very freely +admitted and very intimately regarded in the house. There was perhaps +no very good reason why this should have annoyed the doctor. Yet +somehow he always rather identified Reuben Taylor with another of his +friends. He found out, too, that Reuben much preferred the times when +he, the doctor, was not there; for after once or twice coming in upon +sulphuric acid and clock shades (from which he retreated faster than if +it had all been gun-powder) Reuben changed his hour; and the doctor had +the satisfaction of wishing him good evening in the porch--or of +passing him on the sidewalk--or of hearing the swing of the little gate +and Reuben's quick bound up the steps when his own feet were well out +in the common ground of the road. + +Mrs. Derrick expressed unequivocally (to Faith, not the doctor) her +dislike of all chymical "smells" whatever, and her abhorrence of all +"reports" but those which went off after the doctor's departure; the +preparation of which Mrs. Derrick beheld with a sort of vindictive +satisfaction. Mr. Linden enjoyed his letters unqualifiedly, sometimes +wrote chymical answers--now and then forestalling the doctor, but +rarely saying much about him. Faith was in little danger of annoyance +from anything with her mother sitting by, and for the rest Dr. Harrison +was at his own risk. Letters were too precious--every inch of them--to +be much taken up with discussing _him_. Other things were of more +interest,--sometimes discussion, sometimes information, oftenest of +all, talk; and now and then came with the letter some book to give +Faith a new bit of reading. Above all, the letters told her--in a sort +of indefinable, unconscious way, how much, how much her presence was +missed and longed for; it seemed to her as if where one letter laid it +down the next took it up--not in word but in atmosphere, and carried it +further. In that one respect (though Faith never found it out) the +chymical accounts gave pain. + +Faith in her letters never spoke directly of this element of his; but +she made many a gentle effort to meet it and soothe what could be +soothed. To this end partly were her very full accounts of all the +course of her quiet life. As fearlessly and simply as possible Faith +talked, to him; quite willing to be found wrong and to be told so, +wherever wrong was. It was rather by the fulness of what she gave him, +than by any declaration of want on her own part, that Mr. Linden could +tell from her letters how much she felt or missed in his absence. She +rarely put any of that into words, and if it got in atmospherically it +was by the subtlest of entrances. When she spoke it at all, it was +generally a very frank and simple expression of strong truth. + +Of out-door work, during all this time, she had a variety. For some +time after Mr. Linden's going away, neither Mrs. Stoutenburgh nor the +Squire had been near the house; but then they began to amuse themselves +with taking her to drive, and whenever Faith could and would go she was +sure of a pleasant hour or two out in the brisk autumn air, and with no +danger of even hearing Mr. Linden's name mentioned. The silence indeed +proved rather too much, but it was better than speech. Then she and +Reuben had many excursions, short and long. Sometimes the flowers or +eggs or tracts were sent by him alone, but often Faith chose to go too; +and he was her ever ready, respectful, and efficient escort,--respect +it was truly, of the deepest and most affectionate kind. And thus--on +foot or with Jerry--the two went their rounds; but at such houses Faith +must both hear and speak of Mr. Linden--there was always some question +to answer, some story to hear. + +It happened, among Dr. Harrison's other pleasures, that he several +times met them on these expeditions; generally when he was driving, +sometimes when they were too; but one late November afternoon--not late +in the month but late in the day, fortune favoured him. Strolling along +for an unwonted walk, the doctor beheld from a little hill Faith and +Reuben in the valley below,--saw them go up to the door of a cottage, +saw Faith go in, and Reuben sit down in the porch and take out his +book. It was a fair picture,--the brown woodland, the soft sunlight, +the little dark cottage, the pretty youthful figures with their quick +steps and natural gestures, and the evening hue and tone of everything. +But the doctor did not admire it--and went down the hill without even +taking off his hat to the chickadees that bobbed their black caps at +him from both sides of the road. By the porch the doctor suddenly +slackened his pace, looked within, nodded to Reuben, and came to a halt. + +"Have I accidentally found out where you live, Reuben?" + +"I live down by the shore, sir," said Reuben standing up. + +"I thought--" said the doctor, "I had got an impression that you were +not a thorough-going Pattaquasseter--but you looked so much at home +there.--Where _do_ you live? whereabouts, I mean; for the shore +stretches a long way." + +Reuben gave the vernacular name of the little rocky coast point which +was his home, but the point itself was too much out of the doctor's +'beat' to have the name familiar. + +"How far off is that?" + +"About four miles from here, sir." + +"May I ask what you are studying so diligently four miles from home at +this hour?" + +Reuben coloured a good deal, but with not more than a moment's +reluctance held out his book for the doctor's inspection. It was a +Bible. The doctor's face changed, ever so little; but with what +feeling, or combination of feelings, it would have taken a much wiser +reader of men and faces than Reuben to tell. It was only a moment, and +then he stood with the book in his hand gravely turning it over, but +with his usual face. + +"I once had the pleasure of asking you questions on some other +matters," he remarked,--"and I remember you answered well. Can you pass +as good an examination in this?" + +"As to the words, sir? or the thoughts?--I don't quite know," said +Reuben modestly. + +"Words are the signs of thoughts, you know." + +"Yes, sir--but nobody can know all the Bible thoughts--though some +people have learned all the Bible words." + +The doctor gave a little sort of commenting nod, rather approving than +otherwise. "You are safe here," he paid as he handed the book back to +Reuben; "for in this study I couldn't examine you. What are you +pursuing the study for?--may I ask?" + +"If you don't know!" was in the boy's full gaze for a moment. But he +looked down again, answering steadily--"'Thy word have I hid in my +heart, that I might not sin against thee!'--I love it, Dr. +Harrison--and it shews me the way to serve God." + +"Well," said the doctor rather kindly--"if I hadn't interrupted you, +how much more study would you have accomplished before you thought it +time to set oft for that four miles' walk home--to that unpronounceable +place?" + +"I don't know, sir--I am not obliged to be there by any particular time +of night." + +"No, I know you are not. But--excuse my curiosity!--are you so fond of +the Bible that you stop on the way home to read it as you go along? or +are you waiting for somebody?" + +The words brought the colour back with a different tinge, but Reuben +simply answered, "No, sir--I did not stop here to read. I am waiting." + +"For Miss Derrick, are you not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then I dare say Miss Derrick will release you for this time, and allow +me to attend her home, whither I am going myself." + +"I must wait till she comes out, sir," Reuben said, with the respectful +intractability which the doctor remembered. + +"Of course!" he said. "Did you ever take lessons of anybody but Mr. +Linden?--" But at this point the house door opened and Faith came out. + +"Miss Faith," said the doctor, after his greeting which was thoroughly +in character, "if you will tell your escort here--who I am sure is a +staunch one--that you need him no longer, he will feel free to begin +his long walk to the shore,--and I shall have the rare pleasure and +honour of going home with you." + +Faith turned frankly. "Do you want to go home, Reuben?" + +"No, Miss Faith"--was the equally frank, low-spoken answer,--"not +unless you want me to go." Reuben could but speak the truth--and he did +try to speak it with as little offence as possible; though with an +instinctive feeling that the time "when truth will be truth and not +treason," had not yet arrived. "I mean, that I want to do just what you +wish," he added looking up at her. + +"I don't want you to go, then," said Faith laughing, "for I mean that +you shall come home to tea with me. Dr. Harrison, I will invite you +too," she said turning her bright face towards him. "I _believe_--there +are muffins to-night." + +"Miss Faith,"--said the doctor,--"you are an angel!" + +"What is the connexion between that and muffins?" said Faith merrily, +for Reuben was at her side and she felt free. + +"You mistake the connexion," said the doctor gravely. "Angels are +supposed to be impartial in their attentions to the human race, and not +swayed by such curious--and of course arrogant--considerations as move +the lower herd of mortals. To an immaterial creature, how can the +height of a door be material!" + +"But I think you are mistaken," said Faith gently. "I don't believe any +creatures mind more what they find inside the door." + +"What did you find inside that door?" said the doctor. + +Faith hesitated. "Do you know to-morrow is Thanksgiving day, Dr. +Harrison?" + +"I am not quite sure that I ought to say I know it--though my father +did read the proclamation. I suppose I know it now." + +"I found inside of that door some people who could not make pumpkin +pies--and Reuben and I have been carrying them one of mother's." + +"What a day they will have of it!" said the doctor,--"if Mrs. Derrick's +pies are made in the same place as her muffins. But can _you_ find +nothing better to do than running round the country to supply the +people that haven't pies?" + +"Not many things pleasanter,"--said Faith looking at him. + +"I see I was right," said he smiling. "I have no doubt angels do that +sort of thing. But it is a sort of pleasure of which I have no +knowledge. All my life I have pleased only myself. Yet one would wish +to have some share in it, too. I can't make pies! And if I could, I +shouldn't know in the least where to bestow them. Do you think you +could take this now," said he producing a gold eagle, "and turn it into +pumpkins or anything else that you think will make people happy--and +see that they get to the right places?--for me?" + +"Do you mean it seriously, Dr. Harrison?" + +"If you will have the condescension!" + +"Oh thank you!" said Faith flushing with joy,--"oh thank you! I am very +glad of this, and so will many others be. Dr. Harrison, I wish you +could know the pleasure this will give!--the good it will do." + +"I don't think a ten-dollar piece ever gave _me_ so much pleasure," +said he looking a little moved. "About the good I don't know; that's +not so easy." + +Faith left that point for him to consider, though with many a wish in +her own heart. But the walk home brightened into a very pleasant one +after that. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + + +The soft grey clouds which had hung about the setting sun only waited +his departure to double their folds and spread them all over the sky. +Then the wind rose, sweeping gustily through the bare branches, and +heavy drops of rain fell scatteringly on the dead leaves. But when wind +and rain had taken a little more counsel together, they joined forces +in a wild stormy concert which swept on with increasing tumult. It did +not disturb Faith and her mother, at their quiet work and reading,--it +did not deter Cindy from going over night to spend Thanksgiving day +with her friends,--but it was a wild storm nevertheless; and while the +hours of the night rolled on over the sleepers in Mrs. Derrick's house, +still wind and rain kept up their carousal, nor thought of being quiet +even when the morning broke. + +"But rather, giving of thanks."--That was the motto of the day--the one +answer to the many vexed questions of life and care. Care was pressing, +and life distracting, and everywhere was something that seemed to call +for tears or complaints. To all of these the day answered--"But rather, +giving of thanks." + +It was dark enough when Faith awoke; and she sat up in bed a minute or +two, listening to the wild blasts of wind and the heavy pattering of +the rain,--hearing the screech of the locomotive as the train swept by +in the distance, with a pang at the thought of its freight of +homeward-bound and expected dear ones,--then taking the day's motto, +and gently and quietly going about the day's work. But the first of its +work for her, was to cancel the bit of work it had already done by +itself; and for that Faith went to her Bible,--went first to the list +of texts that had come with it; endeavouring to realize and make sure +her ground on that verse of the 91st Psalm--then on from that to its +following-- + + "For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion." + + +It was not a "time of trouble." Faith would not call it so. Never so +bright a Thanksgiving day had risen upon her, spite of its clouds. But +trouble might come; in the course of life-experience she knew it was +pretty sure to come; and she sought to refuge herself beforehand in the +promise of that pavilion of hiding. The driving wind and storm that +emblematized another kind, gave emphasis also to the emblem of shelter. +How Faith blessed her Bible! + +The next verse enlarged a little.-- + +"Thou shalt hide them in the secret of thy presence from the pride of man: +thou shalt keep them secretly in a pavilion from the strife of tongues." + + +Then followed the joyful acceptance of that promise-- + +"Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou +shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance." + + +Then its result-- + +"I am like a green olive tree in the house of God: I trust in the +mercy of God for ever and ever." + +"From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is +overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For thou hast +been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy. I will abide +in thy tabernacle for ever; I will trust in the covert of thy wings." + + +What strong refuge! what riches of trust!--How very bright Faith's +fire-lit room looked, with the wind whistling all about, and the red +light on her open Bible. She turned on. And like the full burst of a +chorus after that solo, she seemed to hear the whole Church Militant +say,-- + + "Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations." + + +Her mind swept back to the martyr ages,--to times when the church's +road has been in darkness and in light, and the long train of pilgrims +have gone over it in light and in darkness, each with that staff in his +hand. Faith looked long at those words, seeming to see the great "cloud +of witnesses" pass in procession before her. How true the words were to +Abraham, when he left his home. How true to Daniel when he was thrown +to the lions. How true they were to Stephen when he uttered his dying +cry!--how true to the little child whom she had seen go to be with +Christ for ever!--"In all generations." + +The prophets, true to their office, threw the light for ward.-- + + "He shall be for a sanctuary." + +"Although I have cast them far off among the heathen, and although +I have scattered them among the countries, yet will I be to them as a +little sanctuary in the countries where they shall come." + +"I will be as the dew unto Israel: he shall grow as the lily, and cast +forth his roots as Lebanon. His branches shall spread, and his beauty +shall be as the olive tree, and his smell as Lebanon." + + +The next words gave the whole description, the whole key of entrance. + +"Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in +him and he in God. And we have known and believed the love that God +hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, +and God in him." + + +Here was the "Sanctuary" on earth,--the foreshewing image of the one on +high. + +"I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are +the temple of it." + + +How far Faith had got from the earthly Thanksgiving day--even to that +finished and everlasting one on high! She had of course read and +studied these passages all before--once; and then she had shut them up +as a particular casket of treasures that she would not grow too +familiar with suddenly, but would keep to enjoy their brightness +another time. Something this Thanksgiving morning had made Faith want +them. She now sat looking at the last words, feeling as if she wanted +nothing. + +The wind and the rain still raged without, drowning and merging any +sounds there might be in the road, though truly few animate things were +abroad at that hour in that weather. Mr. Skip had roused himself, +indeed, for his day's pleasure, and after lighting the kitchen fire had +gone forth--leaving it to take care of itself; but when the door closed +after him, Faith and her fire looked at each other in the same +stillness as before. Until she heard the front door open and +shut,--that was the first sound, and the last,--no unwonted one, +either; that door opened and shut twenty times a day. What intangible, +well-recognized modification in its motions now, made Faith's heart +bound and sink with sudden belief--with swift denial? Who was it? at +that hour! Faith sprang to the parlour door, she did not know how, and +was in the dark hall. A little gleam of firelight followed her--a +little faint dawn came through the fanlight of the door: just enough to +reveal to Faith those very outlines which at first sight she had +pronounced "pleasant." One more spring Faith made; with no scream of +delight, but with a low exclamation, very low, that for its many-folded +sweetness was like the involutions of a rosebud. + +"Faith!" he exclaimed. "Don't touch me till I get out of the +rain!"--which prohibition Faith might consider useless, or might think +that--shuttlecock fashion--it had got turned round in the air. + +"The best place to get out of the rain is in here," she said trying to +draw him along with her. "Oh Endy! how came you in it?" + +"If you say three words to me, I shall give you the benefit of all the +remaining raindrops," said Mr. Linden, disengaging himself to throw off +his overcoat,--"how can one do anything, with you standing there? How +came I in it?--I came in it! Precious child! how do you do?" And she +was taken possession of, and carried off into the next room, like a +rosebud as she was, to have the same question put a great many times in +a different way. More words for her, just then, Mr. Linden did not seem +to have. Nor Faith for him. She stood very still, her face in a glow of +shy joy, but her eyes and even her lips grave and quiet; except when +sometimes a very tiny indicatory smile broke half way upon them. + +"When did you come?" + +"I came in the night train. Mignonette--are you glad to see me?" + +The smile shewed her teeth a little. They would bear shewing, but this +was only a glimmer of the white enamel. + +"Then you have been travelling all night?" + +"Yes. How are you going to prove your position?" + +"What position, Endy?" + +"That you are glad to see me." + +"I don't know,"--she said looking up at him. + +"You cannot think of any proof to give me?" + +"I can think of a great many." + +"I am ready to take them!" said Mr. Linden demurely. + +"Then if you will sit down and let me leave you for a few minutes, I +will see what I can do." + +"Thank you--the proofs that I mean would by no means take you further +off. Suppose you see what you can do without going away." + +She laid her head down for a minute, colouring too, even the cheek that +was high-coloured before; but she looked up again. + +"Stoop your high head, then, Endy!"--she said;--and she gave him two +kisses, as full and earnest as they were soft. There was no doubt Faith +had proved her position! + +"Faith, darling," he said, "have you been growing thin?--or is it only +that I have had to do with such substantial humanity of late. Look up +here and let me see--are you anything but the essence of Mignonette?" + +The face she shewed was aptly named; about as pure as that. With grave, +loving intentness--not the less grave for its little companion +smile--Mr. Linden studied her face for a minute,--pushing back her hair. + +"Do you think,"--she said then in a light soft tone--a departure from +the last words,--"do you think you won't want the essence of something +else by and by, Endecott?" + +"No,"--decidedly,--"I want nothing but you--so you may as well make up +your mind to want nothing but me." + +"Do you know what that would end in?" + +"Not necessarily in such a simple duet," said Mr. Linden +smiling,--"people do not always realize their ideal. Mignonette, you +are just as lovely as you can be!--and you need not bring Miss Reason +to keep me in order. I suppose if _she_ were in the house it would end +in her wanting her breakfast." + +"I don't like Miss Keason," said Faith, "and the only thing I am +thinking of putting in order is the kitchen fire. Would you like to go +there with me? Nobody's in the house--Cindy went yesterday to a +wedding, and Mr. Skip is gone home to keep Thanksgiving." + +"That is the best thing I ever heard of Cindy," said Mr. Linden. "Of +course I will go!--and play Ferdinand again Faith, would the doctor +call me an 'acid'--come to dissolve all his crystals?" + +"Dr. Harrison gave me ten dollars yesterday for the poor people," said +Faith as she led the way to the kitchen. Arrived there, she placed a +chair for Mr. Linden and requested him to be seated; while she examined +into the state of the fire. The chair was disregarded--the fire +received double attention. + +"Faith," he said laughingly, "I bear the curb about as well as +Stranger. I have a great mind to tell you how that eagle stands in the +doctor's memorandum book!" + +Faith dropped her hands for the moment and looked at him, with grave +eyes of wide-open attention. The look changed Mr. Linden's purpose,--he +could not bear to take away all the pleasure the eagle had brought on +his gold wings. + +"I don't believe there is such a book in existence," he said lightly. +"Miranda, what would you like to have me do for you now?--the fire is +ready for anything." + +"I haven't anything ready for it yet," said Faith, "but I will have--if +you'll wait a bit."--She left him there, and ran off--coming back in a +little while. And then Mr. Linden was initiated, if he never was +before, in kitchen mysteries. Faith covered herself with a great apron, +rolled up her sleeves above the elbows, and with funny little glances +at him between whiles, went round the room about various pieces of +work. Almost noiselessly, with the utmost nicety of quick and clean +work, she was busy in one thing after another and in two or three at +the same time; while Mr. Linden stood or sat by the fire looking on. +Two things he comprehended; the potatoes which were put over the fire +to boil and the white shortcakes which finally stood cut out on the +board ready for baking. The preliminary flour and cream and mixing in +the bowl had been (culinary) Sanscrit to him. He had watched her +somewhat silently of late, but none the less intently: indeed in all +his watching there had been a silent thread woven in with its laughing +and busy talk,--his eyes had followed her as one follows a veritable +sunbeam, noting the bright gleams of colour here, and the soft light +there, and thinking of the time when it must quit the room. + +"Faith," he said as she cut out her cakes, "are these what you made for +me the first night I came here?" + +"I believe so!" + +"What do you suppose you look like--going about the kitchen in this +style?--you make me think irresistibly of something." + +"I should like to know," said Faith with an amused laugh. + +"I shall make you blush, if I tell you," said Mr. Linden. + +That was enough to do it! Faith gave him one look, and went on with her +shortcakes. + +"You don't care about knowing, after all?" said Mr. Linden. +"Well,--Faith, do you expect ever to make such things in my +house?--because if you do, I think it will ensure my coming down stairs +before breakfast." + +How she flushed--over cheek and brow,--then remarked gravely that, "she +was glad he liked it." + +"Yes, and you have no idea what effects my liking will produce!" said +Mr. Linden. "You see, Faith, it may happen to us now and then to be +left without other hands than our own in the house (there is no +reliance whatever to be placed upon cottages!) and then you will come +down, as now, and I shall come too--taking the precaution to bring a +book, that nobody may suspect what I come for. Then enter one of my +parishioners--Faith, are you attending?" + +Faith had stopped, and poising her rolling pin the reverse way on the +board--that is, on end,--had leaned her arms upon it,--giving up +shortcakes entirely for the time being. + +"You will not be in that position," said Mr. Linden, "but going on +properly with your cakes--as you should be now. Then enter one of my +parishioners who lives six miles off, to ask me to come over to his +house and instruct him in the best way of hanging his gate,--which I of +course promise to do, notwithstanding your protestations that I know +nothing of that--nor of anything else. Parishioner goes away and +reports. One part of the people say how economical we are!--to make one +fire do our cooking and studying. Another part have their suspicions +that you keep me at hand to lift off the teakettle (much strengthened +by report of your protest.) And the charitable part at once propose to +raise my salary--so that we may have as many fires as we like. +Faith--what should we do in the circumstances?" + +Faith was biting her lips and rolling out cakes with the swiftest +activity, not allowing Mr. Linden a sight of her face. + +"If you hung the gate, I should think you would take the money"--she +answered demurely. + +"I said you would say I could not do it!" said Mr. Linden. "Which being +duly reported and considered by certain other people, will cause them +to shake their heads, and wish in half audible (but most telegraphic!) +whispers, 'that Mr. Linden were half as smart as his wife'!" + +Faith stopped again. "Oh Endy!"--she exclaimed between laughing and +pleading. + +"Que voulez-vous, Mademoiselle?" + +But Faith went at her cakes and finished the few that were left. + +"I think you must be very much in want of your breakfast," she said +coming to the fire. "You have played Prince Ferdinand--do you think you +would mind acting the part of King Alfred, for once?" + +"My dear, I will play any part for you whatever!--in our duet. Shall I +practise taking off the kettle to begin with?" + +"I don't think you had better,"--Faith said with a kept down +laugh,--"for it doesn't boil." + +"Shall I take you off then? What are you going to do while I play +Alfred?--I will not answer for my solo performances." + +"I shall not be gone but a few minutes. Do you think you could take +this little skillet from the fire if it _did_--boil?" + +Mr. Linden might have got into a reverie after she ran away;--but +certain it is that the skillet was in imminent danger of "boiling over" +when Faith appeared at his side and with a laughing look at him gently +lifted it off. + +"You are an excellent Alfred!" + +"What version of Alfred have you learned?" he said laughing, and +catching it from her hand before it reached the hearth. "I thought hot +water was his reward--not his work." + +"I thought, Endy, you would like to go up to your room before +breakfast. Mother will be down presently." + +"And am I to find the perfection of a fire, as usual?" said Mr. Linden, +taking both her hands in his and looking at her. "Little Sunbeam!--you +should not have done that! Do you know what you deserve?" + +She stood before him rather soberly, glancing up and down; but he +little guessed what her quietness covered. Though the lines of her lip +did give tiny indication that quietness was stirred somewhere. He drew +her to him for a moment, with one or two unconnected words of deep +affection, then turned and went away. Faith listened to hear the well +known run up the stairs--the familiar closing of that door,--how +strange it sounded! how gladsome, how sorrowful. She stood still just +where Mr. Linden had left her, as if sorrow and joy both held her with +detaining hands. + +"Why child? Faith!"--said Mrs. Derrick coming into the kitchen, "what +_are_ you about? What made you get up so early, Faith? What's the +matter?--breakfast ready at this time of day! Couldn't you sleep, +pretty child?" she added tenderly. + +"I didn't get up very much earlier than usual, mother. Don't you want +breakfast?" + +"Whenever you like, child," said her mother, taking hold in her +turn,--"but what's made you in such a hurry? And what makes you look +so, Faith?--You're not pale, neither,--how _do_ you look?" + +Faith came so close that her mother could not see, and kissed her. +"Mother, Mr. Linden is here." + +"Here!" said Mrs. Derrick with a little sympathetic start--it was not +all surprise, nor all joy.--"Pretty child! how glad I am! But why +didn't you call me, Faith?--and why don't you go and sit down and be +quiet--now you've just been tiring yourself, and I could have done the +whole! And of all things, how could he get here in such weather? No +wonder you're in a hurry, child!"--and Mrs. Derrick began to work in +earnest. + +Faith gave her the word or two more that she could give, and went to +the dairy. It was Faith's domain; she was alone, and her industry fell +from her hands. Breakfast and all might wait. Faith set down her bowl +and spoon, sat down herself on the low dairy shelf before the window, +cold and November though it was, and let the tears come, of which she +had a whole heartful in store; and for a little while they fell faster +than the raindrops which beat and rattled against the panes. But this +was a gentler shower, and cleared the sky. Faith rose up from the shelf +entirely herself again. + +So busy, skimming off the smooth cream, she felt the light touch of +hands on her shoulders--felt more than that on her cheek. Had the tears +left any trace there?--that Mr. Linden brought her face round into +view. He asked no such question, however, unless with his eyes. + +"Mignonette, what are you about?" + +"King Alfred's breakfast. I forgot you knew the way to the dairy!" + +"Or could find it if I did not. What shape does my breakfast take in +these regions?" + +"It takes the shape--Let us go back to the kitchen and we will see." + +It was spry work in the kitchen now! How Faith's fingers went about. +But Mr. Linden could make nothing of the form his breakfast was +taking--nothing of Faith's mysterious bowl, in which the cream he had +seen her skim went into compound with the potatoes he had seen boiling +and with also certain butter and eggs. The mixture went into the oven, +and then Faith went off to set the table in the parlour. As they were +alone to-day the fire in the dining-room was not to be kindled. + +The storm beat so differently upon the windows now!--now, when it was +only a barrier against people who were not wanted to come in. Mr. +Linden followed Faith in her motions, sometimes with eye and voice, +sometimes with his own steps; confusing both her and her arrangements, +making her laugh, and himself the cause of various irregularities in +the table-setting, which he was very quick to point out. + +"Mignonette," he said, "I think it is a perfect day! Do you hear how it +storms?" + +"And aren't you glad Cindy went to a wedding? And oh, Endy!--how many +people will be coming after you to-day?" Faith stopped, knife in hand. + +"Did you suppose that I would come here to see you, and then be obliged +to see half Pattaquasset instead? I stopped at Patchaug station,--there +Reuben met me, and we had as pleasant a four mile drive in the rain as +I ever remember. As to the wedding--I think there can never be more +than one other so felicitous." + +Faith ran off. + +And presently the breakfast came in, variously, in her hands and in +Mrs. Derrick's. It was broad light now, and the curtains drawn back, +but the red firelight still gave the hue of the room; and the +breakfast-table and the three people round it wanted for no element or +means of comfort. There were the shortcakes, which Mr. Linden might +more readily recognize now in their light brown flakiness--his coffee +was poured upon the richest of cream; the potatoes came out of the oven +in the shape of a great puff-ball, of most tender consistency; and the +remains of a cold chicken had been mystified into such a dish of +delicacy as no hands but a Frenchwoman's--or Faith's--could concoct. +It's a pleasant thing to be catered for by hands that love you. Mr. +Linden had found that pleasure this morning before. But both Faith and +he were undoubtedly ready for their breakfast! + +After breakfast came the consideration of a basketful of things Mr. +Linden had brought her. Very simple things they were, and unromantic +enough to be useful; yet with sentiment enough about them,--if that +name might be given to the tokens of a care that busied itself about +all the ins and outs of her daily life, and sought out and remembered +the various little things that she wanted and could not get; for the +various papers of sugarplums in which the whole were packed, Mr. Linden +declared them to be nothing but epithets and adjectives. + +The weather held on its way into the afternoon; but what was most +unexpected, the afternoon brought a visiter. Mr. Linden and Faith, deep +in talk, heard the sound of a foot on the scraper and then of a knock +at the door, which made them both start up. Faith went to the door. But +before she could open it, Mrs. Derrick came up behind her with swift +steps and remanded Faith to the parlour. + +"I'll open it, child," she said,--"it's no use for you to run the risk +of seeing anybody you don't want to." So Faith returned to Mr. Linden. +But the first word set all fears at rest--it was only Reuben Taylor. He +presented himself with many apologies, and would fain have told his +errand to Mrs. Derrick, but as it was for Faith, the good lady opened +the parlour door and bade Reuben go in,--which, as he could not help +it, Reuben did. But the colour of his face as he came in!--Mr. Linden +took the effect of it--Faith was partly occupied with her own; and +Reuben, thinking the sooner the quicker--walked straight up to her. + +"Miss Faith," he said, trying to speak as usual, "I beg your +pardon--but I was sent here with this,"--and Reuben presented a +moderately large round basket, without a handle. + +"Reuben, come up to the fire," said Mr. Linden; while Faith took the +basket and exclaimed, "This! Who in the world sent you, Reuben?--Yes, +come to the fire." + +"I am not cold, sir," Reuben said with a look towards where Mr. Linden +stood by the mantelpiece, as if his desire was to get out of the +room--instead of further in, though he did follow Faith a step or two +as she went that way. "I didn't mean to come here to-day, Mr. Linden, +but--" + +"Didn't mean to come here?" said Mr. Linden smiling,--"what have you +been doing, to be afraid of me? Faith, has your postman been remiss?" + +They were a pair, Reuben and Faith! though the colour of the one was +varying, while Reuben's was steady. Faith nevertheless seized the boy's +hand and drew him with gentle violence up to the fire. + +"Who sent you with this, Reuben?" + +"Dr. Harrison, Miss Faith. I was off on an errand after church, and one +of his men came after me and told me to come to the house. And there I +saw the doctor himself--and ho told me to bring you this basket, ma'am, +and that he didn't like to trust it to any one else. And--" but there +Reuben hesitated. + +"And that you were the only person he knew who would go through fire +and water for him?" said Mr. Linden. + +"No, sir, but--I suppose I've got to say it, since he told me to,--Dr. +Harrison said, Miss Faith, that--" the message seemed to stir both +Reuben's shame and laughter--"that he had begged a cake of his sister, +to go with your Thanksgiving pies--and that it was in the basket. And +that I needn't tell anybody else about it." + +"Reuben," said Mr. Linden laughing, "you needn't tell him that I shall +eat half the cake." + +"No, sir"--Reuben said,--and tried not to laugh, and couldn't help it. + +The third member of the trio shewed no disposition at all to much +laughter. She had put the basket down on the table and looked at it +from a distance, as if it had contained the four and twenty live +blackbirds--or a small powder magazine. The effect of his message +Reuben did not stay to see. He went round to Mr. Linden to ask if the +morning orders were unchanged, clasped hands with him--then bowed low +to Faith and went out. + +With very demure face Mr. Linden seated himself in one of the +easy-chairs, and looked towards the table, with the air of one who +expects--something! And not demurely but with grave consciousness, +Faith stood looking in the same direction; then her eyes went to Mr. +Linden. But his face did not relax in the least. + +"Do you suppose that basket holds a kitten?" he said contemplatively. + +Faith did not answer but walked over to the table and began the work of +investigation. Mr. Linden came too. "If you are to make feline +discoveries, I must stand by you, little bird," he said. + +The basket was carefully tied with a network of strings over the top; +then followed one paper after another, a silk paper at last,--and the +cake was revealed. The low exclamation that burst from Faith might be +characterized as one of mingled admiration and dismay. + +Certainly Dr. Harrison had amused himself that Thanksgiving day! +perhaps in terror of his old enemy, ennui. At least his basket looked +so. + +The cake lay upon a white paper in the basket, with a little space all +around. It was a rather small loaf with a plain icing. But round the +sides of it were trailed long sprays of ivy geranium, making a +beautiful bordering. The centre was crowned with a white camellia in +its perfection. From the tip edge of each outer petal depended a drop +of gold, made to adhere there by some strong gum probably; and between +the camellia and the ivy wreaths was a brilliant ring of gold spots, +somewhat larger, set in the icing. Somebody, and it was probably the +doctor, for want of better to do,--had carefully prepared the places to +receive them, so that they were set in the white like a very neat +inlay. It was presently seen that quarter eagles made the inlay, and +that the camellia was dropped with gold dollars. + +On the ivy lay a note. Faith looked at Mr. Linden as she took it up; +broke the seal, and hastily running over the paper gave it to him-- + + + +"MY DEAR MISS FAITH, + + + +My yesterday's speculation in pumpkins proved so successful, that like +a true speculator it made me want to plunge deeper--into the pumpkin +field! I find myself this morning dissatisfied with what I have +done--and beg to send a cake to go along with the pies--to be +apportioned of course as your judgment shall suggest. I begged the cake +from Sophy, who I am sure would not have given it to me if she had +known what I was going to do with it. + +Your pleasure, personal and representative, last night, is a reproach +to me whenever I think of it. Yet my unwonted hand knows neither how to +cut up cake, nor what to do with it when it is cut--except--_avaler!_ +Am I wrong in hoping that you will do me the grace to make available +what I should only--if I tried to do better with it--throw away? and +that as a token of your forgiveness and grace you will on the next +opportunity bestow a piece of pumpkin pie, such as you carried the +other night, on + + + +Your very respectful and most obedient servant, + + + +JULIUS HARRISON." + + + +PATTAQUASSET, Nov. 15, 18--. + + + +Mr. Linden read the note more deliberately than Faith had done, but his +face, the while, she could not read; though (fascinated by the +difficulty) her glances changed to a steady gaze. It was quietly +grave--that was all and not all,--and the note was given back to her +with a smile that spoke both "thoughts" of the doctor, and pleasure for +any pleasure Faith might have from his basket. But then some of the +deeper feeling came out in his comments--and they were peculiar. He had +stood still for a second after reading the note,--his eyes looking down +at the cake--gravely; but then they came to her; and suddenly taking +her in his arms Mr. Linden gave her--it would be hazardous to say, as +many kisses as Dr. Harrison had gold pieces--but certainly as many as +he had put in the basket, and more. Faith did not read them, either, at +first,--till the repetition--or the way of it, told what they were; the +glad saying that she was his, beyond any one's power to buy her,--more +than all, an indemnification to himself for all the gold he could not +lay at her feet! There needed no speech to tell her both. + +A word or two had answered his demonstrations, first a wondering word, +and then afterwards a low repetition of his name, in a tone of humble +recognition and protest. Now she looked up at him with a child's clear +face, full of the colour he had brought into it. + +"Little darling," he said, "you will have your hands full of business!" + +"Oh Endy--I am very sorry!" + +"Sorry?" Mr. Linden said. "What about?" + +"I'm sorry that basket has come here!" + +"It gives you the means of making other people glad." + +"Yes--but,"--Faith looked uncomfortably at the basket. Then brought her +eyes back to Mr. Linden's face. "What ought I to do, Endecott?" + +"The most good and the least harm you can in the circumstances." + +"How shall I,--the last?"--she said with a manner like a beautiful +child, truth struggling through embarrassment. + +"If you could contrive to make yourself disenchanting!" + +Faith passed that, and waited, her eyes making a grave appeal. Mr. +Linden smiled. + +"I am afraid you can only be yourself," he said. "And if Dr. Harrison +will not remove himself to a safe distance, there is not much to be +done, except with the money. Let him understand that you consent for +once to be his almoner, merely because you know better than he where +the need is,--that you take from him, as from anybody, a donation for +your poor and sick neighbours." + +"Must I write?" + +"No." + +"But, Endecott--is that all?" + +"All that I need say. You never did encourage him, Faith,--it may be a +long time before he gives you a chance to _dis_courage. There is one +thing I can do, if you wish." + +She had stood with an awakened, sorrowful look, the colour burning all +over face and brow. Now she startled and asked "What?" + +"Something you do _not_ wish. I can tell him that you belong to me." +But that indeed Faith did not wish. + +"Oh no, Endecott--I would rather manage it some other way. Now don't +let us lose any more of our afternoon with it--but come and tell me +what will be the best things to do with this money." + +"It is hard to tell all at once," Mr. Linden said as they once more +took their seats by the fire. "What have you thought of yourself?" + +"I know where one or two blankets are wanting. And O, Endy! there is +one place where I should like to send a rocking-chair--ever so common a +one, you know." + +"And if Ency Stephens had one of those little self-locomotive +carriages, she could go about by herself all day long." + +"How good that would be! as soon as the spring opens. You could send +one up from New York, Endecott. Do they cost much?" + +"I think not. And what do you say to taking a little portion of this +for the beginning of a free library for the poor people? If the thing +were once begun, Mr. Stoutenburgh would give you what you please to +carry it on,--and Mr. Simlins would help,--and so would I." + +"I was thinking of books!" said Faith, her eye dancing in an unknown +"library";--"but these would be books to _lend_. I think a great many +would like that, Endecott! O yes, we could get plenty of help. That is +a delightful plan!--I don't think I ought to be sorry that basket came, +after all," she added smiling. Mr. Linden smiled too--she was a pretty +Lady Bountiful! + +"Faith," he said, "suppose (it is a very presumptuous supposition, but +one may _suppose_ anything) suppose when my hands are free to take care +of my Mignonette, that I should have the offer of two or three +different gardens wherein to place her. How should I choose?" + +She coloured and looked at him somewhat inquiringly, then turned away +with a kept-in but very pretty smile. "I know," she said, "how you +would choose--and you would not ask me." + +"Yes I should, little unbeliever--I ask you now." + +"You would go," she said gravely--"where your hands were most wanted." + +"There spoke a true Sunbeam!" said Mr. Linden. But perhaps the word--or +something in the changing light of the afternoon--carried his thoughts +on to the night train which was to bear him away; for he left Dr. +Harrison, and baskets, and schemes, in the background; and drawing her +closer to his side talked of her affairs--what she had been doing, what +she meant to do, in various ways,--trying to leave as it were a sort of +network of his care about her. Then came twilight, and Mrs. Derrick and +tea; with Faith's light figure flitting to and fro in preparation; and +then prayers. And then--how fast the clock ticked! how fast the minutes +began to run away! + +The storm did not rest,--it blew and beat and poured down as hard as +ever, eddying round the house in gusts that made every word and every +minute within doors seem quieter and sweeter. And the words were many, +and the minutes too--yet they dropped away one by one, and the upper +glass was empty! + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + + +Faith fortified herself with a triple wall of mental resolves against +Dr. Harrison's advances. But when the doctor came again, a night or two +after Thanksgiving, there did not seem to be much that she could do--or +hinder. The doctor's lines of circumvallation were too skilfully drawn +for an inexperienced warrior like Faith to know very well where to +oppose him. He was not in a demonstrative mood at all; rather more +quiet than usual. He had just pushed an advanced work in the shape of +his golden cake; and he rested there for the present. + +To Faith's great joy, midway in the evening the doctor's monopoly was +broken by the entrance of Squire Stoutenburgh and a very round game of +talk. Faith seized the opportunity to present her claim for a free +library--answered with open hand on the spot. And when he was gone, she +sat meditating a speech, but she was prevented. The doctor, as if +unconsciously amusing himself, started a chymical question; and went on +to give Faith a most exquisite analysis and illustration. It was +impossible to listen coldly; it was impossible to maintain reserve. +Faith must be herself, and delight shone in every feature. Now could +Dr. Harrison enjoy this thoroughly and yet give no sign that he did so; +his eye watched hers, while Faith thought he was looking into depths of +science; his smile was a keen reflection of that on her lips, while she +fancied it called forth only by his own skill, or success, or +scientific power. He had produced the very effect he wanted; for the +moment, he had her all to himself. + +"Miss Faith," he said gently, as his demonstration came to an +end,--"you may command me for that library." + +Faith drew back and her mind returned to business again. The doctor saw +it, and was instantly sorry he had started the subject. + +"I was going to speak to you about that, Dr. Harrison. If you have no +objection, I shall take a little of that money you entrusted to me, for +it--the beginning of it. Only a little. The rest shall go as I suppose +you meant it to go." + +"I knew it was very sure to go right after it got into your hands. I +don't think I followed it any further." + +"It will make a great many people happy this winter, Dr. Harrison." + +"I hope it will," said he very sincerely; for he knew that if it made +_them_ it would her. + +"You have little notion how much," Faith went on gravely. "I will do +the best I can with it,--and if you had patience to hear, I would let +you know what, Dr. Harrison." + +"You do me less than justice, Miss Faith. You can hear me rant about +philosophical niceties,--and yet think that I would not have patience +to listen to a lecture from you upon my neglected duties!" + +"I didn't mean that, sir." + +He gave her a genial, recognizing little smile, which was not exactly +in his "part"--but came in spite of him. + +"Do you know, I should like to hear it, Miss Faith. I always like +lectures illustrated. What have you done already?" + +"There is an almost bed-ridden woman two miles off, who will bless +somebody all winter for the comfort of a rocking-chair--all her life, I +may rather say;--a common wooden one, Dr. Harrison." + +"That is a capital idea," said the doctor. "She will bless _you_, I +hope." + +"No, certainly! I shall tell her the money is not mine,--I am only +laying it out for a kind somebody." + +"Miss Faith," said the doctor,--"I am not kind!" + +"I think you are,"--was her gentle, somewhat wistful answer. The doctor +sprung up. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said he with all his comicality alive,--"Miss Faith +promised me a piece of pumpkin pie." + +He had it, and taking his old place on the rug slowly demolished it, +qualifying every morsel with such ridiculous correlative remarks, +allusions, and propositions,--that it was beyond the power of either +Mrs. Derrick or Faith to retain her gravity. But the moment the door +closed upon him, Faith looked sober. + +"Well, child?" said her mother. + +"Well, mother--I haven't written my French." + +And she sat down to write it, but studied something else. "Manage it +some other way"--she had said she would; it was not easy! What was she +going to do? the doctor asked nothing of her but ordinary civility; how +could she refuse him that? It was a puzzle, and Faith found it so as +the weeks went on. It seemed to be as Mr. Linden had said; that she +could do little but be as she had been, herself. That did not satisfy +Faith. + +It was a great relief, when about the middle of December the family +went to New York for a few weeks, and Dr. Harrison went with his +family. Once more she breathed freely. Then Faith and Reuben made +themselves very busy in preparing for the Christmas doings. Means +enough were on hand now. Reuben was an invaluable auxiliary as a +scout;--to find out where anything was pressingly wanted and what; and +long lists were made, and many trains laid in readiness against Mr. +Linden's arrival. And then he came! + +It was for a good week's holiday this time, and how it was enjoyed two +people knew--which was enough. Studies went on after the old fashion +during that week, and dinners and teas out made some unavoidable +interruptions, yet not on the whole unpleasant. And sleigh rides were +taken, day and night; and walks and talks not to be mentioned. Then the +Newyear's visiting--with such a budget of new varieties!--how pleasant +it was to go that round again together; and it was hard to make short +visits, for everybody wanted to see and hear so much of Mr. Linden. He +stayed one extra day after that--to see Faith when he had done seeing +everybody else, but then he went; and the coldness and quiet of winter +set in, broken only by letters. + +There was a break of another kind when Dr. Harrison came back, in the +middle of January; such a break to Faith's quiet that the coldness was +well nigh forgotten. She had doubly resolved she would have as little +as possible to do with him; and found presently she was having quite as +much as ever. + +The plan of rendering him a grave account of what she had done or was +doing with his money, so far as the plan regarded keeping him at a +distance, was a signal failure. Very simply and honestly it was done, +on her part; but it suited the doctor admirably; nothing could better +serve his purposes. Dr. Harrison heard her communication about some +relieved family or project of relief, with a pleasant sort of attention +and intelligence; and had skill, although really and professedly +unwonted in the like things, to take up her plans and make the most +happy suggestions and additions--often growing a large scheme upon a +small one, and edging in the additional means so insensibly, so +quietly, that though Faith saw he did it she could not tell how to +hinder and did not know that she ought. Mr. Linden had sent, as he +promised, his help for the library,--indeed sent from time to time some +new parcel; and without inquiring whether the money he had left for +_his_ poor people was exhausted, had sent her a fresh supply. But she +had none too much, from all sources. It was a winter of great severity +among the poorer portion of the community; work was hard to come by, +and the intense weather made food and clothing and tiring doubly in +demand. There were few starving poor people in Pattaquasset; but many +that winter lacked comforts, and some would have wanted bread, without +the diligent care of their better-off neighbours. And there as +everywhere, those who gave such care were few. Faith and Reuben had +plenty to do. But indeed not merely, nor chiefly, with the furnishing +of food to the hungry and firing to the cold; neither were those the +points where Dr. Harrison's assistance came most helpfully in. + +Little Ency Stephens wanted a flower now and then, as well as a +velocipede; and Dr. Harrison gave--not to Faith, but to Faith's hands +for her--a nice little monthly rose-bush out of the greenhouse. How it +smiled in the poor cottage and on the ailing child!--and what could +Faith do but with a swelling heart to wish good to the giver. A smoky +chimney was putting out the eyes of a poor seamstress. Dr. Harrison +quietly gave Reuben orders to have a certain top put to the chimney and +send the bill to him. He even seemed to be undertaking some things on +his own account. Faith heard through Reuben that he had procured the +office of post-mistress in Pattaquasset to be given to the distressed +family she and Mr. Linden had visited at Neanticut; and that Mrs. Tuck +and Mintie were settled at the post-office, in all comfort accordingly. +But worst of all! there were some sick people; and one or two for whom +Faith dared not refuse his offer to go with her to see them. Dared +still less after the first time he had actually gone; so great and +immediate she found the value, not of his medicines only, but of the +word or two of hint and direction which he gave her towards their help +and healing. Faith began to look forward to May with a breath of almost +impatience. But a change came before that. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + + +The spring came, with all its genial influences. Not now with such +expeditions as the last spring had seen, but with letters to take their +place, and with walks of business and kindness instead of pleasure. +Yes, of pleasure too; and Faith began to find her "knight" not only a +help and safeguard, but good company. Reuben was so true, so simple and +modest--was walking in such a swift path of improvement; was so devoted +to Faith and her interests, besides the particular bond of sympathy +between them, that she might have had many a brother and fared much +worse. The intercourse had not changed its character +outwardly--Reuben's simple ceremonial of respect and deference was as +strict as ever; but the thorough liking of first acquaintanceship had +deepened into very warm affection on both sides. With Dr. Harrison +Reuben gained no ground--or the doctor did not with him. Though often +working for him and with him, though invariably courteous with the most +respectful propriety, Faith could see that Reuben's old feeling was +rather on the increase. + +With the spring thaw came a freshet. It came suddenly, at the end of +the week; every river and stream rising into a full tide of +insurrection with the melting snows of Saturday, and Saturday night +bridges and mill dams went by the board. Among the rest, one of the +railway bridges near Pattaquasset gave way, and a full train from the +east set down its freight of passengers in Pattaquasset over Sunday. +They amused themselves variously--as such freight in such circumstances +is wont to do. Faith knew that the church was well filled that Sunday +morning, but the fact or the cause concerned her little--did not +disturb the quiet path of her thoughts and steps, until church was out +and she coming home, alone that day, as it happened. Then she found the +walk full and _her_ walk hindered. Especially by two gentlemen--who as +the others thinned off, right and left, still went straight on; not +fast enough to get away from Faith nor slow enough for her to pass +them. They were strangers, evidently, and town bred. One of them +reminded Faith of Dr. Harrison, in dress and style--both belonged to a +class of which she had seen few specimens. But she gave them little +heed (save as they detained her,) nor cared at all for their discussion +of the weather, or the place. Then suddenly her attention was caught +and held. + +"By the way!" said one--"this is the very place where Linden was so +long." + +"Who? Endecott Linden?" said Dr. Harrison's likeness. "What was he here +for?" + +"Teaching school." + +"Teaching school!" echoed the other,--"Endecott Linden teaching +school!--Pegasus in pound!--How did the rustics catch him?" + +"Pegasus came of his own accord, if I remember." + +"Pshaw, yes!--but Linden. For what conceivable reason did he let +himself down to teach school?" + +"He didn't--" said the other a little hotly. "He wouldn't let himself +down if he turned street-sweeper." + +"True--he has a sort of natural dais which he carries about with +him,--I suppose he'd make the crossing the court end. But I say, what +did he do _this_ for?" + +"Why--for money!" said the first speaker. "What an ado about nothing!" + +"Inconceivable! Just imagine, George, a man who can sing as he does, +teaching a, b, ab!" + +"Well--imagine it," said George,--"and then you'll wish you were six +years old to have him teach _you_." + +"How cross you are," said his friend lazily. "And despotic. Was there +nothing left of all that immense property? I've just come home, you +know." + +"Not much," said George. "A little--but Endecott wouldn't touch +that--it was all put at interest for Miss Pet. He would have it so, and +even supported her as long as she staid in the country. What he works +so hard for now I don't understand." + +"Works, does he? I thought he was studying for the church--going to +bury himself again. It's a crying shame! why he might be member, +minister, Secretary, President!" + +"He!" cried George in hot disdain,--"he soil his fingers with politics! +No--he's in the right place now,--there's no other pure enough for him." + +"I didn't know you admired the church so much," said his friend +ironically. + +"I don't--only the place in it where he'll stand. That's grand." + +"And so he's at work yet?" + +"Yes indeed--and it puzzles me. That year here ought to have carried +him through his studies." + +"Why what can he do?--not teach school now,--he's no time for it." + +"He can give lessons--and does. Makes the time, I suppose. You know he +has learned about everything _but_ Theology. Olyphant was telling me +about it the other day." + +"What a strange thing!" said the other musingly, "such a family, so +swept overboard! What a house that was! You remember his mother, +George?" + +"I should think so!--and the way Endecott used to sing to her every +night, no matter who was there." + +"Yes," said the doctor's confrère--"and come to her to be kissed +afterwards. I should have laughed at any other man--but it set well on +him. So did her diamond ring in his hair, which she was so fond of +handling. How did he make out to live when she died?" + +"I don't know--" said George with a half drawn breath--a little +reverently too: "I suppose he could tell you. But all that first year +nobody saw him--unless somebody in need or sorrow: _they_ could always +find him. He looked as if he had taken leave of the world--except to +work for it." + +"How courted he used to be!"--said the other--"how petted--_not_ +spoiled, strange to say. Do you suppose he'll ever marry, George? will +he ever find any one to suit his notions? He's had enough to choose +from already--in Europe and here. What do they say of him off +yonder--where he is now?" + +"They say he's--rock crystal,--because ice will melt," said George. "So +I suppose his notions are as high as ever." + +"You used to admire Miss Linden, if I remember," said his friend. "What +a ring that was!--I wonder if she's got it. George--I sha'n't walk any +further in this mud--turn about." + +Which the two did, suddenly. Both stepped aside out of Faith's way, in +surprise--her light footfall had not made them lower their voices. But +in that moment they could see that she was a lady; in acknowledgment of +which fact the one gentleman bowed slightly, and the other lifted his +hat. Faith had thrown back her veil to hear better what they were +saying, not expecting so sudden an encounter; and as she passed, secure +in being a stranger, gave them both a view of as soft a pair of eyes as +they had either of them ever looked into, which also sought theirs with +a curious intentness, borne out by the high bright tinge which +excitement had brought into her cheeks. Both of them saw and +remembered, for swift as it was, the look was not one to forget. But +the glance added little to what Faith knew already about the strangers, +and she went on her way feeling as if a stricture had been bound tight +round her heart. + +The words about Mr. Linden's fastidiousness she knew quite enough of +him to verify; and in the light of these people's talk it almost seemed +to Faith as if there had been some glamour about her--as if she should +some day prove to be "magician's coin" after all. But though the old +sense of unworthiness swept over her, Faith was not of a temper to +dwell long or heavily upon such a doubt. Her heart had been strangely +stirred besides by what was said of his mother, and his old way of +life, and his changes. She knew about them of course before; yet as a +trifle, the touching of a single ray, will often give a new view of an +old scene,--those side words of strangers set all Mr. Linden's time of +joy and sorrow with such vivid reality before her, that her heart was +like to break with it. That effect too, more or less, passed away from +her mind,--never entirely. Another thing staid. + +"What he works so hard for now"--Then he was working hard! and doing +his own studies and correcting her French exercises, and giving her +lessons all the while, as well as to other people; and bringing her +gifts with the fruit of his work! And not an atom of it all could Faith +touch to change. She pondered it, and she knew it. She doubted whether +she could with any good effect venture so much as a remonstrance; and +the more Faith thought, the more this doubt resolved itself into +certainty. And all the while, he was working hard! Round that fact her +thoughts beat, like an alarmed bird round its nest; about as helplessly. + +Mrs. Derrick thought Faith was more grave and abstracted than usual +that day, and sometimes thought so afterwards; that was all Faith made +known. + +Dr. Harrison thought the same thing on the next occasion of his seeing +her, and on the next; or rather he thought she held off from him more +than usual; what the root of it might be he was uncertain. And +circumstances were unfavourable to the exactness of his observations +for some time thereafter. + +It was yet early in March, when Mrs. Stoutenburgh took a very +troublesome and tedious fever, which lasted several weeks. It was +reckoned dangerous, part of the time, and Mrs. Derrick and Faith were +in very constant attendance. Faith especially, for Mrs. Stoutenburgh +liked no one else so well about her; and gratitude and regard made her +eager to do all she might. So daily and nightly she was at Mrs. +Stoutenburgh's bedside, ministering to her in all the gentle offices of +a nurse, and in that line besides where Mr. Linden had declared Dr. +Harrison but half knew his profession. And there, and about this work, +Dr. Harrison met her. + +Their meetings were of necessity very often; but no lectures, nor +discussions, nor much conversation, were now possible. Faith felt she +had a vantage ground, and used it The doctor felt he had lost ground, +or at the least was not gaining; and against some felt but unrecognized +obstacle in his way his curiosity and passion chafed. He could see +Faith nowhere else now; she contrived not to meet him at home. She was +out with Reuben--or resting--or unavoidably busy, when he came there. +And Dr. Harrison knew the resting times were needed, and could only +fume against the business--in which he sometimes had some reason. + +One day he found her at her post in the sick room, when Mrs. +Stoutenburgh had fallen asleep. It was towards the end of the +afternoon. An open Bible lay on the bed's side; and Faith sat there +resting her head on her hand. She was thinking how hard Mr. Linden was +working, and herself looking somewhat as if she were following his +example. + +"What are you doing?" said the doctor softly. + +"I have been reading to Mrs. Stoutenburgh." + +"Feverish--" whispered the doctor. + +"No;--she has gone to sleep." + +"Tired her!--" + +"No," said Faith with a smile, "it's resting. The Bible never tired any +one yet, that loved it--I think." + +"Well people--" said the doctor. + +"Sick people! You're mistaken, Dr. Harrison. Sick people most of all." + +"Do you know that you will be sick next," said he gravely, "if you do +not take more care?" + +A fair little smile denied any fear or care on that subject, but did +not satisfy the doctor. + +"I do not approve of what you are doing," said he seriously. + +"Reading this?" + +"Even the same." + +"But you are mistaken, Dr. Harrison," she said gently. "There is +nothing so soothing, to those that love it. I wish you loved it! Don't +you remember you confessed to me once that somebody had told you you +had but half learned your profession?" + +Faith trembled, for she had said those last words wittingly. She could +not have spoken them, if the light in the room had not been such as to +hide her change of colour; and even then she dared not speak the name +she alluded to. But she had said it half as a matter of conscience. + +It drew forth no answer from the doctor, for Mrs. Stoutenburgh just +then stirred and awoke. And Faith little guessed the train she had +touched. There were no indications of manner; and she could not, as Dr. +Harrison went leisurely down the stairs, see the tremendous bound his +mind made with the question,-- + +"Is it _that book_ that stands in my way?--or HE!" + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh got well. And it was in Faith's mind then, by some +means to see very little more of Dr. Harrison till Mr. Linden should be +in Pattaquasset again. So much for human intentions. Faith fell sick +herself; and instead of being kept at a distance Dr. Harrison saw her +twice at least in the twenty-four hours. + +It was a doubtful privilege to see those soft eyes lustrous with fever +and a steady glow take place of the changing and flitting hues which +were as much a part of Faith's language, at times, as the movements of +a horse's ears are part of his. But as after a few days it became +evident that there was nothing dangerous about Faith's attack, it is +probable that the doctor rather enjoyed his position than otherwise. +The freedom and authority of his office were a pleasant advance upon +the formalities of ordinary intercourse; and to see Faith and speak to +her and touch her hand without any ceremonial but that of friendship, +was an advantage great enough to desire the prolonging thereof. Faith +was a gentle patient; and Dr. Harrison's care was unbounded; though it +was not alarming, even to Mrs. Derrick, as he assured her there was no +cause. + +For a week however Faith kept her bed, and even Dr. Harrison was glad +when at the end of a week she was able to be up again. Especially +perhaps as it was only in her wrapper and an easy chair; his office was +not at an end; the fever, in a remittent or intermittent form, still +hung about her and forbade her doing anything but taking care of +herself. + +Not precisely in this category of duty were the letters Faith had +written all that week. She had written them, how was best known by an +aching head and burning fingers and feverish vision. But an +interruption of them would have drawn on Mr. Linden's knowing the +reason; and then Faith knew that no considerations would keep him from +coming to her. It was towards the end of the study term; he was working +hard already; she could not endure that any further bar should be +placed in his way. None should for her. And so, bit by bit when she +could do but a bit at a time, the letters were written. Exercises had +to be excused. And Faith was at heart very thankful when at the end of +a sick week, she was able to get up and be dressed and sit in the +easy-chair and see the diamonds sparkling against her brown wrapper +again. + +It was April now, and a soft springy day. A fire burned gently in the +chimney, while a window open at a little distance let in Spring's +whispers and fragrances; and the plain old-fashioned room looked cosy +and pretty, as some rooms will look under undefinable influences. +Nothing could be plainer. There was not even the quaint elegance of Mr. +Linden's room; this one was wainscotted with light blue and +whitewashed, and furnished with the simplest of chintz furniture. But +its simplicity and purity were all in tone with the Spring air and the +cheer of the wood fire; and not at all a bad setting for the figure +that sat there in the great chintz chair before the fire; her soft hair +in bright order, the quiet brown folds of the wrapper enveloping her, +and the flash of the diamonds giving curious point and effect to the +whole picture. Faith was alone and looking very happy. + +It wanted but a few weeks now of Mr. Linden's coming home,--coming home +for a longer rest and sight of her; and Faith had not seen him since +January. Mrs. Stoutenburgh's illness and Faith's consequent fatigue had +in part accounted to him for the short letters and missing French +exercises, but she could see that such excuse would not long be made +for her,--his last one or two letters had been more anxious, more +special in their inquiries: how glad she was that he need have no +further cause for either. Partly musing on all this, partly on what she +had been reading, Faith sat that afternoon, when the well-known single +soft knock at her door announced Reuben Taylor. He came in with a glad +face--how sad it had lately been Faith had seen, sick as she was,--and +with both hands full of pleasant things. One hand was literally full, +of cowslips; and as he came up and gave her his other hand, it seemed +to Faith as if a great spot of Spring gold was before her eyes. + +"Dear Miss Faith," Reuben said, "I wonder if anybody can ever be +thankful enough, to see you better! You feel stronger than yesterday, +don't you, ma'am?" + +"_I_ can't be thankful enough, Reuben--I feel that to-day. How good you +are to bring me those cowslips! O yes,--I am stronger than I was +yesterday." + +That Faith was not very strong was sufficiently shewn by the way her +hands lay in her lap and on the arm of the chair, and by the lines of +her pale quiet face. _Bodily_ strength was not flourishing there. +Reuben looked at her wistfully, with a half-choked sigh, then knelt +down beside her chair, as he often did. + +"I didn't bring them all, Miss Faith--I mean, I didn't _pick_ them all. +Charlie and Robbie saw me in the meadow, and nothing would do but they +must help. I don't think they always knew which to pick--but I thought +you wouldn't mind that," he said as he laid the cowslips on the table, +their fair yellow faces shewing very fair in the sick room. Faith's +face was bright before, but it brightened still. + +"They look lovely to me--tell Charlie and Rob I will thank them when I +can. I don't thank _you_, Reuben,"--she said turning from the flowers +to him. + +"No, ma'am, I should hope not," he said, answering her smile +gratefully. "But that's not all, Miss Faith--for Ency Stephens sent you +one of her rosebuds,"--and Reuben took a little parcel carefully from +his pocket. "It's only wrapped up in brown paper, because I hadn't time +to go home for white. And she told me to tell you, Miss Faith," he +added, both eyes and cheek flushing--"that she prays every day for you +to get well and for Mr. Linden to come home." + +The smile died on Faith's face and her eyes fell. "He ought to have +this," she said presently, with a little flush on her own cheek. "I +don't feel as if it should come to me. Reuben, does she want anything?" +It was very rare, even now, for Faith to speak directly to Reuben of +Mr. Linden, though she was ready enough to hear Reuben speak of him. + +"No, ma'am, I think not," he said in answer to net question. "You +know--did you ever hear, Miss Faith?--that when Mr. Linden first went +there she was kept in the house the whole time,--nobody knew how to +take her out--or took the trouble; and Mr. Linden carried her half a +mile down the lane that very first day. And you can guess how he talked +to her, Miss Faith,--they said she looked like another child when she +came back. But is there anything I can do for you, ma'am, before I go +to the post-office?--it's almost time." + +"If you'll fill that glass with water for me, Reuben--that I mayn't let +my sweet cowslips fade--that's all. They'll do me good all to-morrow." + +Reuben went off, his place presently supplied by Mrs. Stoutenburgh; who +against all persuasion had insisted upon coming down to see Faith. And +then Faith was left to the calm companionship of her cowslips till +Reuben came back from the post-office. + +He came up to Faith's chair, and taking out the letter broke the outer +seal, (a ceremony he generally performed in her presence) and was just +removing the envelope when the doctor came in for his evening visit. +The doctor saw a tableau,--Faith, the cowslips, and Reuben,--Mrs. +Derrick by the window he hardly saw, nor what the others were about. +But that he had interrupted _something_ was clear--the very atmosphere +of the room was startled; and though Reuben's position hid both letter +and hands, it was certain the hands were busy. What was in them, and +what became of it, the doctor could not tell. Before he was fairly in +the room the letter had retreated to Reuben's pocket, and Reuben +stepped back and stood behind Faith's chair. + +The doctor laid a hand on his shoulder with a "How do you do" as he +passed; and accosted Faith with all the free kindliness which his +office of physician permitted him to add to the friend. The doctor took +all his advantage; he did not take more; and not Faith herself could +see that there was any warmer feeling behind his pleasant and pleased +eye and smile. But it is true Faith was a simpleton. She did not see +that his pleasantness covered keen scrutiny. The scrutiny found nothing. + +"How do you do?" he said. + +"I don't suppose I need say a word to tell you," Faith answered +smiling. "I am well enough to enjoy cowslips." + +The doctor's eye fell slightingly upon them, which was not wonderful. + +"I think you must be very well!" he said with some trifle of addenda +from lip and eye. "You see you are mistaken. I shouldn't have known how +well, except from your words." + +"_You_ are mistaken now, Dr. Harrison," said Faith in the slow quiet +way in which she spoke to-day. "You think these are not splendid--but +they are bits of spring!" + +"They are not Spring's best bits, I hope," said the doctor. + +"What do you think of that?" + +The doctor took the rosebud and looked at it. + +"If I were to tell you what I think of it," he said with a sort of +grave candour, "you would dismiss me, and I should come here no more!" + +"Reuben brought me that, Dr. Harrison, from the little lame girl you +sent the rosebush to, in the winter. I wish you knew how much good that +rosebush has done!" + +"I sometimes wish," said the doctor, "that I had been born in a +cottage!" + +"Why, in the world?" + +"It would be so pleasant to have people come and bring me rosebushes!" + +"Or cowslips?" said Faith. "Then you would have a taste for cowslips." + +"But then the people might get sick," said the doctor, waiving the +"bits of spring;"--"so I am content. How are you to-day?" He took +Faith's hand and felt it, and looked at her. The result did not seem to +be unsatisfactory on the whole. + +"You mustn't read too much in that book," said he, glancing over at it. + +"Why not?" + +"You must keep quiet." + +"For how long?" + +"It depends. There is a little enemy of fever hanging about your +skirts, that I will oppose with something else; but all you can oppose +to him is quietness." + +Faith thought of the words--"The rock of my defence and my +refuse"--what quietness was like that of their giving; but she said +nothing to the doctor. + +Dr. Harrison gave Mrs. Derrick her directions on various points; then +taking his old-fashioned stand on the rug, surveyed the easy-chair and +its occupant and Reuben still behind it. + +"By the way, Mrs. Derrick," said he carelessly,--"I have heard a pretty +story of your friend Mr. Linden." He noticed, but only that Faith had +glanced at him and was to all appearance quietly looking down at her +cowslips. + +"I dare say, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick placidly. "I've heard a great +many." + +"Have you heard it?" + +"Heard what?" said Mrs. Derrick. "It's an old pretty story that +everybody loves him." + +"I heard this only the other day," said the doctor. "It's not of that +kind. But stories will be stories--and people will tell them." + +How the colour flushed and paled in Reuben's cheek!--he stood resting +his hands lightly on the back of Faith's chair, looking down. The +colour on Faith's cheek did not change. + +"Who told this?" said Mrs. Derrick. + +"People that have known the family. They say, he has managed to run +through a very large property, and that he leaves his sister now to +live upon charity." + +It was impossible to tell from the doctor's manner whether he put any +faith in his story himself. It was as much like delivering a report as +bringing a charge. It might have been either! He saw Reuben's colour +become fixed and very high, but though the doctor could almost have +sworn that there was a rush of hid tears under the boy's drooping +eyelids, yet the lines about the mouth took the curl of an +irrepressible smile. Mrs. Derrick picked up two stitches, made a +third--then answered. + +"So that's what _you_ call a pretty story! It was hardly worth +remembering to tell us, doctor,--you and I, and Reuben, and Faith, know +better." Now could not the doctor tell for the life of him, whether the +words were simply innocent, or--simply malicious! Mrs. Derrick was so +imperturbable there, at her knitting! Neither did the doctor much care. +It sounded to him just like Mrs. Derrick. He looked at Faith; and +remarked lightly that "he didn't know anything!" + +Faith was very quiet; he could not see that her colour had risen more +than a little, and a little was not enough to judge by in her face. But +in an instant more after he had spoken, she looked full and gravely up +at him. + +"Do you believe everything about everybody, Dr. Harrison?" + +"On the contrary! I don't believe anything of anybody--Except you," he +added with a little smile. + +"Do you believe such a story?" + +Her steady soft eyes, which did not move from him, gave him an +uncomfortable feeling--perhaps of undefined remembrance. "I don't +believe it," he said returning her gaze. "I don't do anything with it. +Such things are said of everybody--and of almost everybody they are +true. I take them as they come. But about this particular case," he +said with one of his gentle looks, "I will do just what you say I must +do." + +Faith smiled. + +"I don't say you must do anything. I am sorry for you, Dr. Harrison." + +"I am glad you are sorry!" he said sitting down by her. "And there is +reason enough; but what is this one?" + +"You lose a great pleasure." + +"What one?"-- + +"You don't know how to trust." + +"Do I not?" said the doctor, looking at the rosebud still in his hand. +"Well--you shall teach me!" And springing up he bowed to Mrs. Derrick +and went off--rosebud and all. + +Reuben stood still for about half a minute--then came round, and +silently gave Faith her letter. + +"Reuben Taylor!"--said Faith, as he was going after the doctor. "You +have been standing so long--suppose you sit down for a minute?" + +Whatever Reuben thought of the request, he said nothing, but obeyed +her, bringing a foot cushion to her chair and bestowing himself upon +it. Faith smiled at him as she spoke again, though there was an +unwonted fire in her owe eyes; and the blood came fast now to her face. + +"Reuben, I wanted to ask you what all that colour is in your cheeks +for?" + +Reuben hesitated--there seemed a stricture across his breast which made +speaking hard work; but at last he said frankly, though in none of the +clearest tones, + +"Because I'm angry, Miss Faith--and hurt too." + +Faith's next words fell like pearls-- + +"It isn't worth the while." + +"No, Miss Faith," he answered without looking up. + +"It's too much honour to something that doesn't deserve +it,--and--Reuben--it's too little to something that does." + +"O no, ma'am! it's not _that!_" Reuben said, raising his eyes to her +face with the old earnest look. "But Miss Faith, there are some things +he can't bear to hear said--and said _so_," he added a little lower, +and looking down again. "And then--he's Dr. Harrison, and I'm only a +poor boy and mayn't answer him--and that fretted me; and it isn't the +first time, neither," Reuben said, as if he were making a clean breast +of it. "Oh Miss Faith! I'd rather have had him knock me down, than +speak such words!" Tears were getting the upper hand in the boy's voice. + +"Dear Reuben," said Faith, very quietly, though her cheeks were two +carnations,--"what I am most sorry for is Dr. Harrison." + +Reuben drew a long breath, with his "Yes, ma'am--I'm sorry for him too, +very often--when he talks about other things. But I don't believe even +you know just--just how false that was." Reuben spoke as if the words +choked him. "It's maybe never come in your way to know all he did here +for everybody, and--for me." + +There was a quick pulsation at that instant from Faith's heart to the +hand that held her letter,--but she only said, "Tell me!" + +"I couldn't begin to tell you all, ma'am," Reuben said, a smile coming +over his face now,--"nobody could but himself--and _he_ wouldn't +remember. I couldn't even tell you all he's done for me; but one +thing"--Reuben's eyes and voice fell and he spoke very low. "You know, +Miss Faith, the rate of schooling here is fixed by the trustees. And +the first day I came father told me to say he didn't know that he could +find the money for more than one quarter, but he had so much all ready, +and he wanted me to have so much. I thought it would be hard to ask, +but it was so easy--of him," Reuben said with that same smile. "Mr. +Linden didn't say much about it--only yes--but then he spoke to father +(that very day we were at the shore Miss Faith) and told him I should +come all the time--for the pleasure of teaching me." (Reuben thought +the compliment went all to Mr. Linden, or he would not have told it.) +"But father wouldn't do that,--he said Mr. Linden should have the money +as fast as he could get it; and if he didn't take it I shouldn't come. +And it was paid all the year, regularly. But then, Miss Faith----" +there was a pause. + +"What, Reuben?" she whispered. + +"Then instead of keeping it for himself, he put it all in the bank for +me.--And I never knew it till I opened the letter he gave me when he +was going away." + +The brightness of the hidden diamonds danced in Faith's face for a +minute--half hidden too, but it was there. + +"Reuben," she whispered, as he was starting up to go,--"what we have to +do is to pray for Dr. Harrison." + +"Miss Faith, how do people live who do not pray?" + +"I don't know!" + +But Faith's voice did not speak the thanksgiving which bounded in her +heart to Reuben's words. She sat back in her chair looking tired, with +her letter clasped fast in her hand. Reuben stepped forward and +arranged the fire softly--then giving her another wistful look he bowed +and went lightly out of the room. With gentle step Mrs. Derrick came up +to Faith, to kiss her and ask how she felt. Faith's eyelids unclosed. + +"Very happy, mother,--and tired too. Don't you think I could have a +light presently?" + +"This minute, pretty child. But lie down on the couch, Faith, and I'll +bring up the little table." + +That was done, and then Faith read her letter, with first a rapid and +then a slow enjoyment of it, making every word and sentence do more +than double duty, and bring the very writer near. And then she lay with +it clasped upon her bosom, thinking those flowing trains of half +feverish thought which are so full of images, but which in her case +flowed with a clear stream over smooth channels, nor ever met a rough +break or jar. Even Dr. Harrison did not make an exception, for Faith's +thought of him was constantly softened by her prayer for him. Her +mother drew near when the letter was at last folded up, and watched her +from the other side of the stand; but though mind and heart too were +full enough, she rightly judged that Faith needed no more excitement; +and so never mentioned Dr. Harrison's name, nor even asked how he came +to carry off the rosebud. + +Faith's trains of thought ended at last in a sleep which lasted till +past her tea-time. Mrs. Derrick was still by her side when she awoke, +and Faith opening her eyes as quietly as she had shut them, remarked, + +"Mother!--letters are great things." + +"Why child," said her mother smiling, "what have you been dreaming +about?" + +"Nothing.--That isn't a dream; it's a reality." + +Blessing in her heart the sender of the reality which gave such +pleasure, Mrs. Derrick answered, "Yes, child, it's real--and so's he." + +Faith said nothing to that except by her smile. She only spoke the hope +that she might be stronger the next day; a sentiment which though at +first sight it might seem to have nothing to do with the former +subject, was really in very close connexion with it. + +But Faith was not stronger the next day. The fever was not driven away +and strength was in the grip of it yet. The doctor gave her no new +directions, but insisted very much on quietness and care. There was +nothing to be apprehended of the fever but tediousness, and the further +and prolonged loss of strength; but that was quite enough to have to +avoid. For that she must take all sorts of care. He also said that the +case might go on without his oversight for a day or two, and that for +that space of time in the middle of the week he should be absent from +Pattaquasset, having a very urgent call of business elsewhere. + +And whether for that reason or needing no fresh one, the doctor having +stated so much went on to tell about other things, and made a long +visit. The talk came upon the Bible again, Faith didn't know how, and +grew very animated. Dr. Harrison had brought with him this morning one +of his pleasantest moods, or manners; he thought yesterday that Faith's +eyes had given him a reproof for slander, and he had no intent to +offend in the like way again. He was grave, gentle, candid, +seemingly--willing to listen, but that he always was to Faith; and +talked sense or feeling in a most sensible and simple way. Yet the +conversation ended with giving Faith great pain. He had asked her to +read something confirmatory or illustrative of the statement she was +making, out of the Bible; and Faith had complied with his wish. That +was nothing strange. She had often done it. To-day the reading had been +followed by a little observation, acutely put, which Faith felt raised +a barrier between him and the truth she had been pressing. She felt it, +and yet she could not answer him. She knew it was false; she could see +that his objection was foundationless--stood on air; but she did not +see the path by which she might bring the doctor up to her +standing-point where he might see it too. It was as if she were at the +top of a mountain and he at the bottom; her eye commanded a full wide +view of the whole country, while his could see but a most imperfect +portion. But to bring him up to her, Faith knew not. It is hard, when +feet are unwilling to climb! And unskilled in the subtleties of +controversy, most innocent of the duplicities of unbelief, Faith saw +her neighbour entangled, as it seemed, in a mesh of his own weaving and +had not power to untie the knot. It distressed her. Other knots of +skepticism or ignorance that he had presented to her she had cut easily +with the sword of truth if she could not untie; he had offered her one +to-day that she could cut indeed as easily for herself,--but not for +him. To do that called for not better wits, but for far greater +controversial acumen and logical practice than Faith knew. He did not +press his point, not even for victory; he gave the objection to her and +left it there; but while to her it was mere rottenness of reasoning, +she knew that for him it stood. It grieved her deeply; and Mrs. Derrick +saw her worn and feverish all the day, without knowing what special +reason there had been. She tried to stop Faith's working; but though +not fit for it, Faith would not be stopped. She dared not trust Mr. +Linden with any more excuses or put-offs; and a feverish cheek and hand +that day and the next went over her exercise and letter. And enjoyed +both, in spite of fever. But when they were done, late in the next day, +Faith lay down wearily on the couch and consoled herself with the +thoughts of the letter to come; it was the evening for one. + +It was the evening for one and yet one came not. Other letters +came--the great leather bag was tossed out on the station-house steps, +and thence borne off to the post-office, where five minutes later +Reuben Taylor came to wait for his share of the contents. But when with +the assurance which has never yet known disappointment, Reuben applied +at the window, Mintie gave him a rather coquettish-- + +"No, Mr. Taylor--you're not in luck to-day,--there's nothing for you." + +In his surprise Reuben tried every means to make himself and her +believe that she was mistaken; and urged a new examination of all the +letters, till Mintie made--or feigned to make--it, with the same +success. + +Reuben turned away from the office in real sorrow of heart. He had not +now to learn what store was set by those letters--especially now, when +Faith was sick,--he had noticed her holding of that very last one which +had come. And then, not merely to lose the pleasure, but to have the +disappointment!--Then too, what had hindered the letter? One sometimes +came out of time, but the expected one had never yet failed. Was Mr. +Linden sick?--and what would Miss Faith think?--the letter might fail +from other causes (hardly, Reuben thought) but what would _she_ +think?--herself so far from well. And then, should he go at once and +tell her--or let her find it out from his non-appearance? + +That last idea was promptly rejected,--she should at least not be in +suspense, and Reuben was soon at her door, as soon admitted. But he +came in very quietly, without that spring of step which had so often +brought a letter, and standing by her chair said gently,-- + +"Miss Faith, I didn't find anything to-night--but I thought I'd come +and tell you, for fear you'd be expecting." + +"Not find anything!"--said Faith raising herself half up, with the +start of colour into her pale cheeks. + +"No, ma'am,--they said at the office there was nothing. Maybe it will +come to-morrow." + +It hurt him to see the little patient droop of each feature as Faith +laid herself down again. + +"Thank you, Reuben," she said. "O yes, maybe it will." + +Words of consolation Reuben did not presume to offer, but there was a +great deal in his face and quiet low-spoken "Can I do anything +to-night, Miss Faith?" + +"No," she said cheerfully. "There's nothing. Isn't it time Mr. and Mrs. +Roscom had some fresh eggs, Reuben? Mother will give you them." + +Reuben only said he would stop there and see them. + +The letter did not come next day. Reuben came, as usual, in the +afternoon, but only to tell his bad success. He had not the heart to +bring cowslips again, and ventured no words to Faith but about some of +her poor people. That subject Faith went into fully. After Reuben was +gone she lay quiet a while; and took her indemnification in the evening +by getting Mrs. Derrick to read to her one or two of those strings of +passages which Faith called ladders. Whether she could mount by them or +not just then, her mother might; and hearing them Faith went to sleep. +She said nothing about her letters, except to tell Mrs. Derrick they +had not come. + +That day and the next were quiet days, being the days of Dr. Harrison's +absence. And if some accident had befallen Wednesday's letter, there +was good hope of one Friday. And as Friday wore away, Faith did not +know that she was counting the hours, and yet could at any time have +answered any question as to the time of day. It was one of those calm +days, within doors and without, which ebb away so noiselessly, that +only the clock tells their progress. Faith's little clock--(Mr. Linden +had amused himself with sending her one about as big as a good-sized +watch on a stand)--ticked musically on the table, suggesting a good +many things. Not merely the flight of time--not merely that the train +would soon be in, not merely that she might soon have a letter; nor +even that it, the clock, had seen Mr. Linden since she had. All these +thoughts mingled, but with them something else. They would tick on, +those minutes, relentlessly, no matter what they were to bring or take +away,--steady, unalterable, unchecked,--like the old idea of Fate. She +tried to be steady too--tried to have that fixedness of heart which +says confidently, "I will sing and give praise." But she was weak yet, +with the effect and even the presence of fever, and through all her +thoughts she seemed to feel those minutes tracking with light steps +across her breast. She lay with her hands clasped there, to still them. + +The sun began to slant his beams in at the window, and then with one +long screeching "Whew!"--the afternoon train flew through Pattaquasset, +tossing out the letter bag on its way. Then Faith waited--watching +intently for Reuben's step on the stairs. + +Reuben on his part had watched the letter-bag from the moment it was +thrown out, had followed it to the office, and there posted himself +near the window to have the first chance. But his prize was a blank. + +Sick at heart, Reuben drew back a little, giving way before Mintie's +rather sharp "I tell you no, Mr. Taylor," and other people's earnest +pressing forward to the window. But when the last one had gone--those +happy people, who had got their letters!--Reuben again presented +himself, and braved Mintie's displeasure by further inquiries; which +produced nothing but an increase of the displeasure. He turned and +walked slowly away. It might have been any weather--he might have met +anybody or heard anything; but when Reuben reached Mrs. Derrick's the +whole walk was a blank to him. What was the matter--how would Miss +Faith bear it--these two questions lay on his heart. In vain he tried +to lay them down,--for the very words which told him that "the Lord +doth not afflict willingly," said also that he doth afflict; and +Reuben's heart sank. He stood for a moment in the porch, realizing "how +people live who do pray"--then went in and straight upstairs, walked up +to Faith's couch when admitted, and without giving himself much time to +think, told his news. + +"Dear Miss Faith, you must wait a little longer yet. May I write by +to-night's mail and ask why the letter hasn't come?--it may have been +lost." + +Faith started up, with first a flush and then a great sinking of +colour, and steadying herself with one hand on the back of the couch +looked into her messenger's face as if there she could track the +missing letter or discern the cause that kept it from her. But Reuben's +face discovered nothing but his sorrow and sympathy; and Faith sank +back on her pillow again with a face robbed of colour beyond all the +power of fever's wasting to do. + +"Yes--write!" she said. + +Reuben stood still, his hands lightly clasped, his heart full of +thoughts he had perhaps no right to utter, if he could have found words. + +"I wish you'd write, Reuben," she repeated after a moment. + +"Yes, ma'am," he said, "I will. Only--dear Miss Faith! you know 'the +darkness and the light are both alike to Him.'" Reuben was gone. + +Faith lay for a few minutes as he had left her, and then slipped off +the couch and kneeled beside it; for she felt as if the burden of the +time could be borne only so. She laid her head and heart down together, +and for a long time was very still; "setting her foot on the lowest +step" of some of those ladders, if she could not mount by them. A +foot-hold is something. + +She was there yet, she had not stirred, when another foot-step in the +passage and other fingers at the door made her know the approach of Dr. +Harrison. Faith started up and met him standing. The doctor looked at +her as he came up. So pale, so very quiet, so purely gentle, and yet +with such soft strength in her eye,--he had not seen her look just so, +nor anybody else, before. + +"How do you do?" he said reverentially as he took her hand. + +"I am--well,"--said Faith. + +"Are you?" said the doctor gravely, eyeing the mark of unconquered +fever and its wasting effects even on her then.--"I am very glad to +hear it, indeed!" + +"I mean, that I feel--well," said Faith correcting herself. + +"You will feel better if you will take a more resting position," said +the doctor putting her into the chair. And then he stood and looked at +her; and Faith looked at her little clock, with her foot on that step +of her "ladder."--"He knoweth thy walking through this great +wilderness." + +"What have you been doing to yourself these two days?" said the doctor. + +"Nothing--" she said;--"more than usual." + +He laid her appearance all to the account of the fever, she was so +quiet; and proceeded to a new examination of the state of her hand, and +to give her various professional orders. + +"Miss Faith, can you do anything in the way of eating?" + +Her very face as well as her tongue seemed to answer him, "Not much." + +"Do you think of anything you could fancy?" + +"No."-- + +"I brought some birds home with me that I believe I can answer for. Try +to demolish the pinion of one of them--will you? It is a duty you owe +to society." + +"I will try,"--she said gravely. + +The doctor wondered whether she had laid up against him any of his +former conversation. + +"What do you think," he said with a kind of gentle insinuation,--"of +that argument I ventured to advance the other day, on the matter we +were speaking of?" + +"I don't like to think of it at all, Dr. Harrison." + +"May I know why not?" + +"Because I know it is false, and yet I cannot make you see it." + +"Can you make yourself see it?" + +"I don't need to take any pains for that. I see it very well." + +"Perhaps you will find the way to make me see it," said the doctor +pleasantly. + +"That would be easy," said Faith, "if--" + +"If what? May I not know the difficulty?" + +"If you really cared about it." + +"I do care about it. You mistake me when you think that. But you must +not think about anything now. Did you know I carried off your rosebud +the other night?" + +"Yes." + +It was impossible to tell from the doctor's accent how _he_ viewed the +transaction, and equally impossible from Faith's answer to tell what +she thought of it. Extremes meet--as Mr. Linden had once remarked. + +"I'll endeavour to atone for that presumption to-morrow," said he +rising, for Mrs. Derrick now entered the room. To her Dr. Harrison +repeated his orders and counsels, and to Faith's relief took himself +away. Her mother came up to the easy-chair with a smothered sigh on her +lips, and laid her gentle hand on Faith's forehead and wrist. + +"Child," she said, "has that man talked you into a fever again? I've a +great mind not to let him come any more--I guess I could cure you +better myself. If you'd send word to somebody else, Faith, we'd have +you well in no time." + +"I haven't heard from him to-night, mother." Faith felt the little +start of her mother's hand. + +"Maybe he's coming then," said Mrs. Derrick,--"he might have meant to +come yesterday and been hindered." Faith did not think that. + +"We shall know," she said to her mother. "We have only to wait and be +quiet." And she carried out both parts of her stated duty to perfection. + +There is a strange sort of strength in a certain degree of weakness--or +it may be that weakness runs sooner to its refuge, while strength +stands outside to do battle with the evil felt or feared. Faith's +gentle and firm temper was never apt for struggling, with either pain +or fear; it would stand, or yield, as the case called for; and now, +whether that her mind had been living in such a peaceful and loving +atmosphere, both earthly and heavenly, that it could settle upon none +but peaceful views of things, or that bodily weakness made her unable +to bear any other, she did mount upon one of those "ladders" and left +her burden on the ground. She thought she did. She was as quiet +outwardly as before; she told Mrs. Derrick, who looked at her in +misery,--and told her with a steady cheerful little smile, that "she +dared say the letter would come to-morrow." But it is true that Faith +had no power to eat that night nor the next day; and that she did not +know the hidden slow fever--not of disease--which was running through +all her veins and making the other fever do its work again, bright in +her cheek and eye and beating at her temples and wrist. But she was as +still and quiet through it all--quiet in voice and brow--as if letters +had been full and plenty. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + + +It was about midday of Saturday, when Reuben Taylor, proceeding up the +main street of Pattaquasset on some business errand for his father, was +joined by Phil Davids--no wonted or favourite associate or companion. +But Phil now walked up the street alongside of the basket which had +come "into town" with fish. + +"I say, Reuben," said Phil after some unimportant remarks had been made +and answered,--"does Mr. Linden ever write to you?" + +Reuben started--as if that touched some under current of his thoughts, +and answered "yes." + +"I wish he'd write to me," said Phil. "I know I'd like it. I say, +Taylor, what does he send you such thick letters about?" + +"Such thick letters!" Reuben repeated, with a quick look at his +companion. "People put a great many things in a letter, Phil." + +"I guess likely. That's what I say. What does he write to you about?" + +"Maybe I'll bring up one of 'em for you to read," said Reuben. "You've +heard him talk, Phil--he writes just so." + +"Does he? I guess you wouldn't like to miss one of his letters then, +Reuben,--would you?" + +"No." + +"I s'pose it would be a worse job yet to miss two of 'em--wouldn't it?" +said Phil with a perfectly grave face. + +"Phil Davids!" Reuben exclaimed, facing round upon him, with such a +flash of joy and hope and surprise and eagerness, as made Phil wonder. +"What do you mean?" he added checking himself. "Just turn your pockets +inside out, Phil, before we go any further." + +"When were you at the post-office?" + +"Last night--and this morning." Reuben forced himself to be quiet. + +"Well look here,--when you go there, don't you ask for letters?" + +"Ask!--I've asked till they were all out of patience." + +"Suppose you come to the right shop next time!" said Phil, importantly +producing the missing papers. + +"Phil! Phil!--" was all Reuben said. He caught the letters--and stood +looking at them with a face that made Phil look. "Mr. Linden will love +you all his life for this. But how in the world did you get them?" + +"That's exactly what I'd like somebody to tell me!" said Phil. "I know +who put the monkey's paw in the fire--but how the chestnuts got there, +I'm beat!" + +"What do you know?" said Reuben,--"where did you get these? Oh Phil! I +never can thank you enough!" + +"It was because they were _his_ letters I did it," said Phil bluntly. +"I wasn't going to let Mintie Tuck have 'em. But I say, Reuben! what +have you done to spite her? or has she a spite against Mr. Linden? or +who has she a spite against?" + +"I don't know. Did _she_ give 'em to you, Phil?" + +"Not by a precious sight nor to anybody else. Dromy saw 'em in her +drawer, and for all the gumph he is, he knew the writing; and I made +him get 'em for me this morning while they were at breakfast. Now +Taylor," said Phil settling his hands further down in his pockets as +they rapidly walked along,--"what bird's on _that_ nest?" + +Reuben listened--with an intentness that spoke of more than wonder. "In +her _drawer?_" he repeated,--"what, down in the office?" + +"Not a bit of it! Stowed away with her earrings and ribbands upstairs +somewhere." + +"Phil," said Reuben when he had pondered this strange information in +silence for a minute, "will you be in the office when the mail comes in +for a night or two?--and don't tell this to any one till Mr. Linden +sends word what should be done." + +"You expect more letters?" said Phil, with a not stupid glance at his +fellow. + +"Yes," Reuben said, too frankly to increase suspicion; "and if one +should come it's very important that I should get it. And of course _I_ +can't watch." + +"_She_ sha'n't get it!" said Phil. "I'll be there. I'll be Sinbad's old +man of the mountain for Mintie. I won't sit on her shoulders, but I'll +sit on the counter; and if there's a scratch of Mr. Linden's in the +mail-bag, I'll engage I'll see it as fast as she will. I know his seal +too." + +"_Could_ she have done it to tease me?" Reuben said,--"I've never had +the least thing to do with her but through that post-office window." + +"What did you ever give her through the post-office window?" Phil asked +half laughingly. + +"Questions enough--" Reuben said, his thoughts too busy to notice any +underhand meaning,--"and lately she's given me rather cross answers. +That's all." + +"Well what do you suppose she stole your letters for?" + +"I don't know enough about her to guess," Reuben said frankly. + +"Well," said Phil, "_I_ guess Dr. Harrison won't appoint the postmaster +of Pattaquasset when I am President. I rather think he won't." + +"I wish you'd make haste and be President," Reuben said. "But if he +didn't know anything about Mrs. Tuck, Phil, other people did--and +thought she was honest at least. And you know _she_'s postmaster, by +right." + +"_She_--is the female of Dromy!" said Phil with intense expression. +"But Mintie aint a fool, and it's _she_'s post-master--anyhow Dromy +says it's she that's Dr. Harrison's friend;--so that makes it. But that +don't tell why she wants the letters." + +"Dr. Harrison's friend?" said Reuben,--"what does she have to do with +him?" + +"I aint a friend of either of 'em, so I don't know," said Phil. "But +girls with pretty faces will make friends with anybody!" + +A very high degree of masculine charity and correctness of judgment was +expressed in Phil's voice and words. Reuben made no reply--his charity, +of any sort, was not in a talkative mood, and the two parted kindly at +Phil's cross road. + +Not home to dinner now, for Reuben! The minutes of talk had seemed long +to his impatience; he had borne them, partly to get information, partly +to keep down suspicion. But now with Phil out of sight, he turned short +about and took the way to Mrs. Derrick's with almost flying steps. +True, he was not dressed for "Miss Faith's" room--but Reuben Taylor was +always neat and in order, and she must not wait. He hurried into Mrs. +Roscom's--there to leave his basket and every removable trace of his +work,--then on! + +Faith had spent the early morning upon her couch;--no need to ask if +she felt stronger than yesterday,--every line and feature shewed +prostration--and patience. Breakfast had been passed over nominally. +What Mrs. Derrick could do for her was done; what she could not, lay +heavy on the hearts of both as the one went down to make the days +arrangements, and the other lay still to endure. Reuben had not come +after the morning train--there was nothing even to expect till night, +and Faith lay listening to her little clock and watching the passage of +the April sunbeams through her room. + +Suddenly a loud startling rap at the front door. But she was powerless +to go and see, and after that one sound the house seemed to sink into +perfect stillness. Then the door of her room opened, and Mrs. Derrick +came in bearing a large basket. A heavy one too, but Mrs. Derrick would +have spent her last atom of strength before she would have let any one +else bring it up. Her face looked quite radiant. + +"Pretty child!" she said, "here's something for you!" + +It was needless to ask questions,--Mrs. Derrick's face could have but +one meaning. Faith neither asked nor answered, except by the sudden +start of the blood into cheeks which were pale enough before. Slipping +from the couch she was on her knees by the basket, pulling out the ends +of the knots by which it was tied, with just a tiny beautiful smile at +work on her changed lips. Her mother went softly away (she thought the +first sight of anything in _that_ line belonged to Faith alone) and the +April sunbeams took a new view of things. + +The knots gave way, and the basket cover swung round, and the white +wrapping paper came off; and within lay something for her truly!--most +appropriate! A great stem of bananas and another of plantains, thick +set with fruit, displayed their smooth green and red coats in very +excellent contrast, and below and around and doing duty as mere +packing, were sunny Havana oranges, of extra size, and of extra +flavour--to judge by the perfume. But better than all, to Faith's eye, +was a little slip of blackmarked white paper, tucked under a red +banana--it had only these words-- + + 'Sweets to the sweet.' + + +"Faith, I should put in more, but the basket refuses. It is the measure +of only one part of the proverb--do you understand?" + + +Faith knew oranges, she had never seen bananas or plantains before. It +was all one; for the time being they were not bananas or oranges but +hieroglyphics; and the one fruit looked as much like Mr. Linden's +handwriting as the other. She sat with her arm resting on the couch +supporting her head, and looking at them. Not the finest picture that +Goethe ever viewed, or bade his friends view as part of their "duty," +was so beautiful as that basket of red and yellow fruit to Faith's eye. +And all the more for that foreign look they were like Mr. Linden; for +the common things which they said, it was like him to say uncommonly. +How very sweet was the smell of those oranges! and how delicious the +soft feeling of peace which settled down on all Faith's senses. Very +different from the sort of quiet she was in a quarter of an hour ago. +She did not trouble herself now about the missing letters. This told +that Mr. Linden was well, or he could hardly have been out to buy fruit +and pack it and pack it off to her. So Mrs. Derrick found her--reading +not words, but oranges and bananas; with a face it was a pity Mr. +Linden could not see. + +It may be remarked in passing that the face was not lost upon the one +who did see it. Mrs. Derrick came and stooped down by Faith and her +basket in great admiration and joy and silence for a moment--the sight +almost put everything else out of her head; but then she exclaimed, +"Child, the doctor's coming!--I saw him driving up to the door." + +Faith put the cover on the basket, and while Mrs. Derrick set it out of +sight, she received the doctor as yesterday, standing. But with a nice +little colour in her cheeks to-day, in place of yesterday's sad want of +it. Dr. Harrison came up with one hand full of a most rare and elegant +bunch of hothouse flowers. + +"My amends-making--" he said as he presented it. + +It was not in Faith's nature not to look pleasure and admiration at +such bits of kindred nature. They were very exquisite, they were some +of them new to her, they were all most lovely, and Faith's eyes looked +love at them. Dr. Harrison was satisfied, for in those eyes there was +to-day no shadow at all. Their gravity he was accustomed to, and +thought he liked. + +"How do you do?" he said. + +"I am--a great deal better. O mother--may I have a glass of water for +these?" + +"You said yesterday you were well, Miss Faith." + +"You saw I wasn't," said Faith as she put her flowers in the glass. + +"That is very true. And I see also that your statement to-day is not of +much juster correctness. How came you to say that?" + +"I said, it without knowing--what I said," Faith answered simply. "What +is this, Dr. Harrison?" + +The doctor puzzled over her answer and could make nothing of it. + +"That is a Fuchsia--and that is another." + +"How beautiful!--how beautiful. They are not sweet?" + +"You cannot _always_ have sweetness in connexion with everything else," +he said with a slight emphasis. Faith's mind was too far away from the +subject to catch his innuendo; unless other lips had spoken it. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said the doctor, "I should like as a professional man, +to know what portion of the wing of a robin this lady can manage for +her breakfast?" + +"Some days more and some days less," said Mrs. Derrick. "She was not +very hungry this morning." (A mild statement of the case.) + +"Some days less than the wing of a robin!" said the doctor. "The robin +himself is a better feeder. Mrs. Derrick, what fancies does this bird +live upon?" + +The allusion drew a smile to Faith's face, which Mrs Derrick did not +understand. + +"She don't tell all her fancies,--she has _seemed_ to live on tea and +toast, for eatables." + +The doctor smiled, and went back to Faith who was busy with the +flowers; or as Mrs. Derrick said, seemed to be busy with them. + +"Are those better than cowslips?" he asked lightly. + +"They are more wonderfully beautiful--they are not better in their +place." + +"How is that?" + +"I told you cowslips were bits of spring," said Faith smiling. "These +are not that. I think everything in the world--I mean, the natural +world--has its place, that it fills." + +"Better than any other would?" + +"I suppose so. Yes." + +"That is admirable philosophy," said the doctor. "Excellent to keep one +contented. Three feet of snow is then as good as May zephyrs! Daisies +and dandelions are fair substitutes for geraniums and cacti! And these +barren granite fields, where the skeleton rock has hardly covered +itself skin deep with soil, are better than flowery prairies of rolling +land, and fertile wildernesses of roses!" + +"Well," said Faith; "you needn't laugh. I think they are." + +"By what transmutation of philosophy?" + +Faith's philosophy was put to the test by certain sounds which just +then came to her ear; the hall door opened and shut quick though +softly, and Reuben came lightly upstairs--two stairs at a time!--but +his knock at Faith's door was almost as quiet as usual. Whatever spirit +of energy was at work in him, however, calmed itself down at sight of +Dr. Harrison--whom he did not then stay to greet, but coming up with a +swift steady step to Faith's chair, knelt down there and gave her his +hand with, "Miss Faith, are you better to-day?" + +If a rosebud yesterday shut up in the cold had opened all its beams to +the sun,--that was Faith to-day, as she took Reuben's hand and held it. + +"That is a very devoted servant of yours, Miss Faith," said the doctor +pointedly. "I notice he gives you homage in true chivalric style. Does +the transmuting philosophy extend thus far also?" + +Faith turned the light of her face upon him as she answered, "I +shouldn't be worthy of one of those knights or of this, Dr. Harrison, +if I would change one for the other." + +Reuben had risen to his feet as the doctor spoke, and as he quitted +Faith's hand laid his own, with the slightest possible gesture, upon +the left breast of his coat; which did not mean (as it would with Sam +Stoutenburgh) that there was his heart--but that there were the +letters! Then stepping back with a bow acknowledging Dr. Harrison's +presence, Reuben went over to the window to speak to Mrs. Derrick. The +doctor had seen him before that morning from the window, as with some +ordered fish Reuben entered Judge Harrison's gate, and his dress was +the same now as then,--how the different offices could be so different +and so reconciled--or what _this_ office was, were matters of study. +But clearly Faith was as strong for her knight as her knight was for +her. + +"I didn't understand the transmuting philosophy in the former case," +the doctor remarked. + +"It is not that," said Faith with rising colour, for she had seen +Reuben's hand gesture. "It is just taking things as they are." + +"That is a philosophy deeper than that of transmutation!" said the +doctor. "I give it up. But what is the philosophy in this case?--" and +he nodded slightly towards Reuben. + +"If you ever know him, you'll know, Dr. Harrison," Faith said softly. + +"Is he so trustworthy?" said the doctor thoughtfully looking at him; +but then he gave his attention to Faith, and talked of herself and what +she was to do for herself; until seeing no prospect of the doctor's +being out of his way, Reuben was again passing them on his way out. The +doctor arrested him by a slight but pleasant gesture. + +"What are you doing now, Taylor?" + +"Nothing new, sir,--a little for my father and a little for myself." + +"I saw you doing something for your father, I think to-day. Doesn't +that hinder your studies?" + +"Mr. Linden used to say that one duty never _really_ hinders another, +sir." + +"Pleasant doctrine!" said the doctor. "I am tempted to try it now. If +you bestow a little time upon me, it will not perhaps interfere with +your going to dinner afterwards. Does Mr. Linden continue to hold some +of his supervision over you? Do you hear from him sometimes?" + +"Yes sir--both,"--was Reuben's prompt answer. + +"Then you have something to do with the post-office occasionally?" + +"Yes sir." + +"And know pretty well what everybody in Pattaquasset says of every +other body,--don't you?" + +"I don't need to go to the post office for that, sir," Reuben said +quietly. + +"No--I mean by virtue of another office--that which you exercise for +your father. But it is true, isn't it?" + +"Not quite, sir. Some people do not talk to me--and some I never stop +to hear." + +The doctor smiled a little, along with an acute look of approving +intelligence. + +"Well--do you happen to know what is said or thought of the people I +was the means of putting into the post-office, half a year ago?" + +"Not very well, sir. I haven't heard much said about them." + +"As far as your knowledge goes, they seem to be doing their duty?" + +"I make no complaint, sir." + +Dr. Harrison glanced at Faith with a not pleased expression, and back +again. "Does that mean that you have none to make, or that you will +make none? I am asking, you surely must know, not officially nor +judicially; but to gain private information which it is desirable I +should have; and which I ask, and expect to receive, confidentially." + +"Sir," Reuben said gravely, though with a manner perfectly respectful, +"why do you ask _me?_ The gentlemen of Pattaquasset should know more +about their own post-office, than the poor fishers of Quapaw. There is +a clannishness among poor people, sir,--if I had heard anything, I +should not like to tell you." + +The doctor got up and took his old position on the carpet rug, a very +slight air of haughty displeasure mixing with his habitual indolent +gracefulness. + +"This is your knight, Miss Derrick! Apparently the proverb of 'friends' +friends' does not hold good with him. When you are a little older, sir, +you will know--if you grow correspondingly wiser--that the fishers of +Quapaw or of any other point are precisely the people to know in such a +matter what the gentlemen whom it more nearly concerns, cannot get at; +and you have yourself given the reason." + +Faith looked at Reuben with a little inquiring wonder. But he made no +answer, either to her look or the doctor's words; indeed perhaps did +not see the former, for his own eyes were cast down. He stood there, +the fingers of both hands lightly interlaced, his face quiet to the +last degree of immovability. The doctor's first words, to Faith, had +brought a moment's flush to his cheeks, but it had passed with the +moment; gravity and steadiness and truth were all that remained. The +doctor recognized them all, but all as adverse or opposition forces. + +"I will not detain you longer, sir!--I told you, Miss Faith," he said +sitting down and changing his tone, "that I did not know how to cut up +cake--still less how to administer it. I found this family--very +poor--over at Neanticut, on some of my excursions;--and somewhat +carelessly thought they could perform the duty of taking papers out of +a bag, as well as wiser people. There is a girl too, the daughter, who +seemed clever enough. But I have had reason to doubt my own wisdom in +the proceeding, after all." + +Faith heard the door close after Reuben with the first of the doctor's +words to her. She listened to the rest with a divided interest. Her +mind had gone off to her basket of bananas, and was besides occupied +with a little lurking wonder at Reuben's impracticability. But with +nothing strongly, the feeling of weakness and lassitude was so taking +the upper hand of every other. The relaxing now began to tell of the +great tension she had borne for a day or two; the relaxing was entire, +for what the basket had begun Reuben's appearance had finished. Faith +was sure he had a letter for her, and so sat and looked at the doctor +like one whose senses were floating away in a dream--one of those +pleasant dreams that they do not wish to break. + +"You are faint!" said the doctor suddenly. "Mrs. Derrick, have you any +wine in the house? I should like some here." + +But Mrs. Derrick's first step (it seemed but that) was to Faith--taking +her out of the easy-chair and putting her on the couch before any one +had time to say ay or no. There she left her while she opened the +closet and got out the wine; bringing it then to Faith and setting the +doctor aside most unceremoniously. Faith had not quite reached the +fainting point, though she was near it from mere inanition. She drank +the wine, and smiled at them both like one who had a secret wine of her +own that she was taking privately. + +"What _will_ she eat, Mrs. Derrick?" said the doctor in real concern. +"Tea and toast won't do!" + +"I will take something presently," Faith said with another of those +childlike satisfied looks. They made Dr. Harrison very unlike himself, +always. He stood so now. + +"Doctor," said Mrs. Derrick, in her odd, free, rather blunt and yet +kindly way, "you are a very good doctor, I dare say, but you're not +much of a nurse. Now I am--and I'll find her something to eat,--you +needn't be uneasy." + +He looked at her with one of the best smiles that ever came over his +face; bright, free and kindly; then turned to Faith. + +"What made your knight so cross with me?" he said as he bent over her +to take her hand. + +"I don't know--" said Faith. "I am sure he had some good reason." + +"Reason to be cross!"-- + +"He didn't mean to be cross. You don't know Reuben Taylor." + +The doctor was inclined to be of a different opinion, for his brows +knit as soon as he had closed her door. + +"Now mother!" said Faith half raising herself,--"please let me have my +basket. I am going to try one of those queer things. That is what I +want." + +"Do you know what I want?" said Mrs. Derrick as she brought up the +basket. "Just to have Dr. Harrison find Mr. Linden here some day!" +Which severe sentence was so much softened down by the weight of the +basket, that it sounded quite harmless. + +Faith was too eager to get the cover off to pay present attention to +this speech. There they were again! the red and yellow strange, +beautiful, foreign-looking things which she was to eat; too handsome to +disturb. But finally a red plump banana was cut from the stem, and +Faith looked at it in her fingers, uncertain how to begin the attack. +Looking back to the little empty space where it had been, Faith became +"ware" of an end of blue ribband beneath said space. Down went the +banana and down went Faith. The loop of ribband being pulled gently +suggested that it was not able to contend with an unknown weight of +bananas; but when Faith partly held these up, the ribband yielded to +persuasion, and tugged after it into the daylight a tiny package--which +being unwrapped revealed a tiny oval case; wherein lay, last of all, a +delicate silver knife. Faith's face of overflowing delight it was good +to see. + +"O mother!--how just like him!--Mother!" exclaimed Faith,--"this is to +eat those with!" + +Could anything more be wanting to give bananas a flavour? They happened +moreover to hit the fancy the doctor had been so anxious to suit. Faith +liked her first one very much, and pronounced it very nearly the best +of all fruits. But being persuaded to try one, Mrs. Derrick avowed that +she could not eat it and wondered how Faith could; declaring that in +her judgment if a thing was sweet at all, it ought to be sweeter. + +If Dr. Harrison could have seen the atmosphere of peace and delight his +knit brows had left behind them! + +As soon as he was gone, Reuben brought up the letters. And with +sunshine all round her, Faith read them and went to sleep, which she +did with the little case that held her knife clasped in her hand. Sleep +claimed her while fever took its turn and passed away for the day. +Faith woke up towards evening, weak and weary in body, unable to make +much lively shew of the "merry heart" which "doeth good like a +medicine". + +"My studies don't get on very fast at this rate, mother," she remarked +as she sat in the easy-chair at her tea, unable to hold her head up. + +"This has been a hard day," her mother said sadly as she looked at her. +"Faith, I won't let Dr. Harrison pay any more such long visits! he +tires you to death." + +"It wasn't that. Mother--I think I'll have one of those things out of +my basket--I wish Mr. Linden had told me what to call them." + +Mrs. Derrick brought the basket and looked on intently. + +"When is he coming, child?" she said. + +Faith did not certainly know. Under the influence of a plantain and the +silver knife she revived a little. + +"Mother--what made you wish Dr. Harrison might meet Mr. Linden here?" + +"It would save him a world of trouble," said Mrs. Derrick kindly. "And +besides, child, I'm tired seeing him buzz round you, myself. Faith, Mr. +Linden would say that _he_ ought to be told you're sick." + +"I can judge for him once in a while," Faith said with a little bit of +a triumphing smile. + +"Well--" said her mother,--"you'll see what he'll say. I guess he'd +rather you'd judge for him about something else." + +From that time letters went and came through the Patchaug post-office. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + + +Faith rallied somewhat from the prostration that succeeded those days +of anxiety; but then the fever again asserted its empire, and strength, +little by little but daily, lost ground rather than gained it. Though +not ever very high, the fever came back with persevering regularity; it +would not be baffled; and such always recurring assaults are trying to +flesh and blood and to spirit too, be they of what they may. Faith's +patience and happy quiet never left her; as the weeks went on it did +happen that the quiet grew more quiet, and was even a little bordering +on depression. One or two things helped this uncomfortably. + +The sense of the extreme unpleasantness of such a meeting as her mother +had wished for, perhaps startled Faith to a fresh sense of what she had +to do in the premises. She resolved to be as grave and cool as it was +possible to be, in Dr. Harrison's presence. She would keep him at such +a distance as should wean him from any thoughts of her. Faith tried +faithfully to do what she had purposed. But it was very difficult to +keep at a distance a person who did not pretend to be near, or only +pretended it in a line where he could not be repulsed. He must see her +every day as her physician. He must be allowed the kindly expression of +kind feelings; he could not be forbidden to bring to his patient, as +her friend and physician, such things as he thought her strength, or +weakness, needed. These instances of thoughtfulness and care for her +were many. Birds, old wine from his father's cellar, flowers from the +greenhouse, and fruit from nobody knows where, came often; and the +manner of offering them, the quiet, unobtrusive, unexacting kindness +and attention, it was scarce possible to reject without something that +would have seemed churlishness. Faith took them as gravely as she could +without being unkind. Her illness helped her, and also hindered the +effect she wished to produce. Feeling weak and weary and unable for any +sort of exertion, it was the easier for her to be silent, abstracted, +unresponsive to anything that was said or done. And also her being so +signified the less and testified the less of her real purpose. Faith +knew it and could not help it. She could not besides be anything but +natural; and she felt kindly towards Dr. Harrison; with a grave +kindness, that yet was more earnest in its good wishes for him than any +other perhaps that existed for Dr. Harrison in the world. Faith could +not hide that, careful as she was in her manner of shewing it. And +there was one subject upon which she dared not be unresponsive or +abstracted when the doctor brought it up. He brought it up now very +often. + +She did not know how it was, she was far from knowing why it was; but +the pleasant talk with which the doctor sought to amuse her, and which +was most skilfully pleasant as to the rest, was very apt to glance upon +Bible subjects; and as it touched, to brush them with the wing of +doubt--or difficulty or--uneasiness. Dr. Harrison did not see things as +she did--that was of old; but he contrived to let her see that he +doubted she did not see them right, and somehow contrived also to make +her hear his reasons. It was done with the art of a master and the +steady aim of a general who has a great field to win. Faith did not +want to hear his suggestions of doubt and cavil. She remembered Mr. +Linden's advice long ago given; repeated it to herself every day; and +sought to meet Dr. Harrison only with the sling stone of truth and let +his weapons of artificial warfare alone. Truly she "had not proved +these," and "could not go with them." But whatever effect her sling +might have upon him, which she knew not, his arrows were so cunningly +thrown that they wounded her. Not in her belief; she never failed for a +moment to be aware that they were arrows from a false quiver, that the +sword of truth would break with a blow. And yet, in her weak state of +body and consequent weak state of mind, the sight of such poisoned +arrows flying about distressed her; the mere knowledge that they did +fly and bore death with them; a knowledge which once she happily had +not. All this would have pained her if she had been well; in the +feverish depression of illness it weighed upon her like a mountain of +cloud. Faith's shield caught the darts and kept them from herself; but +in her increasing nervous weakness her hand at last grew weary; and it +seemed to Faith then as if she could see nothing but those arrows +flying through the air. But there was one human form before which, she +knew, this mental array of enemies would incontinently take flight and +disappear; she knew they would not stand the first sound of Mr. +Linden's voice; and her longing grew intense for his coming. How did +she ever keep it out of her letters! Yet it hardly got in there, for +she watched it well. Sometimes the subdued "I want to see you very +much,"--at the close of a letter, said, more than Faith knew it did; +and she could not be aware how much was told by the tone of her +writing. That had changed, though that too was guarded, so far as she +could. She could not pour out a light, free, and joyous account of all +that was going on within and about her, when she was suffering +alternately from fever and weakness, and through both from depression +and nervous fancies. Most unlike Faith! and she tried to seem her usual +self then when she came most near it, in writing to him. But it was a +nice matter to write letters for so many weeks out of a sick room and +not let Mr. Linden find out that she herself was there all the while. +His letters however were both a help and a spur; Faith talked a good +deal of things not at Pattaquasset; and through all weakness and ailing +sent her exercises prepared with utmost care, regularly as usual. It +hurt her; but Faith would not be stopped. Her sickness she knew after +all was but a light matter; and nothing could persuade her to break in +upon Mr. Linden's term of study with any more interruptions for her. +And even to Mrs. Derrick she did not tell the keen heart-longing, which +daily grew more urgent, for that term to come to an end. + +Mrs. Derrick did sometimes connect the cause of her weariness with Dr. +Harrison, and was indignant in proportion. Faith looked at him with +different eyes, and her feeling was of very gentle and deep sorrow for +him. It was by the appeal to that side of her character that Dr. +Harrison gained all his advantage. + +Faith's shield caught his arrows of unbelieving suggestion and threw +them off from her own heart; she could not put that shield between them +and the doctor, and that was her grief. It grieved her more than he +thought. And yet, it was with a half conscious, half instinctive +availing himself of this feeling that he aimed and managed his attacks +with such consummate tact and skill. Faith would not have entered into +controversy; she would not have taken up a gauntlet of challenge; did +he know that? His hints and questions were brought into the subject, +Faith knew not how; but the point of view in which they always +presented themselves was as troublers of his own mind--difficulties he +would willingly have solved--questions he would like to see answered. +And Faith's words, few or many, for she was sometimes drawn on, were +said in the humble yearning desire to let him know what she rejoiced in +and save him from an abyss of false fathomless depth. It was more than +she could do. Dr. Harrison's subtle difficulties and propositions had +been contrived in a school of which she knew nothing; and were far too +subtle and complicate in their false wit for Faith's true wit to +answer. Not at all for lack of wit, but for lack of skill in fencing +and of experience in the windings of duplicity. So she heard things +that grieved her and that she could not shew up to the doctor for what +she knew them to be. + +"I am no better than this little knife!" she thought bitterly one day, +as she was looking at her favourite silver banana-carver;--"it can go +through soft fruit well enough, but it isn't strong enough or sharp +enough to deal with anything harder!--" + +Faith did herself injustice. It takes sometimes little less than +Ithuriel's spear to make the low, insidious, unobtrusive forms of evil +stand up and shew themselves what they are--the very Devil! + +"Reuben," said Faith one time when they were alone together,--"did you +ever hear any of the mischievous talk against the Bible, of people who +don't love it?" + +"Yes, Miss Faith,--I never heard a great deal at a time--only little +bits now and then. And I've felt some times from a word or two what +other words the people had in their hearts." + +"Don't ever let people talk it to you, Reuben, unless God makes it your +duty to hear it," she said wearily. Reuben looked at her. + +"Do you think he _ever_ makes it our duty, Miss Faith?" + +"I don't know!" said Faith, a little as if the question startled her. +"But you might be where you could not help it, Reuben." + +He was silent, looking rather thoughtfully into the fire. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "you remember when Christian was going through +the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the fiends came and whispered to him +all sorts of dreadful things which he would not have thought of for the +world. 'But,' as Mr. Bunyan says, 'he had not the discretion either to +stop his ears, or to know from whence those blasphemies came.'" Reuben +blushed a little at his own advice-giving, but made no other apology. + +There was much love and respect and delight in Faith's swift look at +him. Her words glanced. "Reuben, I am glad you are going to be a +minister!"--She added with the sorrowful look stealing over her face, +"I wish the world was full of ministers!--if they were good ones." + +His face was very bright and grateful, and humble too. "Miss Faith," he +said, taking up her words, "don't you love to think of that other +definition of minister?--you know--'ye ministers of his, that do his +pleasure.'" + +"In that way the world is full now," said Faith; "in all things except +men. But by and by 'the great trumpet will be blown' and 'they that +were ready to perish' shall come, from everywhere. It's good to know +that." + +"It's such a beautiful thing to know, just by believing!" Reuben +said,--"don't you think so, Miss Faith? And then whatever people say or +do, and if we can't find a word to answer them, we _know_ down in our +hearts, that the Bible is true. And so 'by faith we stand.'" + +"But we ought to find words to answer them, Reuben--or else, though +_we_ stand, they fall!" + +"Yes, ma'am--sometimes," Reuben said rather hesitatingly. "Only--I've +heard Mr. Linden say that a Christian must take care of his own +standing _first_, and do nothing to shake that; or else he may have his +own light blown out while he's trying to light other people's. You +know, Miss Faith, the five wise virgins would not give their oil to the +others. I've heard Mr. Linden talk about it very often," Reuben added +softly, as if he wanted to screen himself from the charge of +presumption. + +If Faith was bringing charges, it was against herself, for she sat very +silent and thoughtful, and weary also; for when for the fifth or sixth +time Reuben brought his eyes from the fire to her face he saw that she +had fallen asleep. + +Mr. Linden's letters about this time told two or three things, among +the rest that he might soon be looked for instead of letters. Moreover +that he felt sure he was wanted--and further, that Faith's letters had +changed. These two last things were not said in words, but Faith read +them none the less surely--read thus first that her letters really +_were_ different. Just what cause Mr. Linden assigned to himself, she +did not know, nor whether he had fixed upon any; but it was clear that +nothing but the fact that his freedom was so close at hand, kept him +from freeing himself at once and coming to Pattaquasset. And second +only to Faith did Mrs. Derrick long for his appearance. + +She had heard bits of the doctor's talk from time to time, but for a +while with some doubt of their meaning,--as whether he was reporting +what other people said, or whether she had heard him correctly. But +when by degrees the goodness of her hearing attested itself, _then_ +Mrs. Derrick's indignation began to follow suit. The doctor's object +she did not at first guess (perhaps made it, if possible, worse than it +was) but that made little difference. + +On this particular afternoon, when Faith woke up she found Reuben gone +and her mother keeping watch. The fair look that always greeted Mrs. +Derrick was given her, but otherwise the face she was studying was not +satisfactory. The roundness of the cheek was much lessened, the colour +was gone, and the lines of expression were weary though she had slept. +Or rather perhaps they were too gravely drawn. + +"Faith," said her mother decisively, "you want your tea. Can you eat a +broiled pigeon, if I broil it myself?" + +"I can eat a piece of one, if you'll take the rest, mother," she said +with a smile at her. "I eat a whole banana just before I went to sleep." + +"Well this ain't the doctor's pigeon, so I guess it will be good," said +Mrs. Derrick. "Sam Stoutenburgh brought it.--And I'm going to cook it +here, pretty child, because I want to be here myself. I suppose the +smoke won't trouble you if it goes up chimney?" + +"I'd like it, smoke and all, mother," said Faith, changing the +resting-place for her head. "But you needn't slight the doctor's +birds--they were as fine birds as could be--when I could eat them." + +"'Birds of a feather'"--said Mrs. Derrick laconically. And she drew out +some of the glowing and winking embers, and set thereon the tiny +gridiron with its purplish plump pigeon. "Sam's home now, Faith, and +you'd think he'd been through every degree of everything. But the first +thing he did was to go off and shoot pigeons for you." + +Faith was inclined to think he had not got above one degree. She sat in +her easy-chair and watched the play cookery with amused pleased eyes. + +"I should like to be in the kitchen again, mother--doing something for +you." + +"You shall do something for me presently," said her mother, as the +pigeon began to send out little puffs of steam and jets of juice, which +the coals resented. "_This_ one's fat, anyway--and there's a half dozen +more. The fun of it is, child, that Sam was afraid there weren't +enough!--he wanted to know if I was _sure_ they'd last till +to-morrow!--so I guess _he's_ not in a fainting away state. I told him +we'd roast beef in the house, for you to fall back upon, child," she +added with a little laugh, as she turned the pigeon. But her face was +very grave the next moment, with the sorrowful reality. "Pretty child," +she said tenderly, "do you feel as if you could eat a muffin or a +biscuit best?" + +"Mother, that pigeon is making me hungry, it smells so nice. I am sure +I can eat anything." + +"Well I _made_ muffins," said Mrs. Derrick, bustling softly about with +the little table and the tea-things. "Faith, I'm afraid to have Mr. +Linden come home and find your cheeks so thin." + +"I'm not," said Faith quietly. + +"My!" said her mother, "you never were afraid of anything he'd a mind +to do, child. But for all _I_ know, he may carry you off to Europe in +the next steamer. He's up to 'most anything," said Mrs. Derrick +stooping down by the pigeon, and giving it the persuasion of a few more +coals. + +Faith said languidly that she did not think there was much danger, and +Mrs. Derrick for the present concentrated her attention upon the tea +preparations. Cindy came up with a little teakettle, and Mrs. Derrick +made the tea, and then went down stairs to superintend the first baking +of the muffins, leaving the teakettle to sing Faith into a very quiet +state of mind. Then presently reappearing, with a smoking plate of +cakes in her hand, Mrs. Derrick took up the pigeon, with due +applications of butter and salt and pepper, and the tea was ready. It +was early; the sunbeams were lingering yet in the room, the air wafted +in through the window the sweet dewy breath of flowers and buds and +springing grass over the pigeon and muffins; and by Faith's plate stood +the freshest of watercresses in a little white bowl. These Reuben +brought her every day, wet from the clear stream where they grew, +shining with the drops of bright water, and generally sprinkled too +with some of the spring flowers. To-day the plate on which the bowl +stood had a perfect wreath or crown of mouse-ear,--the pale pink +blossoms saying all sorts of sweet things. The room was well off for +flowers in other respects. Dr. Harrison's hothouse foreigners looked +dainty and splendid, and Mrs. Stoutenburgh's periwinkle and crocuses +and daffodils looked springlike and fresh; while in another glass a +rich assortment of dandelions spoke a prettier message yet, from +Charles twelfth and his little compeers. + +"And the mouse-ear is come!" said Faith as she applied herself to the +refreshment of salt and watercresses. "I wonder whether Reuben does +this because he loves flowers him self, or because he knows I do. I +guess it's both. How lovely they are! How my dairy must want me, +mother." Which was said with a little recollective patient sigh. + +"I guess it can wait," said her mother cheerfully. "And I guess it'll +have to. You needn't think you'll be let do anything for one while, +Faith." + +"I guess I shall, mother. I am sure I am stronger to-day,--and Dr. +Harrison said I had less fever. And your pigeon is good. Besides, I +_must_,--if I can,"--said Faith, with an anticipative glance this time. + +"It's my belief, child," said her mother, "that if Dr. Harrison had +staid away altogether--or never staid here more than five minutes at a +time, you'd have been better long ago. But I think you _are_ better--in +spite of him." + +Of the two subjects Faith preferred the pigeon to Dr. Harrison, and +discussed it quite to her mother's satisfaction. But if silent, she +thought never the less. Both Reuben Taylor's words and her mother's +words quickened her to thinking, and thinking seemed of very little +use. The next day when the doctor came she was as grave and still and +unresponsive as she could be. And it had no effect on him whatever. He +was just as usual, he talked just as usual; and Faith could but be +grieved, and be silent. It did not enter her gentle imagination that +the very things which so troubled her were spoken on purpose to trouble +her. How could it? when they made their way into the conversation and +into her hearing as followers of something else, as harpies that +worried or had worried somebody else, as shapes that a cloud might take +and be a cloud again--only she could not forget that shape. It was near +now the time for Mr. Linden to come home, and Faith looked for his +coming with an hourly breath of longing. It seemed to her that his very +being there would at once break the mesh Dr. Harrison was so busy +weaving and in which she had no power to stop him. + +But the doctor's opportunity for playing this game was nearing an end, +and he knew it. He did not know that Mr. Linden was coming; he did know +that Faith was getting well. + +A day or two after the talk with Reuben it happened that Mrs. Derrick +was detained down stairs when the doctor came up to see Faith. The room +was full of a May warmth and sweetness from the open windows; and Faith +herself in a white dress instead of the brown wrapper, looked May-like +enough. Not so jocund and blooming certainly; she was more like a +snowdrop than a crocus. Her cheeks were pale and thin, but their colour +was fresh; and her eye had the light of returning health,--or of +returning something else! + +"You are getting well!" said the doctor. "I shall lose my work--and +forgive me, my pleasure!" + +"I will give you some better work to do, Dr. Harrison." + +"What is that? Anything for you!--" + +"It is not for me. That little lame child to whom you sent the +rose-tree, Dr. Harrison,--she is very sick. Would you go and see her?" + +"Did you think I would not?" he said rather gravely. + +"I want to see her very much myself," Faith went on;--"but I suppose I +could not take so long a ride yet. Could I?" + +The doctor looked at her. + +"I think the mother of the Gracchi must have been something such a +woman!" he said with an indescribable grave comic mien;--"and the other +Roman mother that saved Rome and lost her son! Or that lady of Sparta +who made the affectionate request to _her_ son about coming home from +the battle on his shield! I thought the race had died out." + +Faith could not help laughing. He had not been sure that she would +understand his allusions, but his watchful eye saw that she did. + +"Were you educated in Pattaquasset?" he said. "Pardon me!"-- + +All Faith's gravity returned, and all her colour too. "No, sir," she +said, "I have never been educated. I am studying now." + +"Studying!" said he gently. "You have little need to study." + +"Why, sir?" + +"There are minds and natures so rich by their original constitution, +that their own free growth is a fuller and better harvest than all the +schoolmasters in the world can bring out of other people." + +Again Faith's cheek was dyed. "I was poor enough," she said bowing her +head for a moment. "I am poor now,--but I am studying." + +In which last words lay perhaps the tiniest evidence of an intention +not to be poor always. A suspicious glance of thought shot from the +doctor's mind. But as it had happened more than once before, the +simplicity of Faith's frankness misled him, and he dismissed suspicion. + +"If you want an illustration of my meaning," he went on without change +of manner, "permit me to remind you that your paragon of +character,--the Rhododendron--does no studying. My conclusion is plain!" + +"The Rhododendron does all it can." + +"Well--" said the doctor,--"it is impossible to trace the limits of the +influences of mignonette." + +Faith looked grave. She was thinking how very powerless her influences +had been. + +"Don't you see that I have made out my position?" + +"No." + +"What sort of studying--may I ask it?--do you favour most?" he said +with a smile. + +"I like all kinds--every kind!" + +"I believe that. I know you have a love for chymistry, and Shakspeare, +and natural history. But I should like to know Mignonette's favourite +atmosphere." + +"The study I like best of all is the one you like least, Dr. Harrison." + +"What may that be, Miss Faith?" + +"The study of the Bible." + +"The Bible! Surely you know that already," he said in an interested +voice. + +"Did you think so?" said Faith quickly and with secret humbleness. "You +made a great mistake, Dr. Harrison. But there is nothing I take such +deep lessons in;--nor such pleasant ones." + +"You mistake me too, Miss Faith. I do like it. You are strong enough +for it to-day--I wish you would give me one of those lessons you speak +of?" + +"If you loved it, sir, you would not ask me. You would find them for +yourself." + +"Another mistake!" said the doctor. "I might love them, and yet ask +you. Won't you give me one?" + +She lifted to his a look so gentle and grave that he could not think +she was displeased, or harsh, or even unkind. But she answered him, +"No." + +"Don't you feel strong enough for it?" he said with a shade of concern. + +"Yes." + +"You think you have given me one lesson already," he said smiling, +"which I am not attending to. I will go and see your little sick child +immediately. But I don't know the way! I wish you were well enough to +pilot me. I can't find her by the sign of the rosebush?" + +"Reuben Taylor will take you there, Dr. Harrison, if you will let him. +He goes there often." + +"If I will let him! Say, if he will let me! Your knight does not smile +upon me, Miss Faith." + +"Why not?" + +"I'm sure I'm not qualified to give evidence," said the doctor half +laughing at having the tables turned upon him. "Unless his chivalric +devotion to you is jealous of every other approach--even mine. But you +say he will guide me to the rosebush?" + +"I am sure he will with great pleasure, Dr. Harrison." + +"And I will go with great pleasure--for you." + +He was standing before her, looking down. There was something in the +look that made Faith's colour come again. She answered seriously, "No +sir--not for me." + +"Why not?" + +"I can't reward you," said Faith; trembling, for she felt she was +speaking to the point. "Do it for a better reason." + +"Will you shew me a better?" + +She answered instantly with a bright little smile, "'Give, and it shall +be given unto you; full measure, pressed down, heaped up, and running +over, shall men give into your bosom.'" + +"In another world!--" said the doctor. + +"No--in this. The promise stands for it." + +"It's your part of this world--not mine; and unless you shew me the +way, Miss Faith, I shall never get into it."--Then more gently, taking +her hand and kissing it, he added, "Are you tired of trying to help me?" + +Faith met his keen eye, reddened, and drooped her head; for indeed she +felt weak. And her words were low and scarce steady. "I will not be +tired of praying for you, Dr Harrison." + +What swift electric current along the chain of association moved the +doctor's next question. He was silent a minute before he spoke it; then +spoke in a clear even voice. "May I ask you--is it impertinent--what +first led you to this way of thinking?--Sophy says you were not always +so." + +The colour deepened on Faith's cheek, he saw that, and deepened more. + +"The teaching is always of heaven, sir. But it came to me through the +hands of the friend who was so long in our house--last year." + +"And has that adventurer counselled you to trust no friend that isn't +of his way of thinking?" the doctor said with some haughtiness of +accent. + +Faith raised her eyes and looked at him, the steady grave look that the +doctor never liked to meet from those soft eyes. It fixed his, till her +eyes fell with a sudden motion, and the doctor's followed +them--whither? To that gloved forefinger which he had often noticed was +kept covered. Faith was slowly drawing the covering off; and something +in her manner or her look kept his eyes rivetted there. Slowly, +deliberately, Faith uncovered the finger, and in full view the +brilliants sparkled; danced and leapt, as it seemed to Faith, whose +eyes saw nothing else. She did not dare look up, nor could, for a +double reason. She sat like a fair statue, looking still and only at +the diamond sign, while the blood in her cheeks that bore witness to it +seemed the only moving thing about her. That rose and deepened, from +crimson to scarlet, and from her cheeks to the rim of her hair. + +She never saw the changes in her neighbour's face, nor what struggles +the paleness and the returning flush bore witness to. She never looked +up. She had revealed all; she was willing he should conceal all,--that +he could. It was but a minute or two, though Faith's measurement made +it a more indefinite time; and Dr. Harrison took her hand again, +precisely in his usual manner, remarked that it was possible he might +be obliged to go south in a day or two _for_ a day or two, but that he +rather thought he had cured her; and so went off, with no difference of +tone that any stranger could have told, and Faith never raised her eyes +to see how he looked. + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + + +Dr. Harrison sent away his curricle and walked home,--slowly, with his +hands behind him, as if the May air had made him lazy. To any one that +met him, he wore as disengaged an air as usual; his eye was as coolly +cognizant of all upon which it fell, and his brow never looked less +thoughtful. While his head never had been more busy. He kept the secret +of his pride--he had kept and would keep it, well; no one should guess +what he bore; but he bore a writhing brain and a passion that was +heaving with disappointment. To no end--except to expose himself--he +had worked at his mining operations all these months; nothing could be +more absolute than the silence of Faith's answer; nothing could be more +certain than the fixedness of her position. Against the very +impassableness of the barrier the doctor's will chafed, even while his +hope gave way. He ruthlessly called himself a fool for it too, at the +minute. But he was unused to be baffled; and no man pursues long with +such deliberate energy a purpose upon which he has set his heart, +without having all the cords of his will and his passion knit at last +into a cable of strength and tenacity. The doctor's walk grew slower, +and his eyes fell on the ground. How lovely Faith had looked--even +then, when she was putting him and herself to pain; how speakingly the +crimson hues had chased each other all over her face, and neck; how +shyly her eyelashes had kept their place on her cheek; with how +exquisite grace her still attitude had been maintained. And withal what +a piece of simplicity she was! What a contrast those superb diamonds +had made with the almost quaint unadornedness of her figure in its +white wrapper. A contrast that somehow was not inharmonious, and with +which the doctor's artistic taste confessed itself bewitched, though +Faith's only other remotest ornament was that very womanly one of her +rich brown hair. A piece of simplicity? Could she be beyond his reach? +With duty between,--yes; otherwise,--no! as all the doctor's experience +told him. And he walked leisurely past his own door, past the houses of +the village, on almost to the entrance of the woody road; then turned +and came with a brisker pace back. He still called himself a fool, +secretly; but he went into the library and wrote a letter. Which in +course of time was received and read by Mr. Linden between two of his +pieces of work. + +It appeared the next day that Dr. Harrison had changed his mind, or his +plans, about going south; for he came as usual to see Faith. In every +sense as usual; to her astonishment no traces remained of the +yesterday's conversation. The ease and kindliness of his manner had +suffered no abatement, although a little touch of regretfulness, just +allowed to appear, forbade her to doubt that she had been understood. +Spite of herself, she could not help being presently again almost at +ease with him. Nevertheless Faith wished he had gone south. + +She did not feel sure that Mr. Linden would be pleased with the state +of matters, as days went on, and she was sure she was not pleased +herself. There was something she did not understand. The doctor's +manner was not presuming, in a way; neither did he obtrude even his +sorrow upon her; yet he took the place of a privileged person--she felt +that--and she was obliged to see his pain in the very silence and in +the play of words or of face which she thought assumed to conceal it. +She was very sorry for him, and in the same breath thought she must +have been wrong in something, though she could not see how, or things +would never have come to such a point. + +She could not guess--how could she!--that the doctor was playing a +desperate game and had thrown his last stake on the chance of a flaw in +Mr. Linden's confidence towards her or in hers towards him, or of a +flaw in the temper of either of them, or a flaw in their pride, or +affection! There are flaws in so many characters! Did but either of +them lack moral courage, or truth, or trust, or common sense, like a +great many of the rest of the world--and the doctor had gained his +ground! For Dr. Harrison had determined that Faith's religious opinions +should not stand in his way; she should think as he did, or--he would +think with her! + +Of all this Faith knew nothing. She had only an intuitive sense that +something was not right; and doubt and annoyance kept her strength +back. She lost ground again. All summed itself up in a longing for Mr. +Linden to come. + +Meanwhile Mr. Linden had received and read the following despatch, and +studied and taught before and after it as best he might. + + + +_Pattaquasset_, _April_, 18--. + + + +"MY DEAR LINDEN, + + + +I do not know what impulse prompts me to write this letter to you--A +very strong one, probably, that makes fools of men--Yet even with my +eyes open to this, I go on. + +I have unwittingly become your rival. Not in fact, indeed, but in +character. I have been so unfortunate as to love a person you are +somehow concerned in--and before I knew that you had any concern of the +kind. That is a very simple story, and only one to be smothered--not to +be brought to open air,--were it all. But the course of the months +past, which has too late brought me this knowledge of myself, has also +made me believe that--had I a fair field--were there no contrary ties +or fetters of conscience--I should not love in vain. What those ties +are I know nothing--I have not asked--but the existence of _some_ +obligation I have been given to understand. With certain natures of +truth and duty, that is a barrier impassable. You would be safe, were I +to act out of honour. + +I am a fool, I believe; but I am not yet such a fool as not to know +that there is but one man in the world to whom I could write such a +confession. Nothing better prompts it than pure selfishness, I am +aware--but with me that is strong. I have that notion of you that you +would not care to keep what you held _only_ by priority of claim. I may +be wrong in the supposition upon which I am going--yet it is my chance +for life and I cannot yield it up. That were the lady _free_--in +conscience as well as in fact--she might be induced to look favourably +on me. I ought to add, that I believe such a consciousness has never +shaped itself to her mind--the innocence with which she may at first +have entered into some sort of obligation, would not lessen or alter +its truth or stringency to her pure mind. The game is in your own +hands, Linden--so is + + + +Your unworthy friend + + + +JULIUS HARRISON. + + + +P.S.--One thing further I ought to add--that a somewhat delicate state +of nerves and health, over which I have been for some time watching, +would make any rash broaching of this subject very inexpedient and +unsafe. I need not enforce this hint." + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + + +The spring opened from day to day, and the apple blossoms were +bursting. Mr. Linden might soon be looked for, and one warm May +afternoon Faith went in to make his room ready. It was the first day +she had been fit for it, and she was yet so little strong that she must +take care of her movements. With slow and unable fingers she did her +pleasant work, and then very tired, sat down in her old reading +window-seat and went into a long dream-meditation. It was pleasant for +a while, in harmony with the summer air and the robins in the maple; it +got round at last into the train of the last weeks. A fruitless reverie +ended in Faith's getting very weary; and she went back to her own room +to put herself on the couch cushions and go to sleep. + +Sleep held on its way after a peaceful fashion, yet not so but that +Faith's face shewed traces of her thoughts. Mrs. Derrick came softly +and watched her, and the spring air blew back the curtains and fanned +her, and brushed her hair with its perfumed wings; and one or two honey +bees buzzed in and sought honey from the doctor's flowers, and forsook +them again for the fields. + +Up there at last, following Mrs. Derrick, came Mr. Linden. With few +reasons asked or told of his sudden appearance; with little said even +of Faith's illness but the mere fact, he went up to the sunlit room and +there staid. Not restingly in Faith's easy-chair, but standing by the +low fire-place, just where he could have the fullest view of her. Mrs. +Derrick came and went,--he never stirred. The sunbeams came and +went--wrapped Faith in their bright folds and lay at his feet, then +began to withdraw altogether. They had shewed him the unwontedly pale +and worn face, and lit up the weary lines in which the lips lay asleep; +and just when the sunbeams had left it all, Mr. Linden became aware +that two dark eyes had softly opened and were gazing at him as if he +were a figure in a dream. So perhaps for a minute he seemed, touched +with the light as he was, which made a glorification in the brown locks +of his hair and gleamed about "pleasant outlines" standing as fixed and +still as a statue. But they were not statue eyes which looked into +hers, and Faith's dreamlike gaze was only for a moment. Then every line +of her face changed with joy--and she sprang up to hide it in Mr. +Linden's arms. He stood still, holding her as one holds some rescued +thing. For Faith was too weak to be just herself, and weariness and +gladness had found their own very unusual expression in an outflow of +nervous tears. + +Something seemed to have taken away Mr. Linden's power of words. He did +place her among the cushions again, but if every one of her tears had +been balm to him he could not have let them flow more unchecked. +Perhaps the recollection that they _were_ tears came suddenly; for with +very sudden sweet peremptoriness he said, + +"Faith, hush!--Are you so glad to see me?" + +She was instantly still. No answer. + +"What then?" The intonation was most tender,--so, rather than by any +playfulness, cancelling his own question. She raised her head, she had +dismissed her tears, yet the smile with which her glance favoured him +was a sort of rainbow smile, born of clouds. + +"That is a very struggling and misty sunbeam!" said Mr. Linden. "Is +that why I was kept out of its range so long?" + +Faith's head drooped. Her forehead lay lightly against him; he could +not see what sort of a smile she wore. + +"Whereupon it goes into seclusion altogether. Mignonette, look up and +kiss me--how much longer do you suppose I can wait for that?" + +He had no longer to wait at that time, and the touch of her lips was +with a tremulous gladness which was tale-telling. And then the position +of the lowered head and the hand which kept its place on his shoulder +shewed him that she was clinging, though with shy eagerness, like a +bird that with tired wing has found her nest. With one of those quick +impulses which to-day seemed to have taken the place of his usual +steadiness, Mr. Linden bent down and blessed her; in words such as she +never remembered from other lips. Not many indeed, but deep and +strong,--as the very depth and strength of his own human and religious +nature; words that stilled Faith's heart as with the shadowing of +peace; so that for the time she could not wonder, but only rest. They +made her tremble a moment; then she rested as if the words had been a +spell. But the rest wrought action. Faith drew back presently and +looked up at Mr. Linden to see how he looked. And then she could not +tell. Her puzzled eyes found nothing to remark upon. + +"Endy--I thought you would not be here for two or three days yet." + +"It was nearly impossible. My child, when did you get sick?" + +"O--a good while ago." + +"'A good while,'"--Mr. Linden repeated with grave emphasis. "Well do +you think it would have lengthened the time to have me come and see +you?" + +Faith's heart was too full, and her answer, looking down, was a +tremulous, quiet and tender, + +"I don't think it would." + +"Then wherefore was I not permitted?" + +"I didn't want you to come then." + +"And again, wherefore?" + +"Why you know, Endy. I couldn't want you till you were ready to come." + +"I should have been most emphatically ready! What sort of medical +attendance have you had?" + +"Good, you know. I had Dr. Harrison." + +"And he did his duty faithfully?" + +"I guess he always does--his medical duty," said Faith somewhat quietly. + +"Duty is a sort of whole-souled thing, to my mind," said Mr. Linden. +"Do you think all his ministrations did you good?" + +There was pain and wonder, and even some fear in Faith's eyes as she +looked at Mr. Linden. + +"They ought not to have done me any harm"--she said meekly. + +"_Did_ they, Faith? I thought--" Very softly and thoughtfully his +fingers came about her hair, his eyes looking at her, Faith could +hardly tell how. The pain of those weeks stung her again--the sorrow +and the shame and the needlessness. Faith's head sunk again upon Mr. +Linden's breast, for the tears came bitterly; though he could not know +that. He only knew that they came. Holding her with a strong arm--as if +against some one else; soothing her with grave kisses, not with words, +Mr. Linden waited for her to speak. + +"Child," he said at last, "you will do yourself harm. Has _he_ brought +on this state of the nerves that he talks about? And in what possible +way?" + +"Don't talk about it, Endy!--" said Faith struggling for +self-command--"I am foolish--and wrong--and weak. I'll tell you another +time."--But Faith's head kept its position. + +"Do you think I can wait, to know what has made my coming home such a +tearful affair?" + +"Yes. Because it's all over now." + +"What is over?" + +"All--that you wouldn't like." + +"Faith, you talk in perfect riddles!--It is well that what I can see of +this very pale little face is less puzzling. Did you tell Dr. Harrison +of your claim upon me?" + +"What?--" she said looking up. + +"Well.--You know what that claim is. Did you tell him, Faith?" + +Her eyes fell again. "Yes--at least--I shewed him my ring." + +"In answer to his suit, Faith?" + +"No.--He was talking as I did not like, one day."--Faith's cheeks were +growing beautifully rosy. + +"Was it to protect yourself, or me?" said Mr. Linden watching her. +Faith's glance up and down, was inexpressibly pretty. + +"Myself, I think." + +"You have a strange power of exciting and keeping down my temper, at +one and the same time!" said Mr. Linden. "What did he dare say to you?" + +"Nothing about me. It was something--about you--which I did not choose +to have him say." + +Mr. Linden smiled, and called her a little crusader, but the grave look +came back. Dr. Harrison had known, then, just what ties he was trying +to break,--had felt sure--_must_ have felt sure--that they were bonds +of very deep love and confidence; and thereupon, had coolly set himself +to sow mistrust! Mr. Linden was very silent,--the keen words of +indignation that rose to his lips ever driven back and turned aside by +Faith's face, which told so plainly that she could bear no excitement. +He spoke at last with great deliberation. + +"You may as well shew it to all Pattaquasset, Mignonette!--for all +Pattaquasset shall know before I have been here much longer." + +"What?--why?" she said startling. + +"For what you will, love. I think you need the protection of my name." + +Faith could not deny it; howsoever she looked quaintly grave upon the +proposition. + +"Do you know how you will have to scour the country now, and make +yourself as much as possible like cowslips and buttercups and primroses +and mouse-ear?" said Mr. Linden smiling. "One day you may be a Spring +beauty, and the next Meadow-sweet, and when I see you a wild pink I +shall feel comparatively happy." + +Faith with a very little laugh remarked that she did not feel as if she +ever should be anything _wild_. + +"What is your definition of wild?" + +"Not tame." + +"Does that meek adjective express the kind of pink you intend to be?" + +"I didn't say what I should be--I only spoke of what I am." + +"Shall I tell you the future tense of this very indicative mood?" he +said touching her cheeks. + +"If you know it!" + +"If I know it!--You will be (some months later) a Linden +flower!--whether wild or tame remains to be been." + +Unless Linden flowers can be sometimes found a good deal +deeper-coloured than pinks, there was at least very little present +resemblance. The only notice Faith took of this prophecy was an +involuntary one. The door softly opened at this point, and Mrs. Derrick +came in to announce tea. She stood still a moment surveying them both. + +"How do you think she looks, Mr. Linden?" + +His eyes went back to Faith, giving a quick reply which he did not mean +they should. "She looks like a dear child--as she is, Mrs. Derrick. I +cannot say much more for her. But I shall take her down to tea." + +Mrs. Derrick went joyfully off for shawls and wrappers. Mr. Linden was +silent; his eyes had not stirred. But he amused himself with taking +some of the violets from the table near by and fastening them in her +belt and hair; the very touch of his fingers telling some things he did +not. + +"Sunbeam, do you feel as if you could bear transportation?" + +"Not as a sunbeam. I could walk down, I think," said Faith. Mr. Linden +remarked that the truth of that proposition would never be known; and +then she was muffled in a large soft shawl, and carried down stairs and +laid on the sofa in the sitting-room. The windows were open for the May +wind, but there was a dainty little fire still--everything looked +strangely familiar; even Mr. Linden; though his face wore not just its +most wonted expression. He had laid her down among the cushions and +loosened her wrapping shawl, and paid a little attention to the fire; +and now stood in Dr. Harrison's favourite place, looking at +her,--perhaps trying to see whether she looked more like herself down +stairs than she had done above. He could not find that she did. Faith +felt as if a great cloud had rolled over and rolled off from her; yet +in her very happiness she had a great desire to cry; her weakness of +body helped that. Her head lay still upon the cushions with fingers +pressed upon her brow. She hardly dared look at Mr. Linden; her eye +wandered over less dangerous things; yet it saw him not the less. How +sweetly the wind blew. + +Mr. Linden went off to the window and picked three or four of the May +roses that grew there, and then coming to sit down by Faith's sofa +softly pushed one of the buds in between her fingers, and made the rest +into a breast knot which he laid on the white folds of her dress. He +put other roses in her cheeks then, but it was all done with a curious +quietness that covered less quiet things. Faith took the flowers and +played with them, venturing scarce a look of answer. With the wasted +cheek, the delicate flush on it, and all the stirred fountain of +feeling which she was not so able as usual to control, Faith was very +lovely; to which effect the roses and violets scattered over her lent a +help of their own. Mr. Linden looked at her,--giving now and then a +little arranging touch to flowers or hair--with an unbending face, +which ended at last in a very full bright smile; though just why it +rouged her cheeks so instantly Faith did not feel quite sure. She felt +the rouge. + +"I am glad you feel like yourself again," she remarked. + +"How do you know that I do?" + +"I think you look so." + +"Quite a mistake. I am only bewitched. That is somewhat like myself, I +must own." + +Faith's face made a remonstrance, not at all calculated to be +successful. + +"Please don't bewitch me then!" said Mr. Linden answering the look. +"You know I cannot help it--and on the whole you don't wish I could. +What do you think of her now, Mrs. Derrick?" he added, getting up to +roll the tea-table close to the sofa. The folding of Mrs. Derrick's +hands was significant. + +"Yes, but you must not look at her _so_," said Mr. Linden demurely +arranging the table and sofa angles in harmonious relation. "You should +look with cool unconcern--as I do." + +"_You!_" said Mrs. Derrick. "Well I should like to see that for once." + +Faith laughed again, and was ready for her supper after a new fashion +from what she had known for many a day past. There is no doubt but +cresses and broiled pigeon were good that night! + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + + +What a twitter of birds was in Faith's ears as she awoke next morning! +Perhaps they were not really more noisy than usual, but she seemed to +hear them more; and then it was a soft balmy morning, with a joyous +spring sunshine and a dancing spring air, which gave full effect to all +the bird voices. Faith listened to the chorus, the choir, the concert, +the solos, with a charmed ear. The minute's hush; the low +twitter--answered softly from bush and tree; the soft chiming in of +other notes; the swelling, quickening, increasing song--till every +sparrow and kildeer in all Pattaquasset drew his bow and clattered his +castanets with the speed and the eagerness of twenty fiddlers. Only in +this orchestra the heads turned gracefully on swelling throats, and for +the angular play of elbows there was the lifting flutter of joyous +wings; and the audience of opening leaves "clapped their little hands" +for an encore. + +Such were the sounds that came to Faith from without;--within her room, +Mrs. Derrick moved silently about, lighting the fire, arranging the +window curtains, the table and couch, laying out Faith's dressing gown +to air, but not saying a word to her yet, lest she might be asleep. +Faith could see the relief and gladness in every step her mother +took--and well knew why. On the white spread before her lay a glowing +little bunch of spring flowers, the last night's dew yet hiding in the +depths of the violets, and sprinkling the leaves of the May roses, and +making the windflowers look at her with wet eyes. Faith grasped these +and held a considerably long conversation with them; then found it in +her heart to speak otherwise. + +"Mother," said she, with a little smile upon the contented languor of +convalescence,--"you feel better!" + +Mrs. Derrick came quick to her side, and kissed her and stroked her +face. "Pretty child," she said, "so do you." + +Which fact Faith confirmed by setting about the business of dressing +with more energy and good will than she had for many a day brought to +it. The pale cheeks were not quite so pale this morning. The white +dress was tied round the waist with _that_ blue ribband of long +ago--never yet spoiled with wearing; and in it the roses and violets +made a spot of warmer colour. When at last she was ready, and had +stepped out into the hall, Mr. Linden met her there as he had done the +night after the fire; and as then, stayed her for a minute and scanned +her face: with a different look from then, with a different sort of +gravity, which gladness did not quite cover up. He asked no questions +but with his eyes, and did not say much but with his lips; then carried +her down to the breakfast-room. + +"Mignonette," he said, "what time to-day will it please you to take a +drive?" + +The pleasure of the idea brought the colour to Faith's cheeks. "I +suppose I had better ask Dr. Harrison first whether I may go," she said +gravely. + +"Not at all. He has nothing whatever to say about it." + +"Then as soon as he is gone, I am ready." + +"We will not wait for him," said Mr. Linden. + +"But Endy, later will do just as well, won't it?" + +"No, love--not half so well." + +"Why?" + +"Principally, because I want you to be out when Dr. Harrison comes." +And quitting that subject, Mr. Linden wheeled her round to the nearer +consideration of biscuits and coffee; leaving Dr. Harrison, for the +time, quite out of sight. Out of his own sight, that is; for Faith +plainly did not forget him. She was a delicious thing to take care of +this morning; in that delicacy of bodily condition to which the strong +love to minister, and a tenderness of spirit which grew out of other +things and which to-day she had no force to hide. And there was an +apprehension which Mr. Linden could see behind her eyes every time they +came to his face. Faith was gathering her powers for a struggle. Yet +she had no mind to begin it, and waited after breakfast till Mr. Linden +should bring up the subject again. He seemed in no haste to bring it +up. For some reason or other, he was in a mood that could not do enough +for her. It was a mood Faith must try. + +As the morning had worn on and she saw some preliminary movement on Mr. +Linden's part, which looked like action, she put her hand in his and +lifted her eyes to his face, with a gentle plea in them, speaking in +musical softness. "Endy, will you let me wait till Dr. Harrison has +made his visit?" The little hand was clasped and held fast. + +"He would not wish to see you with me, Mignonette--and I certainly will +not let him see you without." + +"O why, Endy?" + +"Because--Mignonette I cannot tell you. Don't ask me." + +Faith flushed and looked troubled but somewhat timid too, and asked no +more. She puzzled over the subject. + +"Then, Endy, suppose we don't go out to drive to-day?" + +"Suppose we do. What are you rouging your cheeks for?" he added +smiling. "Faith, I know I have no legal right to control your +actions--and yet in this case you must let me say for you what I should +for my sister or my wife." + +How Faith wished to know why. The rouge grew bright; but forbidden to +ask, she dared not ask. "Would you care if we did not go out to-day?" +she said with some timid hesitation. + +"Very much." + +She was silenced. That Mr. Linden had some strong reason it was plain; +not the less the thought of Dr. Harrison grieved her. But she said +nothing. Nor did he, upon that subject,--threw it to the winds +apparently. The first move was to take her up stairs again and bestow +her daintily among cushions, then to sit by her and spice her cup of +chicken broth with pepper and talk, till both it and Faith were warm, +and Mrs. Derrick in a state of delight. The good, sweet effect of which +mode of treatment, was shewn in the way "the fringed curtains" of +Faith's eyes were by and by dropped by sleep herself. When she awoke +Mr. Linden was gone; and Mrs. Derrick sat there keeping watch. + +"Has the doctor been here, mother?" + +"Why child," said her mother, "he's slipped off Stranger, in some of +his capers, and hurt his ancle,--so Reuben says he won't come till +to-morrow. Shall I tell Mr. Linden he may come up?" + +"Yes." Faith felt it a relief. + +Mr. Linden came to tell her the carriage was ready. + +It seemed to Faith as if Jerry knew his old driver, with such good will +did he set forth, with such little snorts of high spirit and tossings +of head and mane. Down the old farm road, among fields of fresh grain +and fresh ploughing, where blue birds sat on the fences, and jocund +dandelions sunned themselves by the wayside. The breeze came fresh into +Faith's face, tossing back her hair; and presently with the scent of +buds and flowers and ploughed land came a mingling of the sea breeze, +for Mr. Linden was driving that way. He was right to make her +come!--Faith felt it in her heart, and so did he. There had been few +words spoken hitherto, but now he turned to her with a smile of great +satisfaction, saying, + +"Mignonette, this breeze is telling upon your cheeks." + +"It is going all through me!" said Faith, drawing an eager breath of +appreciation. Mr. Linden gave her shawls and cushions some arranging +touches, and to her a glad word or two of answer, then drove on down to +the shore. Not at their usual bathing and picnic place, but at the +further out Barley Point; where the breeze came in its full freshness +and the waves rolled in white-crested. There he made Jerry stand still +for a while, and made Faith lean upon him and so rest. + +They were somewhat elevated above the sea, where the barren face of the +land broke down suddenly some twenty feet. With what a sweet dash the +waves broke upon the beach, chasing up the wet sand and laying down a +little freight of seaweed here and there: how the water sparkled and +glittered, and was blue and white and green and neutral tint,--how the +gulls soared and stooped and flapped their wings in the gay breeze, +before which the white-winged vessels flew on a more steady course. +Jerry pawed the turf, and shook his head in approbation, and Faith's +head lay very still. Perhaps Mr. Linden thought she had done talking +enough that day, for he was rather silent; only watching her lest she +should be tired, or have too much of the air. What he watched her for +all the rest of the time, was best known to himself. Her brow had its +old quiet again now, though her face was grave beyond its old wont; and +the eyes, as he could see them, were softly grave and softly glad +together, intently going from the white-tipped water to the +white-winged gulls and the clouds grey and white that sailed above +them. Suddenly, after a long roaming over the fresh life that was +abroad there, the eyes were lifted to his face. + +"Endecott--if I don't say anything, it is because I can't say anything +good enough!" + +"Faith," he said with that same glad look at her, "your face says that +you are getting better every minute. Not tired yet?" + +"I feel as if I was in a grand dream." + +"Do you?" said Mr. Linden,--"I am glad I do not. It brings me out of a +dream to see you begin to look like yourself. I have not felt so real +before since I came home." + +"You are real enough," said Faith; "and so is everything else. It is +only my feeling that is dreamy. And this air will wake me up, if I stay +here a little while longer. How good it is!" + +"Do you see that dark rock out in the midst of the waves? and how the +waves half cover and then leave it bare?" + +"Yes." + +"I was thinking of what Rutherford says of the changing, swaying, +unsteady tide of life-joys and sorrows,--'Our rock doth not ebb and +flow, but our sea.'" + +Faith thought her own life had not been much like that changing tide; +then remembered his had, in nearer measure. The next question was not +far off; she put it, looking up anxiously and regretfully. "Endecott, +what are you working so hard for?" + +A very gay change of face answered her. + +"So hard as what?" + +"As you do." + +"What makes you think I am working 'so hard,' little Mignonette?--have +I given you that impression? I did not mean it. Do I look overworked?" + +"No--" said Faith--"I think not,--but that is not the thing. Why do +you, Endecott?" + +It was a very gently put question, but put with eyes and lips as well +as the sweet voice, dainty in its half timidity mixed with the +sweetness. Mr. Linden looked down at her till the question was +finished, but then he looked off at the dancing water; the smile which +had been dawning upon his lips breaking out into very full sunshine. It +was a strange smile--very enjoying and yet a little moved. + +"Mignonette," he said looking down at her again, "do you know what a +dear little child you are?" + +Her eyes wavered, then faced him again with a sort of smiling gravity, +as not relinquishing their answer. + +"You will be dreadfully shocked if I tell you." + +"Shall I?"--she said, not believing him. + +"Yes. But what do you suppose I am doing?--what has put all this into +your head?" + +"I heard it," said Faith. + +"From whom?" + +"I don't know. But somebody that wondered what you were doing it for." + +"Most enigmatical information! What 'it' did somebody say I was doing?" + +"Working hard--giving lessons," said Faith dropping her voice. + +"Well--what else was I doing when I was here? _That_ should not shock +you, dear child." + +"You were _not_ doing anything else when you were here--that is the +very thing, Endecott." + +"Mignonette--I have done nothing to hurt myself, as you may see. I am +very strong to work." + +She gave a little grave glance at him, grave with a background of +regretfulness, and placed herself back in her former position; pushing +her questions no further. But Mr. Linden did not look grave. + +"I am quite willing to tell you all about my work," he said,--"that I +did not long ago was for two or three reasons which you will +understand. I told you once, dear Faith--upon a night which I shall +never forget--that I had means enough to carry me through my studies; +but two things made me take measures to earn a good deal more. One was, +that I would always rather work than not to have what I want to spend +in various good and pleasant ways." + +"Yes--?" she said a little eagerly. He looked at her with that same +smile coming over his face. + +"It will shock you," he said,--"however--The other reason was this. We +agreed how I should choose between two gardens wherein to place my +Mignonette. But it may chance that for even the offer of one I shall +have to wait--and for Mignonette I cannot. Voyez-vous, Mademoiselle?" + +Yes, plainly enough; as he could tell by the bright flush which mounted +up to her forehead and made her a Rhodora again. And doubtless Faith +would have said several things, only--she could _not!_ and so sat like +the stillest of scared mice; with no more words at command. Mr. Linden +laughed telling her he thought there was no hope of benefitting her +cheeks any further that day, and that to judge by her eyelids sleep +would be the next thing; and so turned the little carriage round and +Jerry's head towards home. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + + +Dinner was ready when they reached home, so that Faith was taken at +once to the table; and when dinner was over, up stairs to go to sleep. +And sleep held her well nigh all the afternoon. The sunbeams were long, +the light of day was growing gentle, when Faith at last awoke and +arose, with a tinge in her cheeks and a face getting to be itself +again. She put her hair and her dress in fresh order, and went softly +about doing the same office for several things in the room; thinking +all the while what Mr. Linden had been working for, and how shut her +mouth was from saying anything about it. + +"Where is Mr. Linden, mother?" + +"Down stairs." + +"I am going down too. I am quite well enough without being carried. +Come, mother." + +"He won't like it, child,--you'd better let me call him." + +"No indeed," said Faith. "I'll just take your arm, mother. It will do +me good." + +So softly and with a little wilful pleasure on Faith's part, the stairs +were descended; and not content with that, Faith went into the tea-room +and began as of old to give a delicate hand to the tea-table +arrangements. Then when all was done, slowly made her entrance into the +other room. But there, to Faith's dismay, were two gentlemen instead of +one, standing in the middle of the floor in earnest conversation. Both +turned the minute she opened the door, and Squire Stoutenburgh came +towards her, exclaiming, "Why Miss Faith!--nobody gave me any hope of +seeing you. My dear, are you as well as you look?" + +Faith's instant extreme desire was to quit the field she had so rashly +ventured upon. Her answer to Mr. Stoutenburgh, if made, was too +unintelligible to be understood or remembered; and meanwhile she was as +the Squire had hinted, looking very well, and a picture of dainty +confusion. It might not help the confusion, though it did put her face +more out of sight, to be rescued from the Squire's hands and placed in +the easy-chair. + +"No, she is not as well as she looks, Mr. Stoutenburgh, and therefore +you must not keep her standing." + +"I won't keep her--nor you neither--long," said the Squire. "Miss +Faith, I hope you'll keep _him_--standing or kneeling or something--all +summer. How long are you going to stay, sure enough?" + +"Till I must go." Faith heard the smile with which it was spoken. + +"Then I shall go home a happy man!" said Mr. Stoutenburgh, with a sort +of earnest heartiness which became him very well. "My dear, I'm as glad +as if you were my own daughter--and you'll let me say that, because +your father and I were such friends." With which original and sincere +expression of feeling the Squire went off. + +"You naughty child," Mr. Linden said, coming back to Faith's chair, +"who gave you leave to come down stairs? I shouldn't be at all +surprised if you had been after cream." + +"No I haven't, Endy,"--said Faith lifting up her face which was in a +sort of overwhelmed state. + +"What is the matter?" he said smiling. + +"Don't mind me," said Faith passing her hands over her face. "I am half +ashamed of myself--I shall be better in a day or two." + +"How do you feel, after your ride and your sleep?" + +"O well!--nicely,"--she said in happy accents. + +"What made you try to walk down stairs?" + +"I thought I could do it." + +"And knew I would not let you. Will you be in a talking mood after tea?" + +"I am now. I have been wanting to talk to you, Endecott, ever since you +got home." + +"What about?" + +"About these weeks." + +The summons to tea came then, however; but when tea was disposed of, +and Faith had come back to her sofa in the sitting-room, Mr. Linden +took his place at her side. + +"Now I am ready for 'these weeks,'" he said. + +Faith was less ready than he, though she had wished for the talk. Her +face darkened to something of the weary look with which he had found +her. + +"Endecott, I have wanted to see you dreadfully!" He looked pained--not +merely, she knew, because of that: but the thought had no further +expression. + +"What has been the matter, my dear child?" + +Faith's hand and head went down on his shoulder, as on a rest they had +long coveted. "I am afraid you will be ashamed of me, Endecott,--but I +will tell you. You know since I have been sick I have seen a great deal +of Dr. Harrison--every day, and twice a day. I couldn't help it." + +"No." + +"And Endy,--he used to talk to me." + +"Yes,"--the word was short and grave. + +"I don't know why he did it; and I did not like it, and I could not +help it. He would talk to me about Bible things." + +"Well?--He used to do that long ago." + +"And long ago you told me not to let him talk to me of his doubts and +false opinions. Endecott, I didn't forget that--I remembered it all the +while,--and yet he _did_ talk to me of those things, and I could not +tell how to hinder it. And then, Endecott--the things were in my +head--and I could not get them out!"--The manner of Faith's slow words +told of a great deal of heart-work. + +Mr. Linden did not start--but Faith felt the thrill which passed over +him, even to the fingers that held hers. Clearly _this_ was not what he +expected. + +"Faith,"--he said,--"has he touched _your_ faith?" + +Faith's head drew nearer to his, with a manner half caressing, half +shrinking, but the answer was a low, "No--never." + +"Child!" he said with a sort of deep terror in his voice,--"I think I +could not have borne that. I would rather he had won away your heart +from me!" + +Faith did not move, and seemed to herself scarce to breathe, such a +spasm of various feelings was upon her heart. "It did not, Endy,"--she +whispered. + +He stooped to kiss her, as if that was the only answer he could give +just then; merely saying, "Tell me all about it." + +"I don't know how he did it"--Faith went on hesitatingly, as if the +words were not easy to her;--"and always before I knew it was coming, +it was said,--something that troubled me; almost every time he came. I +don't know whether it troubled him too, or whether--But no matter what +it was said for! He would tell me of some question that had occurred to +him, or some difficulty that he could not understand; or else it was a +contrary fact that somebody else had stated, or a cunning explanation +that somebody had found out, or a discovery that was against the truth, +or some train of consequences and inferences that would undermine it. +And these things were always so curiously put, that though I knew they +were false, Endy--I never doubted that--I knew they were not the +truth;--yet I could not shew him that they were not; and that hurt me. +It pained me by day and by night;--but that was not all." Faith +hesitated. "These things never did touch my faith, Endecott--but it +seems to me now as if they had shut it up in a fortress and besieged +it. I hadn't a bit of comfort of it except by snatches--only I knew it +was there--for ever so long. When I tried to read the Bible, often I +could think of nothing but these thoughts would push themselves in +between--like a swarm of gnats humming in my ears;--and often I had no +good of prayer,"--she added in a yet lower voice. + +"Have you now?" Mr. Linden said. "Has that passed away?" + +She hesitated again, perhaps struggling with some emotion which she +would not let get the better of her. Her words were quiet. "It is +passing. Earth and sky are all cleared since you came--as I knew they +would be." + +Mr. Linden was silent and motionless,--looking down at her, curbing as +he best might the grief and indignation which were by turns as much as +he could manage. He did not speak for some time. + +"I think, Endy," said Faith, "I shouldn't have felt so if I had been +well and strong. I am almost sure it was partly that. I wasn't strong +in mind or body--and how I wanted you!" + +"And where _was_ my place in the world if not here!" + +"I didn't want you till you came," she said in a very sweet low tone. + +"Ah, child! you do not know what you are talking of,--nor what a snare +was spread for you." + +"Do you think that, Endy?" she said in a scared way. + +"What else?" + +"But he always seemed--I always hoped, he was really interested in +those things himself." + +"No man carries truth in one hand and falsehood in the other," said Mr. +Linden sternly. + +Faith was sitting upright, looking very thoughtful and very grieved. +"But you do not think, Endecott,--you do not think--there was no truth +in it?" + +His face caught her grieved look,--he answered slowly, "Child, you must +leave all that. I only know that he tried to get rid of every barrier +in his way." + +"And how in this, Endecott?--What?" + +"He doubtless thought your belief stood between him and your favour." + +"And that if he could change that!"--Faith's head sank with a low word +of pain. Mr. Linden was silent. She looked up again, with a face of +yearning sorrow which it was a pity perhaps Dr. Harrison could not see. +"And now," she said, "we never can do anything more for him!" + +But Mr. Linden was not ready for the wish,--the sternness of his face +did not relax this time even under the power of hers. Until as he +looked, with the sight of all her loveliness and the thought of all the +wrong done her, came the keen realization of why it had been +done;--then his look changed and saddened. + +"Endecott," she said after a while, humbly, "do you think any one who +loves Christ could be brought to disbelieve him?" + +"No--not really and permanently. The promise says, 'Because he hath set +his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him.'" + +"Then what did you fear so much for me, Endy?" + +She had cause for the question; he had spoken and looked and listened +with that intentness of sense which shews some hidden +anxiety,--measuring jealously every look and word of hers by some old +well-remembered standard. + +"You remember, dear Faith," he said, "that when the thieves set upon +one of the pilgrims, though he made out to keep his jewels yet they +took from him all his spending money; and in the want of that he went +to the end of his life." + +But the smile that answered him was an answering smile. Though there +was sorrow in it, and humbleness, and even fear, its fullest burdens +were the free guaranty that she was not hurt, and an untold wealth of +affection, that almost breathed out of the moving and parted lips. +"Endy,--it was only a cloud--I knew at the time it would scatter away +just as soon as you came. I knew it was a cloud, but I wasn't well." + +Mr. Linden lifted her face, gazing at it intently. "My little +Mignonette," he said, "are you sure that you 'hold fast the beginning +of your confidence?' Are you sure he has not dimmed the light that used +to shine so bright in your heart?--that he has not made heaven seem +less real, nor the promises of less effect? Are you sure, Faith?--If he +has, find it out now!" + +She had never seen him look so--never heard him speak with such +earnestness. The words seemed to come from the very depths of his +heart; freighted not only with their own moment, but with the pain +which the raising such questions had stirred in him. Faith knew little +of even the pictures of angels--if she had she might have thought of +one then. Her child nature would have thrown itself into his arms to +give the answer; as it was, the woman drew a little back and spoke with +veiled eyes. + +"If he has, I don't know it, Endecott. It was a cloud that hindered all +enjoyment from me,--I knew at the time it was no more. It is gone, or +almost. It was wrong to be on me at all--but I was weak and not well." +Her speech was very humble, and the innocent trembling of the lips was +as one might answer an angel. + +His eyes changed as she spoke, watching her still, but less clearly; +and bringing her where she had not dared to place herself, Mr. Linden +kissed her again and again--as one rejoices over what has been lost or +in deadly peril. Not many words--and those low and half uttered, of +deep thanksgiving, of untold tenderness. But Faith hid her face in her +hands, and though she did not shed any tears, shook and trembled. + +"This will not do, for you nor for me," said Mr. Linden. +"Mignonette--have my words grieved you? they need not--there was not a +breath in them harsher than a summer wind." + +"I didn't think it, Endy." + +"What are you thinking of, my child?" + +"Nothing--Never mind me,--" she said deprecatingly. + +"Tell me, Faith," he repeated. + +But she did not. The quivering emotion passed away or was overcome; and +then her answer was a very grave and sweet look and smile; still such a +one as might without any force have been given to an angel. + +"Faith, what will make you speak?--this?--Tell me what you were +trembling about--I shall begin to think you have grown afraid of me." + +"I don't think I have,--" she said very quietly. + +"You are a sort of willowbranch,--so very pliant that you glide out of +reach on the very breath that comes after you. Now I think the very +profound confidence I reposed in you this morning, deserves some +return. I'm afraid I cannot ask for it with such persuasive eyes." + +"It's no confidence--" said Faith. "I didn't know I had been in such +danger; and"--she spoke with some difficulty--"I didn't know what it +would be to offend you." + +"Did you think you could?" + +"If I did wrong--?" + +"Faith," he said, "do you know what I should expect 'if I did wrong,' +as you say?--that you would break your heart, perhaps, but never that +you would be offended. I should expect to find you more than ever my +sweet ministering spirit." + +A look of intense grave earnestness followed and echoed his thought +with one or two of her own; then her gravity broke in a radiant little +smile. "I am not exactly like you, Endecott," she said. + +"What is the precise bearing of that remark?" + +"You might be offended--where I should have no right,--" she said with +slow utterance and consideration of her words. + +"But _why_--little Arabic poem?" + +The colour started into Faith's cheeks, but she answered. "You are +better than I,--and besides,--you know, Endy!--it would be right for +you to do what it wouldn't be right for me to do." Her colour deepened +to brightness and her eyes were very cast down. Mr. Linden looked at +her--smiling a grave sweet smile. + +"Faith," he said, "I have heard--or imagined--that a man might have an +angel for his wife, but I never heard yet of a woman who had an angel +for her husband--did you?" + +Faith endeavoured to shield her eyes and cheek with a very insufficient +hand. "You put me in the witness-box,--what can I do?" she said. + +"You can do one thing as well as anybody I ever saw," Mr. Linden said, +taking her hand down. "Faith, where did you get such pink cheeks?" + +"What is an Arabic poem?" said Faith gravely. + +"A pretty thing that requires translating. Faith, I have a great desire +to take you all about Pattaquasset and tell everybody what you are to +be." + +"Endecott!"--said Faith with a startled glance. + +"What?" he answered laughing. + +"Why do you say so?" + +"Just imagine the delight of all Quapaw, and the full satisfaction of +the Roscoms. Shouldn't you like to see it?" + +Faith looked at him in a sort of frightened mood of mind, discerning +some earnest in the play. Mr. Linden's face did not reassure her, +though he carried the play at that time no further. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + + +If the fears of the night before had not quite been slept off, if the +alarming ideas had not all been left in dreamland, still it was hard +for anything but peace and pleasure to shew its head that morning. In +at Faith's window came the sunbeams, the tiny panes of glass shewed +each a patch of the bluest sky, and through some unseen open sash the +morning air swept in full sweetness. When Faith opened her own window, +the twitter and song of all manner of birds was something to hear, and +their quick motions were something to see. From the sweetbriar on the +house to the trees in the orchard,--from the mud nest under the eaves +to the hole in the barn wall,--what darting and skimming and +fluttering! Off in the orchard the apple trees were softly putting on +their nonpareil dress of blossoms, feeding the air with nectar till it +was half intoxicated; and down in the garden a little bevy of bells +stood prim and soft and sweet, ringing their noiseless spring chimes +under Faith's window. + +Under her window too, that is within close sight of it, stood Reuben +Taylor and Mr. Linden. Not watching for her just then as it appeared, +but intent upon their own concerns. Or rather, Reuben--in his usual +dark, neat dress and straw hat, with hands neither busy nor at rest, +but waiting and ready--was intent upon Mr. Linden--and Mr. Linden upon +his work. His hat was off, on the grass beside him, and he +himself--half sitting half leaning upon an old crooked apple tree, had +his hands full of cowslips--though what he was doing with them Faith +could not tell. Only from a fluttering end of blue ribband that +appeared, she could guess their destination. The two friends were +talking busily and merrily, with little cowslip interludes, and the +yellow blossoms sprinkled the grass all about the tree, some having +dropped down, others been tossed off as not worthy a place in the ball. +For that was the work in Mr. Linden's hands--something which Faith had +never seen. + +It was so very pretty a picture that Faith sat down to look at it, and +thoughtless of being found out, looked on in a dream. Mr. Linden's +threats of yesterday did come back to her shrinkingly, but she threw +them off; the time was too happy to bear the shadow of anything +weightier than apple blossoms. Faith looked out through them +admiringly, marvelling anew how Mr. Linden had ever come to like her; +and while her soft eyes were studying him, her heart made many a vow +before the time. She only felt the birds fly past; her mind was taking +strange glimpses into the future. + +Stepping jauntily out from the house, Sam Stoutenburgh came next upon +the scene, the springtime of his man's attire suiting well enough with +his years but not so well with his surroundings; too desperately smart +for the cowslips, bright and shining as they were there in the sun, too +_new_ for the tulips--though they had been out of the ground but a few +days. For + + In a little bit of garden ground + Where many a lovely plant was found, + Stood a tulip in gay attire! + His pantaloons green as ever were seen, + His cap was as red as fire. + + +But the tulip was at least used to his cap--which was more than could +be said of Sam and his hat. + +"Mrs. Derrick told me to come out here and find you, sir," he said. +"But what _are_ you doing, Mr. Linden?" + +"I am making a ball." + +"A ball!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Linden,--"gratifying one of my youthful tastes. Sam, +I'll lend you my hat." + +"Why! what for, sir?" said Sam, a little confused and a good deal +puzzled, while Reuben smiled. + +"Just to save you from the headache while you stand there in the sun," +said Mr. Linden, tying the ends of his ribband together. "It's a man's +hat, Sam--you need not be afraid of it. That's a good lesson in +whistling!" he said, looking up into the tree over his head, where a +robin had just come to exercise his powers. But as Mr. Linden's eyes +came back from the robin they caught sight of Faith at her window, and +instantly he was on his feet and made her a most graceful and low +reverence. Instinctively the two boys turned and followed suit--the one +with his straw hat the other with his beaver. + +Faith's contemplative quiet was broken up, and her face grew shy and +flushed as she gave her tiny grave signs of recognition; but a soft +"good morning" floated down to them, followed--nobody knows why--by a +more particular "Good morning, Sam." + +"Miss Faith!" said Sam affectingly, "are you always going to stay up +stairs?" + +"No--I am coming down presently. You are early to-day, Sam." + +"Not earlier than I've been some other days, Miss Faith." + +Faith nodded at him and left the window; threw round her the light +shawl which she was expected to wear because she had been sick, rather +than because the May air called for it, and prepared to go down. But in +the second of time which all this took, she heard her name called from +the orchard--not very loud but very distinct. + +"Faith!" + +She knew who called, and it was with a little startled thrill that she +presented herself at the window to answer the summons. Mr. Linden stood +close beneath it. + +"Can you catch this?" he said, looking up at her with laughing eyes. +And the soft cowslip ball came whirling up to bury its golden head in +her hands. If Faith saw anything else, it was the very evident +astonishment of one of the standers-by. But nevertheless she bravely +put her bright blushing face out again. + +"Thank you, Mr. Linden," she said. "It's too pretty to be thrown more +than once." + +"Are you ready to come yourself?" + +"Yes, I'm coming." + +He bowed and turned away, passing on into the house with so quick a +step that he was at the head of the stairs as soon as she was. + +"You are not going to carry me down to-day!"--said Faith starting back. +"I can walk down as well as you can--or at least I can as well walk +down." + +"There is no one in the parlour, Mignonette." + +"Then I'll not go there," said Faith smiling. + +"I'll take you to the garden, if you prefer it. Is the supposed fact of +your being able to walk down stairs any reason why you should not bid +me good morning?" + +There was neither that nor any other existing reason, to judge by the +quiet grace with which Faith drew near to give the required good +morning, or rather to permit Mr. Linden to take it; and then placed her +hand in his, as willing to have so much aid from him as that could +give. He held it fast, and her too, for a minute, while his other hand +busied itself with fastening in her belt a dewy, sweet, sonsie looking +little sprig of May roses. + +"How do you feel this morning?" he said when he was gravely considering +the effect. + +"Very much like Spring!"--Faith looked so, with her other hand full of +primroses. + +"And otherwise?" + +"I don't feel otherwise!" said Faith laughing; the first really free +merry look of laughter he had seen on her face since he came home. + +"You are the sweetest of all spring blossoms," Mr. Linden said, +carrying her off with perfect disregard of the supposed fact of her +being able to walk. At the foot of the stairs, however, she was +permitted to find her feet again. "Where will you go, dear child?--the +orchard is very wet, but you may venture as far as the door." + +"No, I have something to do," said Faith. + +"What have you to do?" + +"What I used to take care of--part of it. I'm so glad to do it again." + +"Not to-day--you ought not!--nor to-morrow. You must come in here and +sit quiet till breakfast, and for a few days more be content to be +'Love in idleness' as well as Mignonette. Will you promise?" he said, +seating her in the easy-chair, with open window, and breakfast table, +and a gay little fire to make the captivity pleasant. + +"But I like work, Endy--and a little won't hurt me. Those boys want +you--and I'll make the coffee." + +"Do you know, Mignonette, how pale you would be if I were away?" + +She shook her head. + +"I do," said Mr. Linden,--"and as I am in a mood for roses this +morning, I want you to let me bring 'those boys' in here--then they can +see me and I can see you." + +The roses came, started and brightened, and her eyes looked a soft +protest; but it was a minority protest and gave way, and her face after +all told him he might do what he liked. He gave her a reassuring smile, +and went back to the orchard, presently returning with Reuben and +Sam,--the one wearing a face of unqualified pleasure, the other of +almost as unqualified shyness. Sam was not quite sure that his ears had +reported correctly, but the doubt and the new idea were enough to +discompose him thoroughly. He listened eagerly to the answers Reuben's +words called forth, but seemed afraid to venture many himself. As for +Mr. Linden, he was combining another handful of flowers--covering his +amusement with very grave composure. + +It was not bad amusement; for the exquisite simplicity in Faith's +manner, with the contrast of the coming and going colour and the shy +eyelashes, made a picture that any one claiming interest in it would +have been a little proud of. And the roses in her belt and the cowslips +in her hand and the delicate lines of her face which health had not yet +rounded out again, all joined to make the vision a very fair one. She +was most shy of Sam, and did not look at Mr. Linden. + +"I haven't thanked you for your pigeons, Sam," she said, after a few +lively words with Reuben. + +"No, Miss Faith, please don't!" was the gallant rejoinder. + +"Weren't they worth thanks?" inquired Mr. Linden. + +"I thought they were, when I was eating them; and mother said they were +the best I had. Don't you like to be thanked, Sam?" + +"When it's worth while," said Sam. "But you know, ma'am--You know, Mr. +Linden, it's thanks enough to do anything for Miss Faith." + +"I know that very well." Quiet as the words were they brought all Sam's +ideas to the ground like his own pigeons. + +"Where are you now in college, Sam?" Faith went on perhaps because she +felt herself a coward. + +Sam made answer, in a more subdued state of mind than was usual when he +announced his Sophomorical distinctions. + +"What are you going to do when you come out?" + +"O I don't know, Miss Faith,--father says I can do just what I like." + +"And you don't know what that will be, Sam?" + +"No--" said Sam. "I can't even guess." + +"A man who can do what he likes ought to do a great deal," said Mr. +Linden. "Reuben, will you take the upper road home, and give these +flowers to Ency Stephens for Miss Faith?" + +"O yes, sir!" Reuben said. + +"No, Reuben! I didn't send them," said Faith eagerly. + +"Tell her," said Mr. Linden smiling, "that they came from Miss Faith's +garden, and that I shall bring Miss Faith herself to see her, just so +soon as she can bear such a long drive." The bunch of flowers was laid +lightly on her hands for her disposal. "Now I must send you two +collegians--present and future--away, for you have had your breakfast +and we have not had ours." + +At which remark Sam took Faith's hand with a bow of great perplexity +and reverence, and Reuben drew near and waited for the flowers. + +"Give them to her from Mr. Linden," said Faith, rosy red, as she put +them in his keeping;--"she will like that best, Reuben." + +Reuben thought he knew how to combine the two messages, and the boys +went off just as the coffee-pot came in. + +"Faith," said Mr. Linden coming back to sit down by her, "here is a +rosebud so much like you that I think I ought to wear it. What do you +consider the most appropriate way?" + +"How do gentlemen wear flowers?--You'll have to stick it in a +buttonhole," said Faith half grave and half laughing,--"if it must be +worn." + +"But that is to treat it as a common flower!" + +"You'll have to treat it so," said Faith glancing from the rosebud to +him. + +"Look at it," said Mr. Linden,--"do you see how very lovely it is?" + +She did look at it, more closely, and then at him with an appeal of +grave remonstrance, deep though unspoken. But it was met defiantly. + +"If I am to wear this, Mignonette, you must put it in place." + +Faith was a little shy of even doing so much, and besides was aware +that her mother as well as the coffee-pot had come upon the scene. +However she took the flower and succeeded in attaching it securely +where she thought it ought to go, on the breast of Mr. Linden's +waistcoat; by which time the resemblance between the two rosebuds was +perfect, and striking; and Faith drew back to her breakfast, glad to +have everybody's attention diverted to coffee, which she declared was +good with cowslips. It may be said that the diversion was not +immediate; for though her chair was at once wheeled round to the table, +yet Faith had to take her thanks then and there--in full defiance of +Mrs Derrick's presence. After that, however, Mr. Linden--to do him +justice--did change the subject. + +Cowslips and coffee went on well till near the end of breakfast, which +to say truth had been rather prolonged as well as delayed; and then +there came a front door knock. It was of no use for Faith to start, for +breakfast was not absolutely finished; and the next minute who should +come in from the hall but Miss Essie de Staff. As fresh as possible, in +white dress and black silk apron; her black hair from which she had +drawn off the sunbonnet, in shining order; the black eyes as well! +Perhaps they dilated on first seeing the party; more sparkling they +could not be. She advanced at a moderate pace towards the table, +looking and speaking. + +"Mrs. Derrick!--I didn't know you were such late people. I have come to +run away with your daughter, and thought I should find the coast clear. +Mr. Linden! I didn't know Pattaquasset was so happy as to have you +back, sir." + +"We have breakfast late for Faith's sake," said Mrs. Derrick, while Mr. +Linden rose and gave the lady first his hand and then a chair, +remarking that the happiness of Pattaquasset was pleasant news to him +too. + +"But Faith's well again, isn't she?" said Miss Essie, waiting to get +breath, mentally. + +"She's better," said Mrs. Derrick. + +"She goes out?" + +"She has been once." + +"Is that all? Well it will do her good to go again. Sophy Harrison and +I made up our minds that she and I and Faith would spend the day +together--and so I've come to fetch her. Do you believe in the +possibility of ladies falling in love with ladies, Mr. Linden?" + +"I have more knowledge of gentlemen's possibilities. Who is supposed to +be in danger, Miss Essie?" + +"Faith cannot go out to spend the day," said Mrs. Derrick decidedly. + +"Is it _danger?_" said Miss Essie. "Mrs. Derrick, why can't Faith go +with me? Faith, won't you go?"--She had come up close to the table and +stood by Faith's side, whom her eyes were now reading, or at least +endeavouring to spell out. + +"Not to-day, Miss Essie, thank you." + +"Thank me? you ought to apologize to me." Miss Essie took a chair in +that place, where she could "rake" the whole table. "Here will be Sophy +and me horribly disappointed. We had counted on you. Sophy is all +alone. You know, Faith, the doctor is laid up?" + +"We heard of it,"--Faith answered, not very easily. + +"Well, do you know he says he is going South?" + +"I heard so," said Faith. Miss Essie could not make much of the rising +colour in her cheeks, it came and went so easily! + +"What takes him off just now in such haste?--business?" + +Faith looked up and gave her inquisitor a full clear look, such as +curiosity never cares for, while she answered with quiet dignity, "He +did not tell me, Miss Essie." + +"It's a pity Dr. Harrison's just going now that you're just come," said +the lady of the black eyes, shifting her ground. "You used to be such +friends." + +"What is a friend?" said Mr. Linden--"By the way, Miss Essie, you +should make these cresses an excuse for at least eating salt with us, +and so prove your title to the name." + +"Dear me!" said the lady taking a handful,--"I thought a friend was +something more--more etherial than that!" + +"Than what, if you please?" + +"A person who eats your salt!--I don't love cresses. I am not one of +Nebuchadnezzar's family. Where did you get the fashion? It's French. +Dr. Harrison eats them. Did he teach it to you, Faith?" + +"I think I had that honour," said Mr. Linden. + +"I dare say you gave more lessons than were given in school," said Miss +Essie significantly. "What else did you learn of him, Faith?" + +Faith gave the lady only a glance of her soft eye, but her face and her +very throat were charged with varying colour. Her attention went from +cresses to cowslips. + +"I am saucy!" said the lady.--"Mr. Linden, are you coming back to the +bona fide school here? there'll be a great many glad." + +A very involuntary lesson to Miss Essie herself came longingly to Mr. +Linden's lips, but except from the slight play and compression of the +same she had not the benefit of it. He spoke as usual. + +"She has never learned the art of self-defence, Miss Essie, therefore I +pray you attack me. No, I am not coming back to the school--and to say +truth, I think there would be some people sorry--as well as glad--if I +did." + +"Your bad scholars?"--said the lady, not intent upon her question. + +"No--my good friends." + +"_I_ should be glad," said Miss Essie. "Who are your friends that would +be sorry? Dr. Harrison, for instance?" + +"The friends who like my present work better." + +"And you are going to be a clergyman?" said Miss Essie, leaning her +elbow on the table and 'studying' Mr. Linden, perhaps some other things +too, with her eyes. He smiled under the scrutiny, but merely bowed to +her question. + +"It's dreadful hard work!--" said Miss Essie. + +"Dreadful?--Miss Essie, you have not studied the subject." + +"No," said she laughing,--"I said 'dreadful _hard_.' And so it is, I +think." + +"'There be some sports are painful, but their labour delight in them +sets off'--is not that equally true of some work?" said Mr. Linden, +making one or two quiet additions to the breakfast on Faith's plate. +Which means of assistance Faith inadvertently disregarded and pushed +her plate away. + +"Do you suppose anybody delights in them?" said Miss Essie. "I can't +understand it--but perhaps they do. A minister is very much looked up +to. But one thing is certain--of all things the hardest, it is to be a +minister's wife!" + +"Of _all_ things! He must be a poor sort of a minister who lets his +wife have a harder life than his own." + +"He can't help it--" said Miss Essie, walking her black eyes about. "Of +course he don't wish it--but women always do have a harder time than +men, and a minister's wife particularly." + +"It's a comfort to think he don't wish it," said Mr. Linden with a sort +of resigned gravity. + +"Well it would not be much comfort to me," said Miss Essie. "When a +woman marries, she naturally expects her husband to belong to her;--but +a minister belongs to everybody else!" + +"I see I have not studied the subject," said Mr. Linden. "Miss Essie, +you are giving me most important information. Is this so inevitable +that I ought in conscience to warn the lady beforehand?" + +Miss Essie smiled graciously. "It would be no use,--she wouldn't +believe you. _I_ might warn her. I have seen it." + +"What have you seen?" + +"Why that!--that a woman who marries a minister needn't expect to have +any more of her husband than his clothes to mend." + +"Melancholy statement!" said Mr. Linden. + +"It's of no use to tell it to a man!" said Miss Essie. "But I have seen +it." + +"Not in my house." + +"I shall see it in your house, if you ever let me in there--but it will +be too late to warn then. Very likely _you_ will not see it." + +Faith sat with one hand shielding her face from this speaker, though by +that means it was more fully revealed to the other. Her other hand, and +her eyes as far as possible, were lost in the bunch of cowslips; her +colour had long ceased to be varying. She sat still as a mouse. + +"No, I shall not see it. To what end would your warnings be directed, +if they could reach her in time?" + +"To keep her from taking such a trying position." + +"Oh--" said Mr. Linden. "Have you no feeling for me, Miss Essie? It is +very plain why you scrupled to eat salt with me this morning!" + +"I'll eat salt with you as a single man," said Miss Essie,--"but if you +are going to be a minister, be generous, and let your wife go! Any +other woman will tell you so." + +"Let her go where? With me?--that is just what I intend." + +"Yes," said Miss Essie,--"and then--you'll never know it--but she will +sit alone up stairs and sew while you are writing your sermons, and +she'll sit down stairs and sew while you're riding about the country or +walking about the town; and she'll go out alone of your errands when +you have a cold that keeps you at home; and the only time she hears you +speak will be when you speak in the pulpit! And if you ask her whether +she is happy, she will say yes!--" + +Despite all her desperate contusion, the one visible corner of Faith's +mouth shewed rebellion against order. Mr. Linden laughed with most +unterrified amusement. + +"If she says that, it will be so, Miss Essie--my wife will be a most +uncompromising truth-teller. But in your picture _I_ am the one to be +pitied. Will she never sit on the same floor with me under _any_ +circumstances?" + +"More than you deserve!" said Miss Essie. "You to be pitied, indeed! +You know the man has the stir, and the talk, and the going from place +to place, and the being looked up to, and the having everybody at his +feet; and what has she?" + +Mr. Linden did not answer, even with his eyes, which were looking down; +and the smile which came at Miss Essie's last words, was clearly not +meant for her. His wife would have something--so it said and +asserted,--and his wife was not an indefinite, imaginary person,--it +said that too. And she was worth all that could be laid at her feet. +How much he had to lay there--what homage _his_ homage was--even of +this the face gave unconscious token. Miss Essie looked, and read it or +at least felt it, much more than she could well have put into words. +Then taking in review Faith's bowed head, she turned and spoke in quite +a different tone. + +"There is no use in talking to people, Mrs. Derrick. After all, mayn't +I have Faith?" + +"To spend the day? Oh no, Miss Essie!--she's not strong enough," said +Mrs. Derrick, rising from the table and beginning to put the cups +together. Faith left the party and went to the fire, which in the +advanced state of the May morning needed no tending. + +"Yet she must spend the day somewhere," said Miss Essie wheeling round. +"Faith!--what are you going to do with yourself?" + +"Nothing, Miss Essie,"--came softly from the fire-mender. But as her +hand moved to and fro with the tongs, the sparkle of the diamonds +caught Miss Essie's eye. + +"Child!--how did you get that?"--she exclaimed, springing to her side +and arresting the tongs. Faith's low "I don't know, ma'am"--was +inimitable. It was well neither lady had sight of Mr. Linden's face. + +"It's very beautiful!" said Miss Essie, controlling herself into some +order, and poring over the little hand she had made captive. "I never +saw a greater beauty of a ring--never. Do you know what it means, +Faith?" She dropped her voice and tapped significantly the finger. + +Faith answered like a person put to the question,--"Yes." + +"Do you?" said Miss Essie in the same low aside and half laughing. "I +am so glad. I always thought it. But this is splendid, Faith. _You_ +don't know how handsome it is. It is easy to know where this came from. +I needn't ask." + +"I must ask you both to sit down," said Mr. Linden,--"Faith is not +strong enough for much standing, Miss Essie." + +"I can't sit down--I'm going away," said the lady. "I'll tell Sophy she +may expect you the first day you can go out for so long,"--she went on +renewing her half whisper to Faith. "Does she know of this?"--touching +the diamonds which Miss Essie had not yet let go. + +"No, Miss Essie--" Faith stood in great confusion. Mr. Linden left the +table, and gently disengaging her from Miss Essie placed her in the +great chair, and stood resting one hand on the back of it. + +"Miss Essie," he said, "Faith belongs to me--and therefore if I take +care of her strength in a somewhat summary way, you will forgive me." + +Miss Essie paused and looked at him in most bewildering confusion. He +had spoken and she had heard, very clearly. + +"I don't believe it!"--she said with an attempt at jocularity in which +there mingled somehow, inexplicably, a quality that was not pleasure. +"Faith!--no double-dealing. Two is too much." + +"Or even the suggestion of two," Mr. Linden said. + +"Do you mean," said Miss Essie looking at him with a semi-comical +endeavour to cover up discomfiture and other things--"do you mean to +say that I have made nothing here but an abominable mistake?" + +"I should give it a different adjective." + +Miss Essie made a despairing gesture. "Oh!--I might well say it's no +use talking to people! Will you ever for give me, Mr. Linden, for all +the mischief I have tried to do you? I didn't know _both_ parties were +within hearing of me, you know, sir?--" + +"Miss Essie, I hope you may always be as successful." + +Perhaps Miss Essie wondered, as she glanced at Faith, whether she had +done any "mischief" or no; but she ventured no sort of repartee, being +altogether in an uncomfortable and somewhat awed state of mind. She +made hurried adieus to Mrs. Derrick, more formal and extremely civil +leave-taking of Mr. Linden, parted in a sort of astonished wise with +Faith and the diamonds which evidently bewildered her yet, and made +what was also evidently an escape out of the house. While Mr. Linden +attended the lady to the door, Faith softly and swiftly passed behind +them and made her escape too, up stairs. She was gone before he turned. + +It was perhaps an hour after this, when Cindy entered Faith's room and +gave her a note. "I'm free to confess," said Cindy, "that Mr. Linden +gave it to me, but who writ it I don't know." But Faith did. It ran +thus:-- + + + +"Mademoiselle--With great impatience I have waited for my Sunbeam to +break through the gloomy clouds of doubt which surround me--but I +perceive the 'warning' has taken effect! + +In keeping with this is the state of the outer world, which is even +rainy!--so that my purpose to take said Sunbeam out to drive is for the +present thwarted. + +Conceive of my state of mind! + +In vain I repeat to myself the comforting truth, that my Sunbeam is +shining somewhere, if not on me,--there are circumstances where +philosophical truths lose all their power. + +I remember that the 'warning' contained some notable mistakes,--as for +instance, that I should ever--my pen refuses to write the words!--or I +do. As well might it be said that I should----. Mademoiselle, you must +perceive the obvious bearing of these two upon each other. + +If your interest in the writer has carried you so far, perhaps he may +indulge the hope that at some future time it may carry you +further--even to the head of the stairs--where it is needless to say +you will be received with open arms. + +It is also needless to sign this--it could come from but one person!" + + + +Some two minutes after, Faith's room door opened, and a very flashing +bright sunbeam came out upon the place indicated, only a little +peachblossom tinge in her cheeks witnessing to any consciousness. She +was met according to promise--then held off and looked at with +serio-comic eyes. + +"What a cruel child you are!" Mr. Linden said. + +"What do you want, Endecott?" said Faith trying to be serious. + +"How can you have the heart to sit up stairs and sew while I am down +stairs in my study?" + +Faith instantly came so close, taking the nearest refuge, that he could +not very well see her face; but that she was laughing still he knew. + +"Endecott!--don't talk so. I didn't know where you were." + +"Will it be in this sort of weather that you will 'go out to do +errands' and leave me at home?" + +"Endecott!--If you don't want anything more of me," said Faith lifting +up a face which was an array of peach-blossoms,--"I'll go back again." + +"Will you?--" with a little tightening of his hold, and signification +of his approval of peachblossoms. "Faith, you are a lovely child! Will +it distress you very much if I go off and ride about the country alone?" + +But now,--seeing she could not get away,--she stood graver; and the +answer was very gentle, almost tender--"No." + +"Then you will not confess that you were frightened out of your wits at +the picture?" said Mr. Linden smiling, though with an answering change +of tone. + +"Did you think I was?" + +"No--you are too much of a woman for that, even if you had believed it +true." + +"Then _you_ were not frightened?--" she said with some comicality. + +"I? desperately!--my note did not give you any idea of the state of my +mind! Imagine me sitting down stairs and saying to myself--(words +naturally suggested by the state of the weather)-- + + 'O how this spring of love resembleth + Th' uncertain glories of an April day, + Which now shews all the beauties of the sun, + And by and by a cloud takes all away!'" + + +One of the soft flashes of Faith's eye came first to answer him; and +then she remarked very coolly, (N.B. her face was not so,) "I think it +will clear at noon, Endecott." + +"Do you?" he said looking towards the window with a counterfeit +surprise that was in comical antithesis to his last words,--"does it +rain still!" + +Faith's eye came back quick from the window to him, and then, for the +first time in many a long day, her old mellow sweet laugh rolled over +the subject, dismissing make-believes and figures of speech in its +clear matter-of-fact rejoicing. + +"My dear little Mignonette!" Mr. Linden said, "that does my very heart +good. You are really getting better, in spite of lessons and warnings, +and all other hindrances. Do you want to know what I have truly been +thinking of since you came up stairs? Shall we exchange thoughts?" + +"Please give me yours," she answered. + +"They sprang from Miss Essie's question. Faith, when she asked me what +my wife would have, I could not tell her--I could not answer it to +myself afterwards very definitely. Only so far--she will have all I +have to give." His hand was smoothing and arranging her hair as he +spoke--his look one that nobody but Faith ever had from Mr. Linden. She +had looked up once and seen it; and then she stood before him, so still +and silent as if she might have had nothing to say; but every line of +her brow, her moved lip, her attitude, the very power of her silence, +contradicted that, and testified as well to the grace of a grave and +most exquisite humility which clothed her from head to foot. Mr. Linden +was as silent as she, watching her; but then he drew her off to the low +couch in the wide old-fashioned entry window, and seated her there in a +very bath of spring air and struggling sunbeams. + +"I suppose it is useless to say 'Please give me yours'," he said +smiling. "Mignonette, we have had no reading to-day--do you like this +time and place?--and shall it be with you or to you?" + +"It will be both, won't it?" said Faith; and she went for her Bible. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + + +The day was struggling into clearness by the time dinner was over. +Patches of blue sky looked down through grey, vapoury, scattering +clouds; while now and then a few rain drops fell to keep up the +character of the morning, and broad warm genial sunbeams fell between +them. It was not fair yet for a drive; and Mr. Linden went out on some +errands of business, leaving Faith with a charge to sleep and rest and +be ready against his return. + +He was but a little while gone when Jem Waters made his appearance and +asked for Faith. Mr. Simlins had been ill--that Faith knew--but Jem +brought a sad report of how ill he had been, and a message that he was +"tired of not seeing Faith and wished she would let Jem fetch her down. +She might go back again as soon as she'd a mind to." He wanted to see +her "real bad," according to Jem; for he had ordered the best wagon on +the premises to be cleaned and harnessed up, and the best buffalo robe +put in, and charged Jem to bring Miss Faith "if she could anyways +come." And there was Jem and the wagon. + +Faith demurred; she had not had her sleep and didn't know, or rather +did know, how the proceeding would be looked upon; but she also fancied +more meaning in the summons than Jem had been commissioned to make +known. And perhaps another little wee feminine thought came in to help +her decision. + +"Mother," she said, "I shall go. You need not say anything about it +unless you are asked. It isn't far to Mr. Simlins--I shall be home in +time for my ride." So, quickly ready, Jem drove her down. + +Mr. Simlins she found sitting up, in a nondescript invalid's attire of +an old cloak and a summer waistcoat; and warm as the day was, with a +little fire burning, which was not unnecessary to correct the damp of +the unused sitting-room. He was, as he said, "fallen away considerable, +and with no more strength than a spring chicken," but for the rest +looked as usual. And so spoke. + +"Well,--why haint you been to see me before?" + +"I have been sick, sir." + +"Sick?" said he, his voice softening unconsciously towards her sweet +tones. "Sit there and let me see.--I believe you have. But you aint fur +from well now!" He had some reason, for the face he had turned to the +sunlight bore all the quiet lines of happiness, and its somewhat faint +colour was replaced under his scrutiny by a conscious deep rose. + +"Don't you know," said he settling himself back in his chair,--"I don't +think I see the sun and moon when I don't see you? Or the moon, +anyways--you aint but the half of my Zodiack." + +"What did you want to see the moon for, Mr. Simlins?" said Faith +willing to interrupt him. + +"Well--you see, I've been a kind of a latudinarian too," said Mr. +Simlins doubtfully.--"It pulls a man's mind down; as well as his +flesh--and I got tired of thinkin' to-day and concluded I'd send for +you to stop it." His look confessed more than his words. Faith had +little need to ask what he had been thinking about. + +"What shall I do to stop it, sir?" + +"Well, you can read--can't you?--or talk to me." + +There was a strange uneasy wandering of his eye, and a corresponding +unwonted simplicity and directness in his talk. Faith noted both and +silently went for a Bible she saw lying on a table. She brought it to +Mr. Simlins' side and opened its pages slowly, questioning with herself +where she should read. Some association of a long past conversation +perhaps was present with her, for though she paused over one and +another of several passages, she could fix upon none but the parable of +the unfruitful tree. + +"Do you mean that for me?" said the farmer a minute after she had done. + +"Yes sir--and no, dear Mr. Simlins!" said Faith looking up. + +"Why is it 'yes' and 'no'? how be I like that?"--he growled, but with a +certain softening and lowering of his growl. + +"The good trees all do the work they were made for. God calls for the +same from us," Faith said gently. + +"I know what you're thinkin' of," said he;--"but haint I done it? Who +ever heerd a man say I had wronged him? or that I have been +hard-hearted either? I never was." + +It was curious how he let his thoughts out to her; but the very gentle, +pure and true face beside him provoked neither controversy nor +mistrust, nor pride. He spoke to her as if she had only been a child. +Like a child, with such sympathy and simplicity, she answered him. + +"Mr. Simlins, the Bible says that 'the fruits of righteousness are by +Jesus Christ.'--Do you know him?--are you in his service?" + +"I don't know as I understand you," said he. + +"I can't make you understand it, sir." + +"Why can't you? who can?" said he quickly. + +"It is written, Mr. Simlins,--'They shall be all taught of God.'"--She +shewed him the place. "And it is written, 'Come, and let us go up to +the mountain of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob; and _he +will teach us_ of his ways, and we will walk in his paths.'--That is +it. If you are willing to walk in his paths, he will shew them to you." +Faith looked eagerly at the farmer, and he looked at her. Neither heart +was hid from the other. + +"But supposin' I was willin'--which I be, so fur's I know--I don't know +what they be no more'n a child. How am I goin' to find 'em out?" + +Faith's eyes filled quick as she turned over the leaves again;--was it +by sympathy alone that occasion came for the rough hand to pass once or +twice hastily across those that were looking at her? Without speaking, +Faith shewed him the words,--"If any man will do his will, he shall +know of the doctrine." + +"That is the question, dear Mr. Simlins. On that 'if' it all hangs." +The farmer took the book into his own hands and sat looking steadily at +the words. + +"Well," said he putting it back on her lap--"supposin' the 'if' 's all +right--Go ahead, Faith." + +"Then the way is clear for you to do that; and it's all easy. But the +first thing is here--the invitation of Jesus himself." + +"'Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give +you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me; for I am meek and +lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is +easy, and my burden is light.'" + +"You see," she went on very gently,--"he bids you _learn of him_--so he +is ready to teach you. If you are only willing to take his yoke upon +you,--to be his servant and own it,--he will shew you what to do, step +by step, and help you in every one." + +"I don't see where's the beginning of the way yet," said the farmer. + +"_That_," said Faith. "Be the servant of Jesus Christ and own it; and +then go to him for all you want. He is good for all." + +There was a pause. + +"I s'pose you've been goin' on in that way a good while." + +"A good while--yes,"--Faith almost whispered. + +"Well, when you are goin' to him sometimes, ask somethin' for me,--will +you?" + +He had bent over, leaning on his knees, to speak it in a lower growl +than ordinary. Faith bowed her head at first, unwilling to speak; but +tears somehow started, and the drops followed each other, as she sat +gazing into the black fireplace,--she could not help it--till a perfect +shower of weeping brought her face into her hands and stirred her not +very strong frame. It stirred the farmer, robust as he was in spite of +illness; he shifted his chair most uneasily, and finally laid down his +head on his folded arms on the table. Faith was the first to speak. + +"Mr. Simlins, who takes care of you?" + +"Ugh!" (a most unintelligible grunt,) "they all do it by turns--Jenny +and all of 'em." + +"What have you had for dinner to-day?" + +"Didn't want anything!" He sat up and brushed his cloak sleeve across +his forehead. + +"Mr. Simlins, I shall send you down something from home and you must +eat it." + +"The doctor said I was to take wine--but I haint thought of it to-day." + +"Where is it?" + +He nodded his head in the direction of the cupboard. Faith went +rummaging, poured him out a glass and brought it. + +"You see," said he after he had taken it--"I've been pretty well pulled +down--I didn't know--one time--which side of the fence I was goin' +over--and I didn't see the ground on the other side. I don't know why I +should be ashamed to say I was afeard!"--There was a strong, stern, +truth-telling about this speech that thrilled his hearer. She sat down +again. + +"You had best take some yourself," he said. "Do Faith!" + +"No sir--I'm going. I must go," she answered rising to make ready. + +It was strange how the door could have opened and she not heard +it--neither she nor Mr. Simlins in fact,--perhaps because their minds +were so far away. That the incoming steps were unheard was not so +strange, nor new, but the first thing of which Faith was conscious was +the soft touch of a hand on either side of her face--she was a +prisoner. Faith's instant spring to one side brought her face to face +with everybody. Mr. Simlins looked from one to the other, and his first +remark was characteristically addressed to Faith. + +"Why you didn't tell me that!" + +"Has she told you everything _but_ that?" said Mr. Linden smiling, and +giving the farmer's hand good token of his presence. + +"Where under the sun did you come from?" said the farmer returning his +grasp with interest, and looking at Mr. Linden as if indeed one of the +lights of the solar system had been out before his arrival. Faith sat +down mutely and as quietly as possible behind Mr. Linden. + +"From under the sun very literally just now--before that from under a +shower. I have been down to Quapaw, then home to Mrs. Derrick's, then +here. Mr. Simlins, I am sorry to see that you are nursing yourself +instead of me. What is the matter?" + +"I'd as lieves be doin' this, of the two," said the farmer with a stray +smile. "There aint much the matter. How long have you been in this +meridian?" + +"Two days." And stepping from before Faith, Mr. Linden asked her "if +she had come there in a dream?" + +"Do you ever see such good-lookin' things in your dreams?" said the +farmer. "My visual pictures are all broken down fences, or Jem or Jenny +doin' somethin' they haint ought to do. How long're you goin' to stay +in Pattaquasset, Dominie?" + +"Some time, I hope. Not quite so long as the first time, but longer +than I have been since that. Do you know, Mr. Simlins, your coat collar +is a little bit turned in?--and why don't you give the sunshine a +better welcome?--you two sick people together want some one to make a +stir for you." Which office Mr. Linden took upon himself--lightly +disengaging the collar, and then going to the window to draw up the +shade and throw back the shutters, stopping on his way back to +straighten the table cover, and followed by a full gush of sunlight +from the window. + +"It is so glorious this afternoon!" he said. And standing silent a +moment in that brilliant band of light-looking out at the world all +glittering and sparkling in the sun, Mr. Linden repeated,--"'Unto you +that fear my name, shall the Sun of Righteousness arise, with healing +in his wings.'--What a promise that is!" + +"Where did you get those words?"--said Mr. Simlins, after the sunlight +and the silence had given them their full effect. + +"From the Bible--God's book of promises. Do you want to see the place?" + +Mr. Simlins turned down a corner of the leaf and laid the book, still +open, on the table. Then looked at Mr. Linden with a mixture of +pleasure and humour in his eyes. "Are you any nearer bein' a minister +than you was a year ago?" + +"Nearer in one way. But I cannot lay claim to the title you gave me for +another year yet, Mr. Simlins." + +"You're Say and Seal as much as ever. What more fixin' have you got to +do?" + +"A little finishing," said Mr. Linden with a smile. + +And he got up and went for Faith's shawl and gloves which were on the +table. Mr. Simlins watched the shawling and gloving with attention. + +"You can tell Jem he won't be wanted again, Faith," he said. "I guess +you'll see him at the gate." Mr. Linden smiled, but some other thought +was on his mind,--the face that he turned to Mr. Simlins shewed concern +that was both grave and kind. + +"What can I do for you?" he said. + +"This aint the prettiest place in Pattaquasset; but maybe you'll come +and see me sometimes--till I can get out my self," Mr. Simlins said +considerately. + +"You may be sure I will. And will you let me pray with you now, before +I go?" + +The farmer hesitated--or was silent--one instant, then with a sort of +subdued abruptness said, + +"I'm ready!"-- + +They knelt there in the sunlight; but when the prayer was over Mr. +Simlins felt half puzzled to know for whose sake it had been proposed. +For with the telling of his doubts and hindrances and wants--things +which he had told to no one, there mingled so much of the speaker's own +interest,--which could not be content to leave him but in Christ's +hands. + +There was not a word spoken after that for a minute,--Mr. Linden stood +by the low mantelpiece resting his face on his hand. The farmer, busy +with the feelings which the prayer had raised, sat with downcast eyes. +And Faith was motionless with a deep and manifold sense of happiness, +the labyrinth of which herself could not soon have threaded out. The +silence and stillness of his two companions drew the farmer's eyes up; +he read first, with an eager eye that nobody saw, the sweet gravity on +one half hidden face, and the deep pure joy written in all the lines of +the other; and secret and strong, though half unknown to himself, the +whole tide of his heart turned that way. If not before, then at least, +something like Ruth's resolution came up within him;--"thy people shall +be my people, and thy God my God!" Mr. Linden was the first one that +moved. + +"Are you ready, dear child?" + +The farmer's eyes were on her too, even while he wrung Mr. Linden's +hand. But he only said before he let it go,--"Give a glass of wine to +her when she gets home." + +Out in the sweet afternoon air, and driving through the gate which +opened on the highway, with Jem Waters on hand to shut it, Mr. Linden +brought Faith's face round towards him and scanned it earnestly. + +"My child, how tired you are! I wish I knew whether it would do you +most good to go straight home, or to breathe this air a little longer." + +"I hope you won't conclude to take me home," said Faith. "I have been +looking for this all day." + +"Do you think you deserve to have it?" said Mr. Linden, turning Jerry's +head however the way that was _not_ straight home. "Why didn't you +sleep, and wait for me to bring you down here?" + +"One reason was, Endy, that I half guessed Mr. Simlins wanted to talk +to me and that it might be better for him to see one than two. + +"I could have left you there for a while." + +"No you couldn't!" she said. "And I couldn't have driven off Jerry and +left you--though that would have been better." + +"You could have driven me off. What was the other reason?" + +"The other reason isn't really worth your hearing. Don't you think this +afternoon is too pretty to spoil with bad reasons?"--she said with +gentle eyes, half fun, half confession. + +"Entirely. Faith--I think you would bear the ride better if you had a +sort of afternoon lunch,--shall we stop at Miss Bezac's for a glass of +milk?" + +"Oh no!"--she said hastily. "Oh no, Endecott! I don't want anything but +to ride." + +"And to hide--" said Mr. Linden laughingly. "Another bad reason, Faith?" + +She gave him a little blushing look, very frank and happy, that also +bore homage to his penetration. + +"Stop anywhere you please, Endy," she said honestly. "I was very glad +you came to Mr. Simlins'." + +"Would you rather get it from Mrs. Davids?" he inquired demurely. + +"No, not rather. Whichever you like, Endecott," Faith said, hiding the +start which the question in this real form gave her. The afternoon sun +through which they were riding was very bright; the washed leaves were +brilliantly green; sweet scents of trees and buds filled the air, and +opening apple blossoms were scattering beauty all over the land. +Nothing could spoil that afternoon. Faith had a secret consciousness +besides that the very thing from which she shrank was by no means +disagreeable to Mr. Linden. She did not care what he did! And he,--in +the joy of being with her, of seeing her grow stronger every hour, Mr. +Linden was in a 'holiday humour'--in the mood for work or play or +mischief; and took the road to Miss Bezac's for more than a glass of +milk. + +"Mignonette," he said, "what varieties of pride do you consider lawful +and becoming?" + +"I know only a few innocent sorts," said Faith,--"that I keep for +myself." + +"Luxurious child! 'A few innocent sorts of pride that you keep for +yourself'! You must divide with me." + +How Faith laughed. + +"You wouldn't thank me for one of them all, Endecott. And yet--" She +stopped, and coloured brilliantly on the sudden. + +"Explain and finish," said Mr. Linden laconically. + +"If I told you what they are you would laugh at me." + +"That would not hurt me. What are they, Mignonette?" + +She spoke gravely, though smiling sometimes; answering to the matter of +fact, as she had been asked. "I am proud, a little, of very fine rolls +of butter, or a particularly good cheese. I think I am proud of my +carnations, and perhaps--" she went on colouring--"of being so good a +baker as I am. And perhaps--I think I am--of such things as sewing and +dressmaking;--but I don't think there is much harm in all that. I know +myself sometimes proud of other things, where I know it is wrong." + +"How do you know but I am proud of your rolls of butter too?" said Mr. +Linden looking amused. "But Mignonette, what called forth such a +display of the carnations you are _not_ proud of? What was the force of +that 'And yet'?" + +It brought the colour again, and Faith hesitated and looked puzzled, +Then she tried a new way of escape. + +"Don't you mean to let me have any of my thoughts to myself?" she said +playfully. + +"Don't you mean to let me have any of them for myself?" + +"You?--Haven't you them almost all?" + +"My dear I beg pardon!--one for every carnation,--but I did not know +that I had so nearly made the tour of your mind. I was under the +impression that my passports were not yet made out--and that my +knowledge of your thoughts was all gained from certain predatory +excursions, telescopic observations, and such like illegal practices. I +am sure all my attempts to cross the frontier in the ordinary way are +met by something more impassable than a file of bayonets." + +Faith looked up at him as if to see how much of this was meant for true. + +"But," said she naively, "I feel as if I had been under a microscope." + +"My dear!" said Mr. Linden again, with an air at once resigned and +deprecating. But then his gravity gave way. "Faith!--is _that_ your +feeling in my company? I wonder you can endure the sight of me." + +"Why?"--said she timidly. + +"If I seem to you like a microscope." + +"Only your eyes, like those power-glasses.--Not for size!" said Faith, +laughing now herself. + +"Ah little Mignonette," he said smiling, "some things can be seen +without microscopic vision. And do not you know, my child, that +carnations must draw attention to the particular point round which they +bloom?" + +"Endy, you shall know what I was thinking of," she said. "You touched +it already. It was only--that perhaps sometime you _would_ be a little +proud even of those little things in me--because--Now you can punish me +for being proud in earnest!"--It was said in great confusion; it had +cost Faith a struggle; the white and red both strove in her downcast +face. Mr. Linden might not fathom what was not in a man's nature; but +Faith had hardly ever perhaps given him such a token of the value she +set upon his pleasure. + +"Punish you?" he said, leaving Jerry to find the road for himself for a +minute,--"how shall I do it?--so? And how much punishment do you +require? I think a little is not enough. 'Because' what, love?" + +"Endy!--" she said under her breath,--"you know!--don't ask me." + +"Then--if I exceed your limits--you will not blame me?" + +"Limits of what?" + +"Limits of this species of executive justice." + +"I don't think you would keep limits of anybody else's setting," said +Faith with a little subdued fun. "Look, Endy!--we are coming to Miss +Bezac's." + +"Most true," said Mr. Linden,--"now shall you see (perhaps!) one of the +innocent sorts of pride that I keep for myself. What have we come for?" +he added laughing, as Jerry trotted up the side hill to the +cottage,--"is it butter, or carnations, or dressmaking?--they all make +a rare combination in my mind at present." + +"She is at home!" said Faith,--"if she wasn't, the window-curtains +would be down. Now she is going to be pleased,--and so am I, for she +will give me something to eat." Faith looked as if she wanted it, as +she softly opened the door of the dressmaker's little parlour, or +workroom, and softly went in. The various business and talk of the +afternoon had exhausted her. + +Miss Bezac, having in her young days been not only rich, but also a +firstrate needlewoman, now that she was older and poor plied her needle +for a different purpose. Yet something of old habits clung to her +still; she would not take the common work of the village; but when Mrs. +Stoutenburgh wanted a gay silk dress, or Miss De Staff a delicate +muslin, or Mrs. Somers an embroidered merino--then Miss Bezac was sure +to have them go through her hands; and for these ladies she took the +fashions and dispensed them exceeding well. Strangers too, in +Pattaquasset for the summer, often came to her,--and had not Miss Bezac +made the very first embroidered waistcoat that ever Squire Deacon wore, +or Sam Stoutenburgh admired himself in? So her table was generally +covered with pretty work, and on this particular afternoon she was +choosing the patterns for a second waistcoat for the young member from +Quilipeak, a mantilla for his mother, and a silk apron for Miss Essie, +all at once. In deep cogitation Faith found her, and Faith's soft +salutation,-- + +"Dear Miss Bezac, will you let strangers come in?" How gloriously Faith +blushed. + +"Strangers!" cried Miss Bezac, turning round. "Why Faith!--you don't +mean to say it's you?--though I don't suppose you mean to say it's +anybody else. Unless--I declare I don't know whether it is you or not!" +said Miss Bezac, looking from her to Mr. Linden and shaking hands with +both at once. "Though if it isn't I ought to have heard--only folks +don't always do what they ought--at least I don't,--nor much of +anything." + +"It is nobody else yet," said Mr. Linden smiling. Whereat Miss Bezac +laid one hand on the other, and stepping back a little surveyed the two +"as a whole." + +"Do you know," she said, "(you wouldn't think it) but sometimes I can't +say a word!" + +"You must not expect Faith to say much--she is tired," said Mr. Linden +putting her in a chair. "Miss Bezac, I brought her here to get +something to eat." + +"Well I don't believe--I don't really believe that anybody but you +would ever do such a kind thing," said Miss Bezac. "What shall I get? +Faith--what will you have? And you're well enough to be out again!--and +it's so well I'm not out myself!--I'll run and see if the fire +ain't,--the kettle ought to be boiled, for I wanted an early cup of +tea." + +"No, dear Miss Bezac, don't!" said Faith. "Only give me some bread and +milk." + +Miss Bezac stopped short. + +"Bread and milk?" she said--"is that good for you? The bread's good, I +know, baked last night; and the milk always is sweet, up here with the +cowslips--and most things are sweet when you're hungry. But ain't you +more hungry than that?--and somebody else might be, if you ain't--and +one always must think of somebody else too. But you do, I'll say that +for you. And oh didn't I say long ago!--" A funny little recollective +pause Miss Bezac made, her thoughts going back even to the night of the +celebration. Then she ran away for the bread and milk,--then she came +back and put her head in at the door. + +"Faith, do you like a cup or a bowl?--I like a cup, because I always +think of a cup of comfort--and I never heard of a bowl of anything. But +you can have which you like." + +"I like the cup too," said Faith laughing. "But even the bowl would be +comfort to-day, Miss Bezac." + +The cup came, and a little pitcher for replenishing, and a blue plate +of very white bread and very brown bread, and one of Miss Bezac's +old-fashioned silver spoons, and a little loaf of "one, two, three, +four, cake", that looked as good as the bread. All of which were +arranged on a round stand before Faith by Miss Bezac and Mr. Linden +jointly. He brought her a footstool too, and with persuasive fingers +untied and took off her bonnet--which supplementary arrangements Miss +Bezac surveyed with folded hands and great admiration. Which also made +the pale cheeks flush again, but that was pretty to look upon. Faith +betook herself to the old-fashioned spoon and the milk, then gave Mr. +Linden something to do in the shape of a piece of cake; and then +resigning herself to circumstances broke brown bread into the milk and +eat it with great and profitable satisfaction, leaving the conversation +in the hands of the other two. The sun sank lower and lower, sending +farewell beams into the valleys, and shaking out gold pieces in Miss +Bezac's little brown sitting-room like the Will-o'-wisps in the "Tale +of tales". Through the open door her red cow might be seen returning +home by a winding and circuitous path, such as cows love, and a little +sparrow hopped in and out, from the doorstep, looking for "One, two, +three, four", crumbs. Faith from her seat near the fire could see it +all--if her eyes chose to pass Mr. Linden,--what he saw, she found out +whenever they went that way. It was not wonderful that Faith turned +from the table at last with a very refreshed face. + +"Miss Bezac, you have made me up," she said smiling. + +"Have I?" said her little hostess,--"well that comes pretty near it. Do +you know when I saw you--I mean when I saw _both_ of you, I really +thought you had come for me to make up something else? And I must say, +I wish you had,--not that I haven't dresses enough, and too +many--unless I had a new pair of eyes--but I always did set my heart on +making that one. And I haven't set my heart upon many things for a good +while, so of course I ain't used to being disappointed. You won't +begin, will you, Faith?" + +Faith kissed her, hastily expressing the unsentimental hope that her +tea would be as good as her bread and milk; and ran out, leaving Mr. +Linden to follow at his leisure. Faith was found untying Jerry. + +"What do you mean?" said Mr. Linden staying her hands and lifting her +in the most summary manner into the wagon. "Bread and milk is too +stimulating for you, child,--we must find something less exciting. What +will you see fit to do next?" + +"I can untie a bridle," said Faith. + +"Or slip your head through one. But you should have seen the delight +with which Miss Bezac entered upon the year of patience that I +prescribed to her!--and the very (innocuous) pride that lay hid in the +prescription. Do you feel disposed to punish me for that, Mignonette?" + +One of Faith's grave childish looks answered him; but then, dismissing +Mr. Linden as impracticable, she gave herself to the enjoyment of the +time. It was a fit afternoon! The sunbeams were bright on leaves and +flowers, with that fairy brightness which belongs peculiarly to spring. +The air was a real spring air, sweet and bracing, full of delicate +spices of May. The apple blossoms, out and bursting out, dressed the +land with the very bloom of joy. And through it all Mr. Linden drove +her, himself in a "holiday humour." Bread and milk may be stimulating, +but health and happiness are more stimulating yet; and Faith came home +after a ride of some length looking not a bit the worse, and ready for +supper. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + + +A month passed away,--with apple blossoms, strawberry flowers, now with +strawberries themselves. Roses coming into splendour, carnations in +full force, and both re-established in the cheeks of Faith Derrick. +What a month it had been!--of weather, of work, of society. Lessons +after the old fashion, reading aloud, talking; going round the country +at Jerry's heels, or on the back of Mrs. Stoutenburgh's pony--for there +she was put, just so soon as she could bear it, passing by degrees from +a gentle trot on level ground to a ladylike scamper over the hills. +Faith had not been so strong for many a day as the longest day of that +summer found her. + +Coming home from their afternoon ride by the way of the postoffice, Mr. +Linden found there a letter from Europe; the seal of which he broke as +they entered, the house, just in time to give Faith a little enclosed +note to herself as she went up stairs to change her dress. Its words +were few. Referring Faith to Mr. Linden for particulars, it asked her +to let him come to Germany without delay. The aunt with whom Miss +Linden lived was at the point of death, apparently--she herself in +danger of being left quite alone in a strange land. Yet with all the +urgency of the case, the whole breathing of Miss Linden's note was, +"Faith--can you spare him?--will you let him come?" + +The question was settled before it was asked, in Faith's mind; but what +a laying down of pleasure and what a taking up of pain was there! The +rest of the vacation was gone at once; for Mr. Linden could not go to +Europe and come back, even on the wings of steam, and have a day left +before study would begin again. No more of him--except, at the best, +snatches--till next year; and next year was very far off, and who could +tell what might be next year? But at the best, she must see little more +of him until then; and in the mean time he must put half the world +between them. Nobody saw how fast the roses faded on Faith's cheek; she +sat and looked at the matter all alone, and looked it through. For one +few minutes; and then she rose up and began dressing slowly, looking at +it still, but gathering all her forces together to deal with it. And +when her dressing was done, she still stood leaning one hand and her +head on the dressing table, thinking over all that was to do. She had +remembered, as with a flash of remembrance, what day the next steamer +would sail--from what port--she knew the hour when Mr. Linden must +leave Pattaquasset. And when her mind had seen all the preparations to +be made, and she thought she was strong enough, she turned to go down +stairs; but then feeling very weak Faith turned again and kneeled down +to pray. And in a mixed feeling of strength and weakness, she went down +stairs. + +First to the kitchen, where she quietly looked after the state of the +clothes in the wash, and desired Cindy to have all Mr. Linden's things +ready for ironing that evening. Then attended to the supply of bread +and the provision for breakfast; saw that one or two things about the +supper were in proper order and progress; asked Mrs. Derrick to make +the tea when it was time, and finally, as quietly as if the afternoon's +ride had been the only event of the afternoon, opened the door of the +sitting-room and softly went in. + +For a while after reading his own letter Mr. Linden had sat absolutely +still,--then with a sort of impatience to see Faith, to give her what +comfort he could, at least to have her with him every minute, he had +paced up and down the sitting-room till she appeared. Now he took her +in his arms with all sorts of tender caresses--with no words at first +but, "My little Mignonette!" Faith herself was quite still and +wordless; only once, and that suddenly and earnestly, she gave his +cheek the salutation she had never given him before unbidden. From her +it was a whole volume, and thoroughly peace-speaking, although it might +intimate a little difficulty of words. + +Keeping one arm round her, Mr. Linden began again his walk up and down +the room; beginning to talk as well--telling her what was in his +letter, how long the journey would take, and more than all, what she +must do while he was away. How long the absence would be--when he +should be at home again, that was little touched upon by either; the +return might be very speedy--that seemed most probable, but neither he +nor Faith cared to put in words all the uncertainties that hung about +it. From every point he came back to her,--with injunctions about her +strength, and directions about her studies, and charges to take care of +herself _for him_--with other words of comfort and cheering, spoken +cheerfully from a very sorrowful heart. One other charge he gave-- + +"My little Sunbeam, my dearest Faith, keep both your names unclouded!" + +"I have had one lesson, Endy"-- + +She was a little pale, but had listened to him quietly as intently; +voice and smile both ready to do their part, albeit gravely, whenever +there was a part for them. + +"I shall not forget--" she added now with a smile, a rare one, after a +little pause. + +He brought her back to the sofa then, kissing the pale cheeks as if he +missed their carnations. Yet--with the stringency of the old law which +saith that "Doublet and hose must shew itself courageous to +petticoat"--Mr. Linden gave her bright words, although they were words +of a very grave brightness--not contradicted, but qualified by his eyes. + +"Mignonette," he said, "I did not think next year could gain brightness +from anything--but I cannot tell you how it has looked to me within +these last two hours. If I could but call in Mr. Somers, and then take +you with me!" + +It brought a rush of the carnations; but Faith did not think so +extravagant a wish required any combating. Neither did she say what +_she_ thought of "next year." + +That evening at least they had quietly together. What Faith did after +they had separated for the night, Mr. Linden never knew; but the +morning saw everything ready for his departure,--ready down to the +little details which a man recognizes only (for the most part) by the +sense of want. And if cheeks were paler than last night, they were only +now and then less steady--till he was gone. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + + +Dr. Harrison took passage in the steamship Vulcan, C. W. Cyclops, +commander, for the Old World; having come to the conclusion that the +southern country was not sufficiently remote, and that only a change of +hemispheres would suit the precise state of his mind. Letters of +combined farewell and notice-giving, reached Pattaquasset too late to +cumber the doctor with a bevy of friends to see him off; but his sudden +motions were too well known, and his peculiarities too long +established, to excite much surprise or dismay by any new +manifestations. + +The Vulcan lay getting her steam up in that fair June morning, with +very little regard to the amount of high pressure that her passengers +might bring on board. Nothing could be more regardless of their hurry +and bustle, the causes that brought them, the tears they shed, the +friends they left behind, than the ship with her black sides and red +smoke pipe. Tears did indeed trickle down some parts of her machinery, +but they were only condensed steam--which might indeed be true of some +of the tears of her passengers. + +Punctual to her time she left her moorings, steaming down the beautiful +bay with all the June light upon her, throwing back little foamy waves +that glittered in the sun, making her farewell with a long train of +blue rollers that came one after another to kiss the shore. What if +tears sprinkled the dusty sidewalks of Canal St.?--what if that same +light shone on white handkerchiefs and bowed heads?--The answering +drops might fall in the state-rooms of the Vulcan, but on deck bustle +and excitement had their way. + +So went on the miles and the hours,--then the pilot left the vessel, +taking with him a little handful of letters; and the passengers who had +been down stairs to write were on deck, watching him off. In the city +business rolled on with its closing tide,--far down on the Long Branch +shore people looked northward towards a dim outline, a little waft of +smoke, and said--"There goes the Vulcan." The freshening breeze, the +long rolls of the Atlantic, sent some passengers below, even +now,--others stood gazing back at the faint city indications,--others +still walked up and down--those who had left little, or cared little +for what they had left. Of these was Dr. Harrison, who paced the deck +with very easy external manifestations. + +Some change of mind--some freak of fancy, sent him at last to the other +side of the ship--then to the prow. Here sailors were busy,--here one +passenger stood alone: but if there had been twenty more, Dr. Harrison +could have seen but this one. He was standing with arms folded, in a +sort of immoveable position, that yet accommodated itself easily to the +ship's slow courtseying; as regardless of that as of the soft play of +the sea breeze; looking back--but not to the place where the Vulcan had +lain a few hours before. He was rather looking forward,--looking off to +some spot that lay north or northeast of them: some spot invisible, yet +how clearly seen! Looking thither,--as if in all the horizon that alone +had any interest. So absorbed--so far from the ship,--his lips set in +such grave, sad lines; his eyes so intent, as if they could by no means +look at anything else. Nay, for the time, there was nothing else to +see! Dr. Harrison might come or go--the sailors might do their +utmost,--far over the rolling water, conscious of that only because it +was a barrier of separation, the watcher's eyes rested on Mignonette. +If once or twice the eyelids fell, it was not that the vision failed. + +Dr. Harrison stopped short, unseen, and not wishing at that moment to +meet the consequences of being seen. Yet he stood still and looked. The +first feeling being one of intense displeasure and disgust that the +Vulcan carried so unwelcome a fellow-passenger; the second, of +unbounded astonishment and wonder what he did there. _He_ putting the +ocean between him and Pattaquasset? _he_ setting out for the Old World, +with all his hopes just blossoming in the New? What could be the +explanation? Was it possible, Dr. Harrison asked himself for one +moment, that he could have been mistaken? that he could have +misunderstood the issue of the conversation that morning in Faith's +sick room? A moment resolved him. He recalled the steady, dauntless +look of Faith's eyes after his words,--a look which he had two or three +times been privileged to receive from her and never cared to meet;--he +remembered how daintily her colour rose as her eyes fell, and the slow +deliberate uncovering of her diamond finger from which the eyes were +not raised again to look at him; he remembered it with the embittered +pang of the moment. No! he had not been mistaken; he had read her +right. Could it be--it crossed the doctor's mind like a flash of the +intensest lightning--that _his letter_ had done its work? its work of +separation? But the cool reminder of reason came like the darkness +after the lightning. Mr. Linden would not have been at Mrs. Derrick's, +as the doctor had heard of his being there, if any entering wedge of +division had made itself felt between his place there and him. No, +though now he was here in the Vulcan. And Dr. Harrison noticed anew, +keenly, that the expression of the gazer's face, though sorrowful and +grave, was in nowise dark or desponding. Nothing of that! The grave +brow was unbent in every line of it; the grave lips had no hard set of +pain; the doctor read them well, both lips and brow! Mr. Linden was no +man to stand and look towards Pattaquasset if he had nothing there. And +with a twinge he now recollected the unwonted sound of that name from +the pilot's mouth as he took charge of the letters and went off. Ay! +and turning with the thought the doctor paced back again, as +unregardful now of the contents of the Vulcan, animate or inanimate, as +the man himself whom he had been watching. + +What should he do? he must meet him and speak to him, though the doctor +desired nothing less in the whole broad earth. But he must do it, for +the maintenance of his own character and the safety of his own secret +and pride that hung thereby. That little piece of simplicity up there +in the country had managed to say him no without being directly asked +to say anything--thanks to her truthful honesty; and perhaps, a twinge +or two of another sort came to Dr. Harrison's mind as he thought of his +relations with her,--yes, and of his relations with _him_. Not +pleasant, but all the more, if possible, Dr. Harrison set his teeth and +resolved to speak to Mr. Linden the first opportunity. All the more, +that he was not certain Mr. Linden had received his letter,--it was +likely, yet Dr. Harrison had had no note of the fact. It might have +failed. And not withstanding all the conclusions to which his +meditations had come, curiosity lingered yet;--a morbid curiosity, +unreasonable, as he said to himself, yet uncontrollable, to see by eye +and ear witness, even in actual speech and conversation, whether all +was well with Mr. Linden or not. His own power of self-possession Dr. +Harrison could trust; he would try that of the other. Yet he took +tolerably good care that the opportunity of speaking should not be this +evening. The doctor did not come in to supper till all the passengers +were seated, or nearly so, and then carried himself to the end of the +apartment furthest from his friend; where he so bore his part that no +mortal could have supposed Dr. Harrison had suffered lately in mind, +body, or estate. + +Mr. Linden's part that night was a quiet one, the voluntary part of it, +and strictly confined to the various little tea-table courtesies which +with him might indeed be called involuntary. But it so happened that +the Vulcan carried out quite a knot of his former friends--gentlemen +who knew him well, and these from their various places at the table +spoke either to him or of him frequently. Dr. Harrison in the pauses of +his own talk could hear, "Linden"--"Endecott Linden"--"John, what have +you been doing with yourself?"--in different tones of question or +comment,--sometimes caught the tones of Mr. Linden's voice in reply; +but as they were both on the same side of the table eyesight was not +called for. The doctor sat in his place until the table was nearly +cleared; then sauntered forth into the evening light. Fair, bright, +glowing light, upon gay water and a gay deck-full; but Dr. Harrison +gaining nothing from its brightness, stood looking out on its +reflection in the waves more gloomily than he had seen another look a +little time ago. Then a hand was laid lightly on his shoulder, making +its claim of acquaintanceship with a very kind, friendly touch. The +doctor turned and met hand and eye with as far as could be seen his old +manner, only perhaps his fingers released themselves a little sooner +than once they would, and the smile was a trifle more broad than it +might if there had been no constraint about it. + +"I am not altogether taken now by surprise," said he, "though surprise +hasn't yet quit its hold of me. I heard your name a little while ago. +What are you doing here, Linden?" + +"Rocking in the cradle of business as well as of the deep," said Mr. +Linden. "The last steamer brought word that I must sail by this, and so +here I am." + +"Who rocks the cradle of business?" said the doctor, with the old +comical lift of the eyebrows with which he used to begin a tilt with +Mr. Linden. + +"Duty and Interest rock it between them,--singing of rest, and keeping +one awake thereby." + +"A proper pair of nurses!" said the doctor. "Why man, they would tear +the infant Business to pieces between them! Unless one of them did as +much for the other in time to prevent it." + +"Never--unless Inclination took the place of Interest." + +"Don't make any difference," said the doctor;--"Inclination always +follows the lead of Interest.--Except in a few extraordinary specimens +of human nature." + +Mr. Linden turned towards the scattered groups of passengers, and so +doing his eye caught the shining of that very star which was rising +over Pattaquasset as he and Mignonette rode home two nights before. +Only two nights!--For a minute everything else might have been at the +antipodes--then Mr. Linden brought at least his eyes back to the deck +of the Vulcan. "What sort of a motley have we here, doctor? Do you know +many of them?" + +"Yes," said the doctor slightly;--"the usual combinations of Interest +and Inclination. I wonder if we are exceptions, Linden?" + +"The _usual_ combination is not, perhaps, just the best,--it is a nice +matter for a man to judge in his own case how far the proportions are +rectified." + +"He can't do it. Human machinery can't do it. Can you measure the +height of those waves while they dazzle your eyes with gold and purple +as they do now?" + +"Nay--but I can tell how much they do or do not throw me out of my +right course." + +"What course are you on now, Linden?" said the doctor with his +old-fashioned assumption of carelessness, dismissing the subject. + +"Now?" Mr. Linden repeated. "Do you mean in studies, travels, or +conversation?" + +"In conversation, you have as usual brought me to a point! I mean--if I +mean anything,--the other two; but I mean nothing, unless you like." + +"I do like. Just now, then, I am in the vacation before the last year +of my Seminary life,--for the rest, I am on my way to Germany." + +"Finish your course there, eh?" said the doctor. "Why man, I thought +you had found the 'four azure chains' long ago." + +"No, not to finish my course,--if I am kept in Germany more than a few +weeks, it will not be by 'azure' chains," said Mr. Linden. + +"That it will not!" said one of the young men coming up, fresh from the +tea-table and his cigar. "Azure chains?--pooh!--Linden breaks _them_ as +easy as Samson did the green withs. How biblical it makes one to be in +company with such a theologian! But I shouldn't wonder if he was going +to Europe to join some order of friars--he'll find nothing monastic +enough for him in America." + +"Mistaken your man, Motley!" said the doctor; who for reasons of his +own did not choose to quit the conversation. "The worst _I_ have to say +of him is, that if he spends an other year in Germany his hearers will +never be able to understand him!" + +"Mistaken him!" said Mr. Motley--"at this time of day,--that'll do! +Where did you get acquainted with him, pray?" + +"Once when I had the management of him," said the doctor coolly. "There +is no way of becoming acquainted with a man, like that." + +"Once when you _thought_ you had," said Mr. Motley. "Well, where was +it?--in a dark passage when you got to the door first?" + +"Whenever I have had the misfortune to be in a dark passage with him, +he has _shewed_ me the door," said the doctor gravely but gracefully, +in his old fashion admirably maintained. + +"If one of you wasn't Endecott Linden," said Mr. Motley throwing the +end of his cigar overboard, "I should think you had made acquaintance +on a highway robbery." + +"Instead of which, it was in the peaceful town of Pattaquasset," said +Mr. Linden. + +"Permit me to request the reason of Mr. Motley's extraordinary guess," +said the doctor. + +"So natural to say where you've met a man--if there's no reason against +it," said the other coolly. "But you don't say it was in Pattaquasset, +doctor? Were _you_ ever there?" + +"Depends entirely on the decision of certain questions in +metaphysics,"--said the doctor. "As for instance, whether anything that +is, _is_--and the matter of personal identity, which you know is +doubtful. I know the _appearance_ of the place, Motley." + + +"Are there any pretty girls there?" said Mr. Motley, carelessly, but +keeping his eye rather on Mr. Linden than the doctor. + +"Mr. Linden can answer better than I," said Dr. Harrison, whose eye +also turned that way, and whose tone changed somewhat in spite of +himself. "There are none there that could not answer any question about +Mr. Linden."-- + +"By the help of a powerful imagination," said the person spoken of. Mr. +Motley looked from one to the other. + +"I don't know what to make of either of you," he said. "Why doctor, +Endecott Linden is a--a mere--I don't like to call him hard names, and +I can't call him soft ones! However--to be sure--the cat may look at +the king, even if his majesty won't return the compliment. Well--you +and I were never thought hard-hearted, so I'll tell you my story. Did +it ever happen--or _seem_ to happen, doctor--that you, _seeming_ to be +in Pattaquasset, went--not to church--but along the road therefrom? +Preferring the exit to the entrance--as you and I too often do?" + +"It has seemed to happen to me,"--said Dr. Harrison, as if mechanically. + +"Well--George Alcott and I--do you know George?--no great loss--we were +kept one Sunday in that respectable little town by a freshet. Whether +it was one of those rains that bring down more things from the sky than +water, I don't know,--George declared it was. If it wasn't, we made +discoveries." + +"If you and George both used your eyes, there must have been +discoveries," said Mr. Linden. "Did you take notice how green the grass +looked after the rain? and that when the clouds were blown away the sun +shone?" + +"You're not all theology yet!" said Mr. Motley. "Be quiet--can't you? +I'm not talking to you. We were sauntering down this same road, +doctor--after church,--falling in with the people, so that we could see +them and be taken for churchgoers. But there wasn't much to see.--Then +George declared that here was the place where Linden had secluded +himself for nobody knows what,--then we fell naturally into lamenting +the waste of such fine material, and conned over various particulars of +his former life and prospects--the great promise of past years, the +present melancholy mania to make money and be useful. Upon which points +George and I fought as usual. Then we grew tired of the subject and of +the mud--turned short about--and beheld--what do you suppose, doctor?" + +"How far you had come for nothing?" + +"Imagine," said Mr. Motley, taking out a fresh cigar and a match and +proceeding to put them to their respective uses,--"Imagine the vision +that appeared to Balaam's ass--and how the ass felt." + +"Nay, that we cannot do," said Mr. Linden. "You tax us too far." + +"In both requisitions--" added the doctor. + +"There stood," said Mr. Motley, removing his cigar and waving it +gracefully in one hand. "There stood close behind us on the mud--she +could not have been in it--an immortal creature, in mortal merino! +We--transfixed, mute--stepped aside right and left to let her pass,--I +believe George had presence of mind enough to take off his hat; and +she--'severe in youthful beauty', glorious in youthful blushes--walked +on, looking full at us as she went. But such a look! and from such +eyes!--fabulous eyes, doctor, upon my honour. Then we saw that the +merino was only a disguise. Imagine a search warrant wrapped up in +moonbeams--imagine the blending of the softest sunset reflection with a +keen lightning flash,--and after all you have only words--not those +eyes. Linden!--seems to me your imagination serves you better +here,--your own eyes are worth looking at!" + +"It has had more help from you," Mr. Linden said, controlling the +involuntary unbent play of eye and lip with which he had heard the +description. + +"Well, George raved about them for a month," Mr. Motley went on, "and +staid in Pattaquasset a whole week to see them again--which he didn't; +so he made up his mind that they had escaped in the train of events--or +of ears, and now seeks them through the world. Some day he will meet +them in the possession of Mrs. Somebody--and then hang himself." And +Mr. Motley puffed out clouds of smoke thereupon. + +"According to your account, he could not do better," said the doctor +cynically. + +"I suppose the world would get on, if he did," said Mr. Motley with +philosophical coolness. "But the queerity was," he added, removing the +cigar once more, "what made her look at us so? Did she know by her +supernatural vision that we had not been to church?--for I must say, +Linden, she looked like one of your kind. Or were her unearthly ears +charmed by the account of your unearthly perfections?--for George and I +were doing the thing handsomely." + +"It was probably that," said Mr. Linden. "Few people, I think, can +listen to your stories unmoved." + +"Hang it," said Mr. Motley, "I wish I could!--This vixenish old craft +is behaving with a great deal too much suavity to suit my notions. I +don't care about making a reverence to every wave I meet if they're +going to tower up at this rate. But I guess you're right, Linden--the +description of you can be made quite captivating--and her cheeks glowed +like damask roses with some sort of inspiration. However, as George +pathetically and poetically remarks, + + 'I only know she came and went!'-- + +the last part of which illustrious example I shall follow. Linden, if +any story don't move _you_, you're no better than the North Cape." + +"Can you stand it?"--asked the doctor suddenly of his remaining +companion. + +"Yes--I have known Motley a long time." + +"Pshaw! no, I mean this wind." + +"I beg your pardon! Yes--for anything I have felt of it yet." + +"If you will excuse me, I will get something more on. I have come from +a warmer part of the world lately." + +The doctor disappeared, and found something in another part of the boat +to detain him. + +Dr. Harrison had stood one conversation, but he had no mind to stand a +second. He did not think it necessary. If by any possibility he could +have put himself on board of another steamer, or packet; or have leaped +forward into France, or back into America!--he would have done it. But +since he must see Mr. Linden from time to time in their present +situation, he contrived that that should be all. Even that was as +seldom and as little as possible; the art _not to see_, Dr. Harrison +could practise to perfection, and did now; so far as he could without +rendering it too obviously a matter of his own will. That would not +have suited his plans. So he saw his one-time friend as often as he +must, and then was civil invariably, civil with the respect which was +Dr. Harrison's highest degree of civility and which probably in this +instance was true and heartfelt; but he was cool, after his slight gay +surface manner, and even when speaking kept at a distance. For the +rest, it is notable, even in so small a space as the walls of a steamer +shut in, how far apart people can be that have no wish to be near. Days +passed that saw at the utmost only a bow exchanged between these two; +many days that heard but one or two words. Mr. Linden's own plans and +occupations, the arrangement of his time, helped to further the +doctor's wish. There was many an hour when Dr. Harrison would not have +found him if he had tried, but when they were really together the +non-intercourse was the doctor's fault. For all that had been, Mr. +Linden was still his friend,--he realized more and more every day the +value of the prize for which Dr. Harrison had played and lost; and pity +had made forgiveness easy. He was ready for all their old kindly +intercourse, but seeing the doctor shunned him there was nothing to do +but follow the lead. Sometimes indeed they came together for a few +minutes--were thrown so--in a way that was worse than hours of talk. + +The Vulcan had made about half her passage, and a fair, fresh morning +had brought most of the passengers on deck. Mr. Linden was not there, +but the rest were grouped and watching the approach of a homeward bound +steamer; when as she neared them Mr. Linden too came on deck. It was to +talk with the Captain however, not the passengers--or to consult with +him, for the two stood together speaking and smiling. "You can try," +Dr. Harrison heard the Captain say; and then he lifted his trumpet and +hailed--the other Captain responding. Still the steamer came on, nearer +and nearer,--still the two on the deck of the Vulcan stood side by +side; till at a certain point, just where the vessels were at the +nearest, Captain Cyclops gave his companion a little signal nod. And +Mr. Linden stepping forward a pace or two, lent the whole power of his +skill and strength to send a despatch on board the Polar Bear. The +little packet sped from his hand, spinning through the air like a dark +speck. Not a person spoke or moved--Would it reach?--would it +fail?--until the packet, just clearing the guards, fell safe on the +deck of the other vessel, was picked up by her Captain and proclaimed +through the speaking trumpet. Slightly raising his hat then, Mr. Linden +drew back from his forward position; just as a shout of delighted +acclaim burst from both the boats. + +"That went with a will, I tell _you!_" said Captain Cyclops with a +little nod of his head. + +"I say, Linden!" spoke out one of the young men--"is that your heart +you sent home?" + +"I feel it beating here yet," Mr. Linden answered. But just how much of +it he carried back to his state-room for the next hour has never been +ascertained. Society had no help from Dr. Harrison for more than that +length of time. Neither could proximity nor anything else make him, +visibly, aware of Mr. Linden's existence during the rest of the day. + +Mr. Linden knew the doctor too well--and it maybe said, knew Faith too +well--to be much surprised at that. If he could have spared Dr. +Harrison the pain of seeing his little air-sent missive, he would have +done it; but the letter could go but at one time, and from one side of +the ship--and just there and then Dr. Harrison chose to be. But though +the sort of growing estrangement which the doctor practised sprang from +no wish nor feeling but his own, yet Mr. Linden found it hard to touch +it in any way. Sometimes he tried--sometimes he left it for Time's +touching, which mends so many things. And slowly, and gently, _that_ +touch did work--not by fading one feeling but by deepening another. +Little as Dr. Harrison had to do with his friend, almost every one else +in the ship had a good deal, and the place which Mr. Linden soon took +in the admiration as well as the respect of the passengers, could not +fail to come to the doctor's notice. Men of very careless life and +opinions pruned their language in his presence,--those who lived but +for themselves, and took poor care of what they lived for, passed him +reverently on some of his errands through the ship. Dr. Harrison had +never lived with him before, and little as they saw each other, you +could as well conceal the perfume of a hidden bunch of violets--as well +shut your senses to the spring air--as could the doctor shut his to the +beauty of that well-grown Christian character. The light of it shone, +and the influence of it went forth through all the ship. + +"What a strange, incomprehensible, admirable fellow, Linden is!" said +Mr. Motley one day when he and the doctor were sunning themselves in +profound laziness on deck. It was rather late Sunday afternoon, and the +morning service had left a sort of respectful quietness behind it. + +"He must be!" said the doctor with a slight indescribable +expression,--"if at this moment you can be roused to wonder at +anything." + +Mr. Motley inclined his head with perfect suavity in honour of the +doctor's words. + +"It's a glorious thing to lie here on deck and do nothing!" he said, +extending his elegantly clad limbs rather more into the distance. "How +fine the breeze is, doctor--what do you think of the day, as a whole?" + +"Unfinished, at present,--" + +"Well--" said Mr. Motley,--"take that part of it which you with such +precision term 'this moment',--what do you think of it as it appears +here on deck?" + +"Sunny--" said the doctor,--"and we are flies. On the whole I think +it's a bore, Motley." + +"What do you think of the Black Hole of Calcutta, in comparison?" said +Mr. Motley closing his eyes. + +"The difference is, that _that_ would have been an insufferable bore." + +Mr. Motley smiled--stroking his chin with affectionate fingers. "On the +whole," he said, "I think you're right in that position. What do you +suppose Linden's about at this moment?" + +"Is he your ward?" said the doctor. + +"He's down below--" said Mr. Motley with a significant pointing of his +train of remarks. "By which I don't mean! that he's left this +planet--for truly, when he does I think it will be in a different +direction; but he's down in the steerage--trying to get some of those +creatures to follow him." + +"Which way?" + +"You and George Alcott have such a snappish thread in you!" said Mr. +Motley yawning--"only it sits better on George than it does on you. But +I like it--it rather excites me to be snubbed. However, here comes +Linden--so I hope they'll not follow him _this_ way." + +"This way" Mr. Linden himself did not come, but chose another part of +the deck for a somewhat prolonged walk in the seabreeze. The doctor +glanced towards him, then moved his chair slightly, so as to put the +walker out of his range of vision. + +"He's a good fellow enough," he remarked carelessly. "You were pleased +to speak of him just now as 'incomprehensible'--may I ask how he has +earned a title to that?" The tone was a little slighting. + +"Take the last instance--" said Mr. Motley,--"you yourself were pleased +to pronounce the steerage a more insufferable bore than the deck--yet +he chooses it,--and not only on Sundays. I don't believe there's a day +that he don't go down there. He's popular enough without it--'tisn't +that. And nobody knows it--one of the sailors told me. If he was a +medico, like you, doctor, there'd be less wonder--but as it is!--" and +Mr. Motley resigned himself again to the influence of the sunshine. A +moment's meditation on the doctor's part, to judge by his face, was +delectable. + +"There isn't any sickness down there?" he said then. + +"Always is in the steerage--isn't there?" said Mr. Motley,--"I don't +know!--the surgeon can tell you." + +"There's no occasion,--" said the doctor with a little haughtiness. "He +knows who I am." + +And Dr. Harrison too resigned himself, apparently, to the sunny +influences of the time and was silent. + +But as the sun went down lower and lower, Mr. Motley roused himself up +and went off to try the effect upon his spirits of a little cheerful +society,--then Mr. Linden came and took the vacant chair. + +"How beautiful it is!" he said, in a tone that was half greeting, half +meditation. The start with which Dr. Harrison heard him was skilfully +transformed into a natural change of position. + +"Beautiful?--yes," said he. "Has the beauty driven Motley away?" + +"He is gone.--Your waves are very dazzling to-night, doctor." + +"They are helping us on," said the doctor looking at them. "We shall be +in after two days more--if this holds." + +Helping us on--perhaps the thought was not unqualified in Mr. Linden's +mind, for he considered that--or something else--in grave silence for a +minute or two. + +"Dr. Harrison," he said suddenly, "you asked me about my course--I wish +you would tell me yours. Towards what--for what. You bade me call +myself a friend--may I use a friend's privilege?" He spoke with a +grave, frank earnestness. + +The doctor's face shewed but a small part of the astonishment which +this speech raised. It shewed a little. + +"I can be but flattered!--" he said with something of the old graceful +medium between play and earnest. "You ask me what I am hardly wise +enough to answer you. I am going to Paris, and you to Germany. After +that, I really know about as much of one 'course' as of the other." + +"My question referred, not to the little daily revolutions, but to the +great life orbit. Harrison, what is yours to be?" + +Evidently it was an uneasy question. Yet the power of influence--or of +associations--was such that Dr. Harrison did not fling it away. "I +remember," he said, not without some bitterness of accent--"you once +did me the honour to profess to care." + +"I do care, very much." And one of the old looks, that Dr. Harrison +well remembered--said the words were true. + +"You do me more honour than I do myself," he said, not so lightly as he +meant to say it. "I do not care. I see nothing to care for." + +"You refuse to see it--" Mr. Linden said gently and sorrowfully. + +Dr. Harrison's brow darkened--it might be with pain, for Mr. Linden's +words were the echo of others he had listened to--not long ago. In a +moment he turned and spoke with an impulse--of bravado? Perhaps he +could not have defined, and his companion could not trace. + +"I refuse to see nothing!--but I confess to you I see nothing +distinctly. What sort of an 'orbit' would you propose to me?" + +The tone sounded frank, and certainly was not unkind. Mr. Linden's +answer was in few words--"'To them who by patient continuance in well +doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life'." + +Dr. Harrison remained a little while with knitted brow looking down at +his hands, which certainly were in an order to need no examination. +Neither was he examining them. When he looked up again it was with the +frankness and kindliness both more defined. Perhaps, very strange to +his spirit, a little shame was at work there. + +"Linden," he said, "I believe in you! and if ever I enter upon an orbit +of any sort, I'll take up yours. But--" said he relapsing into his +light tone, perhaps of intent,--"you know two forces are necessary to +keep a body going in one--and I assure you there is none, of any sort, +at present at work upon me!" + +"You are mistaken," said Mr. Linden,--"there are two." + +"Let's hear--" said the doctor without looking at him. + +"In the first place your conscience, in the second your will." + +"You have heard of such things as both getting stagnant for want of +use--haven't you?" + +"I have heard of the one being half choked by the other," said Mr. +Linden: + +"It's so warm this afternoon that I can't contradict you. What do you +want me to do, Linden?" + +"Let conscience do its work--and then you do yours." + +A minute's silence. + +"You do me honour, to believe I have such a thing as a +conscience,"--said the doctor again a little bitterly. "I didn't use to +think it, myself." + +He was unaware that it was that very ignored principle which had forced +him to make this speech. + +"My dear friend--" Mr. Linden began, and he too paused, looking off +gravely towards the brightening horizon. "Then do yourself the honour +to let conscience have fair play," he went on presently,--"it is too +delicate a stream to bear the mountain torrents of unchecked will and +keep its clearness." + +"Hum!--there's no system of drainage that ever I heard of that will +apply up in those regions!" said the doctor, after again a second's +delay to speak. "And you are doing my will too much honour now--I tell +you it is in a state of stagnation, and I don't at present see any +precipice to tumble down. When I do, I'll promise to think of you--if +that thought isn't carried away too.--Come, Linden!" he said with more +expression of kindliness than Mr. Linden had seen certainly during all +the voyage before,--"I believe in you, and I will!--though I suppose my +words do seem to you no better than the very spray of those torrents +you are talking about. Will you walk?--Motley put me to sleep, but you +have done one good thing--you have stirred me to desire action at +least." + +It was curious, how the power of character, the power of influence, had +borne down passion and jealousy--even smothered mortification and +pride--and made the man of the world speak truth. Mr. Linden rose--yet +did not immediately begin the walk; for laying one hand on the doctor's +shoulder with a gesture that spoke both regard and sorrow and entreaty, +he stood silently looking off at the colours in the west. + +"Dr. Harrison," he said, "I well believe that your mother and mine are +dear friends in heaven--God grant that we may be, too!" + +Then they both turned, and together began their walk. It lasted till +they were summoned to tea; and from that time till they got in there +was no more avoidance of his old friend by the doctor. His manner was +changed; if he did not find enjoyment in Mr. Linden's society he found +somewhat else which had value for him. There was not again a shade of +dislike or of repulsion; and when they parted on landing, though it +might be that there lay in Dr. Harrison's secret heart a hope that he +might never see Mr. Linden again, there lay with it also, as surely, a +secret regret. + +Now all that Faith knew of this for a long time, was from a newspaper; +where--among a crowd of unimportant passengers in the Vulcan's +list--she read the names of Dr. Harrison and J. E. Linden. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + + +Faith and her mother sat alone at breakfast. About a fortnight of grave +quiet had followed after the joyous month that went before, with little +enlivening, few interruptions. Without, the season had bloomed into +greater luxuriance,--within, the flowers now rarely came; and Faith's +flowerless dress and belt and hair, said of themselves that Mr. Linden +was away. Roses indeed peeped through the windows, and thrust their +heads between the blinds, but no one invited them in. + +Not so peremptorily as the roses--and yet with more assurance of +welcome--Reuben Taylor knocked at the door during breakfast time; +scattering the abstract musings that floated about the coffee-pot and +mingled with its vapoury cloud. + +"Sit down, Reuben," said Faith jumping up;--"there's a place for +you,--and I'll give you a plate." To which Reuben only replied, "A +letter, Miss Faith!"--and putting it in her hands went off with quick +steps. On the back of it was written, up in one corner--"Flung on board +the Polar Bear, by a strong hand, from steamship Vulcan, half way +across." + +There was no need of flowers now truly in the house, for Faith stood by +the table transformed into a rose of summer joy. + +"Mother!" she exclaimed,--"It's from sea--half way across."-- + +"From sea!--half way across--" her mother repeated. "Why child, what +are you talking about? You don't mean that Mr. Linden's contrived to +make a letter swim back here already, do you?" + +Faith hardly heard. A minute she stood, with her eyes very like what +Mr. Motley had graphically described them to be, breaking the seal with +hurried fingers,--and then ran away. The breakfast table and Mrs. +Derrick waited--they waited a long time before Faith came back to eat a +cold breakfast, which tasted of nothing but sea-breezes and was +therefore very strengthening. The strengthening effect went through the +day; there was a fresh colour in Faith's face. Fifty times at least the +"moonbeams" of her eyes saw a "strong hand" throw her packet across the +sea waves that separated the two steamers; the master of the "Polar +Bear" might guess, but Faith knew, that a strong heart had done it as +well. And when her work was over Faith put a rose in her belt in honour +of the day, and sat down to her books, very happy. + +The books were engrossing, and it was later than usual when she came +down stairs to get tea, but Mrs. Derrick was out. That wasn't very +strange. Faith went through the little routine of preparation,--then +she took another book and sat down by the sweet summer air of the open +window to wait. By and by Mrs. Derrick came slowly down the road, +opened and shut the gate with the same air of abstracted +deliberateness, and came up the steps looking tired and flushed. In the +porch Faith met and kissed her. + +"Where have you been now, mother? tea's ready." + +"Pretty child!" was Mrs. Derrick's answer, "how glad I am you got that +letter this morning!" + +Faith smiled; _she_ didn't forget it, but it was not to be expected +that it should be quite so present to Mrs. Derrick's mind. Yet almost +at the same instant she felt that her mother had some particular reason +for saying that just then. + +"Where have you been, mother?" + +"Up to Squire Stoutenburgh's," said Mrs. Derrick, putting herself +wearily in the rocking-chair,--"and they were all out gone--to Pequot +to spend the day. So I lost my labour." + +Gently Faith stood before her and took off her bonnet. "What did you go +there for, mother?" + +"I wanted to see him--" said Mrs. Derrick. "Squire Deacon's been here, +Faith." + +"Mother! Is he back again?--What for?" + +"Settle here and live, I suppose. He's married--that's one thing. What +was he here for?--why the old story, Faith,--he wants the place." And +Mrs. Derrick's eyes looked as if she wanted it too. + +"Does he want it very much, mother?" + +"Means to have it, child--and I don't feel as if I could live in any +other house in Pattaquasset. So I thought maybe Mr. Stoutenburgh would +make him hold off till next year, Faith," said Mrs. Derrick, a little +smile coming back to her lips. "I guess I'll go up again after tea." + +Faith coaxed her mother into the other room and gave her her tea +daintily; revolving in her mind the while many things. When tea was +over and Mrs. Derrick was again bent upon business, Faith ventured a +question. "Mother, what do you suppose Squire Stoutenburgh can do to +help us?" + +"I can't tell, child,--he might talk Sam Deacon into letting us keep +the house, at least. We've got to live somewhere, you know, Faith. It's +no sort of use for me to talk to him,--he's as stiff as a crab +tree--and I aint. I think I'll try." + +"To-night, mother?" + +"I thought I would." + +Faith hesitated, putting the cups together. "Mother, I'll go. I dare +say I shall do as well." + +"I'm afraid you're tired too, pretty child," said Mrs. Derrick, but +with evident relief at the very idea. + +"I tired?--Never," said Faith. "You rest, mother--and don't fear," she +added, kissing her. "I'll put on my bonnet--and be there and back again +in a little while." + +The summer twilight was falling grey, but Faith knew she could have a +guardian to come home; and besides the road between the two houses was +thickly built up and perfectly safe. The evening glow was almost gone, +the stars faintly gleaming out in the blue above; a gentle sea breeze +stirred the branches and went along with Faith on her errand. Now was +this errand grievously unpleasing to Faith, simply because of the +implication of that _one year_ of reprieve which she must ask for. How +should she manage it? But her way was clear; she must manage it as she +could. + +Spite of this bugbear, she had gone with a light free step all along +her road, walking rather quick; for other thoughts had kept her +company, and the image of her little flying packet shot once and again +through her mind. At length she came to Mr. Stoutenburgh's gate, and +Faith's foot paused. Light shone through the muslin curtains; and as +her step neared the front door the broken sounds of voices and laughter +came unwelcomely through. A most unnecessary formality her knock was, +but one of the children came to the door and ushered her at once into +the tea-room, where the family were waiting for their late tea. Mrs. +Stoutenburgh--looking very pretty in her light summer dress--was half +reclining on the sofa, professing that she was tired to death, but +quite failing to excite any sympathy thereby in the group of children +who had not seen her since morning. The Squire himself walked leisurely +up and down, with his hands behind him, sometimes laughing at the +children sometimes helping on their play. Through the room was the full +perfume of roses, and the lamplight could not yet hide the departing +glow of the western horizon. Into this group and atmosphere little +Linda brought the guest, with the simple announcement, "Mother, it's +Miss Faith." + +"Miss Faith!" Mrs. Stoutenburgh exclaimed, starting up and dispersing +the young ones,--"Linda, you shall have a lump of sugar!--My dear other +child, how do you do?--and what sweet corner of your little heart sent +you up here to-night? You have not--no, that can't be,--and you +wouldn't come here if you had. But dear Faith, how are you?"--and she +was rescued from the Squire and carried off to the sofa to answer at +her leisure. With a sort of blushing, steadfast grace, which was common +with her in the company of friends who were in her secret, Faith +answered. + +"And you haven't had tea yet,"--she said remorsefully. "I came to give +Mr. Stoutenburgh some trouble--but I can do it in three minutes." Faith +looked towards the Squire. + +"My dear," he said, "it would take you three years!" + +"But Faith," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh--"here comes the tea, and you can't +go home without Mr. Stoutenburgh,--and nothing qualifies him for +business like a contented state of his appetite!" + +Faith laughed and sat down again, and then was fain upon persuasion to +take a place at the table, which was a joyous scene enough. Faith did +little but fill a place; her mind was busy with thoughts that began to +come pressingly; she tried not to have it seem so. + +"My dear," said the Squire as he helped Faith to raspberries, "what +fine weather we have had, eh?" + +"Beautiful weather!"--Faith responded with a little energy. + +"Papa," said one of the children, "do you think Mr. Linden's had it +fine too?" + +"What tangents children's minds go off in!" observed Mrs. Stoutenburgh. +"Faith! don't eat your raspberries without sugar,--how impatient you +are. You used to preach patience to me when I was sick." + +"I can be very patient, with these raspberries and no sugar," said +Faith, wishing she could hide the bloom of her cheeks as easily as she +hid that of the berries under the fine white shower. + +"Poor child!" said her friend gently,--"I think you have need of all +your patience." And her hands came softly about Faith's plate, removing +encumbrances and adding dainties, with a sort of mute sympathy that at +the moment could find no more etherial channel. "Mr. Stoutenburgh drove +down to Quapaw the other day," she went on in a low voice, "to ask +those fishing people what indications our land weather gave of the +weather at sea; and--he couldn't half tell me about his visit when he +came home," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, breaking short off in her account. +"Linda, go get that glass of white roses and set it by Miss +Faith,--maybe she'll take them home with her." + +Faith looked at the white roses and smelled their sweetness; and then +she said, "Who did you see, Mr. Stoutenburgh?--down at Quapaw?" + +"None of the men, my dear--they were all away, but I saw half the rest +of the village; and even the children knew what report the men had +brought in, and what _they_ thought of the weather. Everybody had a +good word to say about it, Miss Faith; and everybody--I do believe!" +said the Squire reverently, "had been on their knees to pray for it. +Jonathan Ling's wife said that was all they could ever do for him." +Which pronoun, be it understood, did not refer to Jonathan Ling. + +"They're Mr. Linden's roses, Miss Faith," said little Linda, who stood +waiting for more marked admiration,--"do you like them? He always did." + +Faith kissed the child, partly to thank her and to stop her lips, +partly to hide her own which she felt were tale-telling. + +"Where did you get the roses, Linda?" + +"O off the bush in the garden. But Mr. Linden always picked one +whenever he came, and sometimes he'd stop on his way to school, and +just open the gate and get one of these white roses and then go away +again. So we called it Mr. Linden's bush." Faith endeavoured to attend +to her raspberries after this. When tea was over she was carried off +into the drawing-room and the children were kept out. + +"If you want me away too, Faith," Mrs. Stoutenburgh said as she +arranged the lamp and the curtains, "I'll go." + +"I don't want you to go, ma'am."--And then covering her trepidation +under the simplest of grave exteriors, Faith spoke to the point. "It is +mother's business. Squire Deacon has come home, Mr. Stoutenburgh." + +"My dear," said the Squire, "I know he has. I heard it just before you +came in. But he's married, Miss Faith." + +"That don't content him," said Faith, "for he wants our farm." + +"Rascal!" said Mr. Stoutenburgh in an emphatic under tone,--"the old +claim, I suppose. What's the state of it now, my dear?" + +"Nothing new, sir; he has a right to it, I suppose. The mortgage is +owing, and we haven't been able to pay anything but the interest, and +that must be a small rent for the farm." Faith paused. Mrs. +Stoutenburgh was silent; looking from one to the other anxiously,--the +Squire himself was not very intelligible. + +"Yes"--he said,--"of course. Your poor father only lived to make the +second payment. I don't know why I call him poor--he's rich enough now. +But Sam Deacon!--a small rent? too much for him to get,--and too +little.--Why my dear!" he said suddenly sitting up straight and facing +round upon Faith, "I thought--What does your mother expect to do, Miss +Faith?--has she seen Sam? What does he say?" + +"He came to see her this afternoon, sir--he is bent upon having the +place, mother says. And she don't like to leave the old house," Faith +said slowly. "He will take the farm, I suppose,--but mother thought, +perhaps, sir--if you would speak to Mr. Deacon, he would let us stay in +the house--only the house without anything else--for another year. +Mother wished it--I don't know that your speaking to him could do any +good." Faith went straight through, but the rosy colour sprung and grew +till its crimson reached her forehead. Not the less she went clearly +through with what she had to say, her eyes only at the last words +drooping. Mr. Stoutenburgh rose up with great energy and stood before +her. + +"My dear," he said, "he shall do it! If it was any other man I'd +promise to make him do more, but Sam always must have some way of +amusing himself, and I'm afraid I can't make this as expensive as the +last one he tried. You tell your mother, Miss Faith, that she shall +stay in her house till she'd rather go to yours. I hope that won't be +more than a year, but if it is she shall stay." + +"That's good, Mr. Stoutenburgh!" said his wife with a little clap of +her hands. + +Whether Faith thought it was 'good' might be a question; her eyes fell +further, she did not offer to thank Mr. Stoutenburgh for his energetic +kindness, nor to say anything. Yet Faith had seemingly more to say, for +she made no motion to go. She sat quite still a few minutes, till +raising her eyes fully to Mr. Stoutenburgh's face she said gravely, +"Mother will feel very glad when I tell her that, sir." + +"She may make herself easy But tell her, my dear," said the Squire, +again forgetting in his earnestness what ground he was on,--"tell her +she's on no account to tell Sam _why_ she wants to stay. Will you +recollect that, Miss Faith?" + +Faith's eyes opened slightly. "I think he must know--or guess it, Mr. +Stoutenburgh? Mother says she could hardly bear to live in any other +house in Pattaquasset." + +"My dear Miss Faith!" said Mr. Stoutenburgh,--"I mean!--why she don't +want to stay any longer. _That's_ what Sam mustn't know. I'm very +stupid about my words, always." + +Faith was again obliged to wait a few minutes before she could go on. +Mrs. Stoutenburgh was the first to speak, for the Squire walked up and +down, no doubt (mentally) attacking Mr. Deacon. + +"I'm so glad!" she said, with the old dance of her eyes--and yet a +little sigh too. "So glad and so happy, that I could cry,--I know I +shall when the time comes. Dear Faith, do you feel quite easy about +this other business now?" + +"What, ma'am?--about Mr. Deacon?" + +"Why yes!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing,--"isn't that the only one +you've been uneasy about?" + +"I am not uneasy now," said Faith. "But Mr. Stoutenburgh--if Mr. Deacon +takes the farm back again, whom does the hay belong to, and the cattle, +and the tools and farm things?" + +"All that's _on the land_--all that's growing on it, goes with it. All +that's under cover and moveable belongs to you." + +"Then the hay in the barn is ours?" + +"Everything in the barn." + +"There's a good deal in the barn," said Faith with a brightening face. +"You know the season has been early, sir, and our hay-fields lie well +to the sun; and a great deal of the hay is in. Mr. Deacon will want +some rent for the house I suppose,--and I guess there will be hay +enough to pay it, whatever it is. For I can't sell my cows!--" she +added laughing a little. + +Her two friends--the Squire on the floor and his wife on the +sofa--looked at her and then at each other. + +"My dear," the Squire began, "I want to ask you a question. And before +I do, let me tell you--which perhaps you don't know--just what right +I"-- + +"Oh Mr. Stoutenburgh!" cried his wife, "do please hush!--you'll say +something dreadful." + +"Not a bit of it--" said the Squire,--"I know what to say this time, my +dear, and when to stop. I wanted to tell you, Miss Faith, that I am +your regularly appointed guardian--therefore if I ask questions you +will understand why." But what more on that subject the Squire might +have said, and said not, was left to conjecture. Faith looked at him, +wondering, colouring, doubting. + +"I never heard of it before, sir," she said. + +"You shouldn't say _regularly_, Mr. Stoutenburgh," said his +wife,--"Faith will think she is to be under your control." + +"I shouldn't say _legally_," said the Squire, "and I didn't. No she +aint under my control. I only mean, Miss Faith," he said turning to +her, "that I am appointed to look after your interests, till somebody +who is better qualified comes to do it." + +"There--Mr. Stoutenburgh,--don't go any further," said his wife. + +"Not in that direction," said the Squire. "Now my dear, if Sam Deacon +will amuse himself in this way, as I said, what will you do? Do the +farm and the house about counterbalance each other most years?" + +Faith never knew how she separated the two parts of her nature enough +at this moment to be practical, but she answered. "We have been able to +pay the interest on the mortgage, sir, every year. That's all. Mother +has not laid up anything." + +The Squire took a turn or two up and down the room, then came and stood +before her again. "My dear," he said, "you can't tell just yet what +your plans will be, so I won't ask you to-night, but you had better let +me deal with Sam Deacon, and the new tenant, and the hay, and +everything else. And you may draw upon me for something more solid, to +any amount you please." + +"Something more solid than yourself!--O Mr. Stoutenburgh!" his wife +said, though her eyes were bright with more than one feeling. + +Faith was silent a minute, and then gave Mr. Stoutenburgh a full view +of those steady eyes that some people liked and some did not care _just +so_ to meet. + +"No, sir!--" she said with a smile and also a little wistful look of +the gratitude she did not speak,--"if the hay will pay the rent, I +don't want anything else. Mother and I can do very well. We will be +very much obliged to you to manage Mr. Deacon for us--and the hay. I +think I can manage the rest. I shall keep the cows and make +butter,"--she said with a laughing flash of the eye. + +"O delicious!" cried Mrs. Stoutenburgh, "(I mean the butter, +Faith)--but will you let me have it?" + +"You don't want it," said Faith. + +"I do!--nobody makes such butter--I should eat my breakfast with a new +appetite, and so would Sam. We never can get butter enough when he's in +the house. I'll send down for it three times a week--how often do you +churn, Faith?" + +Faith came close up to her and kissed her as she whispered laughingly, +"Every day!" + +"Then I'll send every day!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh clapping her hands. +"And then I shall hear of you once in a while.--Ungrateful child, you +haven't been here before since--I suppose it won't do to say when," she +added, kissing Faith on both cheeks. "I shall tell Mr. Linden it is not +benevolent to pet you so much." + +"But my dear--my dear--" said the Squire from one to the other. "Well, +well,--I'll talk to you another time, Miss Faith,--I can't keep up with +more than one lady at once. You and Mrs. Stoutenburgh have gone on +clean ahead of me." + +"What's the matter, Mr. Stoutenburgh?" said Faith. "I would like to +hear it now, for there is something I want settled." + +"What's that?" said the Squire. + +"Will you please go on, sir?" + +"I guess I'll hear you first," said the Squire. "You seem to know just +what you want to say, Miss Faith, and I'm not sure that I do." + +"You said we had gone on ahead of you, sir. Shall we go back now?" + +"Why my dear," said the Squire smiling, "I thought you two were +settling up accounts and arrangements rather fast, that's all. If they +are the beginning and end, _that's_ very well; but if they're only +premonitory symptoms, that again's different." + +"And not 'very well'?" said Faith, waiting. + +"Not very," said Mr. Stoutenburgh shaking his head. + +"How should it be better, sir?" + +"My dear, in general, what is needless can be spared." + +"I don't know what I am going to do, Mr. Stoutenburgh. I am going to do +nothing needless, not wilfully needless. But I am going to do it +_without help_." She stood before him, with perfect gentleness but with +as clear determination in both look and manner, making her meaning +known. Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughed, the Squire stood looking at her in a +smiling perplexity. Finally went straight to the point. + +"Miss Faith, it is doubly needless that you should do anything more +than you've been doing--everybody knows that's enough. In the first +place, my dear, you are your father's child--and that's all that need +be said, till my purse has a hole at both ends. In the next +place--shall I tell her what she is in the next place, Mrs. +Stoutenburgh?" + +"I fancy she knows," said his wife demurely. + +"Well," said the Squire, "the next place is the first place, after all, +and I haven't the right to do much but take care of her. But my dear, I +have it under hand and seal to take better care than that." + +"Than what, sir?"--said Faith with very deep colour, but unchanged +bearing. + +"I don't know yet," said Mr. Stoutenburgh, "any more than you know what +you are going to do. Than to let you do anything that would grieve your +dear friend and mine. If I could shew you the letter you'd understand, +Miss Faith, but I'm not good at repeating. 'To take care of you as lie +would'--that was part of it. And because I can't half carry out such +instructions, is no sign I shouldn't do it a quarter." And the Squire +stood as firm on his ground as Faith on hers. + +No, not quite; for in her absolute gentleness there was a power of +intent expressed, which rougher outlines could but give with less +emphasis. The blood spoke for her eloquently before Faith could find +any sort of words to speak for herself, brought now by more feelings +than one; yet still she stood before the Squire, drooping her head a +little, a soft statue of immoveability. Only once, just before she +spoke, both Faith's hands went up to her brow to push the hair back; a +most unusual gesture of agitation. But her look and her words were +after the same steady fashion as before, aggravated by a little wicked +smile, and Faith's voice sounded for sweetness like silver bells. + +"You can't do it, Mr. Stoutenburgh!--not that way. Take care of me +every other way;--but I'll not have--of that sort--a bit of help."-- + +The Squire looked at her with a mixture of amusement and perplexity. + +"Pin to follow suit--" he said,--"but then I don't just know what Mr. +Linden would do in such a case! Can you tell me, Miss Faith?" + +"It is no matter--it would not make any difference." + +"What would not?" said the Squire innocently. + +"Anything that he could do, sir;--so you have no chance." She coloured +gloriously, but she smiled at him too with her last words. + +"Well, Miss Faith," said Mr. Stoutenburgh, "I have my doubts as to the +correctness of that first statement; but I'll tell you what _I_ shall +do, my refractory young lady. If you set about anything outside the +limits, I'll do my best to thwart you,--there!" + +If Faith was not a match for him, there was no meaning in the laugh of +her dark eye. But she only bade Mrs. Stoutenburgh an affectionate good +night, took her bunch of white roses and Mr. Stoutenburgh's arm and set +out to go home. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + + +Faith put her roses in water and listened half a minute to their +strange silent messages. But after that she did a great deal of +thinking. If all went well, and Mr. Linden got home safe from +abroad,--and _this_ year were all she had to take care for, it was a +very little matter to keep the year afloat, and very little matter, in +her estimation, whatever she might have to do for the purpose. But +those "ifs" no mortal could answer for. Faith did not look much at that +truth, but she acted upon it; prayed over her thoughts and brought her +plans into shape in very humble consciousness of it. And at the early +breakfast the next morning she began to unfold them; which as Mrs. +Derrick did not like them, led on to a long talk; but Faith as usual +had her way. + +After some preliminary arrangements, and late in the day, she set off +upon a long walk to Miss Bezac's. The slant beams of the summer sun +were again upon the trim little house as Faith came up towards it. +Things were changed since she was there before! changed a good deal +from the gay, joyous playtime of that visit. Mr. Linden in Europe, and +she--"It is very well," thought Faith; "it might not have been good for +me to have too much of such a time. Next year"-- + +Would if it brought joy, bring also an entering upon real life-work. +Faith knew it; she had realized long before with a thought of pain, +that this summons to Europe had perhaps cut short her last time of +absolute holiday pleasure. Mr. Linden could hardly now be more than a +few days in Pattaquasset before "next year" should come--and Faith did +not stop to look at that; she never thought of it three minutes +together. But life-work looked to her lovely;--what did not? Even the +little pathway to Miss Bezac's door was pleasant. She was secretly glad +of that other visit now, which had made this one so easy; though yet a +sympathetic blush started as she went in. + +"Why Faith!" said Miss Bezac,--"you're the _very_ person I was thinking +of, and the very one I wanted to see! though I always do want to see +you, for that matter, and don't often get what I want. Then I don't +generally want much. But what a beautiful visit we had last time! Do +you know I've been conjuring ever since how your dress should be made? +What'll it be, to begin with?--I always do like to begin with that--and +it's bothered me a good deal--not knowing it, I mean. I couldn't +arrange so well about the making. Because making white satin's one +thing, and muslin's another,--and lace is different from 'em both--and +indeed from most other things except spider's webs." All which pleasant +and composing sentiments were uttered while Miss Bezac was clearing a +chair for Faith, and putting her in it, and laying her various pieces +of work together. + +"I shouldn't be the least bit of help to you," said Faith who couldn't +help laughing. "Can't it wait?" + +"Why it'll have to," said Miss Bezac; "he said it must,--but that's no +reason I should. I always like a reason for everything. It took me an +age and a quarter to find out why Miss Essie De Staff always will wear +aprons. She wears 'em out, too, in more ways than one, but that's good +for me. Only there's so many ways of making them that I get in a +puzzle. Now this one, Faith--would you work it with red flowers or +green?--I said black, but she will have colours. You've got a good +colour to-day--O don't you want some bread and milk?" said Miss Bezac, +dropping the apron. + +"No, thank you!" said Faith laughing again,--"not to-day. I should work +that with green, Miss Bezac." + +"But I'm afraid green won't do, with black above and black below," said +Miss Bezac. "Two sides to things you know, Faith,--aprons and all the +rest. I'd a great mind to work it with both, and then she couldn't say +she'd rather have had 'tother. What things I _have_ worked in my +day!--but my day's twilight now, and my eyes find it out." + +"Do you have more to do than you can manage, generally?" said Faith. + +"Why no, child, because I never take any more,--that's the way not to +have things--troubles or aprons. I could have my hands full of both, +but what's the use?--when one hasn't eyes--for sewing or crying. Mrs. +Stoutenburgh comes, and Mrs. Somers, and Miss Essie--and the landlord, +and sometimes I let 'em leave me a job, and sometimes I don't,--send +'em, dresses, and all, off to Quilipeak." + +"Then I'll tell you what you shall give me to-day--instead of bread and +milk;--some of the work that you would send off. Don't you remember," +said Faith, smiling quietly at Miss Bezac's eyes,--"you once promised +to teach me to embroider waistcoats?" + +"Why yes!" said Miss Bezac--"and so I will. But, my dear, are you sure +he would wear it?--and after all, isn't it likely he'll get everything +of that sort he wants, in Paris? And then the size!--who's to tell what +that should be? To be sure you could do the fronts, and have them made +up afterwards--and of course he _would_ wear anything you made.--I'll +go right off and get my patterns." + +Faith's confusion was startled. It was Miss Bezac's turn to look at +her. She caught hold of the seamstress and brought her back to +listening at least. + +"Stop!--Miss Bezac!--you don't understand me. I want work!--I want +work. I am not talking of making anything for anybody!--" Faith's eyes +were truthful now, if ever they were. + +"Well then--how can you work, if you won't make anything for anybody? +Want work, Faith?--you don't mean to say all that story about Sarn +Deacon's _true?_ Do you know," said Miss Bezac, dropping into a chair +and folding her hands, "when I heard that man had gone out of town, I +said to myself, it would be a mercy if he never came back!"--which was +the severest censure Miss Bezac ever passed upon anybody. "I really +did," she went on,--"and now he's come, and I s'pose I've got to say +_that_'s a mercy too--and this,--though I wouldn't believe it last +night." + +"Then you have heard it?" + +"My ears did, and they're pretty good ears too,--though I do get out of +patience with them now and then." + +"It's true," said Faith, "and it's nothing very dreadful. Mother and I +have nothing to live upon but what I can make by butter; so I thought I +would learn and take work of you, if you had it for me. I could soon +understand it; and then you can let people bring you as much as they +will--what you cannot do, I will do. I could think of nothing so +pleasant;--no way to make money, I mean." + +For a minute Miss Bezac sat quite still,--then she roused up. + +"Nothing to live upon but butter!"--she said,--"well that's not +much,--at least if there's ever so much of it you want something else. +And what you want you must have--if you can get it. And I can get you +plenty of work--and it's a good thing to understand this sort of work +too, for he might carry you off to some random place where they wear +calico just as they can put it on--and that wouldn't suit you, nor him +neither. I don't believe _this_'ll suit him though--and it don't me, +not a bit. I'm as proud as a Lucifer match for anybody I love. But I'll +make you proud of your work in no time. What'll you do first? embroider +or stitch or cut out or baste or fit?" + +"What you please--what you think best. But Miss Bezac, what are you +'proud' about?" + +"O I've my ways and means, like other folks," said Miss Bezac. "And you +can do something more striking than aprons for people that don't need +'em. But I'm not going to give you _this_ apron, Faith--I sha'n't have +her wearing your work all round town, and none the wiser. See--this is +nice and light and pretty--like the baby it's for,--you like green, +don't you? and so will your eyes." + +"I'd as lieve have Miss Essie wear my work as eat my butter," said +Faith. "But," she added more gravely,--"I think that what God gives me +to do, I ought to be proud to do,--and I am sure I am willing. He knows +best." + +"Yes, yes, my dear--I believe that,--and so I do most things you say," +answered Miss Bezac, bringing forth from the closet a little roll of +green calico. "Now do you like this?--because if you don't, say so." + +"I'll take this," said Faith, "and the next time I'll take the apron. I +must do just as much as I can, Miss Bezac; and you must let me. Would +you rather have the apron done first? I want Miss Essie's apron, Miss +Bezac!" + +"Well you can't have it," said Miss Bezac,--"and what you can't, you +can't--all the world over. Begin slow and go on fast--that's the best +way. And I'll take the best care of you!--lay you up in lavender,--like +my work when it's done and isn't gone home." + +So laughingly they parted, and Faith went home with her little bundle +of work, well contented. + +A very few days had seen the household retrenchments made. Cindy was +gone, and Mr. Skip was only waiting for a "boy" to come. Mother and +daughter drew their various tools and conveniences into one room and +the kitchen, down stairs, to have the less to take care of; abandoning +the old eating-room except as a passage-way to the kitchen; and taking +their meals, for greater convenience, in the latter apartment. + +Faith did not shut up her books without some great twinges of pain; but +she said not one word on the matter. She bestowed on her stitching and +on her housework and on her butter the diligent zeal which used to go +into French rules and philosophy. But Mrs. Stoutenburgh had reckoned +without her host, for there was a great deal more of the butter than +she could possibly dispose of; and Judge Harrison's family and Miss De +Staff's became joint consumers and paid the highest price for it, that +Faith would take. But this is running ahead of the story. + +Some days after Faith's appeal to Mr. Stoutenburgh had passed, before +the Squire presented himself to report progress. He found both the +ladies at work in the sitting-room, looking very much as usual, except +that there was a certain not inelegant disposition of various pieces of +muslin and silk and ribbon about the room which carried the appearance +of business. + +"What rent will Mr. Deacon have, Mr. Stoutenburgh?" said Faith looking +up from her needle. + +"My dear, he'll have what he can get," said the Squire, "but what +_that_'ll be, Miss Faith, he and I haven't just made up our minds." + +"How much ought it to be, sir, do you think?" + +"Nothing at all," said the Squire,--"not a cent." + +"Do you think not, sir?" said Faith doubtfully. + +"Not a cent!" the Squire repeated,--"and I told him so, and said he +might throw the barn into the bargain and not hurt himself." + +"Will he agree to that, Mr. Stoutenburgh?--I mean about the house. We +can pay for it." + +"My dear, I hope to make him agree to that, and more too. So just let +the hay stand, and the house, and the barn, and everything else for the +present. I'll tell you time enough--if quarter day must come. And by +the way, talking of quarters, there's one of a lamb we killed +yesterday,--I told Tim to leave it in the kitchen. How does your ice +hold out?" + +"Do you want some, sir?" said Faith, in whose eyes there shone a soft +light the Squire could be at no loss to read. + +"No my dear, I don't--though Mrs. Stoutenburgh does tell me sometimes +to keep cool. But I thought maybe _you_ did. Do you know, Miss Essie De +Staff never sees me now if she can help it--what do you suppose is the +reason?" + +"I don't think there can be any, sir." + +"Must be!" said the Squire,--"always is a reason for every fact. You +know what friends we used to be,--it was always, 'Hush, Mr. +Stoutenburgh!' or, 'How do you know anything about it?' Ah, he's a +splendid fellow!--My dear, I don't wish to ask any impertinent +questions, but when you do hear that he's safe across, just let me +know--will you?" And the Squire bowed himself off without waiting for +an answer. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + + +Faith found that sewing and housework and butter-making took not only +her hands but her minutes, and on these little minute wheels the days +glided off very fast. She had plenty of fresh air, withal, for Mrs. +Stoutenburgh would coax her into a horseback ride, or the Squire take +her off in his little wagon; or Mrs. Derrick and Jerry go with her down +to the shore for clams and salt water. The sea breeze was more company +than usual, this summer. + +By the time August days came, there came also a letter from Europe; and +thereafter the despatches were as regular and as frequent as the +steamers. But they brought no special news as to the point of coming +home. Mrs. Iredell lingered on in the same uncertain state, neither +worse nor better,--there was no news to send. Everything else the +letters had; and though Faith might miss that, she could not complain. + +So the summer days slipped away peacefully; and when the mother and +daughter sat sewing together in the afternoon, (for Mrs. Derrick often +took some little skirt or sleeve) nobody would have guessed why the +needles were at work. + +There was one remarkable thing about the boy Reuben had found to supply +Mr. Skip's place--he was never visible. Nor audible either, for that +matter, except that Faith at her own early rising often heard the +wood-saw industriously in motion. He was not to sleep in the house for +the first month,--that had been agreed; but whether he slept anywhere +seemed a matter of doubt. A doubt Faith resolved to set at rest; and +one August morning, while the birds were a-twitter yet with their first +getting up and the sun had not neared the horizon, Faith crossed the +yard to the woodshed and stood in the open doorway,--the morning light +shewing the soft outlines of her figure in a dark print dress, and her +white ruffles, and gleaming on her faultlessly soft and bright hair. + +The woodshed was in twilight yet; its various contents shewing dimly, +the phoebe who had built her nest under the low roof just astir, but +the wood work was going on briskly. Not indeed under the saw--that lay +idle; but with the sort of noiseless celerity which was natural to him, +Reuben Taylor was piling the sticks of this or yesterday's cutting: the +slight chafing of the wood as it fell into place chiming with the low +notes of a hymn tune which Faith well remembered to have heard Mr. +Linden sing. She did not stir, but softly, as she stood there, her +voice joined in. + +For a minute Reuben did not hear her,--then in some pause of +arrangement he heard, and turned round with a start and flush that for +degree might have suited one who was stealing wood instead of piling +it. But he did not speak--nor even thought to say good morning; only +pushed the hair back from his forehead and waited to receive sentence. + +"Reuben!"--said Faith, stepping in the doorway. And she said not +another word; but in her eyes and her lips, even in her very attitude +as she stood before him, Reuben Taylor might read it all!--her +knowledge for whose love he was doing that work, her powerlessness of +any present means of thanks, and the existence of a joint treasury of +returned affection that would make itself known to him some day, if +ever the chance were. The morning sun gleamed in through the doorway on +her face, and Reuben could see it all there. He had raised his eyes at +the first sound of her voice, but they fell again, and his only answer +was a very low spoken "Good morning, Miss Faith." + +Faith sat down on a pile of cut sticks and looked up at him. + +"Reuben--what are you about?" + +"Putting these sticks out of the way, Miss Faith"--with a half laugh +then. + +"I shall tell Mr. Linden of you," (gravely.) + +"I didn't mean you should have a chance, Miss Faith." + +"Now you are caught and found--do you know what your punishment will +be?" + +Reuben looked up again, but did not venture to guess. + +"You will be obliged to come in and take a cup of coffee with me every +morning." + +"O that's not necessary!" Reuben said with a relieved face,--"thank you +very much, Miss Faith." + +"It is necessary," said Faith gravely;--"and you are not to thank me +for what you don't like." + +"It was partly for what I do like, ma'am," said Reuben softly pitching +up a stick of hickory. + +"It's so pleasant to have you do this, Reuben," said Faith, watching +him, "that I can't tell you how pleasant it is; but you must drink my +coffee, Reuben, or--I will not burn your wood! You know what Mr. Linden +would make you do, Reuben." Faith's voice lowered a little. Reuben did +not dispute the commands so urged, though a quick glance said that her +wish was enough. + +"But dear Reuben, who's coming when you're gone?" + +"Would you like Dromy Tuck, Miss Faith?--but I don't know that you ever +saw him. He's strong, and honest--he's not very bright. I'll find +somebody." And so the matter ended. + +August went on,--Reuben sawed his last stick of wood and eat his last +breakfast at Mrs. Derrick's, and then set forth for Quilipeak, to begin +his new life there. The little settlement at Quapaw was not alone in +feeling his loss,--Mrs. Derrick and Faith missed him every day. One of +Reuben's last doings in Pattaquasset, was the giving Dromy Tuck in +charge to Phil Davids. + +"Look after him a little, Phil," he said, "and see that he don't go to +sleep too much daytimes. He means to go straight, but he wants help +about it; and I don't want Mrs. Derrick to be bothered with him." Which +request, enforced as it was by private considerations, favoured Dromy +with as strict a censorship as he desired. + +From Germany news came at last,--but it was of the sort that one can +bear to wait for. Mrs. Iredell was not able to be moved nor certain to +get well. Mr. Linden could neither come with his sister nor from her. +And thus, hindered from getting home to his Seminary duties in America, +there was but one thing he could do--finish his course in a German +University. But that ensured his being in Europe the whole year! No +question now of fall or winter or spring,--summer was the first time +that could be even thought of; and in this fair September, when Faith +had been thinking of the possibility of his sudden appearance, he was +beginning his work anew in a foreign land. + +It came heavily at first upon her. Faith had not known how much she +counted on that hope or possibility. But now when it was gone she found +she had lost a large piece of her sunlight. She had read her letter +alone as usual, and alone she struggled with her sorrow. It cost Faith +for once a great many tears. Prayer was always her refuge. But at last +after the tears and the signs of them were gone, Faith went into her +mother's company again, looking wistful and as gentle and quiet. + +Perhaps it was well for Faith that her mother knew what this quiet +meant--it saved her countless little remarks of wonder and comment and +sorrow. More devoted to her Mrs. Derrick could not be, but she had her +own strong box of feeling, and there locked up all her sorrow and +anxiety out of sight. Yet it was some time before the little +sitting-room, with its scattered bits of work, could look bright again. + +"And I sha'n't see him again till----." It gave Faith a great pang. +That "next year" she never looked at much. She would have liked a +little more of those innocent play days which had been so unexpectedly +broken off. "Next year" looked serious, as well as glad. "But it is +good for me," she said to herself. "It must be good for me, to be +reminded to live on what cannot fail. I suppose I was getting to be too +very happy."--And after a few such talks with herself Faith went +straight on, for all that appeared, as peacefully as ever, and as +cheerfully. + +It was not long after this, that passing Mr. Simlins' gate one +afternoon, as she was coming home from a walk, Faith was hailed by the +farmer. She could not but stop to speak to him, and then she could not +prevent his carrying her off into the house. + +"'Twont hurt you to rest a minute--and 'twont hurt _me_," said he. "Why +I haint seen you since----How long do you s'pose folks can live and not +see moonshine? Now you pull off your bonnet, and I'll tell Mrs. Hummins +to give us something good for tea." + + +"What would mother do for hers, Mr. Simlins?" said Faith resisting this +invitation. + +"Well you can sit down anyhow, and read to me," said Mr. Simlins, who +had already taken a seat himself in preparation for it. "People can't +get along without light from one phenomenon or the other, you know, +Faith." + +She took off her bonnet, and brought the Bible. "What do you want, Mr. +Simlins?" her sweet voice said meaningly. + +"Fact is," said the farmer rather sorrowfully, "I s'pose I want about +everything! I don't feel to know much more'n a baby--and there aint +more'n three grains of corn to the bushel in our minister's preachin'. +I go to meetin' and come home with my head a little more like a bell +than 'twas; for there's nothing more in it but a ringin' of the words +I've heerd. Do you mind, Faith, when somebody--I don't know whether you +or I like him best--wanted me to try a new kind of farming?--you mind +it? I guess you do. It never went out o' _my_ head again, till I set +out to try;--and now I find I don't know nothin' at all how to work it!" + +"What is the trouble, dear Mr. Simlins?" said Faith looking up. + +The farmer hesitated, then said low and huskily, "I don't know what to +do about joinin' the church." + +"The Bible says, 'If a man love God, the same is known of him,'"--Faith +answered softly. + +"Well, but can't it be known of him without that? Fact is, Faith, I'm +afeard!"--and a rough hand was drawn across the farmer's eyes--"I'm +afeard, if I do, I'll do something I hadn't ought to do, and so only +just dishonour the profession--and I'd better not have anything to do +with it!" + +Faith turned back the leaves of the Bible. + +"Listen to what God said to Joshua, Mr. Simlins, when he was going to +lead the people of Israel over into a land full of enemies.-- + +'Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not +afraid, neither be thou dismayed.'" + + +"It's easy to say 'be strong'," said the farmer after pausing a +minute,--"but how are you going to contrive it?" + +Faith read from the Psalms; and her words fell sweeter every one. "'In +the day when I cried thou answeredst me, and strengthenedst me with +strength in my soul.' That is what David says, Mr. Simlins; and this is +Isaiah's testimony.--'They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their +strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and +not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.'" + +"Go ahead, Faith!"--said the farmer, who was sitting with his head down +in his hands. "You aint leavin' me much of a corner to hide in. Turn +down a leaf at them places." + +Faith was still again, turning over leaves. + +"Paul was in trouble once, Mr. Simlins, and prayed earnestly about +something; and this is what he says of the Lord's answer to him.--'And +he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is +made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in +my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.'--'When I am +weak, then am I strong.'--And in another place--'I can do all things +through Christ which strengtheneth me.'" + +"But he wa'n't much like me," said Mr. Simlins "he was an apostle and +had inspiration. I hain't none." + +"He was a man, though," said Faith, "and a weak one, as you see he +calls himself. And he prays for the Christians at Ephesus, that God +would grant them 'to be strengthened with might by his Spirit;' and +they were common people. And the Bible says 'Be strong in the Lord and +in the power of his might;'--we aren't bid to be strong in ourselves; +but here again, 'Strengthened with might, according to his glorious +power, unto all patience and long-suffering with joyfulness.' Won't +that do?" said Faith softly. + +"Have you put marks in all them places?" said the farmer. + +"I will." + +"If that don't do, I s'pose nothing will," said Mr. Simlins. "They're +mighty words! And they've stopped _my_ mouth." + +Faith was silently marking the places. The farmer sat looking at her. + +"You do know the Scripturs--I can say that for you!" he remarked. + +"No, Mr. Simlins!--" said Faith looking up suddenly, "I don't know this +string of passages of myself. Mr. Linden shewed them to me," she said +more softly and blushing. She went on with what she was about. + +"Well don't he say you like to speak truth rayther than anything else?" +said the farmer. "If he don't, I wouldn't give much for his discretion. +When's he going to have leave to take you away, Faith?" It was half +sorrowfully spoken, and though Faith rose up and blushed, she did not +answer him quickly. + +"My business must take me away now, sir;--good night." + +But Mr. Simlins shouted to Jem Waters, had the wagon up, put Faith in +with infinite care and tenderness, and sent her home so. + +One rainy, stormy, wild equinoctial day in the end of September--not +long after that letter had come, Squire Stoutenburgh came to the door. +Faith heard him parleying with her mother for a minute--heard him go +off, and then Mrs. Derrick entered the sitting-room, with her eyes full +of tears and her heart, at least, full of a little package,--it did not +quite fill her hands. + +"Pretty child!" she said, "I'm so thankful!"--and she went straight off +to the kitchen, and the little package lay in Faith's lap. The thick +brown paper and wax and twine said it had come a long way. The rest the +address told. It was a little square box, the opening of which revealed +at first only soft cotton; except, in one corner, there was an +indication of Faith's infallible blue ribband. Fastened to that, was a +gold locket. Quite plain, alike on both sides, the tiny hinge at one +edge spoke of a corresponding spring. That touched, Faith found Mr. +Linden. Admirably well done and like, even to the expression, which had +probably struck the artist's fancy; for he had contrived to represent +well both the pleasure and the pain Mr. Linden had felt in sitting for +this picture, for such a reason. The dress was that of the German +students--such as he was then wearing. + +Faith had never guessed--till her wondering fingers had persuaded the +locket to open--she had never guessed what she should find there; at +the utmost she looked to find a lock of hair; and the joy was almost as +overwhelming as a little while ago pain had been. Faith could hardly +see the picture for a long time; she called herself foolish, but she +cried and laughed the harder for joy; she reproached herself for past +ungratefulness and motions of discontent, which made her not deserve +this treasure; and the joy and the tears were but enhanced that way. +Faith could hardly believe her eyes, when they were clear enough to +see; it seemed,--what they looked at,--too good to be true; too +precious to be hers. But at last she was fain to believe it; and with +blushes that nobody saw, and a tiny smile that it was a pity somebody +_didn't_ see, she put the blue ribband round her neck and hid the +locket where she knew it was expected to find its place. But Faith +forgot her work, and her mother found her sitting there doing nothing, +looking with dreamy happy thoughtfulness into distance, or into +herself; all Miss Bezac's silks and stuffs neglected around her. + +And work, diligent, happy, contented, continued, was the order of the +day, and of many days and weeks after. Miss Bezac giving out that she +would take as much work as was offered her, she and Faith soon had both +their hands completely full. The taste and skill of the little +dressmaker were so well acknowledged that even from Pequot there was +now many an application for her services; and many a lady from there +and from Pattaquasset, came driven in a wagon or a sleigh to Miss +Bezac's cottage door. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + + +It was the month + + "When beechen buds begin to swell, + And woods the blue bird's warble know,"-- + +the month of the unbending of Nature--of softening skies and swelling +streams and much underground spring work. As for instance, by the +daffodils; which by some unknown machinery pushed their soft, pliant +leaves up through frozen clods into the sunshine. Blue birds fluttered +their wings and trilled their voices through the air, song sparrows +sang from morning to night, and waxwings whistled for cherries in the +bare tree tops. There the wind whistled too, "whiles," with the fall +approbation of snow birds and chickadees,--the three going out of +fashion together. + +It was a busy month at Miss Bezac's--two weddings at Pequot and one in +Pattaquasset kept her hands full,--and Faith's too. Just now the great +point of interest was the outfit of Miss Maria Davids--the wedding +dress, especially, being of the most complicate and ornamented +description. Miss Bezac and Faith needed their heads as well as their +hands, Miss Maria's directions with regard to flowers and furbelows +being somewhat like the Vicar of Wakefield's in respect of sheep--only +Miss Maria was willing to pay for all that went on, whereas the Vicar +wanted the sheep for nothing. + +Thus they stood, the two friends and co-workers, with the dress spread +out on a table, contriving where the flowers should go and how many it +would be possible to put on. Miss Maria's box of Pequot flowers on a +chair near by, was as full as her directions. + +"It would be better to take the box and turn it right over her after +she's dressed, and let 'em stick where they would!" said Miss Bezac in +some disgust. Whereupon, dropping her grave look of thought, Faith's +laugh broke up the monotony of the occasion. + +"Well _that's_ good any way," said Miss Bezac. "And I'm sure +everything's 'any way' about this dress. But I won't have you about it +a bit longer,--you're tired to death standing up." + +"I'm not much tired. Miss Bezac, let the lilacs have the bottom of the +dress, and the roses and lilies of the valley trim the body.--And it +will be like a spotted flower-garden then!" said Faith laughing anew. + +How little like her occupation she looked,--with her brown stuff dress, +to be sure, as plain as possible; her soft brown hair also plain; her +quaint little white ruffles; and that brilliant diamond ring flashing +wherever her hand went! N.B. A plain dress on a pretty person has not +the effect of plainness, since it lets that better be seen which is the +highest beauty. + +Up Miss Bezac's mountain road came a green coach drawn by two fat grey +horses; the coachman in front and the footman behind being in the same +state of plethoric comfort. They addressed themselves to the hill with +no hasty approbation yet with much mind to have their own way, and the +hill yielded the ground step by step. At Miss Bezac's door hill and +horses made a pause. + +"Coaches already!" said Miss Bezac,--"that's a sign of summer, as good +as wild geese. And you'd think, Faith, not having had much experience, +that it was the sign of another wedding dress--but nothing worse than a +calico wrapper ever comes out of a coach like that." + +"Why?"--said Faith looking amused. + +"The people that drive such coaches drive 'em to town for a wedding +dress," said Miss Bezac sagely. "There's a blue bird getting out of +this one, to begin with." + +While she spoke, a tiny foot emerged from the coach, and after it a +dress of blue silk, which so far from "standing alone" followed softly +every motion of the wearer. A simply plain shirred spring bonnet of +blue and white silk, made the blue bird comparison not altogether +unapt,--the bird was hardly more fair and dainty in his way than the +lady in hers. She stood still for a minute, shading her eyes with her +hand, and looking off down the road; a slight, delicate figure, with +that sort of airy grace which has a natural poise for every +position,--then she turned abruptly and knocked at the door. + +Now it was Miss Bezac's custom to let applicants open and shut for +themselves, her hands being often at a critical point of work; so in +this case, with a refractory flower half adjusted--while Faith was in +the intricacies of a knot of ribband, she merely cried, "Come in!" And +the young lady came--so far as across the threshold,--there she +stopped. A quick, sudden stop,--one little ungloved hand that looked as +if it had never touched anything harsher than satin, clasped close upon +its gloved companion; the shawl falling from her shoulders and shewing +the bunch of crocuses in her belt; the fair, sweet, high bred +face--sparkling, withal flushing like a June rose. For a minute she +stood, her bright eyes seeing the room, the work, and Miss Bezac, but +resting on Faith with a sort of intenseness of look that went from face +to hand. Then her own eyes fell, and with a courteous inclination of +her head, she came for ward and spoke. + +"I was told," she said, advancing slowly to the table, and still with +downcast eyes,--"I was told that--I mean--Can you make a sunbonnet for +me, Miss Bezac?" She looked up then, but only at the little dressmaker, +laying one hand on the table as if to support herself, and with a face +grave enough to suit a nun's veil instead of a sunbonnet. + +Faith's eyes were held on this delicate little figure with a sort of +charm; she was very unlike the Pattaquasset models. At the antipodes +from Miss Essie De Staff--etherial compared to the more solid +proprieties of Sophy Harrison,--Faith recognized in her the type of +another class of creatures. She drew back a little from the table, +partly to leave the field clear to Miss Bezac, partly to please herself +with a better view. + +"A sunbonnet?" Miss Bezac repeated,--"I should be sorry if I couldn't, +and badly off too. But I'm afraid you'll be, for a pattern,--all I've +got are as common as grass. Not that I wish grass was uncommon, +either--but what's the stuff?" + +"When I came out this morning," said the lady, glancing at Faith and +then down again, "I did not expect to come here. And--I have brought no +stuff. Can you send some one down to the village?--this young lady, +perhaps.--May I take her with me now?" + +"Why of course you may!" said Miss Bezac delightedly.--"Just as much as +if I was glad to get rid of her--which I aint,--and am too,--for she's +tired to death, and I was just wishing somebody that wasn't would take +her home. Or some horses." + +There was a sweet amused play of the lips in answer to this lucid +statement of facts, and then turning towards Faith, the stranger said, +"Will you go?"--the words were in the lowest of sweet tones. + +"Where do you wish me to go?" said Faith, coming a step forward. + +"With me--down into the village." + +"I will go," said Faith. "Then I will take these two mantillas, Miss +Bezac,--and you shall have them the day after to-morrow." + +The straw bonnet and shawl were put on in another minute, and not +waiting for her gloves she followed the "blue bird" to the carriage, +rather pleased with the adventure. + +The little ungloved hand took firm hold of hers as they stepped out of +Miss Bezac's door, and but that the idea was absurd Faith would have +thought it was trembling. Once in the carriage, the two side by side on +the soft cushions, the orders given to the footman, the coach rolling +smoothly down the hill, the stranger turned her eyes full upon Faith; +until the tears came too fast, quenching the quivering smile on her +lips. Her head dropped on Faith's shoulder, with a little cry of, +"Faith, do you know who I am?" + +A sort of whirlwind of thoughts swept over Faith--nothing definite; and +her answer was a doubtful, rather troubled, "No."-- + +"I know who you are!" said the stranger. "You are Mignonette." + +"Who told you so?" said Faith, drawing back from her to look. + +"Some one who knew!"--the face was lovely in its April of mischief and +tears. + +Faith's face grew very grave, with doubt, and bewilderment, and growing +certainty, and drew yet further off. Rosy blushes, more and more +witchingly shy, chased in and out of her cheeks; till obeying the +certainty which yet was vague, Faith's head stooped and her two hands +covered her face. She was drawn back into the stranger's arms, and her +hands and face (what there could) were covered with kisses. + +"Faith, is it strange your sister should know?--and why don't you let +me have the rest of your face to kiss?--I haven't half seen it yet. And +I'm sure Endy would not like to have his message delivered in these out +of the way places." + +Even as she spoke, the hands quitted the face, veiled only by the +rosiest consciousness; and laying both hands on the stranger Faith gave +her warm kisses--on cheeks and lips; and then looked at her, with eyes +alternately eager and shy, that rose and fell at every new stir of +feeling. + +"How did you come here?"--she said with a sort of soft breathlessness. +The eyes that looked at her were as intent, a little laughing, a little +moved. + +"How did I come here?--Faith, I knew you at the first glance,--how came +you not to know me?" + +"I--could not!" said Faith. "How came you here?" + +"Here? in Pattaquasset--how I love the name! Faith, I shall expect you +to take me to every place where Endecott set his foot when he was here." + +Faith's eye gave a little answering flash. "I don't believe I know them +all. Then--" she checked herself--"But how did you come here? You--were +in Germany." + +"Then what?--please answer me first." + +How Faith blushed!--and laughed; but she grew very grave almost +immediately. + +"Please answer me!" she said. + +"Yes, I was there--and I could not help coming here," Miss Linden +answered. "To leave him there, after all! But I could not help it, +Faith. When he determined to spend the year there--and I never saw him +look so grave over a determination--it was for one reason alone. You +know what?" + +Faith did not assent nor dissent, but her eyes were swallowing every +word. + +"It seemed then as if it might not much lengthen his absence, and would +ensure its being the last. And by-the-by, fair ladye, Endecott said I +might make the most of you before he got home; for _then_ he meant to +have you all to himself for six months, and nobody else should have a +sight of you." + +As far as they could go, Faith's eyes fell; and her new sister might +study the fair face and figure she had not had so good an opportunity +of studying before. Perfectly grave, and still to her folded hands. + +"After he was fairly launched in his work," Miss Linden went on, "Aunt +Iredell began slowly to grow better; and as the winter passed she took +the most earnest desire to come home--to America. Nothing could shake +it; and the doctors approved and urged that there should be no delay. +Then, Faith, _I_ would have stayed,--but she was exceedingly dependent +upon me, and most of all, Endecott said I ought to come. I believe he +was glad to think of my being here for another reason. He came with us +to Paris--it happened just then that he _could come_--and put us on +board the steamer. But we were three days in Paris first,--O such +pretty days!" she added smiling. "I'll tell you about them another +time." + +The downcast eyes were lifted and rested for a minute on the sparkling +face before them. If a little warm light in their glance meant that all +was "pretty" about which those two had to do, it said part at least of +what was in Faith's mind. + +"Now I am to be your neighbour for a while," said Miss Linden. "Aunt +Iredell was ordered out of town at once, and last night we came up to +Pequot,--so you must not wonder if you see me every other day after +this. O how good it is to see you! Do you know," she said, wrapping her +arms round Faith again, and resting the soft cheeks and lips upon hers, +"do you know how much I have to say of this sort, for somebody else?" + +"You are not going back to Pequot to-day?" said Faith softly. + +"May I stay in Pattaquasset till to-morrow?" + +"If I can take good enough care of you!" said Faith, kissing her half +gladly, half timidly. + +"And may I go home with you now?" + +"Where are we going?" said Faith looking out. + +"My dear, you ought to know! but I do not. I told them to drive about +till I gave contrary orders. Now you must give them." And the check +string brought the horses to a stand and the footman ditto. A half +minute's observation enabled Faith to give directions for reaching the +main Pattaquasset road and taking the right turn, and the carriage +rolled on again. There was a little pause then, till Faith broke it. A +rich preparatory colour rose in her cheeks, and the subject of her +words would certainly have laughed to see how gravely, with what +commonplace demureness, the question was put. + +"Was Mr. Linden well, when you came from Germany?" + +"Faith!" was his sister's prompt reply. Faith's glance, soft and +blushing, yet demanded reason. Whereupon Miss Linden's face went into a +depth of demureness that was wonderful. "Yes my dear, Mr. Linden was +well--looking well too, which is an uncommon thing with him." + +"Is it?"--said Faith somewhat wistfully. + +"Not in the way I mean," said her new sister smiling,--"I thought +nothing could have improved his appearance but--Mignonette. And I +suppose he thought so himself, for he was never seen without a sprig of +the little flowers." + +Faith's look in answer to that was given to nothing but the ground, and +indeed it was worthy to have been seen by only one person. + +"Faith," said Miss Linden suddenly, "are there many French people in +Pattaquasset?" + +"No,--not any. Why?" + +"Because Endecott gave me a message to you, part of which I did not +understand. But I suppose you will, and that is enough." + +"What is it?" said Faith eagerly. + +"You would not understand the other part, to-day." + +Faith went back to her thoughtfulness But as the carriage turned into +the Pattaquasset high street she suddenly faced round on Miss Linden, +flushing again before she spoke. + +"Pet," she said a little timidly--it was winning, this air of timidity +that was about her,--"don't say--don't tell Mr. Linden where you found +me." + +"Faith! does he not know? is it something new? O dear child, I am very +sorry!"--and Miss Linden's other hand came caressingly upon the one she +held. + +"Don't be sorry!--" said Faith, looking as fearless and sonsy as any +real piece of mignonette that ever shook its brown head in the +wind;--"I wouldn't tell you, only you must see it. You know, perhaps, +that mother lived by a farm.--Last summer the farm was taken away and +we had nothing left but the house. We had to do something, and I took +to dressmaking with Miss Bezac--where you found me. And it has been +very pleasant and has done very well," said Faith, smiling at Miss +Linden as honestly as if the matter had been of music lessons or any +other accomplishment. Miss Linden looked at her--grave and bright too. +Then with a sparkle of her eyes--"I won't tell Endecott now, but some +time I _will_ tell him over what sort of a wedding-dress I found you +poring. But my dear child!--" and she stopped with a look of sudden +thought that was both grave and gay. Faith's eyes asked what the matter +was. + +"No, I will not tell him now," Miss Linden repeated,--"it is so little +while--he could not know it in time for anything but his own sorrow. +But Faith! I am going to make one of those mantillas!"--and she looked +a pretty piece of defiant resolution. + +"You shall do what you please," Faith said gayly. "But--will you stop +them?--there is the house." + +The coach came to a stand before Mrs. Derrick's little gate and the two +ladies alighted. Miss Linden had been looking eagerly out as they drove +up--at the house, the fence, the little garden courtyard, the +steps,--but she turned now to give her orders, and taking Faith's hand +again, followed her in, looking at every inch of the way. Faith drew +the easy-chair out before the fire, put Miss Linden in it, and took off +her bonnet and shawl. She staid but to find her mother and introduce +her to the parlour and her guest; and she herself ran away to Mr. +Linden's room. She knew that the brown woodbox was near full of wood +which had been there since his sudden departure nine months ago. It was +well dried by this time. Faith built a fire and kindled it; made the +bed, and supplied water and towels; opened the blinds of one or two +windows, laid books on the table, and wheeled up the couch. The fire +was blazing by that time and shone warm and glowingly on the dark wood +and furniture, and everything wore the old pleasant look of comfort and +prettiness. Then Faith went for her guest. + +"You will know where you are," she said a little vaguely,--"when you +open the cupboard doors." + +Miss Linden stood still for a moment, her hands folded, her lips again +taking their mixed expression. + +"And _that_ is where he lay for so long," she said. It was a mixed +remembrance to Faith; she did not like to answer. A moment's silence, +and she turned her bright face to Miss Linden. + +"Let me do what I can for you," she said with that mixture of grace and +timidity.--"It isn't much. What may I now, Pet?" + +"You did a lifetime's work then, you dear child!--and how I used to +hear of it." And putting her arm round Faith's waist Miss Linden began +to go slowly about the room, looking at everything--out of the windows +and into the cupboards. "If you could have known, Faith--if you could +have seen Endecott in some of the years before that, you would have +known a little how very, very glad I was. I hardly believed that he +would ever find any one who could charm him out of the solitary life +into which sorrow had led him." + +"I didn't do it!" said Faith simply. + +"What do you suppose did?" + +"I think he charmed himself out of it,"--Faith said blushing. + +Miss Linden laughed, holding her very fast. "You are clear from all +charge of malice prepense," she said. "And I will not deny his powers +of charming,--but they are powerless upon himself." + +"Do you think so?" said Faith. "A charm comes at the rebound, doesn't +it sometimes?" + +"_Does_ it? How do I know?" + +Faith laughed a little, but very softly. "Now shall I leave you for a +little while?" she said. + +"Will you be busy, or may I come down when I like?" + +"I am going into the kitchen,--You wouldn't like to follow me there?" + +"If I have leave--I am in the mind to follow you everywhere." + +"Come then!" said Faith joyously. + +Miss Linden might not be accustomed to seeing kitchens, or she might! +there was no telling from her manner. Certainly that kitchen was a +pleasant one to see. And she "followed," as she had said, wherever +Faith went and watched her whatever she did, conversation going on +meanwhile amusingly enough. Faith was making some cakes again; and then +concocting coffee, the Pattaquasset fête dish in ordinary; while Mrs. +Derrick broiled the chicken. With a great white apron enveloping her +brown stuff dress, and her arms bared, running about the kitchen and +dairy in her quick still way, Faith was a pretty contrast to the "blue +bird" who smiled on her and followed her and talked to her throughout. +Then the cakes were baking, and Faith came back to the sitting-room; to +set the table and cover it with all dainty things that farm materials +can produce. And if ever "Pet" had been affectionately served, she was +that night, and if ever a room was fresh and sweet and warm and +glowing, the fire-lit room where she went to sleep afterwards was such +a one. + +But before that, when they had done tea, and talk and motion had +subsided a little, Miss Linden brought a low seat to Faith's side, and +taking that left hand in hers looked silently at the ring for a few +minutes,--then laid her cheek down upon it in Faith's lap. Faith's lip +trembled; but she only sat still as a statue till the cheek was lifted +up. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + + + +In the early morning which Faith and her mother enjoyed next day +together, Mrs. Derrick was in a contemplative and abstracted state of +mind; assenting indeed to all Faith's words of pleasure and praise, but +evidently thinking of something else. At last the matter came out. + +"Faith, how much money have we?--I mean, to last how long, suppose you +didn't do anything else but the butter?" + +"Why, mother?" + +"Why child, I've been thinking--do you know how much you've got to do +for yourself?--it won't do to put that off for Miss Bezac." + +Faith's lips softly touched Mrs. Derrick's. + +"Hush, mother, please!--Don't you think Dromy could find some +water-cress at the foot of the Savin hill?" + +"Yes--like enough," said Mrs. Derrick,--"Reuben could if he was here. +And child, you may say 'hush,' but things won't hush, after all." With +which sentiment Mrs. Derrick gave attention to the tea-kettle, just +then a practical illustration of her remark. + +About as bright and fresh and sweet as the morning Miss Linden looked +when she came down, but warmer and gentler than March in his best mood. +Her interest in everything about the house and its two tenants was +unbounded, and without being really like her brother, there was enough +family likeness in manner and voice to give a pleasant reminder now and +then. While they were at breakfast the man came from Pequot according +to order, but she went out alone to attend to him, coming back to the +table with a sort of gleeful face that spoke of pleasure or mischief in +prospect. + +"Faith," she said, "we cannot touch those mantillas this morning." + +"Can't we?" said Faith. "Which part of Pattaquasset shall we go to see?" + +"Suppose we go up to my room and discuss matters."-- + +Faith was ready. Ready as a child, or as the "bird" she used to be +called, for any innocent play or work. + +"My dear little sister," said Miss Linden as they ran up stairs, the +glee working out at the dainty finger ends that were on Faith's belt, +"don't you know that I promised you a 'message'? and don't you want to +have it?--O how lovely this room is! That trunk is not lovely, standing +just there. Dear Faith, you need not think all my baggage is coming +after it!" + +"I wish it could,"--said Faith, looking after her "message." + +"I want to shew you the key of this--it has something peculiar about +it," said Miss Linden searching in her bag. "Endecott said, Faith, that +as you and he had been together so much in a French atmosphere, you +must let him do one thing in the French style. To which message, as +well as to the trunk, you will find this the key." + +Now attached to the key was a little card, on which was written simply +the word, "Trousseau." + +Faith understood the word well enough, and it seemed to turn her into a +pretty petrifaction--with internal life at work indeed, as the rising +and falling colours witnessed. She stood with bended head looking at +the mysterious key; then making a swift transit to the window she +opened it and threw back the blinds and stood looking out, the key in +one hand giving little impatient or abstracted taps against the fingers +of the other. It was a pretty landscape certainly, but Faith had looked +at it often before. + +Miss Linden on her part followed Faith to the window with her eyes and +a smile, then sat looking at the great leathern trunk in its travelling +cover, which it wore still. Once she made a motion to take this +off--then laid her hands back in their former position and waited for +Faith to come. + +"Pet," said Faith presently,--"have you looked out of the window this +morning?" Which question brought two hands round her shoulders in no +time. + +"Yes my dear, I have. What new beauties have you discovered?" + +"It looks pretty in the spring light.--But I wasn't thinking of it, +either," said Faith blushing. And without raising her eyes, looking +distressed, she softly insinuated the key with its talismanic card back +into Miss Linden's hand. + +"Well? what, dear Faith?" + +"I don't know,"--said Faith softly. "You know." + +"I know,"--said Miss Linden, "that Endecott locked the trunk and tied +the label to the key, and it is a great mistake to suppose that I will +unlock the one or take charge of the other. In the second place, I need +not even look on unless you wish. It can go to another room, or I will +leave you in undisturbed possession of this. So speak," she said, +kissing her. + +Faith did not immediately. She wound her arms round her new sister and +hid her face in Miss Linden's neck, and stood so clasping her silently +for a few minutes. But when she raised her head she went straight to +the "trousseau" trunk; pulled off, business fashion, the travelling +cover; set the key in the lock, and lifted the lid. + +"I should tell you, dear," said Miss Linden while this was doing--she +had seated herself a little way off from Faith and the trunk, "I should +tell you, that if it had been possible to get a pattern dress and so +forth, you would have found nothing here to do _but_ look. As it is, +there is some work for your fingers, and I hope for mine." The lid was +now open, and between the two next protecting covers lay a letter. A +recognizing flash of eye greeted that; Faith put it out of sight and +lifted the second cover. From where she sat Miss Linden could see her +hand tremble. + +There were two or three characteristics that applied to the whole +arrangement, choice, and filling of the "trousseau." The absence of +things useless was not more notable than the abundance of things +useful; and let not useful be understood to mean needful,--for of the +little extras which are so specially pleasant to those who never buy +them for themselves, there was also a full supply. The daintiness of +everything was great, but nothing was out of Faith's line: the stuffs +might be finer than she had always worn, but the colours were what she +had always liked, and in any one of those many dresses she might feel +at home in five minutes--they suited her so well. She could see, well +enough, that Mr. Linden not only remembered "her style" but loved +it,--in the very top rack, that was first laid open, she had proof of +this--for besides the finest of lawn and cambric, there were dainty +bands of embroidery and pieces of lace with which Faith could ruffle +herself to her heart's content. + +At this point Faith drew a rather quick breath. She was on her knees +before the trunk, and shielding her face a little from Miss Linden, she +sat looking in--steadfastly at bits of French needlework and lappings +of the daintier texture, lifting now and then, also daintily--the end +or fold of something to see what lay underneath. There was so much food +for meditation, as well as for industry, in this department, that Faith +seemed not likely to get through it. How clearly she saw any one thing +might be doubted. She made no progress. + +"You may see Endecott in everything, Faith," said Miss Linden. "In the +matter of quantity I could sometimes give him help, but every colour +and style had to be matched with the particular pattern in his mind. I +wish you could have seen it!--it was one of the prettiest things I ever +saw. Those three days in Paris!--I told you they were pretty days." + +Faith gave her a swift look, very flushed and very grave. A pretty +picture of wonder and humility she was; and something more was borne +witness to by those soft eyes, but Miss Linden had only a second's look +of them. + +The racks seemed to hold the light varieties, each done up by itself. +There was the little French parasol in its box; the fan box, with most +pretty contents. There was the glove box, beautifully filled, and +holding among the rest the prettiest of riding gauntlets--all of just +the right size, by some means. At the other end to keep this in +countenance, was a little French riding hat in its own pasteboard +container. The riding whip Mr. Linden had given her long before. There +were stockings in pretty variety; and handkerchiefs--not laced and +embroidered, but of fine material and dainty borders. The various minor +things were too many to mention. + +Faith was in an overwhelmed state, though she hardly shewed that. Her +fingers made acquaintance almost fearfully with the various items that +lay in sight; finally she laid both hands upon the edge of the rack. + +"It is exactly like him!--" she said in profound gravity. His sister +laughed--a gay, pleased little laugh. + +"_He_ said they were all like you, Faith. His fear of touching your +individuality was comical. Do you know he says he shall expect you +always to have a brown merino?--so you will find one there." + +But first, at the bottom of the rack, under all the others, was the +flat mantilla box; and its contents of muslin and silk, in their +elegant simpleness, left Miss Bezac's "nowhere". How Faith would have +liked to shut up the trunk then and run away--nobody knew! For she only +quietly lifted out the rack and took the view of what came next. It was +not the brown merino!--it was something made up,--the gayest, +prettiest, jauntiest dressing gown; with bunches of tiny carnations all +over it, as bright as Faith's own. Though that be saying much, for at +this hers reached their acme. + +"How beautiful--" she said gravely, while her poor fluttering thoughts +were saying everything else. "How perfectly beautiful!--" + +And as delicately as if it had been made of silver tissue, Faith laid +it off on the rack. Laid it off to find the next stagc in the shape of +morning wrappers, also made up. "They fit so loosely at best--" Miss +Linden explained,--"and Endecott knew your height." + +Now neither in these nor in what lay beneath was there such profusion +as would furnish a new dress every day (for an indefinite number) at a +watering place; but there was just such as befitted a young lady, who +being married in summer-days yet looked forward to winter, and was to +be the delight of somebody's eyes summer and winter. + +They were downcast and wonderfully soft eyes that looked at those +morning dresses now,--as Miss Linden could see when by chance they were +lifted. But that was not generally; with lowered eyelids and unsteady +lips Faith went on taking out one after the other. Below, the packages +were more solid and compact, some close at both ends, others shewing +shawl fringes. Dress after dress lay in close order--muslin and silk +and stuff; under them pieces of linen and flannel such as Pattaquasset +could hardly have furnished. One particular parcel, long and soft, was +tied with white ribband. Faith looked at it doubtfully. + +"Must I open this, Pet?" + +"It is tied up for that express purpose." + +A little suspicious of each new thing, Faith pulled the easy knot of +white ribband and uncovered what lay within. It was a white embroidered +muslin, fine and beautiful in its clear texture, as was the wrought +tracery upon it. No colour relieved this white field,--a pair of snowy +gloves lay upon it, with the lace and sash for its finish of adornment; +with them a folded handkerchief, plain like the rest but particularly +fine. Separately wrapped up in soft paper that but half hid them, were +the little rosetted slippers. + +"He said you must have none but real flowers," Miss Linden said--too +softly to call for a look in answer. + +That dress was what not even Miss Bezac had been able to make Faith +look at in imagination--and there it lay before her! Perhaps, to tell +the truth, she had been hardly willing to realize to herself the future +necessity of such a thing. The blood came deeper to her cheeks, then +left them in another moment pale. Faith laid her face in her hands on +the edge of the trunk,--for once overcome. Again Miss Linden's quick +impulse was to come to Faith's side, and again she checked herself; +thinking perhaps that she was too new a friend to have her words +pleasant just then--feeling that there was but one person who _could_ +say what ought to be said. So she sat quite still, nor even turned her +eyes towards Faith except now and then in a quick glance of sympathy +and interest; both which were shewn in her folded hands and averted +head. But very soon Faith was softly doing the parcel up again in its +white ribbands; and then she began to lay the things back in the trunk, +with quick hands but dainty. Half way through, Faith suddenly stopped. + +"Shall I put these back here for the present?"--she said, looking +towards Miss Linden. + +"For the present, dear?--I am not sure that I understand." + +"Just now--till I can arrange some other place to put them." + +"I have nothing to do with 'this place'," said Miss Linden +smiling,--"it came with my trunks, that is all." + +Faith coloured again and went on with what she was doing. Miss Linden +watched her. + +"Faith," she said, "don't finish that work just now,--sit still there +and read Endy's letter--won't you, darling? I am going down to pay your +mother a visit." And with a kiss and embrace she was gone. + +Faith's hands stopped their work as the door closed, and she sat still, +looking at the voiceless messages of love, care, thought, and +anticipation, which surrounded her. Looking dreamily, and a little +oppressed; and when she moved her hand it was not first to get her +letter, but to draw out the locket from her bosom and see Mr. Linden's +face; as if she wanted his look to authenticate all these messages, or +to meet her own heart's answer. At any rate it was not till after a +good study of the little picture that Faith put it away and took out +her letter. + +It was not _just_ like having him there to talk or caress away her +discomfort--and yet it was like it, though the pages were well on their +way before the trousseau was even alluded to. But the words, the +atmosphere of the letter made Faith breathe easier,--it was like the +wand of the Fairy Order, smoothing out the little tangled skeins of +silk. And when that subject came up, it was touched so lightly, so +delicately, yet with such evident pleasure,--there was such mingling of +play and earnest in the charge given her to be ready before he came, +and such a strong wish that he could have saved her all the work,--the +terror of the trousseau could not stand before it. And at the hope that +her taste would be suited, Faith's heart made a spring the other way. +She drank in every word of the letter; and then feeling healed, though +tender-spirited yet, she finished putting away her riches and went down +stairs. + +Mrs. Derrick having gone off to attend to dinner preparations, Miss +Linden sat alone, singing to herself softly in company with the March +wind and the fire, and (of all things!) at work upon one of Miss +Bezac's mantillas. Faith's two hands were laid upon the one which held +the needle. "Not to-day--" said the silver voice which Miss Linden must +learn to know. + +"Yes--unless you'll give me somewhat else to do!" she said leaning her +sunshiny head back against Faith. "I was out of patience with myself +because I could not do what no one but Endecott could--so in my woman's +pride I took up something which he couldn't. What are _you_ going to +do, darling?" + +Faith thought she knew why she was called "Pet"--but she only kissed +her. "I shall have to ask you a great deal about those things up +stairs," she said;--"but to-day I want to see you What would you like?" + +The thing Miss Linden liked best, was to see some of her brother's old +haunts; and a notable drive the two had that afternoon. Wherein, under +the light of a Spring day, Miss Linden saw Pattaquasset, the Quapaw +people, (part of them) and not least of all, Faith herself, who shewed +herself very much as the Spring day. And of Mr. Linden his sister +talked the while, to her heart's content, and Faith's--in the full joy +of that affection which can never say enough, speaking to that which +can never hear too much. + +It would be long to tell how the trousseau was made up. Mrs. Iredell +came from Pequot and established herself in a farmhouse at +Pattaquasset; and the two future sisters put their heads and their +hands--a good deal of their hearts too--into the work that was done in +Faith's blue-wainscotted white room. There they sat and sewed, day +after day; while the days grew warm, and the apple blossoms burst, and +the robins whistled. They whistled of Mr. Linden's coming home, to +Faith, and sent her needle with a quicker impulse. She never spoke of +it. + +But Miss Linden knew whither the look went, that seemed to go no +further than the apple trees; and what was the pressure that made a +quick breath now and then and a hurried finger. Perhaps her own pulses +began to move with accelerated beat. And when towards the end of May +Mrs. Iredell found business occasion for being in Quilipeak a +fortnight, Pet so urged upon Mrs. Derrick the advantages of the scheme, +that she carried off Faith with her. It would break the waiting and +watching, and act as a diversion, she said,--and Faith did not +contradict her. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + + + +Established fairly in that great Quilipeak hotel, Faith found her way +of life very pleasant. Mrs. Iredell was much in her own room, coming +out now and then for a while to watch the two young things at their +work. A pretty sight!--for some of _the_ work had been brought +along,--fast getting finished now, under the witching of "sweet +counsel." Miss Linden declared that for her part she was sorry it was +so near done,--what Faith thought about it she did not say. + +Meantime, June was using her rosy wings day by day, and in another week +Mr. Linden might be looked for. Just what steamer he would take was a. +little uncertain, but from that time two people at least would begin to +hope, and a day or two before that time they were to go back to +Pattaquasset. + +The week was near the ending--so was the work,--and in their pretty +parlour the two ladies wrought on as usual. The morning had been spent +in explorations with Reuben Taylor and Sam Stoutenburgh, and now it was +afternoon of a cool June day, with a fresh breeze scouting round to see +what sweets it could pick up, and coming in at the open window to +report. On the table was a delicate tinted summer muslin spread out to +receive its trimming, over which Faith and Miss Linden stood and +debated and laughed,--then Faith went back to her low seat in the +window and the hem of a pocket handkerchief. So--half looking out and +half in,--the quiet street sounds murmuring with the rustle of the many +elm leaves,--Faith sat, the wind playing Cupid to her Psyche; and Miss +Linden stood by the table and the muslin dress. + +"Faith," she said contemplatively, "What flowers do you suppose +Endecott would get you to wear with this--out of a garden full?" + +"It is difficult to tell"--said Faith; "he finds just what he wants, +just where I shouldn't look for it." And a vision of red oak-leaves, +and other illustrations, flitted across Faith's fancy. + +"Very true," said Miss Linden,--"precisely what Aunt Iredell said when +she first saw you,--but I am inclined to think, that the first day you +appear in this you will see him appear with a bunch of white +roses--probably Lamarques; if--" + +"Why Lamarques?" said Faith sewing away. "Pet, how pleasant this wind +is." + +Miss Linden did not immediately answer. She stood resting her finger +tips on the muslin dress, looking down at it with an intentness that +might have seen through thicker stuff, the colour in her cheeks +deepening and deepening. "Why?" she said abstractedly,--"they're +beautiful--don't you think so?--Oh Faith!"--With a joyous clasp of the +hands she sprang to the window, and dropped the curtain like a screen +before her. There was no time to ask questions--nor need. Faith heard +the opening door, the word spoken to the waiter,--saw Mr. Linden +himself come in. + +Pet sprang towards him with a joyful exclamation--an unselfish one, as +it seemed; for after a moment's concentrated embrace which embodied the +warmth of half a dozen, she disappeared out of the room. Mr. Linden +came forward, looking after her at first with surprise,--then as if a +possible explanation occurred to him, he stood still by the +mantelpiece, watching the door by which she had gone. Faith had waited +behind her screen--she could not have told why--utterly motionless for +that minute; then a little quick push sent the curtain aside, and she +came to him, + +"Faith!" he exclaimed--"are you hiding from me?--My dear Mignonette--" + +She hid from him then,--all her face could; for her gladness was of +that kind which banishes colour instead of bringing it. He let her +stand so a few minutes, himself very silent and still; then one hand +brought her face within reach. + +"Little bird!" he said, "I have you safe now,--you need not flutter any +more!" + +Perhaps that thought was hardly composing, for Faith's head drooped +yet, in a statue-like stillness. Not very unlike a bird on its rest +however, albeit her gravity was profound. And rest--to speak it +fairly--is a serious thing to anybody, when it has been in doubt or +jeopardy, or long withheld. What could be done to bring the colour +back, that Mr. Linden tried. + +"Faith," he said, "is this all I am to have from your lips--of any +sort? Where did you get such pale cheeks, precious one?--did I frighten +you by coming so suddenly? You have not been ill again?" + +"No,"--she said, raising her eyes for the first time to look fairly in +his face. But that look brought Faith back to herself; and though she +drooped her head again, it was for another reason, and her words were +in a different key. "We didn't expect you for a week more." + +"No--because I didn't want you to be watching the winds. Mignonette, +look up!" + +Which she did, frankly,--her eyes as delicious a compound of gravity +and gladness as any man need wish to have bestowed upon him. "Pet +brought me here,--" she said. + +"Well do you suppose _I_ have brought an invoice of Dutch patience?" + +"I don't think you are particularly patient,"--said Faith +demurely,--"except when you choose. Oh Endy!--" + +That last note had the true ring of joy. Her forehead touched his +shoulder again; the rest of her sentence was unspoken. + +"I do not choose, to-day. Mignonette, therefore tell me--do you think I +have had all I am fairly entitled to?" + +She flushed all over, but lifted up her head and kissed him. Mr. Linden +watched her, smiling then though she might not see it. + +"My little beauty," he said, "you have grown afraid of me--do you know +that?" + +"Not very--" she said. Certainly Faith was not good at defending +herself. + +"No, not very. Just enough to give us both something to do. Mignonette, +are you ready for me?" + +Faith's face was bowed again almost out of sight. "Don't you think," +she half whispered, "that Pet must be ready to see you, by this time?" + +For all answer--except a smile--she was led across the room to a seat +near the window. But _just_ there, was the table and its muslin dress! +Mr. Linden stopped short, and Faith felt and understood the clasp of +his arm about her waist, of his hand upon hers. But he only said +laughingly, "Faith, was _that_ what made you hide away?" + +"Pet hid me," Faith said very much abashed;--"not I. She let fall the +curtain." + +Mr. Linden let it fall again, in effect, for he quitted all troublesome +subjects, and sat down by her side; not loosing his hold of her, +indeed, nor taking his eyes from her, but in the gravity of his own +deep happiness there was not much to disturb her quiet. + +"I sent you a telegraphic despatch this morning to Pattaquasset, dear +Faith,--I did not mean to take you quite by surprise. And my stopping +anywhere short of that was merely because the arrangement of trains +forced me to lose an hour here on the way. I thought it lost." + +"It hasn't proved so." + +"There was such a doubt of my being in time for this steamer, that I +would not even speak of it. Faith, I have not often heard such music as +the swash of the water about her paddle-wheels as we set off." + +"Didn't you hear the swash of her paddle-wheels as you came in?" said +Faith merrily. + +"No!" The wistful gladness of her eye was a pretty commentary. + +"Is Miss Reason in full activity yet?" said Mr. Linden smiling,--_his_ +comment. + +"She has had no interruption, you know, for a great while." + +"Take care of her, Faith,--she has a great deal of work before her." +The look that answered this was a little conscious, but shewed no fear. + +There was nothing very unreasonable in the face that bent over hers; +the eyes with their deep look, lit up now and then with flashes of +different feelings; the mouth wearing its sweet changeable expression. +A little browner than usual, from the voyage,--a little thinner, +perhaps, with hard work; Mr. Linden still looked remarkably well and +like himself; though Faith felt that nameless change--that mingling of +real and unreal, of friend and stranger, which a long absence always +brings. One minute he was himself, as he had been in +Pattaquasset,--giving her lessons, riding with her, reading to her, +going off to school with one of Mrs. Stoutenburgh's white roses. The +next--he was a gentleman just arrived from Europe!--from whom she could +not get away. Perhaps the last impression was the most remarkable. But +in spite of this, Faith was herself, every inch of her; with the +exception of that one little difference which Mr. Linden had pointed +out and which was not to be denied. + +Some time had passed, when Faith felt Pet's little hand come round her +neck--the other was round Mr. Linden. Faith's start was instant; +springing up she went to the window where behind the curtain lay the +work her hand had dropped. Faith gathered it up. She would have put +that muslin dress out of the way then!--but there it lay in plain sight +and close neighbourhood. Yet somebody must do it, and it was her +business; and with cheeks of a very pretty deep rose that set off her +white drapery, Faith applied herself to the due folding of the +troublesome muslin. In two minutes Pet came to help her, but in a +different mood, though her eyelashes were glittering. + +"Endy, come here and look at this--I think it is so pretty. What +flowers must Faith wear with it?" + +"Carnations look very well." + +"I said white roses."-- + +"Which will you wear, Mignonette?" said Mr. Linden. + +He was favoured with a glance from two gentle eyes, which it was worth +a little wickedness to get. It was only a flash. "I think Pet is +right,"--she answered with great gravity. + +He came close to her side, the low-spoken "you shall have them--" +touched more things than one. + +"What do you suppose I found her doing?" said Pet, folding down a +sleeve. + +"Pet!"--said Faith. "Don't touch that! Not to-night." + +"Do you wish me to leave it unfolded?--the servants will perhaps sweep +in the morning." + +"Pet," said Faith softly,--"don't _you_ raise a dust! We might not lay +it so soon." + +"Endy," said his sister, "how do you do?--you haven't told me." + +"Perfectly well, dear Pet." + +"Turn round to the light and let me see--You've grown, thin, child!" + +He laughed--giving her a kiss and embrace to make up for that; which +was only half successful. But she spoke in her former tone. + +"He looks pretty strong, Faith,--I think I might tell him." + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith, "won't you please ask Pet not to tell you +something?" + +"I will ask _you_," he said softly, laying his hands lightly on her +shoulders. "Faith--I think we may dispense with 'Mr. Linden' _now_, +even before people." + +She was oddly abashed; glanced up at him and glanced down, with the +grave air of a rebuked child. There was nothing about it that was not +pretty; and the next thing her eyes went to Pet. How lovely and +precious she looked as she stood there! with her sweet shy face and +changing colours. Mr. Linden held her to his breast and kissed her more +than once,--but in a way that was beyond chiding. + +"Why must I ask Pet not to tell me something?" + +"It is nothing great!"--said Faith stammering over her words--"Only you +won't like it very well--but you will have to hear it. I thought +another time--that's all." + +"He'll never hear it from you--what I mean," said Miss Linden, "so he +shall from me. We'll see whether he likes it. Know then, Endecott, that +I found this child absorbed in wedding dresses!" + +"Wedding dresses!" he repeated. "More than one?" + +"Oh Endy," said his sister with a sort of laughing impatience, "what a +boy you are! I mean other people's." Faith stood smiling a little, +letting her manage it her own way. + +"Imagine it," Miss Linden went on,--"imagine this one little real +flower bending over a whole garden of muslin marigolds and silk +sunflowers and velvet verbenas, growing unthriftily in a bed of white +muslin!" Mr. Linden laughed, as if the picture were a pleasant one. + +"Mignonette," he said,--"how could you bear the sight?" + +"I was trying to make the best of it." + +"In whose behalf were you so much interested?" + +"Maria Davids," said Faith glancing up at him. "But I was _not_ +interested,--only so far as one is in making the best of anything." + +"Who is trying to make the best of her?" + +Faith looked down and looked grave as she answered--"Jonathan Fax." Mr. +Linden's face was grave too, then, with the recollections that name +brought up. + +"There is one place in the house she cannot touch," he said. "Faith, I +am glad she is not to take care of _him_." + +"I have thought that so often!" + +"Do you like my story, Endy?" said Miss Linden presently. + +"Very much--the subject. I am less interested in the application. Who +next is to be married in Pattaquasset?" + +"I don't know."-- + +"Aunt Iredell says she wishes _you_ would be married here," observed +Pet demurely. To which insinuation Faith opposed as demure a silence. + +"Oh Endecott," said his sister changing her tone and speaking in that +mixed mood which so well became her,--"I'm so happy that you are here! +This week Faith has been pretty quiet, by dint of being away from home; +but nothing would have kept her here next week--and I had been thinking +what we should do,--if the week should run on into two--or if the wind +should blow!" She spoke laughingly, yet with a voice not quite steady. + +"'So he bringeth them to the haven where they would be'!" Mr. Linden +said. But his voice was clear as the very depth of feeling of which it +told. "Aunt Iredell cannot have her wish, Pet," he added +presently,--"there would be at least three negative votes." + +"I suppose that! But I shall come down Saturday to hear what wishes +_are_ in progress." + +"Won't you go with us, Pet, to-morrow?" said Faith earnestly. She had +been standing in a sort of abstracted silence. + +"No, pretty sister, I will not. But I shall keep all those ruffles here +to finish, and Saturday Reuben Taylor shall escort them and me to +Pattaquasset." + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + + + +Things were yet in their morning light and shadow when Faith set off on +this her first real journey with Mr. Linden. She felt the strangeness +of it,--in the early breakfast, the drive alone with him to the +station,--to stand by and see him get her ticket, to sit with him alone +in the cars (there seemed to be no one else there!) were all new. The +towers of Quilipeak rose up in the soft distance, shining in the +morning sun: over meadow and hillside and Indian-named river the summer +light fell in all its beauty. Dewdrops glittered on waving grain and +mown grass; labourers in their shirt-sleeves made another gleaming line +of scythe blades, or followed the teams of red and brindled oxen that +bowed their heads to the heavy yoke. Through all this, past all this, +the Pequot train flew on towards Pattaquasset; sending whole lines of +white smoke to scour the country, despatching the shrill echoes of its +whistle in swift pursuit. + +Faith saw it all with that vividness of impression which leaves +everything sun-pictured on the memory forever. In it all she felt a +strange "something new;"--which gave the sunlight such a marked +brilliancy, and made dewdrops fresher than ordinary, and bestowed on +mown grass and waving grain such rich tints and gracious motion. It was +not merely the happiness of the time;--Faith's foot had a little odd +feeling that every step was on new ground. It was a thoughtful ride to +Pattaquasset, though she was innocently busy with all pleasant things +that came in her way, and the silveriest of tones called Mr. Linden's +attention to them. He did not leave her thoughts too much chance to +muse: the country, the various towns, gave subject enough for the +varied comment and information Faith loved so much. Mr. Linden knew the +places well, and their history and legends, and the foreign scenes that +were like--or unlike--them, or perhaps a hayfield brought up stories of +foreign agriculture, or a white sailing cloud carried them both off to +castles in the air. One thing Mr. Linden might have made known more +fully than he did--and that was his companion. For several times in the +course of the morning, first in the station at Quilipeak, then in the +cars, some friend or acquaintance of his own came to greet or welcome +him. And Faith could see the curiosity that glanced at so much of her +as her veil left in view,--Mr. Linden saw it too, with some amusement. +And yet though all this was a little rouging, it was interesting to her +in another way,--shewing her Mr. Linden as she had never seen him, +among the rest of the world,--giving her little glimpses of his former +life; for the bits of talk were sometimes quite prolonged. + +"Mignonette," he said after one of these occasions, "some people here +are very anxious to make your acquaintance." + +"I am glad you don't want to gratify them." + +"Why?--In the first place, I do." + +"Do you!"--said Faith, somewhat fearfully. + +"Certainly. I, like you, am 'a little proud of my carnations'. How do +you like this way of travelling?" + +"I like it such a morning as this," said Faith. "I don't think it's the +pleasantest. But to-day it's delicious." + +"Yes--to-day," he repeated. "What way of travelling do you like best?" + +"You know I never travelled at all, except to Quilipeak and Pequot. I +believe I like a wagon or a sleigh better than this,--in general." + +"That is our last whistling post!" said Mr. Linden "Faith, I shall be +glad to get rid of that veil. And I have so many things to say to you +that cannot be said here. Is Mr. Somers in Pattaquasset still?" + +"Everybody's there--" Faith answered. + +The little shake of the head with which this intelligence (so far as +regarded Mr. Somers) was received, Faith might understand as she +pleased, for in another minute they were at the Pattaquasset station; +the train was puffing off, and she standing there on the platform with +Mr. Linden. A little way back was Jerry and the wagon--that Faith saw +at a glance; but there too, and much nearer, was Squire +Stoutenburgh--in doubt whether to handle the new corners separately or +together, in his great delight. + +From all this Mr. Linden rescued Faith with most prompt skill; carried +her off to the wagon, shook hands with Dromy and dismissed him, and +then with the reins in his own hands had her all to himself once more. +And Jerry dashed on as if he knew his driver. + +"Mignonette, please put back your veil," were the first words. Which +Faith did, and looked at him, laughing, blushing and a little shy, all +in one pleasant combination. + +"What have you been doing to make yourself lovelier, little Sunbeam?" + +"I have been a year without seeing you,"--said Faith with excellent +seriousness. + +"My presence seems to have no counteracting effect. By the same rule, I +should be--marvellous! To you perceive it?" + +Her eye gave one of its little flashes, but Faith immediately looked +away. + +"Do you know," said Mr. Linden, "I can hardly believe that this year of +exile is over--and that there are none others to follow it. What do you +suppose will be the first subject you and I shall consider?" + +"Mr. Skip," said Faith gravely. + +"Mr. Skip merits no consideration whatever. Is Miss Bezac at work on +that dress?" + +"Because he don't live with us any longer, Endecott." + +"Does he not?--Unfortunate man!" + +"And Dromy is in his place." + +"My dear, my own place is the only one I can think of with any intense +interest. Except yours." + +"Because we have had no farm to manage this winter," said Faith; "so +Dromy could do what we wanted." + +"I am glad to hear it," said Mr. Linden,--"he never used to be able to +do what I wanted. Who has managed for you? Mr. Simlins? And has Mr. +Skip gone off in a pumpkin with Cinderella? Faith, there is the door +where I had the first sight of you--my Rose of delight!" he added +softly, as if all the days since then were passing through his mind in +sweet procession. + +Faith was silent, for she too had something to think of; and there was +no more time to finish either train of conversation that had been +started. Both dropped, even before Jerry drew up at the gate; and if +she had not gained one object she had the other. + +By this time it was about eleven o'clock. It was rarely very hot in +Pattaquasset; and now though under a sunny sky there were summer +breezes rustling in the trees. Both mingled in Faith's senses with the +joy of going into that house again so accompanied. That gladness of +getting home in a pleasant hour! No one was in the cool +sitting-room--Faith pushed open the door between and went into the +eating-room, followed by Mr. Linden. There was Mrs. Derrick; and what +of all things doing but _doing up_ some of Faith's new ruffles! It was +a glad meeting,--what though Mrs. Derrick had no hand to give anybody. +Then she went to get rid of the starch, and the two others to their +respective rooms. But in a very few minutes indeed Faith was by her +side again. + +"Mother--has Cindy come?" + +"She's coming to-morrow, child. But there's not much to do for +dinner,--_that_'s all under way." + +Faith bared her arms and plunged into dairy and kitchen to do all that +her mother characterized as "not much," and a little more. When every +possible item had been cared for--the strawberries looked over--the +cream made ready--the table set--the lettuce washed--the dishes warming +for the vegetables--the pickles and bread on the table--and Faith had +through all this delighted Mrs. Derrick as much as possible with her +company, sight and presence at least,--for Faith's words were a trifle +less free than usual;--when it was all done and the eating-room in a +state of pleasant shady summer readiness, Faith went "ben," as they say +in Scotland. She came into the sitting-room, as quietly as usual, and +coming up to Mr. Linden laid a hand on his shoulder. + +"My own dear little Mignonette!--Do you feel less afraid of me, now I +am here?" + +She hesitated to answer at first, then spoke with a very dainty shy +look--"I don't think I ever had fear enough of you to hurt anything." + +"See that you do not begin now! What have you been about, all these +long months? You were as chary of details as if I had no right to them." + +Faith looked gravely out of the window before she said, "I have not +been studying this year, Endecott." There was so clearly some reason +for it, that Mr. Linden's first thought was one of anxiety. + +"What has been the matter?" + +"You know I told you Mr. Skip had gone away?" + +"Yes." + +"And that he went because we hadn't any farm to manage?" + +"What has the farm to do with your studies?" + +"What shall I do if I make you very angry with me?" said Faith, the +least touch of seriousness mingling with her words, + +"You had better ask what I shall do. Has Mr. Deacon come back and taken +possession?" + +"Yes--And you know, Endy, we used to live by the farm. When that was +gone we had to live by something else. I wouldn't tell you if I could +help your knowing it." + +"Mignonette, what have you been doing?" + +"You know what Pet found me at?" + +"Yes."--She could not tell whether he saw the whole,--he was clearly in +the mind to hear it, taking both her hands in his. + +"I did that," said Faith. + +"Did what?" + +"I got work from Miss Bezac.--She gave me lessons." + +"For how long?" + +"Since--about a fortnight after you went away. It was then Squire +Deacon took away the farm. From that time until Pet came--" she added +with a little rise of colour in her cheeks. + +"And that all the daylight and candlelight hours of each day?" + +"O no, not that. I had long walks to Miss Bezac's, you know--or +rides--every day or two; for we kept Jerry; and I never sewed before +breakfast. And in the evening I used to write letters--part of the +evening." + +"Child! child!"--He dropped her hands, and began to pace up and down +the moderate limits of Mrs. Derrick's best carpet. Until after a few +turns Faith put herself straight in his way and intercepted him, with a +very innocent face. + +"Faith, did no one protest against this--for me?" + +"Yes, sir."-- + +"And you knew that I had guarded--that I had _tried_ to guard you +against any such possibility?" + +Faith paused. "Yes, I knew,--but Endy, that couldn't make any +difference." + +"It did not--How, could not?" + +"It ought not," she said softly and colouring. + +"Can you tell why?" + +"You know, Endy, it was better,--it was right,--it was better that I +should work for myself." + +"Never, Mignonette--while I could work for you. How do you expect to +manage when you are my wife?--And do you think I had no right even to +_know_ about it?" + +"I thought--now was the best time--" Faith said. + +"Am I to learn from this and similar instances what my wife will expect +of me if I chance to be sick or in trouble?" + +It touched her. She coloured again to the roots of her hair. + +"Do you think I did wrong, Endy?" she said doubtfully, yet in an +appealing fashion. + +"I cannot say you did right." + +"But when you could do me no good,"--said Faith very gently,--"and I +should only have given you pain--for nothing?" + +"It would not have given me pain to have you tell it--and the thing +does now. Besides, in a great many cases the thought that it is pain +'for nothing' is a mistake. I might know some remedy when you did not. +Self sacrifice will never run wild in my nature--as it is inclined to +do in yours, but just imagine it once in the ascendant and me with a +bad headache (which I never have),--it can only give you pain to hear +of it--so I tell you of it the next day. But if I had told you at the +time--what conjurations of your little fingers! what quick-witted +alleviations!--till the headache becomes almost a pleasure to both of +us." + +Faith was very near the unwonted demonstration of tears. She stood +still, looking down, till she could look up safely. + +"I will not do so again, Endy.--About important things, I mean," + +"You know, Faith, I am speaking less of this one case, than of the +daily course of future action. Is not perfect frankness, as well as +perfect truth, best? And if I call for your sympathy in all manner of +small and great things, will you let mine lie idle?" + +"I might like it,"--said Faith honestly. "But in great things I will +not again, Endecott." + +"Take care you get the right measure for things," said Mr. Linden +smiling. "Frankness makes a deliciously plain way for one's feet." + +Faith looked sober again, at the idea that she should have failed in +frankness. Then put her hand in his and looked smiling up at him. + +"There is one thing I will not keep from you any longer,"--she said. + +"What is that?--the seal of this little compact of plain speaking?" + +"Strawberries!"-- + +"Only another style of nomenclature,"--said Mr. Linden. + +"You must take the trouble to go into the other room for them." + +And light-heartedly Faith preceded him into the other room, where the +dinner was ready. A very simple dinner, but Mrs. Derrick would not have +had anything less than a roast chicken for Mr. Linden, and the lettuce +and potatoes did very well for a summer day; and Faith's waiting on +table made it only more pleasant. Talk flowed all the while; of a +thousand and one things; for Mrs. Derrick's sympathies had a wider +range since Mr. Linden had been in Germany. Indeed the talk was +principally between those two. It was a remarkably long dinner, without +multiplication of courses--there was so much to say! Many were the +pleasant things swallowed with the strawberries. It is said hunger is +the best sauce; it's not true; happiness is a better. + +And then--what came then? Truly, the same over again--looking and +talking, without the strawberries. Which were not wanted; especially +when Faith was dressed out with roses, as she was presently after +dinner. As she _would_ wash the tumblers and spoons in the dining-room, +spite of all Mrs. Derrick could say, so Mr. Linden would stay there +too; not indeed to do anything but look on, and bestow the roses as +aforesaid. Talking to her sometimes in English, sometimes in French, +with preliminary instructions in German. + +"Mignonette," he said, "I have three letters for you to read." + +"Letters, Endecott!--Who has written to me?" + +"Through me--three regions of country." + +"What do you mean?" + +Just as she spoke the words, Faith paused and set down the tumbler she +was wiping. Her ears had caught the sound of a modest knock at the +front door. She looked at Mr. Linden. + +"Stay here, Endy--please!" she said as she threw down her towel and ran +off. But Faith's hope of a chance was disappointed. She ushered +somebody into the sitting-room and came back gravely and flushed to Mr. +Linden. + +"It's Mr. Somers--and he wants to see you, Endecott!" + +Faith went at her tumblers, and simultaneously, greatly to the dismay +of one party as to the surprise of the other, in walked Mr. Somers +after her. + +"Miss Derrick told me you were in this room, sir," said the clergyman +shaking Mr. Linden's hand,--"so I came in. Ha! I am glad to be one of +the first to welcome you back. How do you do, Mr. Linden? You've been a +great while from Pattaquasset!--and you've been missed, I don't doubt." + +Apparently not by Mr. Somers! But Mr. Linden met all the advances as he +should, merely stating his belief in the general proposition that +"there is always somebody to miss everybody." + +"Will you take a seat here, sir?" he said--"or may I go with you to the +next room?" + +"I--have no choice," said Mr. Somers looking benignantly around;--"it +is very pleasant here, very!--cool;--perhaps Miss Derrick will have no +objection to our taking our seats here?" + +Faith did not say, but as Mr. Somers had taken her leave for granted, +and his seat consequently, she was saved that trouble. How she reddened +at the thought of the roses with which she was dressed! And there she +stood in full view, washing her spoons! But Mr. Somers looked the other +way. + +"I--I am very happy to see you again, Mr. Linden--very happy indeed, +sir! I heard from Squire Stoutenburgh that you were expected, and I +lost no time. How have you enjoyed your health, sir, this year? A +year's a long time! isn't it?" + +Mr. Linden, taking his seat as in duty bound, looked abstractedly at +Faith and the spoons and the roses, and answered according to the +evidence. + +"Yes, Mr. Somers,--and yet it depends very much upon how far the two +ends of the year are apart in other respects. The 'Voyage autour de ma +chambre' could never _seem_ very long, whatever time it took." + +"Ha!"--said Mr. Somers blandly,--he hadn't the remotest idea what this +speech might mean,--"no. Did you have a good passage coming over? We +had every sign of it." + +"Very good,"--said Mr. Linden smiling,--"and very stormy." + +"Ah?"--said Mr. Somers,--"very good and very stormy? Well I shouldn't +have thought that. But I suppose you have got to be such a traveller +that you don't mind which way the wind blows, if it blows you on, +ha?--like Dr. Harrison. _He_ never minds the weather. Dr. Harrison's a +great loss to Pattaquasset too," said Mr. Somers looking at Faith and +smiling a little more openly;--"all our--ha!--our pleasantest members +of society seem to be running away from us! That's what Mrs. Somers +says." + +"One more spoon--and put them up,"--thought Faith,--"and then I'll be +away!"-- + +"But I've come to see if I can't get you to do me a favour, Mr. +Linden," said Mr. Somers withdrawing his eyes and mind from her. +"I--should be very much obliged to you indeed! I'm almost afraid to +ask, for fear I sha'n't get it." + +Faith wiped her spoon slowly. + +"I like to do favours," said Mr. Linden,--"at least I think I should. +But I cannot imagine how you can give me a chance, Mr. Somers." + +"Don't you think it would be a great gratification to all your old +friends in Pattaquasset, if you would consent to fill my pulpit next +Sunday? They--I believe they'd come from all over the country!--and it +would be--a--it would be a very great gratification indeed to me. Can't +I prevail with you?" + +Faith had ceased her work and was standing quite still, with bended +head, and cheeks which had gathered their colour into two vivid spots. +On those carnations Mr. Linden's eyes rested for a moment, with a +strange feeling of pleasure, of emotion. The sort of touched smile upon +his lips when he spoke, did not, it may be said, belong to Mr. Somers. +His answer was very simple and straightforward. + +"I should like to see and speak to all my old friends again, sir, more +than I can tell you--and I think they would be glad to see me. I could +do it so well in no other way. Thank you, Mr. Somers!--it is you who +confer the favour." + +"Then you'll do it?" said Mr. Somers, delighted. "I am very happy--very +fortunate indeed! It will be quite a relief. And a pleasure--a very +great pleasure--a--I assure you, sir. It's profitable for--a--people to +have a change--they listen--ha!--they hear the same things said in a +different way; and it is often striking. And it is certainly profitable +to the pastor. Well, Mr. Linden, I shall make a great many people +happy,--and Mrs. Somers, she'll set off on her side to tell the news. +How long are you going--a--to remain in Pattaquasset?--But I don't +know," added he laughing,--"as I ought to ask!" + +Faith had carried her spoons summarily to the cup-board, and was +sitting at an open window near it, looking out. + +"And I cannot answer," said Mr. Linden. "I have hardly got past my +arrival yet, sir." + +"No--certainly. I was--a--premature. You must excuse me. And I have no +right to take up any more of your time,--as you have so +kindly--a--consented to give me Sunday. What is the state of religion +now, abroad, sir?" + +The answer to which comprehensive enquiry drew on into a talk of some +length, although Mr. Somers had declared he must go and had no right to +stay. For a little while Faith sat still by her window, but then she +vanished and appeared at Mrs. Derrick's side in the kitchen. The dishes +were all done there too, and Mrs. Derrick was "ticing" about,--talking +to Faith and wishing Mr. Somers would go, some time before he went. +Faith heard the closing door, and the light returning step,--then a +clear--not loud-spoken--"Mignonette--where are you?" + +Faith sprang back through the passage, and stood in the eating-room +again. With a very sweet sort of gravity. All her mind and her face +full of the thought that he was going to preach for Mr. Somers. + +"What are you about, little Sunbeam?--are you busy?" + +"No." + +"Then first I want a talk with you, and then a walk with you,--do you +want the same with me?--or are you tired?" + +"No--yes;--I'm not tired a bit." + +"Are you nervous?" he said, drawing her off into the next room. + +"No!" she said laughing a little,--"did you ever think I was, +Endecott?"--But Faith's heart beat somewhat strangely. + +"I am going to try you--" he said as he sat down by her; "so if you +are, shut up your eyes." + +There was no sign of shutting up in Faith's eyes. She looked at him, +not indeed assuredly, but steadily, and with a wee smile. Eye and smile +were met and held, until he had taken her left hand and held that too; +but then looking down at it, Mr. Linden gravely took out a little gold +ring and proceeded to try how well its dimensions agreed with those of +the finger for which it was destined. + +Nothing moved of Faith but her eyes, which followed his, and the +fluttering colour--which fluttered indeed! went and came like the +lights on a wreath of vapour. + +Silently the hand, with both rings on, was looked at for a few +moments--then held to his lips, with special greeting of those two +fingers; and then, as he took off the second ring, Mr. Linden looked up +at her. + +"Mignonette, when may I put it on again?" + +There seemed to be difficulty in Faith's answering. Probably she was +making up her mind to speak, but he had to wait for her words to be +ready. He waited quietly, as if he expected it; looking down at the +hand he held, and saying nothing unless by the clasp of its little +fingers. + +"Do you know where you are going yet Endy?"--she said in a very low +voice. + +"No, darling--not certainly." + +"Then--do you want to know this yet?" + +"Very much." + +Faith had expected no less; she had had fair warning; and besides in +her heart could not but confess that Mr. Linden had reason. Little as +she might care to disturb the existing state of things, which to her +mind was pleasant enough, it was clear that his mind on the subject was +different; and she could not find fault with that. There was a pause +again, of quiet waiting on one side and great difficulty of utterance +on the other, and the words when they came were in the lowest possible +key. + +"What do you wish?" + +"What I have been waiting for all these years." + +"But as to time?" + +"As little as possible." + +"I know,--but what is that, Endy?"--she said with very timid intonation. + +"'As little as possible'?" he said, raising his eyes with a laughing +look to her face,--"the words hardly need explanation--I might have +stayed Mr. Somers this afternoon. It cannot be too soon for me, +Mignonette--but I do not know what is possible for you." + +What was possible for her! It almost took Faith's breath away. Because +she acknowledged Mr. Linden's right to his wish. She was in great +confusion, besides. + +"I will do what you please!" she said at length. "You may arrange it +with mother." + +"No, with you," said Mr. Linden,--"what do you please? Am I to repeat +the passage of Quapaw creek?" + +She looked up and looked at him, and said yes. It was a look any man +would have liked to have given him. Not without a little fear of what +he might say, those eyes put such a pure faith in him and were so ready +to answer his pleasure. She waited for his answer, though her eyes did +not. + +"You know, dear Faith, I sent you word to be ready for me,--is that +done?" + +"Yes nearly." + +"'Nearly' is soon despatched," said Mr. Linden,--"and this is the month +when, 'if ever, come perfect days'--Shall we say a week from to-day?" + +She looked very startled, soft though the glance was that again met his +face. And for a moment the roses fairly fled away. "As soon as +possible" this was, sure enough. They came back however, first +stealthily and then swiftly, till Faith's face was bowed and her right +hand with futile intent of concealment was interposed between it and +Mr. Linden. But whether Faith meant to speak or meant not to speak, +certain it is that words were none. + +"I cannot have this!" said Mr. Linden, as he took the shielding hand +into his own possession,--"Faith, you shall not look pale about it. +This is the second time I have banished the colour in the first +twenty-four hours I have been home. And these roses I see now, seem to +me to come from the same tree as the white ones. If you would look more +boldly at the subject it would appear much less terrific--and the same +might be said of me. What sort of a face have I down there in the +carpet?" + +There was a little clasp of his hand which answered that; but though he +could see Faith's lips give way he did not hear them speak. + +"Mignonette, the treaty waits your signature." + +"Yes, Endy,"--she said quaintly enough. Mr. Linden brought her face +round within sight, saying--much as he had done at Quapaw creek--"Are +you afraid, dear child?" + +"No--" she said timidly, and yet "no" it was. + +"Then it only needs my seal.--In one of the northern countries of +Europe, Mignonette, the bride and bridegroom are expected to stand at +the open window for an hour or two, in full dress,--so you see things +are not so bad as they might be. Now my little beauty--are you ready +for your walk?" + + + +CHAPTER XL. + + + +It was the pretty time of a summer afternoon. The sun, in the last +quarter of almost his longest journey of the year, but high yet, sent +warm rays to rest in the meadows and dally with the tree tops and +sparkle on the Mong and its salt outlet. The slight rustle of leaves +now and then was as often caused by a butterfly or a kildeer as by the +breeze; sometimes by a heavy damask rose that suddenly sent down its +rosy shower upon the ground. It was the very pastime of birds and +insects and roses,--with that slight extra stir which told the time of +day and that the afternoon siesta was at an end. + +Gathering roses as he went along, fastening them in her belt or her +bonnet, Mr. Linden led Faith down the farm road by which he had driven +her to the shore that first day after her illness. There was small +danger of meeting any one,--it was not the time for loads of hay and +grain, and little else passed that way: the labourers in the fields +were seen and heard only at a distance Mr. Linden himself was in as gay +and gladsome a mood as the day,--more lively indeed, and active--taking +the "dolce far" without the "niente;" witnessing what "the year of +exile" had been, by his joy in being at home, with June and Mignonette. +The afternoon's talk had added something even to both their +perfections--he could not forget it though he talked of other things. +Neither did Faith forget it. Yet she laughed at Mr. Linden and with +him; though as far as conversation was concerned she took a secondary +part. She started no subject whatever, of the least moment. + +Subjects started of themselves--in numbers somewhat like the little +butterflies that roused out of the clover as the intruding feet came +by,--about as airy, about as flitting, not quite so purposeless. And +thus in a way more summery than summary, Mr. Linden and Faith arrived +at the shore. He found a shady seat for her, and with no "by your +leave," except in manner, transferred her bonnet to an airy situation +on a wild thorn. + +"Mignonette, do you know what I mean to do with you after Thursday?" + +"No, Endecott."-- + +"I shall put you before me on the wooden horse spoken of in the fairy +tale, turn the pin under his right ear, and be off." + +"What's that story!"--said Faith, looking round at him (he was standing +behind her) with the prettiest of bright flushed faces. + +"An authentic account of how a prince carried off a princess." + +"How did he?" + +"Got her consent first--(couldn't get anybody's else, but that did not +matter)--ordered some one to bring the wooden horse to the front of the +palace, placed her and himself as aforesaid, turned the pin, and +disappeared from the curious eyes of the whole court. The story goes on +to state that they both enjoyed the ride." + +"Was that what you meant when you asked me if I liked travelling in +cars?--" said Faith, a very little laugh speaking her sense of the +application. + +"Quick witted little princess!" said Mr. Linden. "The horse that +refuses to carry double for your service, shall be dismissed from mine." + +"But I don't see much, yet," said Faith. "I don't understand the story +nor you. I think you have taken me a great many rides on that horse." + +"Not en princesse," said Mr. Linden smiling. "The story is very simple, +my dear. After shewing his wife various places of interest, and letting +his friends see her, the prince arrives at home. It is said that he +then finds his fortune--but I think that part of the story is fabulous, +so don't set your heart upon it." + +"That's the story--but what do you mean, Endy?" + +"To give you such a ride. I mean that I am the prince, and that you +(will be) the princess, who shall do all these things." + +Faith jumped up. "Do you!"-- + +"Truly I do, dear Mignonette." + +Faith's face was changing. The undoubted joy in her eye had yet a check +somewhere. + +"But Endecott--" + +"Qu'est-ce que c'est, Mademoiselle?" + +"You haven't a wooden horse!"--she said with a delicious and most +delicate mixture of frankness and timidity. + +"Are you sure of the fact?--and after all, Mademoiselle, what then?" + +The same look almost answered him without words. "I am not sure--" she +said. "I thought so." + +"What is the point of the remark?" + +She hesitated between the two feelings. But frankness, or duty, carried +it. "Because, Endy--if that were so,--I don't want to go!" + +"How did your royal pride get turned about?--that you will look at none +_but_ a wooden horse?" + +She smiled at him, a little puzzled as of old, and not choosing to +venture any further. + +"I suppose I know what you mean, my dear one," Mr. Linden said, taking +both her hands in his, and smiling too; "but as I do not intend to be +John Gilpin, you need not be his wife,--not yet. Besides, the horse--of +whatever sort--will require less than you suppose; and for the prince +and princess, they, + + Being in the air, + Will not care + How they fare!"-- + + +Which words had an overcoming effect not only upon Faith's nascent +scruples, but upon Faith herself; and a perfect series of little laughs +of the most musical description rolled along a very limited extent of +the shore, kept company by flushing colours as fair as the lights which +were just then playing in the clouds overhead. Mr. Linden holding her +hands still, watched his princess with the most perfect satisfaction. + +"Is your mind at rest?" he said. "You know I threatened to keep you all +to myself for six months--though I'm afraid four will be as near as I +can come to it." + +"But where are you going, Endy?" + +"That waits partly on your choice. In general, to hills, cities, and +rivers,--the Falls, the White Mountains, Washington, and the pictured +rocks of Lake Superior. Then to some shore where you can see real +surf--and to delight the eyes of some of my old friends by the way." + +Faith's eye went gravely over to the sunny Long Island shore, but her +mind had made a perfect leap. The only outward token of which was the +unconsciously playing line of her lips. Such a journey!--with him! The +breeze from the White Mountains seemed to blow in her face already, and +the capital of the country rose before her in a most luminous +cloud-view. With Mr. Linden to guide her and to tell her +everything!--She did not see the eyes that were watching her, but when +she suddenly noticed the silence and turned towards Mr. Linden, the +smile was on his lips too. + +"I thought I should go right to work," she said,--"to study--to make up +for lost time. Can't I do that too?" + +"As much as you like! But don't you know there is a lost holiday to be +made up, as well?" + +"It is made up,"--she said gently, after a minute's hesitation. + +"How that grieved me when I went away!" said Mr. Linden,--"to take from +you what I might never be able to replace. But sit down, dear child--I +want to consult you about various things." + +Faith sat down and looked--like a grave child indeed. Her journey for +the present forgotten, and all her mind bent on something more weighty +and worthy. + +"I told you I had three letters for you to read," said Mr. Linden. "One +reached me in Germany, two I found waiting for me here. They are all +about the same subject, Mignonette: where you and I shall establish +ourselves." + +A flush rose, but she looked steadily. + +"You told me once," Mr. Linden went on, "that in such a case I should +choose the place where I was most needed--where there was most work for +me to do. Now you shall judge. The pastor of a large manufacturing town +in Pennsylvania (I may say of the town--it is so in effect) has +accepted a call to Baltimore. I knew him formerly, and I suppose it is +through his influence that the people have applied to me." Faith +thought it very likely. + +"How large is the town, Endy?" + +"Ten or fifteen thousand--I do not know precisely." + +"And no other churches?" + +"Yes, but this is so much the leading one that the others hardly hold +their ground; and by the way, I think I would rather have a call from +one of them. Apparently the churchgoers are in the minority." + +Faith thought there must be work enough to do in that place; but she +only listened more gravely. + +"An old friend of my father's writes the second letter. He lives at +Newport, and has pleased himself with building a new church in a part +of the island not much adorned with spires. Climate and society are +good, scenery picturesque, and he is quite sure if I will only +bring--Mrs. Linden!--to his house, she will decide in favour of Newport +at once." + +Faith's eyes went down, and rouge of the richest and frankest coloured +her cheeks. + +"Do you think she will?" said Mr. Linden demurely. + +"What is the other, Endy?--You said three." + +"The other, love, is from those very White Mountains you are going to +see. Another friend writes the letter,--one who has built himself a +nest there for summer migrations. It is a strange place, Faith, by all +accounts--I have never been to that part of the mountains. A scattered +population, sprinkled about on the hills like their own dewberries, and +to be found in much the same manner. Neither church nor chapel, but +only an unused schoolhouse--of which Mr. Olyphant prays I will come and +take possession. Snow and frost, the valleys and the everlasting +hills--that would be your society." + +Faith's eyes were raised now and met Mr. Linden's. Grave, as one who +felt the weight of the question to be settled; but with a brow +unshadowed, and eyes unfearing. A child's look still! + +"Mr. Olyphant says there could not be better air for my bird to sing +in," he went on with a smile,--"there was one great objection to the +place in Pennsylvania. How does this seem to you, dear Faith?--it is +rather on a spur of the mountains--not absolutely shut in. Then I am +not sure how much society you would have but mine,--what do you think +of it, in comparison with Newport?" + +She answered at first with a rare little smile, so happy in its grave +trust, and which withal a little significantly deferred the question. + +"I know you will go where you think you ought to go. Endy--I don't know +about places." + +"I doubt whether I shall grant more than half of Mr. Alcott's request," +said Mr. Linden. "I suppose if George has not got home I may venture to +grant that. Faith, it is a very singular fact that everybody falls in +love with you." + +To judge by Faith's blush, it was a somewhat painful "fact." "Whom are +you talking of?" she said doubtfully. + +"The present occasion of my remark is George Alcott--said to be absent +on a crusade of search after a pair of eyes he saw in Pattaquasset." + +"I don't know him," said Faith laughing a little; but instantly +recurring to business she asked very earnestly, "Then, Endy, you think +you will go to that place in the mountains?--or haven't you made up +your mind?" + +"I am inclined to that one, of the three--I cannot say my mind is +absolutely made up. It has had so much else to do since I came home! +Faith, do you mean to have any bridesmaids?" + +Faith jumped up off her rock. "Endy, I want to run down and look at +these little fish. And it's growing late, besides!"-- + +"Yes, but, you must answer me first," said Mr. Linden laughing and +holding her fast. "It is needful I should know beforehand, because they +will want supporters, if I do not." + +"I don't want any, Endy," said Faith with cheeks like two pink roses, +but standing very still now. + +"Then come and shew me the fish. Don't you think it would be gladsome +work to seek out those untaught and uncared for people up in the +mountains?" + +They had come down to the rocks between and among which at low tide the +shell fish played in an inch or two of water; and sitting on one of the +mossy stones Faith was watching the mimic play of evil passions which +was going on among that tribe of Mollusca below her; but her mind was +on something else. + +"I read the other day," she said, "those words of Paul, where he says +to the Thessalonians 'we were allowed of God _to be put in trust with +the gospel_'.--They made me very happy--they make me happy now. What I +thought of in connexion with them, I mean." + +"And what was that?" + +"That they are your words too,"--she said after looking up as if she +thought her meaning must be known.--"And that even I--have something to +do," she added lower. + +Mr. Linden stood by her, looking off at the rippling waves, then down +at his fair little helper. "Yes, Faith--it is a glorious thing to have +any part of that work in trust,--and the part which makes least show +may be no less in reality. 'In trust'!" he repeated, looking off again. +"Such beautiful words!--such terrible." + +"No!"--she said with a smile,--"I don't think so." + +"Nor I, dear, from your point of view. But in the world, Faith, where +you have been so little, I have seen the words of the trust to be +boundless--the faithfulness of the trustees within very narrow limits. +And to be always ready to 'sow beside all waters'--who is? 'Freely ye +have received, freely give,' is the command--but what Christian sees +with half perception what he has received!" + +Faith paused and looked thoughtful, and then smiled again. "I always +think of the words you read to me one day,--'Only be thou strong and +very courageous,--for the Lord, thy God is with thee, whithersoever +thou goest.'"-- + +The answering look told that if Mr. Linden's words had not been said +for the purpose of drawing her out, they had at least served that +purpose. + +"You are a dear little Sunbeam!" he said. "Acting out your name, as I +told you long ago. There is nothing needful to get _you_ ready for the +White Mountains but a fur cloak. Now come--it is growing late, as you +say." + +It was a late tea-time when they got home. They sat down to tea and +Faith had not told her mother yet! which she remembered with a somewhat +uneasy mind. There was nothing uneasy about the third member of the +family!--the poise and balance of the white strawberries upon each +other was not more complete than the resting adjustment of all his +thoughts. + +"Mrs. Derrick," he said as she handed him his cup of tea, "what do you +consider the prettiest time of day?" + +"The prettiest time of day?" Mrs. Derrick repeated,--"do you mean when +the day looks best--or the people? I'm sure I don't know, Mr. +Linden,--I never watch anybody from morning to night but Faith." + +"I am talking of Faith--or what concerns her." + +"O well all times of day are alike to her," said her mother +fondly,--"she's just as pretty one time as another,--and one day as +another. Only the days when she used to get letters." + +"Mignonette," said Mr. Linden, "when should I have heard such a piece +of news from you?" + +"I never knew it before," said Faith. + +"How many hours does she need for a morning toilette?" said he, +pursuing his researches. + +"Hours!" said Mrs. Derrick--"you'd better say minutes. It's less than +an hour, commonly." + +"But I mean uncommonly." + +Mrs. Derrick looked thoroughly puzzled. But Faith had got the key, and +hopeless of stopping Mr. Linden she thought the next best thing was to +expedite matters. + +"When I take longest, mother,"--she suggested in a low voice. + +"How long would she need to arrange orange flowers to her +satisfaction--" said Mr. Linden,--"or white muslin?" + +"O!--" said Mrs. Derrick setting down the teapot with her cup half +filled. "I didn't know what you _were_ talking about." + +"I am talking about next Thursday," said Mr. Linden, with a gay +gentleness of manner. "Because we have decided--or I have--that +Thursday is to be the prettiest day of the week, and now we want to +choose the prettiest time of day." + +A little flush came into Mrs. Derrick's quiet face,--she said not a +word. + +"You are willing it should be then?" Mr. Linden said. + +The mother's "yes" was very firm and clear, and yet not in just her +usual tone. That came back a minute after with the relief which a +thought of business always brings. + +"That dress isn't made!" she said. Mr. Linden's "Faith!--" was +expressive. + +"I knew that it could be done in a day at any time, Endecott,"--said +Faith, very grave and flushed. "It is up stairs in my drawer, mother." + +"Kept there by what piece of superstition?" he said smiling. "Did you +think if you made it up that I would never come back?" + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + + + +Friday passed all too swiftly. Not in much _work_, so far as Faith was +concerned--unless so far as Mr. Linden gave her work. Apparently she +had been out of his sight long enough--he was not in the mood to let +her be so any more. Saturday followed close in Friday's steps until +after dinner, then came a move. For Pet and Reuben were to come in the +afternoon train; and Mr. Linden going with Jerry to the station to meet +them, summoned Faith to give "her sweet company." + +So far as the station, Faith gave it; but there she drew back into the +furthest corner of the wagon, and waited, while Mr. Linden walked up +and down between the wagon and the front platform. Waited, and watched, +furtively, everything; him and the people that spoke to him; with those +strange eyes that saw everything new. Then came the whistle! the rush +and roar of the train--the moment's lull; and then Faith saw the three +she looked for coming towards her. Reuben a little in advance with Miss +Linden's travelling bag, she with one hand on her brother's shoulder +and her eyes on his face, coming rather slowly after,--talking, asking +questions, some of which Faith could almost guess from the look and +smile with which they were answered. It was a pretty picture; she felt +as if she knew them both better for seeing it. Before they had quite +reached the wagon, Pet received an answer which made her quit Mr. +Linden with a little spring and leave him to follow with Reuben. And +Faith had opened the wagon door. + +"Faith! you dear child!" said Miss Linden, "what have you been doing +with yourself--or what has anybody done with you, to stow you away here +like a forgotten parcel?" She had entered the wagon no further than to +rest one knee there holding both Faith's hands and looking at her with +full, bright, loving eyes. "How came Endecott to leave you here, alone?" + +"Two people must be alone--if they are not together," said Mr. Linden. +"Pet, shall I put you in or out?" + +She laughed, jumping into the wagon then and twining one arm about +Faith's waist, much like a spray of woodbine. + +"What do you think I have asked him?" she whispered,--"and what do you +think he has told me?" + +"I don't know," said Faith;--"but I guess." + +A significant clasp of the woodbine answered that--then the hand rested +in a quiet embrace. + +"How well he looks!" she said, her eyes taking glad note of one figure +on the seat before them. "Faith, how are you?" + +"I am well."--Nothing could be quieter in its kind. "Did he tell you +what he is going to do to-morrow, Pet?" + +"No--" she said looking her quick inquiry. Faith's face might have told +her before she spoke; such a joy sat gravely on her brow and in the +depth of her eyes. + +"If you go to church to-morrow, you will know." + +A sudden flush, both of cheeks and eyes, bore witness to the interest +of this news. The look met Faith's for a moment--then rested on Mr. +Linden, and then with that little tide of feeling deepening its sweet +flow, the eyes fell, the unbent lips wavered and trembled. Faith +ventured only a silent act of free-masonry; a fast clasp of her fingers +round Miss Linden's hand that rested on her waist; but maybe never yet +in their short friendship had they felt their hearts beat so close +together. With one, there was perhaps some old recollection or +association--some memory of the time when such a day had been first +talked of, that made self-command a hard matter; for though the lips +presently grew still, and the eyes quiet, the gravity that remained was +easily stirred, and the voice spoke doubtfully. + +There was more discussion of various things that evening than Faith +cared for, but it could not be helped. Sunday brought a lull of +discussions. But the gravity which sat on Faith's face that morning was +not the less but the more. If a guardian angel had shewn himself +bodily, his face might have worn such a pure distance from low and +trifling things and like kindred with the blue sky and the truth it +emblematizes. That day was the first of her new life to Faith. Not such +to Mr. Linden; but it was the first of her seeing him publicly take the +office to which his life was to be given, and in which hers was to be +by his side. She was a very grave "sunbeam" when she set out to walk to +church--and as clear! + +There were sunbeams in plenty of the literal kind abroad; it was a +perfect day; and everybody was glad of that, though some people +remarked it would have made no difference if it had rained +cannon-balls. Never did Pattaquasset see such a coming to church! never +in the remembrance of Mr. Somers. They came from all over; the country +was gleaned; and many a fire was raked up on the hearthstone that day +which most Sundays got leave to burn and somebody to watch it. The +fishermen came from Quapaw, and the labourers from the farms all over +the country; those who did not directly know Mr. Linden, knew of him; +and knew such things of him that they would not have missed this +opportunity of hearing him speak, for a week's wages. The fathers and +mothers of the boys he had taught, _they_ knew him; and they came in +mass, with all their uncles, aunts and cousins to the remotest degree, +provided they were not geographically too remote. The upper society of +Pattaquasset lost not a man nor a woman; they were all there, some with +great love, others with great curiosity. The Stoutenburghs had plumed +themselves. Mr. Simlins was as upright as his new beaver. Miss Essie De +Staff with magnified black eyes; Judge Harrison with benevolent +anticipation. Mr. Stephens the fisherman had driven his little lame +child down to the Pattaquasset church, "for once;" Jonathan Ling was +there with his wife, having left the eldest child to keep house, and +both being in great smartness and expectation. Jonathan Fax was there +and his new wife; the one with a very grave head, the other with a very +light one, and faces accordingly. Mrs. Derrick and Pet had long ago +been quietly seated; when through that full house, after her Sunday +school duties were over, Faith came in. Her colour was very bright, and +she trembled; but it was not because many saw in her an object of +curiosity; though Faith remembered it, at that minute she did not care. +She felt the stillness of expectation that filled the house, with which +the little murmur of sound now and then chimed so well; the patter of +childish feet that followed her up the aisle spoke so keenly to her +wrought up feeling of the other one of her class, who used to follow +him with such delight, that Faith felt as if the happy little spirit +long since received in at the golden gates, was even there in the +church, to hear once more his beloved teacher. Who else?--what other +angel wings stirred in the soft breeze that floated through from door +to door?--what other unseen, immortal senses waited on those dear +mortal lips?--Faith's step grew lighter, her breath more hushed; eyes +might look at her--she looked not at them. + +And eyes did look, from all sorts of motives; perhaps in the whole +church there was not a person who did not try to see her, except the +one who next to herself was the most interested--Pet never moved. Her +head was bent, her hand half supporting half concealing in its +position, like any statue she sat there, nor even stirred when the stir +of every one else told who had come in. If she held her breath to bear +every one of her brother's steps as he passed by, she did not look at +him; did not raise her head till his first prayer was ended; then her +rapt gaze was as unwavering. + +The service which followed could not be measured by the ordinary line +and rule of pulpit eloquence and power,--could not be described by most +of the words which buzz down the aisles after a popular sermon. There +was not the "newness of hand" of a young preacher--for almost from +boyhood Mr. Linden had been about his Master's work. To him it was as +simple a thing to deliver his message to many as to one,--many, many of +those before him had known his private ministrations, and not a few had +through them first known the truth; and now to all these assembled +faces he was just what each had seen him alone; as humble, as earnest, +as affectionate, as simply speaking not his own words,--for "Who hath +made man's mouth--have not I, the Lord?" No one who heard the +ambassador that day, doubted from what court he had received his +credentials. "In trust with the gospel!" Yes, it was that; but that +with a warm love for the truth and the people that almost outran the +trust. As the traveller in the fountain shade of the desert calls to +the caravan that passes by through the sand,--as one of the twelve of +old, when Christ "blessed and brake and gave to his disciples, and the +disciples to the multitude"; so did he speak from the words-- + + "Eat, O friends!--drink, yea drink abundantly, O beloved!" + + +There were some there who would never forget that day. There were many +to whom it seemed, that not the warm summer breeze that floated in was +gentler or sweeter than the feeling that filled the place. The little +lame girl, and her older and rougher father and mother, listened alike +to their dear friend with moveless eyes; and drank such a draught of +those sweet waters as it was long, long since either of them had tasted +in a church. It was a white day for all the fishing population; and +nothing would have kept them from coming in the afternoon. Miss Essie's +black eyes lost all their fire. Farmer Simlins, unknown to himself, sat +and smiled. And the one who listened most tenderly and joyfully, +listened indeed quietly to the last word, or till her face had leave to +bow itself from sight; quietly then no longer, only that such tears +come from no broken-up fountains of unrest. They came freely, as Faith +recalled and applied the whole of her quoted sentence of Paul to the +Thessalonians-- + +"_For as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the gospel_, +SO WE SPEAK." + + +She was very quiet when the benediction was spoken, but she drew her +veil closely as they left the church. + +It was a lingering getting out, even for them, because others would +linger. Some turned to look, some stopped to speak; and if Mr. Linden +had had twenty hands they would all have found employment. Part of this +the two veiled figures saw as they made their way to the door, and +there Miss Linden paused and looked back. The broad stream of sunlight +that lay across the church, the shadowy background figures,--in that +very spot of light, Mr. Linden,--made a never-to-be-forgotten picture. +Reuben Taylor stood close behind him, a step back, looking down; little +Ency Stephens perched up on the pew cushions had one hand; Robbie +Waters--far down below the other. Phil Davids and his father, Squire +Stoutenburgh, and some of the Quapaw fishermen made up the group. Pet +gave one look, and then she went swiftly down the steps and on. + +Slowly the people scattered away, up and down the road; not with the +brisk steps and busy voices that give token the church service has but +interrupted--not suspended--the current of everyday thought and +behaviour. It was a fair picture of a Sunday in a New England village; +the absolute repose of nature copied and followed by hands that other +days let nothing stand still. Before Faith and Pet got home the road +was almost empty. Mr. Linden had overtaken them, but all his greeting +was to put Faith's hand on his arm--then he walked as silent as they. +It was a little thing, and yet it touched the very feeling she had had +all day--the beginning of her new way of life, with him. + +The afternoon was like the morning. Not a creature was missing of all +who from far and near had filled the house in the former part of the +day! and doubtless it was well that Mr. Somers could not hear the +spoken and unspoken wishes that would have unseated him and caused him +to relinquish for ever his charge in Pattaquasset. + +The afternoon air was enticing, the afternoon walk home very lingering; +then standing in the hall to look and taste it still, the sweet peace +of everything seemed to enter every heart. Even Pet, who all day had +been unheard and almost unseen, stood with clasped hands looking out; +and only the heavy eyes spoke of the oppression that had been. But as +she looked the tears came back again, and then she turned to Mr. +Linden--wrapping her arms round his neck. + +"Endy, Endy!--do you remember the first time we talked of this day?" + +Mr. Linden gave back her caresses without a word, but with a look of +pain that Faith had rarely seen on his face. It was some minutes before +he spoke. "Dear Pet--she knows it now!" + +Miss Linden looked up then, mastering her tears, and with a broken +"Forgive me, Endy--" she kissed him and went away up stairs. But Mr. +Linden did not look out any more. He went into the sitting-room, and +resting his face on his hand sat there alone and still, until Faith +came to call him to tea. + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + + + +"Now my two pets," said Mr. Linden as they left the table Monday +morning, "what are you going to do?" + +"_I_ am going to work," said his sister. "Mrs. Derrick and I have +business on hand. You can have Faith." + +"There is an impression of that sort on my own mind." + +"But I mean to-day. Except for about five minutes every half hour." + +"It would be needless for me to say what I am going to do," observed +Faith quietly. + +"If that is a little piece of self assertion," said Mr. Linden, "allow +me respectfully to remark that my 'impression' had no reference to the +present time. Do you feel mollified?" + +"No," said Faith laughing. "You are wide of the mark." + +"Then will you please to state your intentions?--So far from being +needless, it will be what Mr. Somers would call 'gratifying.'" + +"I don't know," said Faith merrily. "I understand that if I tell you, +you will say I have no time for them!"-- + +"For them!--enigmatical. Who told you what I would say?--Ask me." But +Faith laughed. + +"I am going to make Pet and you some waffles for tea." + +"Do they require more time than shortcakes?" + +Faith stood before him quietly as if she had a great deal to say. "I am +going to make bread, for mother and all of us." + +"What else?" + +"Sponge cake, I think." + +"And after that?" + +"Crust for pot-pie." + +"De plus?" + +"Curds,"--said Faith, looking down now. + +"Pourquoi, Mademoiselle?" + +"To eat," said Faith demurely. "You like them." + +"Mademoiselle, I prefer you." + +"Each in its way,"--replied Faith admirably well, but with a glance, +nevertheless. + +"There is only one in my way," said Mr. Linden. "Well does that +complete the circuit?--I suppose nothing need go between cheese and +bread _but_ waffles?" + +"I shall wish--and I suppose you would wish that I should, look over +strawberries." + +"Where do you commonly do all these things?" + +"The sponge cake and the strawberries in the other room--other things +in the kitchen." + +"We may as well begin as we are to go on!" said Mr. Linden. "If you +will not come and keep me company I must do that for you. Faith, I +think Miss Essie's statement of facts was much like the artistic +representation of lions and men, in the fable!" + +Faith did not at all dislike this compounding of matters; and so the +strawberries were looked over, and the sponge cake beaten in the +dining-room; with various social enlivenings. For besides Mr. Linden's +calls upon her attention, and the subjects by him presented to be +looked over along with the strawberries, Faith made now and then a run +into the kitchen to see Mrs. Derrick or Cindy there; and if the runs up +stairs were less frequent, they took more time. For Miss Bezac had +arrived, and she and Miss Linden were deep in the white folds of +Faith's muslin dress. There too was Mrs. Derrick, for the touch and the +making of that dress stirred her very heart. Faith was often in +demand,--not to use her needle, but her taste--or to be fitted, or +'tried on,' as Miss Bezac said. + +Coming back from one of these "trying" visits to the three workers, +Faith found Mr. Linden by the sitting-room table; before him a package, +in his hands a letter. + +"Faith," he said, "come and look at this." Faith ran in from the +strawberries. + +"Rosy fingers are not needed," said Mr. Linden, "but as eyes are first +called for they may pass. Sit down here by me, Mignonette, and take off +this wrapping paper." + +Which very curiously and amusedly, and now with a little suspicious +tinge in her cheeks, Faith did; remarking that she could not help her +fingers being rosy. + +"Keep the roses to their chosen location," said Mr. Linden gravely, as +the first paper parted right and left and shewed a second, which bore +this inscription.--"For Mrs. Endecott Linden--with the warmest regards +and respects of W. and L. Olyphant." Faith suddenly jumped up, pushed +back her chair and whisked back to the strawberries, where she was +found diligently putting the hulls into a dish by themselves. + +"Mignonette, your fingers will be more rosy than ever." Mr. Linden +spoke from the doorway where he stood watching her. Then coming forward +he laid a key on the table. "That belongs to you." + +"Wouldn't you be so good as to take care of it? You see I am busy." + +"No my dear, I will not be so good. You shall have that pleasure--as a +reward for running away. Would you like to hear this letter?" + +"If you please--" Faith said with a little hesitation. + +"You shall read it to yourself if you like better--" but he read it to +her, after all. It was a pretty letter, shewing so well Mr. Linden's +place in the writer's affection that Faith could not but enjoy it. +Neither could she dislike the messages to herself though they did cost +her a few roses. As to the contents of the package the letter gave no +hint. + +"What is that the key of, Endy?" she said, glancing up after the letter +was finished. + +"I don't know!"--Faith went on with her strawberries. + +Through the open hall door came little uneven steps, tracking on +through other open doors even to the dining-room,--there the steps and +Charles twelfth came to a pause. + +"Ma said," he began,--then fixed his eyes and mind on Mr. Linden with a +concentration that was marvellous. The general attire and appearance of +the little potentate were as usual, but both hands were in use to +support a heavy mass of red coral, hugged up to his blue apron in the +most affectionate manner. With a sigh of relief Charles twelfth +withdrew his attention from Mr. Linden long enough to set the coral on +the floor, then gazed anew, with his hands behind him. + +"Charley!" said Faith laughing,--"what are you doing!--and what have +you done?" + +"Ma said--" began the child, stopping short as before. + +"Charles twelfth," said Mr. Linden holding out his hand "do you never +use anything but your eyes? Come here and speak to me. Who is prime +minister now?" + +"You,"--was the very prompt reply. "Ma said so yesterday." + +The laugh in Mr. Linden's eyes as he looked at Faith, was a thing to +see. "Faith," he said, "the conversation is in your hands!" + +Faith was in doubtful readiness to speak. "Charley!"--she said as soon +as she could,--"come here. Was that all your ma said?" + +"No," said the boy, "she said a heap more." + +"Well what did you come here for to-day?" + +"I came to fetch that--" said Charles twelfth with another sigh. + +"Poor child!--What did you bring it for, Charley?" + +"Why for you," said Charley. "Ma said she didn't know when it oughter +come--and she guessed you'd like it, 'cause it used to live off in the +place where you said they eat up babies and people!" and Charles +twelfth's eyes grew large and round with the announcement. "And ma said +she's sorry 'twarnt more. I ain't." + +Faith's eyes went to Mr. Linden with a flash and a burst of the +uncontrollable little laugh; but after that they were suspiciously +downcast, and Faith busied herself in providing little Charles twelfth +with the refreshment of a good saucer of sugared strawberries, with +which he sat down in a corner much consoled. And when he was setting +off again, Faith gave him a whispered message to ask his mother to come +and see her Thursday. Just what Mr. Linden saw in the piece of red +coral he did not declare, but when Faith came back to the table he was +looking at it very fixedly. + +"Faith," he said, "that is not the worst token, nor the worst +envoy--that might be. What a shy child you were that first time I took +you down there! And you have not changed any too much," he added, +carrying her off to the other room. "I am not sure that you ought to be +indulged--suppose you open this box." + +"You do it, please, Endecott!"--she said with a crimson rush to her +cheeks. + +"I do not believe there is any explosive material under such an +address,--however, if there is I prefer that my hands should fire the +train. Stand back, Faith!"--and with cautious and laughing deliberation +the key was turned and the lid raised. It was a very plain lid, by the +way--mere white pine. + +"There is nothing here (that appears) but silk paper and cotton,--not +gun cotton, probably," said Mr. Linden. "Faith, do you wish me to risk +my safety any further?" + +"Yes."-- + +"My dear, you must have more courage. If I am to open all your boxes I +shall have my hands full, and--ne vous en déplaise--I would rather see +the work in yours." And she was seated before the portentous pine box, +Mr. Linden keeping his stand at her side. Faith blushed and didn't like +it; but applied her fingers with a sort of fearful delicacy to the silk +paper and cotton, removing one after the other. + +The box had interior divisions, by way of help to the silk paper, its +different contents being thus more securely separated. Faith's fingers +exploring among the papers brought out first a silver chocolate pot, +then the dainty china cups for the same, then the spoons, in size and +shape just suiting the cups. Spoons and chocolatière were marked with +the right initials; the cups--chocolate colour themselves, that no drop +of the dark beverage might hurt their beauty--had each a delicate gilt +F. L. twining about the handle. + +If the givers could have seen the gift uncovered and inspected!--the +rosy delight in Faith's cheeks, the pleasure in her eye! They would +have considered themselves rewarded. She looked and bent over the +pretty things, her attitude and blush half veiling her admiration and +satisfaction, but there was no veiling them when she looked up at Mr. +Linden. "I am so glad you like chocolate!"--she said naively. But it +was worth a hundred remarks of aesthetic criticism. + +"I am so glad I do!" he said, stooping to kiss her. "Faith, one would +almost imagine some bird of the air had told them our chocolate +associations." + +"Now won't you put these back for me?" said Faith,--"because, if that +sponge cake is to get done to-day I haven't two minutes to lose!" + +The pretty chocolatière was but the beginning, as Faith soon found. +Found to her most utter and unbounded astonishment--though to that of +no one else. + +Tuesday arrived a packet from Madame Danforth, accompanied by a note of +affection and congratulation. The present was peculiar. A satin sachet, +embroidered after the little Frenchwoman's desire, and to do it justice +very exquisitely scented, was the first thing. A set of window curtains +and toilet cover, of a curious and elaborate pattern of netting, made +of very fine thread,--a manufacture in which Madame Danforth delighted +and on which she prided herself,--was the second thing. The third was a +pretty breakfast service of French china. + +Faith enjoyed them all, with some amusement and some pleasure of +possession, and not a little affectionate remembrance. Even the sachet, +in this view, was particularly precious; that was the only use Faith +saw in it. But the next arrival gave her a great start. + +It was again this time a deal box, but immensely heavy; and it was a +strong box that Faith did not attempt to open; marked only 'Grover & +Baker', which told her nothing. There was no occasion indeed. A note +was delivered with the box, and a small covered basket. The note +conveyed the assurance of Sophy Harrison's love and a request that +Faith would let her shew it on the present occasion. It went on.-- + + + +"Papa has sent you, dear Faith, an odd thing for a present--for _such_ +a present--but I haven't been able to put it out of his head. He +insists it is what you ought to have, and that he shall have the +pleasure of giving it to you To save you the trouble of opening the box +before you want it, I will state that it contains a _sewing machine_. +Papa has taken great pains to satisfy himself--and it is certainly the +best or one of the best. My offering, dear Faith, is in the basket, and +may be looked at with less difficulty." + + + +Miss Sophy's offering was a kindly one. She had sent a little invoice +of silver spoons and forks. Faith was pleased; and yet she looked +grave, and very grave, over these things. She made no remark whatever +to say why. + +If no one else knew there was to be a wedding, at least the express man +did!--and probably in his mind joined these new packages with those he +had so often brought before, very comfortably. The next arrival was a +delicate pair of silver salt-cellars and spoons from Mr. Alcott,--then +a little framed sketch from the Captain of the Vulcan, portraying the +meeting of two steamers at sea, with these words underneath--'The +despatch post'. At which Mr. Linden looked with much amusement. Faith +was delighted. + +First on Wednesday morning came Miss Bezac,--bringing the well assorted +tokens of an elaborate needlebook and a simple bread trencher and +knife; and staying only long enough to say, "You see, Faith, what made +me think of this, was that the first time I heard of _that_, was when +you came in for bread and milk. And now you'll have to think of me, +whether you sew or eat!"--with which triumphant sentiment Miss Bezac +departed. + +They say ill news flies fast,--in this case so did the good: certainly +people are quick to hear and understand what pleases them. The friends +who had heard from Pet or Mrs. Iredell what was to be, had spread the +information: and in the same sort of way, from two or three old family +dependants another class of Mr. Linden's friends had heard it. Perhaps +among all her presents the little tokens from these people touched her +most. They came queerly done up and directed, sometimes the more formal +'Mrs. Linden' changed into an ill-spelled '_For Mr. Endecott's +wife_'--or '_For the young lady, in care of Mr. Linden_'. She knew the +names thereto appended as little as they knew hers,--could only guess +the vocations,--the tokens were various. A pair of elaborately carved +brackets,--a delicate rustic footstool, trimmed with acorns and +cones,--a wooden screw pincushion, with a flaming red velvet top,--a +case of scissors, pretty enough to have come from anybody, declared the +trade of the sender by the black finger marks on the brown wrapper, and +a most mysteriously compiled address. One of the old sailors who had +crossed with Mr. Linden long ago, sent by Pet's hands a stuffed +tropical bird of gorgeous colours; a woman who had once been upper +servant in his mother's house, sent by the same messenger a white +toilet cushion, made exactly after one that had belonged to her +mistress and which she had been allowed to keep. It was worth while to +see Mr. Linden examine these things,--every name was familiar to him, +every one called up some story or recollection. Alternating with these, +came richer presents,--books and vases and silver; then from the poor +people in and about Pattaquasset, a couple of corn husk mats, a nest of +osier baskets. The children brought wild flowers and wild strawberries, +the fishermen brought fish, till Mrs. Derrick said, "Child, we might as +well begin to lay down for winter!" + +Ency Stephens, having got Reuben to bring her two fine long razor +shells, had transformed them into a pincushion. This she sent, with a +kiss, by Mr. Linden. + +"I half promised her that she might come before the rest of the world +to-morrow, Faith," he said. "She never saw any one married, and has the +greatest desire to see you--and I said if you were willing, Reuben +should bring her here at one o'clock." Faith was just then exploring +the contents of a new package--or rather two: one of as many spools of +white thread as she had scholars in her little class, (presented by +Robbie Waters,) the other a wee far-sent carved box of curled maple. +She looked up with wet eyes. + +"Oh let her come, Endecott--I should like to have her here." + +Faith had been living in a strange atmosphere this week. The first +presents that came simply pleased and amused her to a great degree; +Judge Harrison's and his daughter's she saw with a strong admixture of +painful feeling. But as tokens from rich and poor began to throng +in--not of respect for her wedding-day so much as of respect and love +for Mr. Linden,--Faith's mood grew very tender and touched. Never +perhaps, since the world stood, did anybody receive wedding presents +from friends known and unknown with a more gentle and humble +heart-return to the senders. There was no least thing of them all that +Faith did not dearly value; it told her of something so much better +than the gifts, and it signified of a link that bound her with that. +How beautiful to her eyes the meanest of all those trifles did seem! +and for the rest, she was as quick to be delighted with what was really +beautiful and glad of what would be really useful, as any sensible +child could have been. So the amusement with which the week began +changed into a grave, loving, and somewhat timid appreciation of each +new arrival. + +Meanwhile, on Faith's table stood a little silver saucepan sent by Mrs. +Somers with the sage remark that she would want it for others if not +for herself; and near by, a beautiful butter cup and knife from Mrs. +Stoutenburgh. With the butter cup trotted down a little mountain pony, +with the daintiest saddle and bridle that the Squire could find for +money. + +Miss Linden's love had chosen for itself sundry channels; from the +silver knives--of all sorts--which made their appearance now, to +various comforts, great and small, which were to await her brother and +sister in their new home. In those Mrs. Iredell too had a share; her +present token was a silver tea-service, whereon the chasing developed +itself in sprays of mignonette. A mark of attention which Mr. Linden at +least appreciated. + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + + + +It was very early indeed in the still sweet morning of Thursday, when +Faith threw open the windows and blinds of the sitting-room. No one was +abroad, and not even a wind moving. The leaves of the trees hung +motionless; except where a bird stirred them; the dawn was growing +slowly into day; sweet odours called forth by the dew, floated up to +the windows, and the twitter and song of the birds floated in. The +freshness and stillness and calmness of all the earth was most sweet. +Faith could not read; she knelt upon a low cushion at the open window +and leaned her arms upon the sill to look out, and breathe, and think +and pray. The morning was not unlike her. She was as fresh, and as +grave, and as still; and there was a little flutter now and then too in +her heart, that went with nothing worse than the song of the birds, +though it stirred something more than the leaves of the branches. So +Mr. Linden found her. + +So she met them all at breakfast, with the same unready eyes and lips +that Mr. Linden had seen before. It was odd how Faith seemed to have +put off the full realization of Thursday till Thursday came. After +breakfast she was making her escape, but was detained before she +reached the staircase. What it was that Mr. Linden fastened in her +dress, Faith could not have told; neither did his words tell her. + +"You must not think me extravagant, Mignonette,--these are some old +gems of mine which I want you to wear in this form." He gave her one +grave kiss and let her go. Faith sped up stairs; and with a fluttering +heart went to see what Mr. Linden had done.--Yes, they were +gems,--clear, steadfast, as the eternal truth which they signified, the +blue sapphires shone upon Faith's white dress. + +Faith was alone; and she sat before the glass an odd long while, +studying the brooch where Mr. Linden had placed it. Her head upon her +hand, and with much the same sort of face with which she used long ago +to study Pet's letters, or some lesson that Pet's brother had set her. +From the sapphires Faith turned to her Bible. She was not, or would not +be interrupted, till it was time to attend to business. + +The first business was presented for her attention by Miss Linden, who +came in, basket in hand. There was no need to ask what it was, such a +breath of orange flowers and roses filled the room. She found Faith +ready; her hair dressed as it always was; her mind too, to judge by +appearances. Only Faith was a little more quiet than usual. With the +very quietness of love and sympathy, Pet did her part; with the +swiftest fingers, the most noiseless steps. Silent as Mrs. Derrick or +Faith herself, only a sparkle of the eyes, a pretty flush on the +cheeks, said that she viewed the matter from a greater distance. And +yet hardly that, so far as one of the parties was concerned. Never +putting her hand forward where Mrs. Derrick's liked to be, it was most +efficient in other places. Both used their skill to put the soft muslin +safely over Faith's smooth hair, but then Mrs. Derrick was left to +fasten and adjust it--Pet applied herself to adjusting the flowers. How +dainty they were: those tiny bunches! sprays of myrtle and orange +flowers, or a white rose-bud and a more trailing stem of ivy geranium; +the breast-knot just touched with purple heliotrope and one blush rose. +Kneeling at her feet to put on the rosetted slippers, Pet looked up at +her new sister with all her heart in her eyes. And Faith looked down at +her--like a child. + +She had been dressed in Pet's room--her own, as being larger and more +commodious than the one where Faith had stowed herself lately; and when +the dressing was done she sat down by the open window, and with the odd +capriciousness of the mind at certain times, thought of the day when +Mr. Linden had thrown her up the cowslip ball,--and in the same breath +wondered who was going to take her down stairs! + +But she sat quiet, looking as fair in her soft robe with its orange +flowers as if they and she had been made for each other. Faith's hair, +in its rich colour, was only dark enough to set off the tender tints of +her flowers and dress; it wanted neither veil nor adornment. The very +outlines of her figure betokened, as outlines are somewhat apt to do, +the spirit within; without a harsh angle or line. And nothing could be +too soft, or strong, or pure, to go with those eyes. She sat looking +out into the orchard, where now the noonday of summer held its still +reign--nothing there but the grass and the trees and the insects. The +cowslips were gone; and Mr. Linden---- + +Pet finished all that had been left unfinished of her own dress, then +in her rose-coloured summer silk, white gloves in her hand, white +flowers on her breast, she came and stood by Faith. Mrs. Derrick had +gone down stairs. It was close upon one o'clock now; the shadows were +losing their directness and taking a slant line, the labourers were +coming back to their work, standing about and taking off their coats, +waiting for the clock to strike. Miss Linden stood drawing on her +gloves. Faith gave her one swift glance, which rested for a second on +her face with a look of loving gratitude. A flush rose to her cheek, as +if it might have been the reflection of Miss Linden's dress; but it was +not that, for it paled again. + +One o'clock! + +It would have seemed a less weird sort of thing if the clock had made a +little more fuss,--twelve strokes, or even eleven, would have been +something tangible; but that one clang--scarce heard before it was +gone, dying away on the June breeze,--what a point of time it seemed! +The waves of air were but just at rest, when Mrs. Derrick opened the +door and came in; her black dress and white cap setting off a face and +demeanour which, with all their wonted sweet placidness, and amid all +the tender influences of the day, kept too their wonted energy. + +"Come, pretty child!" she said. + +Faith was ready, and followed her mother without a question. In the +hall Mr. Linden stood waiting for her, and she was given into his care; +though again Faith lost the look which passed between the two,--she saw +only the startling white of Mr. Linden's gloves. He handed her down +stairs, then gave her his arm and took her in; Mrs. Derrick going +first, and Pet following. + +There were but six or eight people there. On one side sat Mrs. Iredell +in her rich dress; the rest were standing, except little Ency Stephens, +who was in one of her perched-up positions by the window. Mr. Somers +was lingering about _his_ position, his wife and Mr. and Mrs. +Stoutenburgh were opposite to Mrs. Iredell. Reuben Taylor furthest back +of all, in the shadow of Ency's window. Her little cry was the only +sound as they came in, and that hardly louder than a sigh of delight. + +Faith did not hear it nor look at anybody. Yet she did not look +dismayed at all nor abashed. A piece of very timid gravity the person +nearest her knew her to be; but hardly any person further off. A very +lovely mingling of shy dignity and humility was in her face and air as +she stood before Mr. Somers; those who saw it never forgot. + +Except I must that same Mr. Somers! He saw only a pretty bride, whose +orange flowers and roses were very sweet. He had seen many pretty +brides before, and orange flowers were not new to him. And he +pronounced his part of the service which followed, with gratification, +certainly. Mr. Somers was always gracious, and to-day he was admiring; +but yet with no more sense of what he was about than when a hundred +times before he had pronounced it for--very different people! + +However, there is a great system of compensations in this world; and on +this occasion there was in other members of the party so much sense of +what was doing, that it mattered little about Mr. Somers' want of it. +It mattered nothing to Faith, how his words were spoken; nobody that +heard them forgot how _hers_ were--the sweet clear sounds of every +syllable; only that once or twice she said "yes" where by established +formula she should have said the more dignified "I do." Perhaps "yes" +meant as much. Those who heard it thought it did. + +For Mr. Linden, his senses not being troubled by shyness, just because +his own heart was so thoroughly in what he was about he did perceive +the want of heart in Mr. Somers. And, in the abstract, it did not suit +his notions that even a man who had married five hundred other people +should put such questions to Mignonette, or to him, in a commonplace +way. So far his senses perceived, but Mr. Somers could reach no +further. One touch of Faith's hand had banished the officiate to +another planet; and the vow to love, cherish, and honour, was taken, +word for word, deep in his own heart; the grave, deliberate accents of +assent seeming to dwell upon each specification. Yes, he took her "for +better for worse, in sickness or health, for richer for poorer," every +word was like the counting over of gold to him, it was all "richer." +Even the last words, the limit fixed, shone with light from another +world. "Till death shall you part;" yes, but to them death would be but +a short parting. And standing side by side there with the blessing of +his earthly life, Mr. Linden thanked God in his heart for the future +"life and immortality" to which He had called them both. + +Mysterious is the way in which events are telegraphed from the inside +of a house to the exterior thereof. Hardly were Mr. Somers' last words +spoken, Faith was not yet out of Mr. Linden's hands, when there came a +peal from the little white church as if the bell-ringing of two or +three Sundays were concentrated in one. Much to the surprise of Mr. +Somers; who, to speak truth, rather thought the bells were his personal +property, and as such playing truant. But in two seconds the other bell +chimed in; and all that could ever be known, was, that Phil Davids and +Joe Deacon had been seen in closer attendance on the two churches than +they were wont to be week days. Meantime the bells rang. + +It was done; and those downcast eyes must be lifted up, if they could. +But Faith was not unlike her usual manner. The slight air of timidity +which sat with such grace upon her was not so very unusual; and that +besides touched only or mainly one person. With blushing quietness she +let her friends kiss and congratulate her. It was rather kiss and +caress her; for they came about her, that little bevy of friends, with +a warmth that might have thawed Mr. Somers. Mrs. Derrick and Pet glad +and silent, Reuben Taylor very shy, the Stoutenburghs in a little furor +of interest which yet did not break pretty bounds. And then Faith went +up to Ency where she sat by the window, and gave her two kisses, very +grave and sweet. + +"How beautiful you are, ma'am!" was the child's truthful comment. + +"Do you know who 'Miss Faith' is now, Ency?"--"Yes sir," the child +said, then shy of speaking it out, "Stoop down and I'll tell you." + +Mr. Linden bent his head to hear the whisper, giving her a kiss in +return, and then carried Faith off to the next room; where presently +too the little lame girl was perched up at such a table as she had +never dreamed of before. + +It was a pretty gathering, both on the table and around it. The party +of friends, few enough to be choice, were good and different enough to +be picturesque; and had among them a sufficient amount of personal +advantages to be, as Ency said, "beautiful." The table itself was very +plain with regard to china and silver; but fruit is beautiful, and +there was an abundance of that. Coffee of course; and cream, yellow as +gold, for coffee and fruit both. There were more substantial things, to +serve as substitutes for dinner, attesting Mrs. Derrick's good +housekeeping at once, and the loving remembrance of friends. There had +been little need to do much in the house. Mrs. Iredell had taken the +wedding cake into her charge, which Mrs. Stoutenburgh not knowing had +taken it into hers, and into her hands as well; so Faith had both the +bought cake, of the richest and best ornamented to a point, and the +home-made; with plain icing indeed, but wherein every raisin had been +put with a sweet thought. + +"This is--ha!--a very agreeable occasion!" said Mr. Somers, smiling at +the ornamented plum cake which was before him. "I--a--really, I don't +see, Mrs. Derrick, how anything could be improved for the pleasure of +the party. We have done a good thing, and to good people, and it's been +well done;" (Mr. Somers vaunted himself), "and in a good +time,--ha--this is the prettiest month in the year, Mr. Linden; and now +we are all enjoying a pleasant sight, before us and around us, and I +enjoy my coffee also very much, Mrs Derrick. The only bad thing about +it is--ha--that it rather spoils one for the next occasion. I assure +you I haven't seen anything like it in Pattaquasset, since I have lived +here! I wasn't married here, Mrs. Stoutenburgh, take notice." + +"I hope you don't mean to say you saw anything that was on the table +the day _you_ were married, Mr. Somers!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh +irreverently. + +"Let's hear what you mean by well done,--let's hear, Mr. Somers," said +the Squire. + +"He means securely," said Mrs. Somers. + +"I feel sure," said Mr. Somers with exquisite significancy, "I feel +sure that _part_ of my audience were at no loss for the meaning of my +words. Experience, somebody says, is the best commentary--hey, Mr. +Linden? is it not so?"--"What, sir?" + +Mr. Somers laughed, gently. "I see you coincide with me in opinion, +sir." + +"I coincide with him in the opinion that it was well done to ring the +bells," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "Reuben, I guess that was your doing." + +"Never mind whose it was," said the Squire, "the bells were never put +to a better use, week days, I'll venture. Mr. Linden, won't that lady +by you let me give her another piece of chicken?"--"No, sir," came in a +low voice that had a private chime of its own. + +"Little bird," said Mr. Linden, softly, "do you know that all your +compeers live by eating?"--"Crumbs" said Faith with equal softness. + +"But of proportionate size!"--"Yes," said Faith. + +"You know," he said in the same low voice, "to go back to our old maxim +those bells may stand for the music, and we have certainly spoken a few +sensible words; but if you do not look up how will you find the +picture?"--She raised her eyes, but it was for a swift full glance up +into his face; she looked nowhere else, and her eyes went back to her +plate again. The involuntary, unconscious significance of the action +made Mr. Linden smile. + +"I have had mine now, Mignonette, and Ency spoke true." + +"How long does it take people to get married," came in a good-humoured +kind of a growl from the room they had left, the door to which was +ajar. "Ain't it done yet?" + +"There's Mr. Simlins, Endecott," whispered Faith, colouring. + +"Come in and see," said Squire Stoutenburgh. "Who wants to know?" +Wherewith the door was pushed open, and Mr. Simlins long figure +presented itself, and stood still. + +"What are you uneasy about, Mr. Simlins?" the Squire went on. "You may +go and shake hands with Mr. Linden, but don't congratulate anybody +else." The farmer's eye rested for a moment on Faith; then he went +round and shook hands with the bridegroom. + +"Is it done?" he asked again in the midst of this ceremony.--"Yes." + +"Past all help, Mr. Simlins," said Mrs. Somers. + +"I am glad, for one!" Mr. Simlins answered. "Mayn't I see this cretur +here? I wish you'd stand up and let me look at you." + +Faith rose up, he had edged along to her. He surveyed her profoundly. +"Be you Faith Derrick?" he said.--"Yes, sir." + +He shook _her_ hand then, holding it fast. "It's the true, and not a +counter," he remarked to Mr. Linden. "Now, if you'd only take +Neanticut, I could die content, only for liking to live and see you. +Where _are_ you going to take her to?"--"I am not sure yet." + +"I guess I don't want you at Neanticut," said the farmer, taking a cup +of coffee which Faith gave him. "Last Sunday fixed that. But there'll a +bushel of Neanticut nuts follow you every year as long as I'm a +Simlins, if you go to the Antipathies. No, I don't want anythin' to +eat--I've done my eatin' till supper-time." + +The door-knocker warned the party that they must not tarry round the +lunch-table, and before Mr. Simlins had a chance to say anything more +he had on his mind, the principal personages of the day were receiving +Judge Harrison and his daughter in the other room. Mr. Simlins looked +on, somewhat grimly, but with inward delight and exultation deep and +strong. Miss Sophy was affectionate, the judge very kind; the +congratulations of both very hearty; though Judge Harrison complained +that Mr. Linden was robbing Pattaquasset, and Sophy echoed the sorrow +if not the complaint. In the midst of this came in Miss Essie de Staff, +with a troop of brothers and sisters; and they had scarcely paid their +compliments when they were obliged to stand aside to make room for some +new comers. Miss Essie's eyes had full employment, and were rather +earnest about it. + +"She's beautifully dressed," she remarked to Mrs. Stoutenburgh, +evidently meditating a good deal more than her words carried. + +"Why, of course!" was Mrs. Stoutenburgh's quick response, "and so is +he. Don't be partial in your examinations." + +"Oh he, of course!" said Miss Essie, in the same manner. + +"I never saw two people set each other off better," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh. + +"Set each other off?" repeated Miss Essie. "Why he'd set anybody off! I +always admired him. Look at her! she hasn't an idea how to be +ceremonious." Faith had been speaking to Mrs. Iredell. Just then a +rosebud having detached itself from her dress, she went round the room +to Ency by her window and gave it to her. Near this window Miss Linden +had placed herself; the table before her covered with wedding cake and +white ribbon, Reuben Taylor at her side to cut and fold, her little +fingers daintily wrapping and tying up. Ency already held her piece of +cake and white ribbon, and with the promise of other pieces to take +home, watched Miss Linden's proceedings with interest. It was a busy +table, for thither came everybody else after cake and white ribbon. +Thither came Mrs. Stoutenburgh now, quitting Miss Essie. + +"Faith, what do you think Mr. Stoutenburgh asked me Sunday?"--"I don't +know. What?" asked Faith, with her half-shy, half free, very happy face. + +"You should have heard him!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, laughing, but +speaking in the softest of whispers. "You should have heard the dismal +way in which he asked me if Mr. Somers would go anywhere else, if he +could get a chance." + +Faith smiled, but evidently to her the question whether Mr. Linden +should stay in Pattaquasset had lost its interest. + +"O I can find her, never fear!" said Miss Bezac, followed by Mr. Linden +in Faith's direction. "Though I don't suppose you ever did fear +anything. And I do suppose, if I've thought once I have fifty times how +she'd look to-day, and I was right every time. Don't she look! I always +told her she didn't know what she wanted--and I'm sure she don't now." +With which Miss Bezac gave Faith as hearty a congratulation as she had +yet received. "Well," she said, turning to Mr. Linden, "do you wonder I +wanted to make it?"--"Not in the least." + +"But what do I want, Miss Bezac?" said Faith laughing and looking +affectionately at her old friend and fellow-work-woman. + +"Why I should think nothing," said Miss Bezac. "So it seems to me. And +talking of seams--didn't I do yours! Do you know I should have come +before, but I never can see two people promise to love each other +forever without crying--and crying always makes rusty needles--so I +wouldn't come till now, when everybody's laughing." Faith was an +exception, for her amusement grew demure. And Miss Essie approached. + +Now Miss Essie's black eyes, although bright enough, were altogether +gracious, and in a certain way even propitiatory. They were bent upon +the gentleman of the group. + +"Mr. Linden," said the lady with her most flattering manner, "I want to +know if you have forgiven me all my dreadful speeches that I made once." + +"Miss Essie, I never questioned your right to make them, therefore you +see my forgiveness has no place." Miss Essie looked as if her "study" +of Mr. Linden hadn't been thorough. + +"That's very polite," she said; "too polite. But do you think Mrs. +Linden will ever let me come into her house?" + +"Why not? It cannot be worse than you imagined." + +"Because," said Miss Essie, earnestly, "I want to come, and I am afraid +she will not ask me. I go everywhere, and wherever you are I shall be +sure to come there some time; and then I want to see you and see how +you live, and see if my theory was mistaken. But I drew it from +experience!" + +"Did you ever hear of the ice palace the little brook built for +himself?" said Mr. Linden.--"Lowell, oh yes!" + +"Mrs. Linden thinks she would like to try that." + +If ever black eyes were thoroughly puzzled, that were Miss Essie's. She +glanced from Mr. Linden to Faith, who had fallen back towards another +part of the room, but whose cheek gave token of her having heard and +noticed. Miss Essie's eyes came back; she looked a little mortified. + +"I see you have not forgiven me," she said. "But, Mr. Linden, I only +spoke of what I had seen. I had been unfortunate; and I am sure I +needn't confine myself to the past tense! I knew nothing, you know." + +"Miss Essie," he said, smiling, "your frame for the picture may be +correct, but the picture will be different. As you will see when you +come." + +"Then you will let me come?"--"I will let you come. Only if you hear +that Faith is not at home, do not feel sure of the fact till you have +looked in my study." + +Miss Essie's face for a moment was notable. She was in a certain way +satisfied, and yet it wore a sort of compound mortification +inexplicable very likely, to the lady herself, and perhaps, that only +an acute eye of another would have read. + +Before this dialogue had reached so much of a culmination, Mr. Simlins, +who had been standing looking at everything like a good-humoured bear, +made his way across the room, and through the people to Faith, where +she had shrunk back out of the way. + +"I can't stay here all the afternoon!" said he, "and I s'pose it aint +expected of me. Can't you step over yonder and let a man have a chance +to say a word to you, before I go?" + +Faith agreed to this proposition, not knowing that it was going to take +her literally into a corner; but to one of the further corners of the +room Mr. Simlins strode, and Faith went after him; and there he sat +down and she was fain to do likewise. Then he wasn't ready. + +"I had somethin' to say to you," said he, "but I don't know how to say +it!"--"Try, Mr. Simlins," said Faith, smiling. + +"How does the dominie manage to talk to you?" said he, looking at her. +"_I_ don't see how he can get on with it." + +Faith grew crimson, and grave. + +"Well," said the farmer, smiling a bit, "I s'pose I'll have to get it +out somehow. You see, Faith, the thing is, in my mind, I want you to +have something that'll make you--you and him too--think of Pattaquasset +and me once in a while. Now I'm goin' to give you that black heifer. If +you can, I hope you'll take her with you whereever you're goin'--if you +can't, why you may turn her into cash; but I guess you can. She's a +real Simlins--she'll run, if you don't keep a fence round her; but if +you treat her right, she'll give you all _your_ dairy'll want for some +time to come; and the very plague you'll be at to keep her shut up, +will make you think of me." + +"Dear Mr. Simlins!" Faith said with her eyes full, "there is no danger +about that!"-- + +"No!" said he rising; "and when you think of me I know you'll do +something else for me. Good-bye, till you get back again." Off he went. +Other people followed. The room had thinned a little, when Pet left her +table in Reuben's charge and came to Faith's corner. + +"Poor child," she said, "you must be tired. Faith, I shall defy +ceremony, and put you in Aunt Iredell's chair; she is going to lie +down. Oh! how did that man get here?--and George Alcott!" Pet faced +round upon Faith, folding her hands with an air of dismayed resignation. + +"What's the matter, Pet?"--"I thought I was safe here," said Miss +Linden. "Faith, I did not suppose ubiquitous people found their way to +Pattaquasset. You'll have to run the gauntlet of that man's +compliments, child, however, Endy is a pretty good safeguard." + +Before Faith could see much of what was going on, Mr. Linden was at her +side. "Mrs. Linden--_Mr. Motley_," was all he said; and Faith found +herself face to face with one of those two well-remembered strangers. +So well remembered that a slight glance at him was arrested, by what at +first she did not recognize, and unconsciously she gave Mr. Motley for +a second a look sufficiently like what he had seen before to identify +her. That second brought it all back. A blush of most rosy beauty came +upon Faith's face, and her eyes fell as if no one was ever to see them +again. Mr. Motley's eyes, on the contrary, expanded. But the whistle +which rose politely to his lips, was held in polite check--by Mr. +Linden's presence or some other consideration--and with no further sign +than an under breath "Linden!" Mr. Motley gave the bride his hand, +claiming that privilege in easy, musky words, on the score of old +acquaintanceship with the bridegroom. + +"I trust Mrs. Linden has been well since I last (and first!) had the +pleasure of seeing her? Apart from the occasion--it seems to me that +she is looking even better than then--though _then_ I should not have +believed that possible." + +"It is a long time, sir," Faith said gravely. + +"Linden," said Mr. Motley in a sort of aside, "even your symmetrical +taste must be satisfied!" + +"With what?" said Mr. Linden. Which rather shortly--put question +brought Mr. Motley to a stand. Much as when one pushes on into daylight +through the filmy finespun work of a spider, that respectable insect +looks about, considering where he shall begin anew. + +"It is so long," said Mr. Motley with soft emphasis, "that I could +hardly have hoped to be remembered." + +"If I recollect right," said Mr. Linden, "if you did not misstate the +case, it was the charms of your conversation that made the impression." + +"You are the most inconvenient person to talk to!" said Mr. Motley with +a glance at the handsome face. "Like a quicksand--closing around one. +Mrs. Linden, do you not find it so? Ah George!--talking to Miss Pet as +usual. Permit me--Mrs. Linden, Mr. Alcott. George, you cannot have +forgotten Mrs. Linden?" That George had not was very clear. + +And that Faith had not forgotten, was very clear. She lifted her eyes +once more, to see if the second _was_ the second; and then stood with +the most exquisite cheeks, though perfectly quiet. Her gloves had not +been put on again since the lunch, and the hand that held them bore +also the ring which had been the gentlemen's admiration. + +"Now what do you think, George," said Mr. Motley, "of Linden's letting +me tell Julius Harrison that whole story, and never giving the least +hint that he knew the lady referred to? Except, yes once indeed, I do +remember, Mrs. Linden, his face took a warm reflection of the subject, +but I thought that was due to my powers as a colourist." + +"You couldn't high-colour that picture," said Mr. Alcott, in a tone +Faith remembered well. "Mrs. Linden, I hope we are to see you at +Newport." + +Faith felt in a tumult with all these "Mrs. Lindens." But all that +seemed unquiet about her, besides her cheeks, was the flashing ring. + +"Well, we must tear ourselves away from this place of fascination," +said Mr. Motley. "I believe, Mrs. Linden, we ought to apologize for our +intrusion, but it was an old saying among this gentleman's friends that +he never would submit to 'bonds and imprisonments'--(there goes the +Bible again!) and some of them had a long-standing permission to come +and believe their eyes if such an event ever should take place. I can +hardly, now!" + +"Why do you, sir?" Faith asked simply. + +"Really, madam, because I can't help it! One look at you, Mrs. Linden, +is enough. In some circumstances all a man can do is to surrender!" + +"He needn't till he's summoned," said George Alcott shortly. Though +whether he had acted so wisely himself was a question, as Mr. Linden +said amusedly after they were gone. + +Faith turned away, feeling as if she had rather more than enough, and +occupied herself with Reuben and Ency again. Then came in Farmer Davids +and his wife, and Phil. Phil was forthwith in a state of "glamour;" but +Faith brought him to the table and gave him cake and discoursed to him +and Reuben; while Mrs. Davids talked to Mrs. Derrick in wonderful +delighted admiration; and the farmer as usual fixed upon Mr. Linden. + +"We had the uncommon pleasure of hearin' you speak last Sunday, sir," +said Mr. Davids with great seriousness. "I sha'n't forget it, what you +said. And you don't know where you're going to fix yourself, sir?" + +"Not certainly." + +"I would rather than half what I sell off the farm, that it was going +to be where I could be within reach of you, sir! But wherever 'tis +Phil, and I, we consulted how we could contrive to show our sense of +this day; we're plain folks, Mr. Linden, and we didn't know how to fit; +but if you'll let us know where you're goin' to be, Mrs. Davids she +wants to send your wife a cheese, and there's some of Phil's apples, +and I want you to have some Pattaquasset flour to make you think of us. +And if you'll only think of us every year as long as they come, it's +all I ask!" It was said with the most honest expression of struggling +regard, and respect, that wanted to show itself. + +Then Mr. Linden was claimed by a new comer. Sam Stoutenburgh, fresh +from College, Quilipeak, and the tailor, presented himself. Now it was +rather a warm day, and trains are not cool, and haste is not a +refrigerator, nevertheless Sam's cheeks were high coloured! His +greeting of Mr. Linden was far less off-hand and dashing than was usual +with this new Junior; and when carried off to Mrs. Linden, Sam (to use +an elegant word) was "flustered." + +"Miss Faith," he began. "No I don't mean that! I beg your pardon, but +I'm very glad to see you again, and I wish you were going to stay here +always." + +Faith laughed. "Will you stay here always yourself, Sam?" + +"O I don't know," said Sam. "It's a while before I've got to do +anything yet. But Miss Faith--I mean! since you will go, won't you +please take this?" and Sam presented a tiny box containing a pretty +gold set cornelian seal, engraved with a spirited Jehu chariot running +away! "It'll remind you of a day _I_ shall never forget," said Sam both +honestly and sentimentally. If Mr. Linden could have helped Faith +answer, he would! + +Faith's face was in a quiver, between laughter and very much deeper and +stronger feeling; but she shook Sam's hand again gratefully.--"I shall +never forget it, Sam, nor what you did for me that day. And I hope +you'll come and see me somewhere else, some time." + +Then Mr. Linden spoke. "No one can owe you so much for that day's work +as I, Sam; and since she is running away again you must do as you did +then, and find her." + +Sam was somewhat touched and overwhelmed, and went off to talk to +Reuben about Miss Linden's dress. A little while longer and the room +was cleared. The two collegians came last of all to say good-bye, +Reuben lingering behind his friend. + +"You know," said Mr. Linden, holding the boy's hand, "you are coming to +study with me, Reuben, if I live; we will not call it good-bye. And I +shall expect to see you before that in vacation." + +"And you know, Reuben," said Faith, very low, "you have been a brother +to me this great while." + +Reuben looked down, trying for words. Then meeting Faith's eyes as he +had done that very first time--what though his own were full--he said, +"I am not sorry, ma'am, I am glad: so glad!" he repeated, looking from +her face to Mr. Linden's. But his eyes fell then; and hastily clasping +the hand she held out to him, he bent his face to Mr. Linden's and +turned away. One quick step Mr. Linden took after him, and they left +the room arm in arm, after the old fashion. + +With Mr. Linden, when he came back, was an oldish gentleman, +silver-haired, with a fresh ruddy face; not very tall, _very_ +pleasant-looking. Pet's exclamation was of joy, this time, and she ran +forward to meet him. Then Mr. Linden brought him up to Faith. +"Mignonette, this is my dear friend, Mr. Olyphant." And Mr. Olyphant +took both her hands and kissed her on both cheeks, as if he meant to be +her friend too: then looked at her without letting go. "Endecott!" he +said, turning to Mr. Linden, "whatever you undertake you always do +well!" And he shook Faith's hands again, and told her he could wish her +joy with a clear conscience. + +The timid little smile which this remark procured him, might have +confirmed the old gentleman in his first-expressed opinion. Mr. +Olyphant studied her a minute, not confusingly, but with a sort of +touched kindliness. + +"_What_ do you call her, Endecott?" he said.--"Any sweet name I can +think of," said Mr. Linden, smiling, "just now, Mignonette." Which +remark had a merciless effect upon Faith's cheeks. + +"It suits her, Mr. Olyphant," said Pet. + +"So I see, Miss Pet. Do you think I have lost my eyes? Endecott, are +you going to bring her to the White Mountains?"--"I think so, sir: that +is my present inclination." + +"How would you like it, Mrs. Linden?"--"I think I should like it, sir." + +"Not afraid of the cold?"--Faith's smile clearly was not afraid of +anything. So was her answer. + +"You must have a house midway on the slope," said Mr. Olyphant; "half +your parish above your heads, half at your feet: and you will have +plenty of snow, and plenty of work, and not much else, but each other. +Endecott's face says that is being very rich but he always was an +unworldly sort of fellow, Mrs. Linden; I don't think he ever saw the +real glitter of gold, yet." + +Did her eyes? But they were unconsciously looking at riches of some +kind; there was no poverty in them. "I like work, sir." + +"Do you think she could bear the cold, Mr. Olyphant? how are the +winters there? That is what I have thought of most." + +"I am no more afraid of the cold than you are, Endecott." How gently +the last word was spoken! But Faith clearly remembered her lesson. + +Mr. Linden smiled. "She is a real little Sunbeam," he said. "You know +they make light of cold weather." + +"Light of it in two ways," said Mr. Olyphant. "No, I don't think you +need fear the winters for her; we'd try and protect her." + +"Do you see how much good the Sunbeam has done him, Mr. Olyphant?" said +Pet.--"I see it, Miss Pet; it does me good. I meant to have been here +to see you married, Endecott, and missed the train. I shall miss it +again, now, if I am not careful. But you must come up and stay with us, +and we'll arrange matters. Such neighbours may tempt me to winter in +the mountains myself, and then I shall take charge of you, Miss Pet." + +"I should like that," said Pet. + +"I see, my dear Mrs. Linden," said Mr. Olyphant, smiling at her, "I see +you follow one of the old Jewish laws." + +"What is that, sir?"--"You know it was required of the Jews that they +should bear the words of the law 'as frontlets between the eyes'. +Now--if you will forgive me for saying so--in your eyes is written one +of the proverbs." + +"Look up, Mignonette, and let me see," said Mr. Linden. But oddly, +Faith looked down first; then the eyes were lifted. + +"Is truth a proverb?" said Pet laughing.--"O you see too many things +there!" said Mr. Olyphant,--"this is what I see, Endecott--'The heart +of her husband doth safely trust in her.'" + +A little veil of shyness and modesty suddenly fell around Faith. Even +her head drooped. But Mr. Linden's lips touched the fair brow between +those very fair eyes. + +"I cannot praise your discernment, sir," he said. "It is not more true +than evident." + +"I cannot half congratulate either of you," said Mr. Olyphant, smiling, +"so I'll go. Good-bye, Miss Pet--remember next winter. Mrs. Linden, we +shall expect to see you long before that time. Let me have a word with +you, Endecott." And Faith was again left alone, entirely this time, for +Miss Linden went up stairs to attend Mrs. Iredell. + +As they turned to go out, Faith turned the other way, and sat down, +feeling overwhelmed. Everything was very still. Pet's light steps +passed off in the distance; through the open windows came the song of +kildeers and robins, the breath of roses, the muslin-veiled sunshine. +Then she heard Mr. Olyphant's carriage drive off, and Mr. Linden came +back. Faith started up, and very lovely she looked, with the timid +grace of those still dyed cheeks and vailed brow. + +"My poor little tired Mignonette!" he said as he came up to her. Then +lifted her face, and looking at it a moment with a half smile, pressed +his lips again where they had been so lately. But this time that did +not satisfy him. + +"Endy," she said presently, "please don't praise me before other +people!" + +"What dreadful thing did I say?" inquired Mr. Linden, laughing. "Do you +know I have hardly seen my wife yet?"--To judge by Faith's face, +neither had she. + +"If I speak of her at all I must speak the truth. But Mr. Olyphant +knows me of old; he will not take my words for more than they are +worth." + +A slight commentary of a smile passed, but Faith did not adventure any +repartee. + +"Are you very tired?"--"Oh no!" + +"Little bird!" said Mr. Linden, holding her close. "What sort of a +sweet spirit was it that said those words at my side this morning?" + +There was no answer at first; and then, very quaint and soft the +words--"Only Faith Derrick." + +"'Only.'--Faith, did you hear my parting direction to Miss +Essie?"--"Yes." + +"Do you agree to it, Mrs. Linden?" + +He had spoken that name a good many times that day, and to be sure her +cheeks had more or less acknowledged it; but this time it brought such +a rush of colour that she stooped her face to be out of sight. + +"Do you want Miss Reason to answer that question, sir?"--"No, nor Miss +anybody." + +"Prudence would say, there are shortcakes," said Faith. + +"Where?"--"In--hypothesis." + +"If your shortcakes outweigh my study, Faith, they will be heavier than +I ever saw them!" + +"You wouldn't take Reason's answer," said Faith. + +"What would it have been?" + +She looked up, a swift little laughing glance into his face. + +"Parlez, Madame, s'il vous plaît." + +Her look changed. "You know, Endy, I would rather be there than +anywhere else in the world." + +It moved him. The happiness to which his look bore witness was of a +kind too deep for words. + +"Do you know, love, if we had been going at once to our work in the +mountains, I should have asked a great many people to come here to-day." + +"Would you? why, Endy?"--"To let them see my wife. Now, I mean to take +her to see them." + +Faith was willing he should take her where he pleased, though she made +no remark. Her timidity moved in a small circle, and touched +principally him. Mingling with this, and in all she did, ever since +half past one o'clock to-day, there had been a sort of dignity of grave +happiness; very rare, very beautiful. + +"I wonder if you know half how lovely and dear you are?" said Mr. +Linden, studying the fair outlines of character, as well as of feature. +But Faith's eye went all down the pattern of embroidery on her white +robe, and never dared meet his. "Have you any idea, little Mignonette +of sweetness, after what fashion that proverb is true?" + +She looked up, uncertain what proverb he meant; but then immediately +certain, bent her head again. Faith never thought of herself as Mr. +Linden thought of her. Movings of humility and determination were in +her heart now, but she knew he would not bear to hear her speak them, +and her own voice was not just ready. So she was only silent still. + +"What will make you speak?" said Mr. Linden, smiling. "I am like Ali +Baba before the storehouse of hid treasure. Is this the 'Sesame' you +are waiting for?" he added, raising her face and trying two or three +persuasive kisses. + +"There was nothing in the storehouse," said Faith laughingly. "No words +I mean."--"I am willing to take thoughts." + +"How?"--"Which way you like!" + +"Then you will have to wait for them, Endy." + +"Mignonette, I am of an impatient disposition." + +"Yes I know it." + +"Is it to be your first wifely undertaking to cure me?" he said, +laughing.--"It takes time to put thoughts into action," said Faith, +blushing.--"Not all thoughts, Mignonette." + +She coloured beautifully; but anything more pure and sweet than those +first wifely kisses of Faith could not be told. Did he know, had he +felt, all the love and allegiance they had so silently and timidly +spoken? She had reason to think so. + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + + + +In a low whitewashed room, very clean though little and plain, where +the breeze blew in fresh from the sea, Faith found herself established +Friday afternoon. Mr. Linden had promised to show her the surf, and so +had brought her down to a little village, long ago known to him, on the +New England shore; where the people lived by farming and fishing, and +no hotel attracted or held an influx of city life. It was rather late +in the day, for the journey had been in part off the usual route of +railway and steam, and therefore had been longer if not wearier. But +when Faith had got rid of the dust, Mr. Linden came to her door to say +that it would be half an hour to supper, and ask if she was too tired +to walk down to the beach. + +The shore was but a few hundred yards from the little farmhouse; green +grass, with interrupting rocks, extending all the way. Faith hardly +knew what she was corning to till she reached the brink. There the +precipitous rocks rose sheer a hundred feet from the bottom, and at the +bottom, down below her, a narrow strip of beach was bordered with the +billowy crest and foam of the sea. Nothing but the dark ocean and the +illimitable ocean line beyond; there was not even a sail in sight this +evening; in full uninterrupted power and course, from the broad east, +the swells of the sea rolled in and broke--broke, with their graceful, +grand monotony. + +The beach was narrow at height of tide; now the tide was out. +Fishermen's boats were drawn up near to the rocks, and steep narrow +pathways along and down the face of them allowed the fishermen to go +from the top to the bottom. + +"Can't we get down there?" said Faith, when she had stood a minute +looking silently. Her face showed an eager readiness for action. + +"Can you fly, little bird?"--"Yes--as well as the fishermen can!" + +"If you cannot I can carry you," said Mr. Linden.--And doubtless he +would have found some way to make his words good had there been need; +as it was, he only guarded her down the steep rocky way, going before +her and holding her hand in a grasp she would have been puzzled to get +away from. But Faith was light and free of foot, and gave him no +trouble. Once at the bottom, she went straight towards those in-coming +big waves, and in front of them stood still. The sea-breeze blew in her +face; the roar of the breakers made music in her ears. Faith folded one +hand upon the other, and stood motionless. Now and then the wind caught +the spray from some beaten rock and flung it in her face, and wave +after wave rose up and donned its white crest; the upstanding green +water touched with sunlight and shadow, and changing tints of amber and +olive, down which the white foam came curling and rushing--sweeping in +knots of seaweed, and leaving all the pebbles with wet faces. Mr. +Linden let her look without the interruption of a word; but he +presently put his arm round her, and drew her a little into shelter +from the strong breeze. It was a while before she moved from her steady +gaze at the water; then she looked up, the joy of her face breaking +into a smile. + +"Endecott, will you show me anything more grand than this?" + +"You shall tell me when you have seen the uprising mists of Niagara," +he answered, smiling, "or the ravines between snowcaps 'five thousand +summers old.'" + +Her eye went back to the sea. "It brings before me, somehow," she said +slowly, "all time, and all eternity! I have been thinking here of +myself as I was a little child, and as I shall be, and as I am," she +added, with her inveterate exactness, and blushing. "I seem to see only +the great scale of everything." + +"Tell me a little more clearly what you see," said Mr. Linden. + +"It isn't worth telling. I see everything here as belonging to God. The +world seems his great work-place, and life his time for doing the work, +and I--and you," she said, with a flash of light coming across her +face, "his work-people. And those great breaking waves, somehow, seem +to me like the resistless, sure, beautiful, doings of his providence." +She spoke very quietly, because she was bidden, evidently. + +"Do you know how many other things they are like?--or rather how many +are likened to them in the Bible?"--"No! I don't know the Bible as you +do." + +"They seem to be a never-failing image--an illustration suiting very +different things. 'The wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot +rest,' and then, 'O that thou hadst hearkened to me I then had thy +peace been as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea.'" + +"There is the endless struggle of human will and purpose against the +divine--'The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up +their voice; the floods lift up their waves. The Lord on high is +mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of +the sea.' 'Fear ye not me? saith the Lord: will ye not tremble at my +presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a +perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the waves thereof +toss themselves, yet can they not prevail: though they roar, yet can +they not pass over it?' And so in another place the image is reversed, +and God says, 'Behold I am against thee, O Tyrus, and will cause many +nations to come up against thee, as the sea causeth his waves to come +up.' Could anything be more forcible?" + +A look was Faith's answer; it spoke the kindled thoughts at work. + +"Then you know," Mr. Linden went on, "how often the troubles of God's +children are compared to the ocean; as David says, 'All thy waves are +gone over me.' But then the Lord answers to that, 'When thou passest +through the waters I will be with thee, and through the floods, they +shall not overwhelm thee;' and David himself in another place declares +it to be true--'O Lord God of hosts, who is a strong Lord like unto +thee? or to thy faithfulness round about thee? Thou rulest the raging +of the sea: when the waves thereof arise, thou stillest them.'--I +suppose," he added, thoughtfully, taking both her hands in his, "this +is one sense in which by-and-by 'there shall be no more sea'--except +that 'sea of glass, upon which they stand who have gotten the victory!'" + +Another look, a grave, full look, came to him from Faith; and grave and +soft her eye went back to the sea. The sunbeams were all off it; it was +dark and foamy. Speaking rather low, half to her half to himself, Mr. +Linden went on,--"'And they overcame by the blood of the Lamb, and by +the word of their testimony: and they loved not their lives unto the +death.'" + +Her look did not move. Mr. Linden's went with it for a minute or two, +but then it came back to her differently. + +"My darling, I am afraid to have you stay here any longer." + +"We can come again!" said Faith gleefully, as she turned away. "I want +to look at them a great deal." + +"We will come again and try how far a 'ladder' can reach from this low +sand." + +She looked back for another glance as she began to mount the rocky way. +The mounting was an easy matter, for Mr. Linden came close and took +hold of her in such fashion that she was more than half carried up. + +"Do you feel as if you had wings now?" he asked her, after a somewhat +quick "flight" up half the way. + +"Folded ones," said Faith, laughing and breathless. "I don't know what +sort yours can be! I can go up by myself, Endecott." + +"With folded wings, as you remark, Mrs. Linden. Do you remember that +infallible way of recognizing 'earth's angels,' when they are not +pluming themselves?"--"They never do plume themselves," said Faith, +stopping to look at him. + +"Not when they are carried!" + +Faith's laugh rolled down the rocks; and then as they reached the top +she grew timid and quiet, a mood which came over her whenever she +remembered her new position and name in the world. + +There is no room to tell all the seaside doings of those days; the surf +bathing, and fishing beyond the surf. A week passed there, or rather +more; then, Mr. Linden having business in New York, the "wooden horse" +went that way. We cannot follow all its travels. But we must stay with +it a day in the city. + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + + + +Everybody who has travelled on the great route from Pattaquasset to New +York, knows that the scenery is not striking. Pleasant it is, and +fresh, in fresh seasons of the year; cornfields and hayfields and +sparkling little rivers always make up a fair prospect: but, until the +towers of Quilipeak rise upon the sight, with their leafy setting of +green, there is nothing to draw much notice. And less, afterwards. The +train flies on, past numberless stopping-posts, over bridges, through +towns; regaling its passengers with hay, salt water, bony fish, and (in +the season) dust; until the matchless flats, marshes, pools, sights, +and smells crowd thick about Haarlem river, and lure the traveller on +through the sweet suburbs of New York. Hither, business demanded that +the "wooden horse" should come for a day or two; here they were to be +received by one of the many old friends who were claiming, all over the +country, a visit from Mr. Linden and his bride. Through the dark tunnel +the train puffed on, the passengers winking and breathing beneath the +air-holes, dark and smothered where air-holes were not; then the cars +ran out into the sunlight, and, in a minute more, two of the passengers +were transferred to the easy rolling coach which was in waiting for +them, and drove away. Past warm brick fronts and pavements; past radish +boys and raspberry girls; past oranges, pineapples, vegetables, in +every degree of freshness except fresh. Of all which, even the +vegetables, Faith's eyes took most curious and intent notice--for one +minute; then the Avenue and fruit stalls were left behind; the carriage +had turned a corner, and, in another minute or two, drew up before an +imposing front in Madison Square. And there, at the very steps, was a +little raspberry girl. How Faith looked at her! + +"Raspberries to-day, ma'am?" said the child, encouraged by the look, or +the sweet face.--"No, dear, I don't want any." + +Faith went gravely up the steps. It was her first introduction to New +York. But Mr. Linden's face wore a smile. There was no time to remark +on it, for the door opened and a second introduction awaited her. An +introduction to another part of the world. A magnificent house, every +square yard of which, perhaps, taken with its furniture and adornments, +had cost as much as the whole of Faith's old home. A palace of luxury, +where no want of any kind, material, could be known or fancied. In this +house they were welcomed with a great welcome by a stately lady, Mr. +Linden's old friend and his mother's; and by her family of sons and +daughters, who were in another style, and whose vivacious kindness +seemed disposed to take up Faith bodily and carry her off. It was a +novel scene for Faith, and she was amused. Amused too with the +overpowering curiosity which took the guise, or the veil, of so much +kindness, and beset her, because--Mr. Linden had married her. Yet Faith +did not see the hundredth part of their curiosity. Mr. Linden, whose +eyes were more open, was proportionably amused, both with that and with +Faith's simplicity, which half gratified and at least half baffled it. +The young ladies at last took Faith up to her room; and, after +lavishing all sorts of attentions upon her, and making various vain +efforts to understand her, gave her the information that a good deal of +company was expected to dinner, and left her, baffled and attracted +almost in an equal degree. + +They did not seem to have as puzzling an effect on Faith; for when Mr. +Linden came out of his own dressing-room, he found her ready, and +looking as fresh and cool as if she had just come up from the sands at +Bankhead. She was dressed in a light muslin, but no more elaborately +than she used to be at Pattaquasset; only that this time her ruffles +were laces. She was a little more dainty for the dinner-party. Mr. +Linden came with a knot of glowing geraniums--"Jewess," and +"Perfection," and "Queen of the Fairies;" which, bound together as they +were with white ribband, he first laid against her dress to try the +effect (well deserving his smile of comment) then put in her hand to +make fast. They set off all the quiet elegance of her figure after +their own style, which was not quiet. + +"Now, Mignonette," he said, "I suppose you know that I am to have the +pleasure of introducing my wife to sundry people?"--"I heard they were +coming," said Faith. + +"If you will only stand by and look on, it will amuse you very much." + +"It will amuse me anyway," said Faith, "if,"--and what a rose colour +came up into her face--"if, Endy, you are satisfied." + +Mr. Linden folded his arms and looked at her. "If you say anything +against my wife, Mrs. Linden, her husband will not like it--neither +will yours." + +"That is all I care about, not pleasing those two gentlemen," said +Faith, laughing. + +"Is that all? I shall report your mind at rest. Come, it is time this +little exotic should appear." Faith thought as she went with him, that +she was anything but an _exotic;_ she did not speak her thoughts. + +There was a large dinner company gathered and gathering; and the +"pleasure" Mr. Linden had spoken of--introducing his wife--was one +enjoyed, by him or somebody, a great many times in the course of the +evening. This was something very unlike Pattaquasset or anything to be +found there; only in Judge Harrison's house little glimpses of this +sort of society might be had; and these people seemed to Faith rather +in the sphere of Dr. Harrison than of his father and sister. People who +had rubbed off every particle of native simplicity that ever belonged +to them, and who, if they were simple at all--as some of them were--had +a different kind of simplicity, made after a most exquisite and refined +worldly fashion. How it was made or worn, Faith could not tell; she had +an instinctive feeling of the difference. If she had set on foot a +comparison, she would soon have come to the conclusion that "Mr. +Linden's wife" was of another pattern altogether. But Faith never +thought of doing that. Her words were so true that she had spoken, she +cared so singly to satisfy one person there, and had such an humble +confidence of doing it, that other people gave her little concern. She +had little need, for no word or glance fell upon Faith that did not +show the eye or the speaker won or attracted. The words and glances +were very many, but Faith never found out or suspected that it was to +see _her_ all this party of grand people had been gathered together. +She thought they were curious about "Mr. Linden's wife;" and though +their curiosity made her shy, and her sense of responsibility gave an +exquisite tenderness to her manner, both effects only set a grace upon +her usual free simplicity. That was not disturbed, though a good deal +of the time Faith was far from Mr. Linden's kelp or protection. A +stranger took her in to dinner, and among strangers she made her way +most of the evening. But though she was shy, Faith was afraid never but +of one person, nor much of him. + +For him--among old acquaintances, beset with all manner of inquiries +and congratulations--he yet heard her voice whenever it was possible, +and knew by sight as well as hearing all the admiration she called +forth. He might have said as at Kildeer river, that he found "a great +deal of Mignonette." What he _did_ tell her, when the evening was over, +was that people were at a loss how to name the new exotic. + +"How to name _me_, Endecott?"--"As an exotic." + +"I don't wonder!" said Faith with her merry little laugh. "Don't +philosophers sometimes get puzzled in that way, Endecott?"--"Scientific +philosophers content themselves with the hardest names they can find, +but in this case such will not suit. Though Dr. Campan may write you in +his books as 'Lindenethia Pattaquassetensis--exotic, very rare. The +flower is a double star--colour wonderful.'" + +Faith stopped to laugh. + +"What a blunder he will make if he does!" she said. "It will show, as +Mr. Simlins says--that he don't understand common vegetables." + +"Well translated, Mignonette. How will it show that, if you +please?"--"He has mistaken one for a trumpet creeper." + +"A scarlet runner, I suppose." + +"Was I?" said Faith seriously. + +"According to you. I am in Dr. Campan's predicament." + +"I should think _you_ needn't be," said Faith, simply. "Because you +know, Endy I never knew even how to climb till you showed me." + +Mr. Linden faced round upon her, the quick flashing eyes answering even +more than his. "Faith! what do you mean?" But his lips played then in a +rare little smile, as he said, very quietly, in his former position, +"Imagine Mignonette, with its full sweetness--and more than its full +colour--suddenly transplanted to the region where Monkeys and Geraniums +grow--I like to think of the effect." + +"I can't think of any effect at all," said Faith. "_I_ should look at +the Monkeys and Geraniums!" + +"Of course--being Mignonette. And clearly that you are; but then how +can Mignonette so twine itself round things?" + +Faith thought it did not, and also thought of Pet's charge about +"charming;" but she left both points. + +"Most climbers," said Mr. Linden, with a glance at her, "have but one +way of laying hold; but this exotic has all. There are the tendrils +when it wants support, and the close twining that makes of two lives +one, and the clasp of a hundred little stems that give a leaf or a +flower wherever they touch." + +"Endecott!" said Faith, with a look of astonished remonstrance and +amusement in one.--"What?" + +But the smile and blush with which Faith turned away bespoke her not +very much displeased; and she knew better by experience than to do +battle with Mr. Linden's words. She let him have it his own way. + +The next day business claimed him. Faith was given up to the kindness +and curiosity of her new friends. They made good use of their +opportunity, and their opportunity was a good one; for it was not till +late in the day, a little while before the late dinner hour, that Mr. +Linden came home. He found Faith in her room; a superbly appointed +chamber, as large as any three of those she had been accustomed to. She +was standing at the window, thoughtfully looking out; but turned +joyfully to meet Mr. Linden. Apparently he was glad too. + +"My dear little Mignonette! I feel as if I had not seen you for a week." + +"It has been a long day," said Faith; who looked rather, it may be +remarked, as if the day had freshly begun. + +"Mignonette, you are perfectly lovely! Do you think you will condescend +to wear these flowers?" said Mr. Linden, drawing her to a seat by the +table, and with one arm still round her beginning to arrange the +flowers he had thrown down there as he came in. + +Faith watched him, and then looked up. + +"Endecott you shouldn't talk to me so. You wouldn't like me to believe +you." + +Mr. Linden finished setting two or three ruby carnations in the green +and purple of heliotrope and sweet-scented verbena; then laid the bunch +lightly upon her lips and gravely inquired if they were sweet. + +"Yes," Faith said, laughing behind them. "You are not hungry?" + +"Why? and what of it?"--"You don't seem to remember it is near +dinner-time." + +"Dinner time is a myth. My dear, I am sorry I give you so much +uneasiness. I wish you could feel as composed about me as I do about +you. What have I done with that white ribband!--don't stir--it is in +some pocket or other." And the right one being found, Mr. Linden +unwrapped the piece of ribband and cut off what he wanted, remarking +that he could not get used to giving her anything but blue. + +"Well, why do you then?" said Faith.--"I feel in a subdued state of +mind, owing to reproofs," said Mr. Linden, with the white satin curling +round his fingers. "I may not tell anybody what I think of my wife!" + +Faith looked amused, and yet a soft glance left the charge and the +"reproof" standing. + +"I feel so composed about you," Mr. Linden went on, drawing his white +bows--Faith did think the eyes flashed under the shading lashes--"so +sure that you will never over-estimate me, much less speak of it. But +then you know, Mignonette, I never did profess to follow Reason." + +He was amused to see the little stir his words called up in Faith. He +could see it in the changing colour and rest less eye, and in one look +of great beauty which Faith favoured him with. Apparently the shy +principle prevailed, or Faith's wit got the better of her simplicity; +for she rose up gravely and laying her hand on the bunch of flowers +asked if she should put them on. + +"Unless you prefer my services." + +She sat down again immediately, with a face that very plainly preferred +them. Half smiling, with fingers that were in no haste about their +work, Mr. Linden adjusted the carnations; glancing from them to her, +trying them in different positions, playing over his dainty task as if +he liked it. The flowers in place, his full smiling look met hers, and +she was carried off to the glass "to see his wife." Hardly seen, after +all, but by himself. + +"She looks ready for dinner," said Faith. + +"Your eyes are only to look at," said Mr. Linden with a laughing +endorsement of _his_ thoughts, and putting her back in the dormeuse. +"Suppose you sit there, and tell me what efforts they have made in the +way of seeing, to-day." + +"Efforts to see all before them, which was more than they could," said +Faith. + +"What did they see? not me, nor I them, that I know." + +"That was another sort of effort they made," said Faith +smiling--"efforts to see what was _not_ before them. I watched, +whenever I thought there was a chance, but I couldn't see anything that +looked like you. We must have gone half over the city, Endecott; Mrs. +Pulteney took me all the morning, and her daughters and Mr. Pulteney +all the afternoon." + +"Know, O little Mignonette," said Mr. Linden, "that in New York it is +'morning' till those people who dine at six have had their dinner. + + "Like the swell of some sweet tune + Morning rises into noon,-- + +was written of country hours." + +"I guess that is true of most of the other good things that ever were +written," said Faith. + +Mr. Linden looked amused. "What do you think of this?-- + + And when the hours of rest + Come, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine, + Hushing its billowy breast-- + The quiet of that moment too is thine; + It breathes of Him who keeps + The vast and helpless city while it sleeps." + + +"I never saw the city when it was asleep," said Faith, smiling. "It +didn't look to-day as if it could sleep. But, Endecott, I am sure all +the pretty part of those words comes from where we have been." + +"The images, yes. But connect any spot of earth with heaven, by any +tie, and it must have a certain sort of grandeur. You have been working +in brick and mortar to-day, Mignonette, to-morrow I must give you a +bird's-eye view." + +Faith was silent a minute; and then said, "It don't look a happy place +to me, Endecott." + +"No, it is too human. You want an elm tree or a patch of dandelions +between every two houses." + +"That wouldn't do," said Faith, "unless the people could be less +ragged, and dirty, and uneasy; and their houses too. There's nothing +like it in Pattaquasset." + +"I have great confidence in the comforting and civilizing power of elm +trees and green grass," said Mr. Linden. "But Carlyle says 'Man is not +what you can call a happy animal, his appetite for sweet victual is so +enormous;' and perhaps New York suffers as much from the fact that +everybody wants _more_, as that some have too little and others too +much." + +"Do _these_ people want more?" said Faith softly. + +"Without doubt! So does everybody in New York but me." + +"But why must people do that in New York, when they don't do it in +Pattaquasset?" said Faith, who was very like mignonette at the moment. + +"The appetite grows with indulgence, or the possibility of it. Besides, +little bird, in Pattaquasset you take all this breeze of humanity +winnowed through elm branches. There, you know, 'My soul into the +boughs does glide.'" + +"No," said Faith; "it is not that. When my soul glides nowhere, and +there are no branches, either; in the Roscoms' house, Endecott--and +poor Mrs. Dow's, and Sally Lowndes',--people don't look as they look +here. I don't mean _here_, in Madison Square--though yes I do, too; +there was that raspberry girl; and others, worse, I have seen even +here. But I have been in other places--Mr. Pulteney and his sisters +took me all the way to the great stone church, Endecott." + +"Well, Sunbeam, it has been a bright day for every raspberry girl that +has come in your way. What else did you see there."--"I saw the church." + +"Not the invisible" said Mr. Linden, smiling, "remember that." + +"Invisible! no," said Faith. "There was a great deal of this visible." + +"What thoughts did it put in your head?"--"It was very--wonderfully +beautiful," said Faith, thoughtfully. + +"What else?"--"I cannot tell. You would laugh at me if I could. +Endecott, it didn't seem so much like a church to me as the little +white church at home." + +"I agree with you there--the less show of the instrument the sweeter +the music, to me. But the street in front of the church, so specially +filled with beggars and cripples, I never go by there, Faith, without a +feeling of joy; remembering the blind man who sat at the Beautiful gate +of the temple; knowing well that there is as 'safe, expeditious, and +easy a way' to heaven from that dusty side-walk, as from any other spot +of earth. The triumph of grace!--how glorious it is! _I_ cannot speak +to all of them together, nor even one by one, but grace is free! 'Not +by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts.' +Faith, I have been thinking of that all day!" + +She could see it in his face--in the flush on the cheek and the flash +in the eye as he came and stood before her. She could see what had been +all day before his eyes and mind; and how pain and sympathy and longing +desire had laid hold of the promise and rested there--"Ask and ye shall +receive." Unconsciously Faith folded her hands, and the least touch of +a smile in the corners of her mouth was in no wise contradictory of her +eyes' sweet gravity. + +"I saw them too," she said, in a low tone. "Endecott, I would rather +speak to them out there, under the open sky, if it wasn't a crowd--than +in the church?" + +"I should forget where I was, after I began to speak," said Mr. Linden; +"though I do love 'that dome--most catholic and solemn,' better than +all others." + +"Mr. Pulteney asked me how I liked the church," said Faith. + +"He did not understand your answer," said Mr. Linden smiling, "I know +that beforehand. What was it?"--"I think he didn't like it," said +Faith. "I told him it seemed to me a great temple that men had built +for their own glory and pleasure, not for the glory and pleasure of +God." + +"Since when, you have been to Mr. Tom Pulteney like a fable in ancient +Greek to one who has learned the modern language at school and +forgotten it." + +"He did not understand me," said Faith, laughing and blushing a little. +"And I was worse off; for I asked him several questions he could not +answer me. I wanted to go to the top, but he was certain I would be too +tired if I did. But I heard the chime, Endecott! that was beautiful. +Beautiful! I am very glad I was there." + +"I'll take you to the top" said Mr. Linden, "it will not tire me. +Faith, I have brought you another wedding present--talking of 'ancient' +things." + +"What is that, Endecott?" she said, with a bright amused face.--"Only a +fern leaf. One that waved a few thousand years before the deluge, and +was safely bedded in stone when the children of Israel passed through +the Red Sea. I went to see an old antiquarian friend this morning, and +out of his precious things he chose one for mine." And Mr. Linden laid +in her hand the little rough stone; rough on one side, but on the other +where the hammer had split it through, the brown face was smooth, and +the black leaf lay marked out in all its delicate tracery. + +"Endecott, what is this?" Faith exclaimed, in her low tones of +delight.--"A fossil leaf." + +"Of a fern? How beautiful! Where did it come from?" She had risen in +her delight, and stood by Mr. Linden at the dressing-table.--"This one +from Bohemia. Do you see the perfection of every leafet?" + +"How wonderful! how beautiful!" Faith repeated, studying the fossil. +"It brings up those words, Endecott:--'A thousand years in thy sight +are but as yesterday when it is past; or as a watch in the night.'" + +"Yes, and these--'The counsel of the Lord, that shall stand.' Compare +this fern leaf with the mighty palaces of Babylon and Nineveh. Through +untold ages this has kept its wavy fragile outline, _they_ are marked +only by 'the line of confusion and the stones of emptiness.'" + +Faith looked up, with such an eye of intelligence and interest as again +would have puzzled Mr. Pulteney. + +"Did your old antiquary send this to me, Endecott?" she said looking +down at it again.--"To you, darling." + +"I have seen nothing so good to-day, Endy. I am very glad of it." + +"Do you remember, Sunbeam, the time when I told you I liked stones? and +you looked at me. I remember the look now!" So did Faith, by the +conscious light and colour that came into her face, different from +those of three minutes ago, and the grateful recognition her eyes gave +to Mr. Linden. + +"I don't know much more now," she said, in very lowliness, "about +stones, but you can teach me, Endecott." + +"Yes, I will leave no stone unturned for your amusement," he said, +laughing. "Faith, if I were not so much afraid of you I should tell you +what you are like. What else have you seen?" + +"Tell me what I am like, Endecott." + +"What sort of consistency is that--to coax me when I don't tell you, +and scold me when I do?" + +"It's curiosity, I suppose," said Faith. "But it's no matter. I saw all +that strange place, Broadway, Endecott; we drove through the whole +length of it." + +"Well?" said Mr. Linden, throwing himself down in the arm-chair and +looking gravely up at her. But then the lips parted, not only to smile +but to sing a wild Scotch tune. + + "O wat ye wha that lo'es me, + And has my heart in keeping? + O sweet is she that lo'es me, + As dews o' summer weeping, + In tears the rosebuds steeping; + O that's the lassie o' my heart, + My lassie ever dearer; + O that's the queen o' womankind, + And ne'er a ane to peer her!" + + "If thou hast heard her talking, + And thy attention's plighted, + That ilka body talking + But her by thee is slighted, + And thou art all delighted. + O that's the lassie o' my heart, + My lassie ever dearer; + O that's the queen o' womankind, + And ne'er a ane to peer her!" + + +"Did you see anybody like that in Broadway, Faith?" + +Blushing how she blushed! but she would not say a word nor stir, to +interrupt the singing; so she stood there, casting a shy look at him +now and then till he had stopped, and then coming round behind him, she +laid her head down upon his shoulder. Mr. Linden laughed, caressing the +pretty head in various ways. + +"My dear little bird!" he said. Then presently--"Mignonette, _I_ have +been looking at fur cloaks." + +"Don't do such a thing again, Endy." + +"I shouldn't, if I could have quite suited myself to-day." + +"I don't want it. I can bear the cold as well as you." + +"Let it make up for something which you do want and haven't got, then; +you must bear the cold Polar fashion. But at present, there is the +dinner-bell." + +They went down; but with the fossil and the fur, Faith was almost taken +out of New York; and astonished Mr. Pulteney once or twice more in the +course of the evening, to Mr. Linden's amusement. + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + + + +The Hudson river railway, on a summer Saturday afternoon. Does +everybody know it? If not, let me tell the people who have not tried +it, or those more unfortunate ones who are tried by it, and driven into +the depths of newspapers and brown literature by the steam pressure of +mountains, clouds, and river, that it is glorious. Not on a dusty +afternoon, but when there has been or is a shower. Not the locomotive, +or the tender, or the cars, though the long chain has a sort of +grandeur, as its links wind into the bays and round the promontories, +express. But get a river-side seat, and keep your patience up the +lumbered length of Tenth Avenue, and restrain your impatience as the +train goes at half-stroke along that first bit of road where people are +fond of getting on the track; watch the other shore, meantime, or the +instructive market gardens on this; then feel the quickened speed, as +the engine gets her "head;" then use your eyes. Open your windows +boldly; people don't get cold from our North river air; never mind the +sun; hold up a veil or a fan; only look. See how the shore rises into +the Palisades, up which the March of Improvement finds such uncertain +footing: how the rising points of hill are rounded with shadow and +sunlight, and green from river to crown. See how the clouds roll softly +up on the further side, giving showers here and there--how the +white-winged vessels sail and careen and float. Look up the river from +Peekskill, and see how the hills lock in and part. Think of the train +of circumstances that rushed down Arnold's point that long ago morning, +where a so different train now passes. Mark the rounding outlines of +the green Highlands, and as you near Garrisons' let your eye follow the +sunbeam that darts down the little mill creek just opposite the tunnel. +Then on through those beloved hills, till they fall off right and left, +and you are out upon Newburgh bay in the full glory of the sunset. +After this (if you are tired looking) you may talk for a while, till +the blue heads of the Catskill catch your eye and hold it. + +The blue range was a dim outline--hardly that--when Faith reached her +journey's end that night. She could hear the dash of the river, and see +the brilliant stars, but all details waited for morning; and the +morning was Sunday. Balmy, cloudless, the very air put Faith almost in +Elysium; and between dreamy enjoyment, and a timid sense of her own new +name and position, she would have liked for herself an oriole's nest on +one of the high branches. Failing that, she seemed--as her hostess and +again an old friend of Mr. Linden's told him--"like a very rosebud; as +sweet, and as much shut up to herself." + +Truth to tell, she kept something of the same manner and seeming next +day. The house was very full, and of a very gay set of people; of whom +Faith's friend, Mr. Motley, was one. Faith met their advances +pleasantly, but she was daintily shy. And besides, the scene and the +time were full of temptations to dream over the out-of-door beauty. The +people amused her, but often she would rather have lost them in the +hills or the sunset; and was for various reasons willing that others +should talk while she looked. + +So passed the first two days, and the third brought an excursion, which +kept the whole party out till lunch-time. But towards the end of the +day Mr. Linden was witness to a little drama which let him know +something more of Faith than he had just seen before. + +It was near the time of dressing for dinner. Mr. Linden was already +dressed and had come to the library, where, in a deep recess on one +side of the window, he was busy with a piece of study. The window was +very large, and opened upon a green terrace; and on the terrace, in a +garden chair, just outside the open window, sat Faith; quietly and +intensely, he knew, enjoying the broad river and the mountain range +that lay blue in the sunlight a few miles beyond; all in the soft still +air of the summer day. She distracted Mr. Linden's thoughts from his +study. He could see her perfectly, though he was quite out of her view. +She was in one of the dainty little morning dresses he had sent her +from the place of pretty things; nothing could be more simple, and it +suited her; and she looked about as soft and still as the day. +Meanwhile some gentlemen had entered the library, and drew near the +window. Faith was just out of their range, and Mr. Linden was +completely hid in his recess, or doubtless their remarks would have had +a different bearing The remarks turned upon Faith, who was here as well +as in New York an object of curiosity to those who had known Mr. +Linden; and one of the speakers expressed himself as surprised that +"Linden" should have married her. + +"Wouldn't have thought it,--would you?" said Mr. Motley. "To be sure; +he's able to do all the talking." + +"She does very well for the outside," said another. "Might satisfy +anybody. Uncommon eyes." + +"Eyes!" said Mr. Motley. "Yes, she has eyes!--and a mouth. I suppose +Linden gets some good of it--if nobody else does. And after all, to +find a woman that is all eyes and no tongue, is, as you remark, +uncommon." + +"She's not quite stylish enough for him," said a third. "I thought +Linden would have married a brilliant woman." + +"He'll be a brilliant man, if you tell him that," said Mr. Motley. +"Corruscations, and so forth. I never thought I should see him +bewitched--even by a rose leaf monopoly." + +The conversation was interrupted. It had not been one which Mr. Linden +could very well break; all he could do was to watch Faith. He could see +her slightly-bent head and still face, and the colour which grew very +bright upon the cheek nearest him. She was motionless till the last +words were broken off; then, with a shy movement of one hand to her +cheek, covering it, she sprang away, as lightly as any bird she was +ever named after. + +Mr. Linden was detained in the library, where, as the dinner-hour drew +near, other members of the family began to gather. A group of these +were round the table, discussing an engraving; when Mr. Linden saw +Faith come in. He was no longer in the dangerous recess; but Faith did +not come near him; she joined the party at the table. Mr. Linden +watched her. Faith's dressing was always a quiet affair; to-day somehow +the effect was very lovely. She wore a soft muslin which flowed about +her in full draperies; with a breast-knot of roses on its white folds. +Faith rarely put on flowers that Mr. Linden had not given her. To-day +was an exception; and her white robe with no setting off but those +roses and her rich hair, was faultless. Not merely that; the effect was +too striking to be absolutely quiet; all eyes were drawn to her. + +The gentlemen whom she had heard speak were among the party; and no +eyes were more approving. Mr. Linden watched, as he might, without +being seen to watch. Faith joined not only the party, but the +conversation; taking her place in it frankly; showing no unwillingness +to give opinions or to discuss them, and no desire to avoid any subject +that came up. She was taking a new stand among these strangers. Mr. +Linden saw it, and he could guess the secret reason; no one else could +guess that there was anything to give a reason for, so coolly, so +naturally, it was done. But the stand was taken. Faith had not stepped +in the least out of her own bounds; she had abated not a whit of her +extreme modesty. She was never more herself, only it was as if she had +laid down a self-indulgent shyness which she had permitted herself +before, and allowed Mr. Linden's friends to become acquainted with Mr. +Linden's wife. But with herself! Her manner to-day was exceedingly like +her dress; the plainest simplicity, the purest quality, and the roses +blushing over all. It fascinated the gentlemen, every one of them. They +found that the little demure piece of gravity could talk; and talk with +a truth and freshness of thought too, which was like the rest of her, +uncommon and interesting, soft and free, at once. Faith went off to +dinner on the arm of one of her maligners, and was very busy with +company all the evening after, having little to do with Mr. Linden. + +She had escaped to her room earlier than he, however; and when he came +in she was sitting thoughtfully before the open window. She rose up +directly, and came to him, with the usual smile, and with a little +hidden triumph dancing in her eyes, and an odd wistful look besides of +affection and humility. She only came close to him for a caress, +without speaking. Mr. Linden took her face in both hands and looked at +it--a beautiful smile mingling with the somewhat moved look of his own. + +"What a child you are!" + +The colour rushed all over Faith's cheeks. + +"Why?--" she whispered. The answer to which, cheeks and brow, and lips, +might spell out as best they could. + +"Do you know why I did not come with your flowers, +Mignonette?"--"Before dinner?--no. I got some for myself." + +"I was on my way for them, and was entrapped and held fast. My little +Mignonette! I never thought to have you put your hand to your cheek in +that way again!" + +"Again, Endecott! Who told you?" said Faith, as usual jumping to +conclusions. + +"Who told me what, my beauty?" + +Faith's eye fell in doubt, then looked up searchingly. + +"I believe you know everything; but you don't look displeased. How +_did_ you know, Endecott?"--"I saw and heard. And have seen and heard +since," he added, smiling. + +A question or two found out exactly how it had been; and then Faith put +the inquiry, simple to quaintness, "Did I do better to-day?"--"If you +are so anxious for me--" he said, stroking back her hair. "They did not +deserve to have one of my wife's words, but her words were admirable." + +It was worth while to see Faith's cheeks. + +"Will you trust me to ride with Mr. Middleton to-morrow?" she asked +presently, smiling. + +"No. Yes--I will trust you but not him." + +"Does that mean that you will trust me to go?"--"Not with him." + +"But what shall I do?" said Faith, flushing after a different +fashion--half laughing too--"I told him I would go, or that I thought I +would go." + +"Tell him that you think you will not." + +Faith looked a little troubled: she foresaw a charge of questions she +did not like to meet. + +"Are you afraid of the horse, Endy?" she said, after a pause, a little +timidly. "No, darling." + +Faith was pretty just now, as she stood with her eyes cast down: like a +generous tempered horse first feeling the bit; you can see that the +creature will be as docile as possible, yet he is a little shy of your +curb. Anything like control was absolutely new to her; and though her +face was never more sweet, there was with that a touch of embarrassment +which made an inexpressibly pretty mixture. Mr. Linden might well be +amused and touched, and charmed too, all in one. + +"Mr. Motley asked me to ride too," she said after a minute, blushing a +little deeper, and speaking as if it were a supplement to her former +words. "He wanted to show me the Belle Spring. I had better give them +both the same answer." + +"Has nobody else preferred his request? they are just the two people +with whom I do not want you to ride," said Mr. Linden, smiling. "I +shall have to ask you myself, or claim you. Mrs. Linden, may I have the +honour?"--Faith gave him a very bright answer of a smile, but with a +little secret wish in her heart that the other people had not asked her. + +Her denial, however, was perfectly well taken by Mr. Motley; not indeed +without a little bantering talk and raillery upon the excessive care +Mr. Linden bestowed on her. But Mr. Middleton, she saw, was not pleased +that she disappointed him. Within two or three days Faith had become +unmistakeably the centre of attraction to all the gentlemen of the +neighbourhood. To walk with her, to talk to her, to attend upon her, +were not a coveted honour merely, but a coveted pleasure. It was found +wonderfully refreshing to talk to Faith: her eyes were something +pleasant to look at, for more than George Alcott; and the truth of her +enjoyment and gratitude made it a captivating thing to be the means of +exciting them. + +Mr. Middleton was one of those men who think very much indeed of the +value of their approbation, and never bestow it but where they are sure +the honour of their taste and judgment is like to be the gainer--one of +those men who in ordinary keep their admiration for themselves, and +bestow in that quarter a very large amount. Faith's refusal to ride +with him touched him very disagreeably. It was impossible to be +offended with her, but perhaps all the more he was offended with +somebody; and it happened unluckily that some reported light words of +Mr. Motley about Mr. Linden's care of his wife, and especial distrust +of the gentlemen who had asked her to ride, reached Mr. Middleton's ear +in a very exaggerated and opprobrious form. Mr. Middleton did not know +Mr. Linden, nor know much of him; his bottled-up wrath resolved that +Mr. Linden should not continue long in his reciprocal ignorance. And so +it fell out, that as this week began with showing Mr. Linden something +of Faith that he had not seen before, it did not end without giving her +a new view of him. + +It was a captivating summer morning when the cavalcade set forth from +Rye House, on a picnic to Alderney, one of the show places in the +neighbourhood. It seemed fairyland to Faith. The beautiful country over +which they travelled, in summer's luxuriance of grass and grain; the +river rolling below at a little distance, sometimes hidden only to +burst upon the view again; and towering above all, unchanged beyond the +changing lights and shades of the nearer landscape, the long mountain +range. The air was perfection; the sounds of voice and laughter and +horses' brisk feet helped the exhilaration, and the lively colours and +fashion of caps and habits and feathers made pretty work for the eye. +Faith's ears and eyes were charmed. At a cross road the party was +joined by Mr. Middleton; whose good humour, at present in a +loose-jointed state, was nowise improved at the sight of Faith. She +rode then, at any rate; and she sat well and rode fearlessly, that he +could see; and his eye keen for such things, noted too the neat +appointments of her dress, and saw that they were all right, and fitted +her, and she fitted them; and that her figure altogether was what no +man might dislike to have beside him, even a man so careful of his +appearance as Mr. Middleton. Not near Faith did he come; but having +noted all these things with gathering ire, he sheered off to another +part of the troop. + +It was a pretty day to Faith, the whole first part of it. The ride, and +the viewing the grounds they went to see. These were indeed naturally +very noble; and to Faith's eyes every new form of natural beauty, of +which her range had hitherto been so very small, was like a fresh +draught of water to thirsty lips. It was a great draught she had this +morning, and enjoyed almost to the forgetfulness of everything else. +Then came the lunch. And that was picturesque, too, certainly; on such +a bank, under such trees, with such a river and mountains in front; and +Faith enjoyed it and them so far. But it was splendid too, and noisy; +and her thoughts went at one time away very far, to Kildeer river, and +remembered a better meal taken under the trees, with better talk, and +only Bob Tuck to look at them. She stole a glance at Mr. Linden. He was +doing his part, and making somebody very comfortable indeed--Faith half +smiled to see it. + +Mr. Middleton at another part of the assembled company, had been +getting his temper up with wine and his ill humour with the various +suggestions and remarks of some careless gossipers at his side. Finding +that he winced under the mention of Mrs. Linden and the ride, they gave +him that subject with as many variations as the Katydid polka,--the +simple "She did"--(or rather "She _didn't_")--skilfully diversified and +touched up,--which brought Mr. Middleton's heavy piece of displeasure, +already primed, loaded, and at full cock, to the very point where his +temper struck fire. He left the table and drew towards Mr. Linden, who +was talking in the midst of a group of ladies and gentlemen. Middleton +knew which was he that was all. + +"You, sir!" he said, like a surly bull-dog, which term describes both +his mental and physical features, "my name's Middleton; I want you to +take back what you've said about me." + +Mr. Linden at the moment was in the full tide of German talk with one +of his old fellow students from abroad; his excellent poise and play of +conversation and manner setting off the gesticulations of the +foreigner. With a look of more surprise than anything else he brought +eyes and attention to bear upon Mr. Middleton. + +"What, sir?" he said. + +"Will you take back what you've said about me?" The dogged wrath of the +man was beyond the use of many words, to which indeed he was never +given. + +"I have not said anything, sir, which requires that." And with a bend +of the head, cool and courteous as his words, Mr. Linden dismissed the +subject; and placing himself on the grass with his friend and some +others, fell back into the German. Middleton followed fuming. + +"I've come to speak to you!" he said, beginning with an execration, +"and you must get up and answer me. Will you take back what you said?" +Stooping down, he had thrown these words into Mr. Linden's ear in a way +to leave no doubt whom they were meant for. + +"I have answered you, sir." + +"That is to tell you what I think of it!" said Middleton, dashing in +his face the remains of a glass of wine which he had brought with him +from the board on purpose. + +He was on his feet then! with what a spring! as in the fairy tale the +beautiful princess of a sudden became a sword. Just such eyes of fire +Mr. Middleton had never been privileged to see. But Faith saw the hands +drop and grasp each other, she saw the eyes fall, and the colour go and +come and go again, with a rush and swiftness that was startling to see. +Absolutely motionless, the very breath kept down, so he stood. And even +his assailant gazed, in a sort of spell-bound wonder. The twittering +birds overhead, how they carolled; how softly the leaves rustled, and +the river sent up its little waves: and the sunshine and shadow crept +on, measuring off the seconds. The pure peace and beauty of everything, +the hush of human voices, were but the setting of the deep human +struggle. The victory came. + +With a face from which at last the colour had taken its permanent +departure, Mr. Linden looked up and spoke; and something made the very +low tones ring in the air. + +"I have said nothing about you which needed apology, Mr. Middleton. You +have been misinformed, sir." And with that same bend of dismissal Mr. +Linden drew himself up and walked away, bareheaded as he was. The trees +hid him in a moment. + +Then there came a stir. + +"What a coward!" cried George Alcott, pressing forward, "to do that to +a man who you knew wouldn't knock you down!" + +The young German had started up, sputtering strange things in his +native tongue. + +"Mr. Linden is an excellent commentator," said one young lady, who took +the liberty of speech pretty freely. "How clear he makes it that 'The +discretion of a man deferreth his anger; and it is his glory to pass by +a transgression.'" + +"I really thought," said Mr. Motley, in a make-believe whisper, "when +Middleton first came up, that he had been taking a glass too much, but +now I see that he took just half a glass too little!" + +"Sir," said Colonel Rye, stepping forward, a man of most noble +character and presence both, "Mr. Linden is my guest and friend, you +must answer this to me." + +Before Mr. Middleton could make answer, Faith had come in between and +laid hold of the Colonel's hand. She was white, and quiet, but she +could not at once speak. All around stood still. + +"Sir," she said, in words that were well heard for everybody held his +breath, "Colonel Rye, this is Mr. Linden's affair." + +"I beg your pardon, my dear young lady--it is mine." + +"No, sir," said Faith he felt how eagerly her fingers grasped his, "it +is in Mr. Linden's hands. He forgives Mr. Middleton entirely." + +"I don't forgive him!" said the Colonel, shortly. + +"Sir," said Faith, "Colonel Rye, this is not what Mr. Linden would +wish. Endecott will tell you, sir, that he has passed it by. Don't undo +what he has done! No true friend of Mr. Linden will make any more of +this." + +"I am willing to answer it to anybody," said Middleton, gruffly, but as +if half ashamed of himself. + +"There is nothing to answer to any one," said Faith, quitting the +Colonel, and turning to him; her face was so white and gentle that it +smote him, and those very steady sweet eyes had a power in them just +now that broke his doggedness. "There is nothing to answer to any one, +unless Mr. Middleton," (how soft her voice was), "unless you find you +were wrong, and choose to tell Mr. Linden, which I dare say you will. +Colonel Rye, will you see, for Mr. Linden's honour, that this goes to +no harm?"--The extreme gentleness and the steady firmness of Faith +ruled them all; and at her last appeal the Colonel's only answer was to +take her in his arms and kiss her, an acknowledgment Faith would +willingly have gone without. But it was good for a promise. + +"Mr. Alcott," she said seeking him in the group, "you said we would go +down the bank--." Faith did not finish her sentence, but he saw her +wish to finish it by action. + +She went with him till they were out of sight and away from everybody; +then slipped her arm from his and begging him not to wait for her sat +down on the grass. For a while she sat very still, whether her heart +was fuller of petition or thanksgiving she hardly knew. She would have +rejoined Mr. Alcott much sooner if she had guessed he was waiting for +her--like an outpost among the trees; but all the time had not brought +back Faith's colour. After a while, other steps came swiftly over the +turf as she sat there, and before she had raised her head it was lifted +up for her. + +"My precious wife! what are you doing here?" Very low the tones were, +very grave, very tender. + +Faith sprang, and after an exploring glance into his face, knelt on the +grass beside him and threw her arms round his neck, pressing her cheek +very close as if she would take off or share the affront that had been +offered to his. That for a minute--and then changing characters--she +raised her head and pushing the hair back from his brow with her soft +hurried fingers, she covered that and his face with kisses--with a kind +of eager tenderness that could not say enough nor put enough love and +reverence into every touch. All this while she was still; she did not +shed tears at all, as some women would have done; and she said not one +word. + +Perhaps surprise made him passive: perhaps the soothing of her caresses +was too sweet and too much needed to be interrupted, even by a return. +He let her have her way, nor even raised his eyes. One arm indeed was +round her, but it left her free to do what she liked. If Faith needed +any light on what the morning's work had been, it was furnished by +those few minutes. Only at last, with a sudden motion Mr. Linden +brought her lips to his, and gave her back principal and interest. + +"You blessed child!" he said. "Are you a veritable angel already?"--"I +should have brought you a palm-branch, Endy." For almost the first time +he had ever heard it so, Faith's voice was unsteady. + +Had she not done it? Mr. Linden did not say so, as he took grave note +of her pale cheeks. Presently rising up he passed his arm round her, +and took her up the bank to the rest of the party, nor let go his hold +till she was seated between Mrs. Rye and himself. Then from the fern +leaf in his hand, he proceeded to give them both an account of ferns in +general--living and fossil, extant and extinct; with his usual happy +skill and interest, and--except that the lips never broke into a +smile--with just his usual manner. And never had the grave depth of eye +been more beautiful, more clear. Not Faith alone watched it with loving +admiration, but no one any more than she ventured word or look of +sympathy. + +When at last the various groups began to draw in towards a centre, and +ladies put on their riding hats, and grooms were buckling girths again, +Mr. Middleton with two or three others was seen advancing towards Mr. +Linden's quarter. Mrs. Rye rose hastily. + +"I am sorry to find that I made a mistake, sir," said Middleton, with a +sort of unwilling courtesy; "I was under misinformation--and I was not +aware of your profession. I beg your pardon for what has occurred." + +Mr. Linden had risen too, and with folded arms and the most unmoved +face stood watching the party as they came up. + +"It is granted," he said, offering his hand. "But permit me to say, Mr. +Middleton, that you made a third mistake, equally great if the other +two had not existed." + +Mr. Middleton's private thoughts were perhaps not clearly disentangled. +At all events he had no desire to multiply words, and turned off. + +"So, he has spoken, has he!" said Colonel Rye, coming up. "Like a bear, +I dare say. Why do you think I didn't fight him, Endecott?" + +A smile came over Mr. Linden's face then--bright and stirred. + +"I think, sir, you yielded to Mignonette's power, as I did long ago." + +"You?--Did he?" said the Colonel, turning.--"No, sir; never!" said +Faith, laughing and blushing till her cheeks were brilliant. The +Colonel smiled at her. + +"My dear," said he, "you conquered me! and I don't believe any other +man more invincible than myself. Is this your horse? No, Motley; no, +George; she is going to have an old cavalier for her ride home." + +And much to Faith's pleasure, so she had. + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + + + +October's foliage had lost its distinct red and purple and brown, and +had grown merely sunburnt; but the sky overhead still kept its +wonderful blue. Down the ravines, over their deep shadow, October +breathed softly; up the mountain road, past grey boulders and primeval +trees and wonderful beds of moss, went the stage waggon. The travellers +were going by a somewhat long and irregular route, first up one of the +great highways, then across to that spur of the mountains where they +were to live. Mrs. Derrick was to follow in a few weeks with Mr. +Stoutenburgh. + +It was late and dusky when the stage waggon transferred the travellers +to Mr. Olyphant's carriage, which was waiting for them at a certain +turn of the road. Mr. Olyphant himself was there, with extra wrappings +for Faith; and muffled in them she sat leaning in the corner of the +carriage, tired enough to make the rest pleasant, awake enough to hear +the conversation; feeling more like a bird than ever, with that +unwonted night air upon her face, and the wild smell of woods and +evergreens and brooks floating about her. + +At Mr. Olyphant's they were received with warm wood fires and excellent +supper, the welcome spending itself in many other ways. But though Mr. +Linden did take her to the door for one minute to hear a pouring +mountain torrent, she could see nothing that night. The stars overhead +were brilliant, the dark hill outline dim--the rushing of that +stream--how it sounded! Faith's whisper was gleeful. + +"Endy, I can't see much, but it feels lovely! I am so glad to be here!" + +The morning was wonderful. Such a sunlight, such an air, such +rejoicings of birds and brook and leaves. Mr. Olyphant's house stood on +one side of a woody slope, rocks and trees crowned to the very top; in +the ravine below, the brook Faith had heard. She could see it now, +foaming along, quieting itself as it came into smoother circumstances. +The most of its noise indeed seemed to be made in some place out of +sight, higher up. This slope was not very high, other ridges before and +beyond it looked down, not frowningly, in their October dress. Not much +else could be seen, it was a mere leafy nest. A little faint line of +smoke floated over the opposite ridge, glimpses of mountain paths here +and there caught the sunlight, below Faith's window Mr. Linden stood, +like some statue, with folded arms. + +Faith hastily finished her dressing. As soon as that was done she knelt +at her window again, to look and to pray. Those hills looked very near +the sky; life-work there seemed almost to touch heaven. Nay, did it +not? Heaven bent over the glorious earth and over the work to be done +there, with the same clear, fair, balmy promise and truth. Faith could +almost have joined the birds in their singing; her heart did; and her +heart's singing was as pure and as grave as theirs. Not the careless +glee that sees and wants nothing but roses in the way; but the deep +love and gladness, both earthly and heavenly, that makes roses grow out +of every soil. So she looked, when Mr. Linden first discerned her, +venturing from the hall door and searching round for him. + +"O little Sunbeam!" he said, "how you 'glint' upon everything! there is +a general illumination when you come out of the door. How do you feel +this morning?--rested?"-- + +"As if I never had been tired." And Faith might have said, as if she +never would be tired again; but only her eye revelled in such soft +boasting. "Where is our home now, Endecott?" + +The ridge before them, on the other side of the ravine, rose up with +swifter ascent into the blue air, and looked even more thick set with +orange trees: but where it slanted down towards the more open country, +a little break in the trees spoke of clearing and meadow and +cultivation. The clearing was for the most part on the other side, but +a bit of one green field, dotted with two or three dark objects, swept +softly over the ridge line. + +"Are you in the sight-seeing mood?" said Mr. Linden, with a look as +gladsome as her own.--"Yes; and seeing sights too. But where is that, +Endy?" + +"I shall take you there by degrees; wait a moment," and he went in for +the glass. "Now, Mignonette," he said, adjusting it for her, "I wish to +ask your notice for a little black spot on that bit of clearing. But +first, what does it look like to you, a hut or a summerhouse?"--"It's +too far off; it looks like nothing but a black spot." + +"Now, look," said Mr. Linden, smiling. O wondrous power of the glass! +the black spot remained indeed a black spot still, but with the +improvements of very decided horns, black tail, and four feet. + +"Somebody lives there," said Faith. "It's a cow."--"Most true! What cow +do you suppose it is, Mrs. Linden?" + +Faith put down her glass to laugh at him. "It's no friend of mine," she +said. "I have a few friends among cows, but not many." + +"My dear Mrs. Linden, you always were rather quick at conclusions. If +you look again, you will see that the cow has a surrounding fence of +primeval roots, which will keep even her from running away." + +Faith obeyed directions, carefully. "Endy," she said in an oddly +changed tone, "is it my black heifer?"--"It is not mine," said Mr. +Linden. + +"But I didn't know she had come!" said Faith; then putting up her glass +again to scan the far-off "black spot" and all around it, with an +intenseness of feeling which showed itself in two very different spots +on her cheeks. + +"Put down your glass, Faith," said Mr. Linden, "and look up along the +ridge to that faint blue wreath over the yellow treetops; that is your +first welcome from my study." + +She looked eagerly, and then a most delighted bright smile broke over +her face as it turned to Mr. Linden. + +"How do you know it is in your study, Endecott?--and who has lighted +it?"--"Some one! We'll go over after breakfast and see." + +At breakfast many things were discussed besides broiled chicken. And +afterwards there came to the door two of the rugged, surefooted, +mountain horses, saddled and bridled for the expedition. On the porch +steps a great lunch basket told of Mrs. Olyphant's care; Faith was up +stairs donning her habit. Mr. Linden ran up to meet her. + +"Faith," he said, laughingly, "Malthus has just confided to me, that +'if Mrs. Endecott has any things to take over,' they would make the way +wonderfully pleasant to him." + +"Who is Malthus?" + +The shy blush on Faith's cheek was pretty to see. + +"He is an old servant of mine, who has been with Mr. Olyphant, and is +coming to me again." + +Faith thought it was good news, and as good for Malthus as anybody. An +important little travelling-bag was committed to him, and the cavalcade +set forth. + +The way was far longer than the distance seemed to promise, having to +follow the possibilities of the ground. A wild way--through the forest +and over the brook; a good bridle path, but no better. The stillness of +nature everywhere; rarely a human habitation near enough to afford +human sounds. Frost and dew lay sparkling yet on moss and stone, in the +dells where the sun had not looked; though now and then a sudden +opening or turn showed a reach or a gorge of the mountains all golden +with sunlight. Trees such as Faith had never seen, stood along the path +in many places, and under them the horses' footfalls frightened the +squirrels from tree to tree. + +"Is this the only way of getting about here, Endecott?" + +"This, or on foot, in many directions. That part of our parish which +lies below us, as Mr. Olyphant says, can be reached with wheels. But +look, Mignonette!" + +The road turned sharply round a great boulder, and they were almost +home! There it lay before them, a little below, an irregular, low, grey +stone cottage, fitting itself to the ground as if fitting the ground to +it had been an impossibility. It was not on a ravine; the slope went +down, down, till it swept off into the stubble fields and cleared land +below. There was the sound of a great waterfall in the distance; close +by the house a little branch stream went bounding down, and spread +itself out peaceably in the valley. Dark hemlocks guarded the cottage +from too close neighbourhood of the cliffs at the back, but in front +the subsiding roughness of nature kept only a few oaks and maples here +and there. The cleared ground was irregular, like the house, running up +and down, as might be. No moving thing in sight but the blue smoke and +the sailing clouds and cloud shadows. The tinkle of a cow-bell made +itself heard faintly; the breeze rushed through the pines, then slowly +the black heifer came over the brow of her meadow and surveyed the +prospect. + +Faith had checked her horse, and looking at it all, up and down, turned +to Mr. Linden. There was a great deal in her look, more than words +could bear the burden of, and she said none. He held out his hand and +clasped hers speakingly, the lips unbent then, though they went back to +the grave lines of thought and interest and purpose. It was not merely +_his_ home he was looking at--it was the one to which he was bringing +her. Was it the place for Mignonette? would it be too lonely, too cold? +or was the whole scene that lay before them, in its wild beauty, the +roughness covered and glorified by that supreme sunlight, a fair +picture of their life together, wherever it might be? So he believed; +the light grew and deepened in his own eyes as he looked,--the grave +purpose, the sure hope; and Mignonette's little hand the while was held +as she had rarely felt him hold it before. + +Presently she bent down so that she could look up in his face, +answering him then with a smile. + +"Endy, what are you thinking of? I am very happy." The last words were +lowered a little. + +Mr. Linden's eyes came to her instantly, with something of their former +look, but very bright; and bending off his horse he put one arm round +her, with as full and earnest a kiss as she had ever had from him. +"That is what I was thinking of," he said, "I was thinking of my wife, +Mignonette." + +"Aren't you satisfied?" she said in her former tone.--"Perfectly." + +The look made a very personal application.--Faith shook her head a +little, and they rode on. + +The cottage door was very near presently: Faith could see all the minor +points of interest. Malthus, who had got there by a short cut, waited +to take their horses; then a white cap and apron appeared in the +doorway for a second and vanished again. + +"You will find another of our old dependants here, Faith," said Mr. +Linden. + +"Who is that?" she said quickly.--"There were three women in our +house," said Mr. Linden, "that Pet and I called respectively, 'Good,' +'Better,' and 'Best,' this is Best. Hers was a name in earnest, for we +never called her anything else; and it was always the desire of her +heart first to see my wife and then to live with her. And I was sure +she would please you." + +"What must I call her?--_Mrs_. Best?" said Faith. "No, you must call +her nothing but 'Best.'" + +"That's excellent!" said Faith gleefully. "I thought there was nobody +here but _one_ friend of yours, Endecott. Now I shall get in order +directly." + +"_That_ is what you thought you were coming to," he said, coming to her +side to lift her down. "How would you like to be taken right back to +Mr. Olyphant's?"--"Not at all!" + +In answer to which she was lightly jumped down from the saddle and +carried off into the house; where Mr. Linden and Best shook hands after +a prolonged fashion, and the old servant--not that she was very old +neither--turned glad, and eager, and respectful eyes upon her new +mistress, touching that little hand with great satisfaction of heart. + +"It's warmer in the study, sir," she said, "and there's a fire in the +kitchen, if Mrs. Endecott would like to see that. And shall I make one +anywhere else, ma'am?" + +Best's white cap and apron were very attractive, and so, on the other +hand were Faith's blush and smile. + +The hall in which they stood, rather a wide one, cut the house from +front to back, with no break of stairway. Through the open back door +Faith could see the dark cliff, and hear the brook. Mr. Linden asked +where "she would go first?" Faith whispered, "To the study." He smiled, +and opened the one door at her left hand, and led her in. + +Not yet in perfect order, the bookshelves yet unfurnished, it looked a +very abode of comfort; for there were basking sunbeams and a blazing +fire, there were shelves and cupboards of various size and shape, there +were windows, not _very_ large, it is true, but giving such views of +the fair country below, and the brook, and the ascent, and the distant +blue peaks of the range. Warm-coloured curtains, and carpet, and couch +had been put here under Mr. Olyphant's orders; and here were things of +Mr. Linden's which Faith had never seen--his escritoire and study table +among others. _Her_ table, with a dainty easy-chair, at the prettiest +of all the windows, she knew at a glance--unknown as it was before; but +the desk which she had had long ago, stood on the study table, nearer +his. Mr. Linden brought her up to the fire, and stood silent, with his +arms wrapped about her for a minute; then he stooped and kissed her. + +"How does it look, Sunbeam?" + +Faith was grave, and her eye went silently from one thing to another +even after he spoke, then turned its full sunny answer upon him. Faith +certainly thought he did too much for her; but she spoke no such +thought, leaving it as she had once meant to leave other thoughts, for +action. + +"You can put your books right in, and then it will be beautiful," she +remarked. "And look down the mountain, out of that window, Endecott." + +She was taken over to the window for a nearer view and placed in her +easy-chair to take the good of it. + +"Do you see that little red speck far down at the foot of the hill?" +Mr. Linden said, "in that particularly rough steep place?"--"Yes." + +"That is the best thing we can get for a church at present." + +Faith thought it would be a very good sort of a "thing" when he was in +it; but, as usual, she did not tell all her thoughts. They came back to +her easy-chair and table, and from them to Mr. Linden's face, with a +look which said "How could you?" But he only smiled, and asked her if +she felt disposed to go over the rest of the house. + +For a house that was not in order, this one was singularly put to +rights. Boxes and packages and trunks there were in plenty; rolls of +carpet and pieces of bedsteads, and chairs and tables, and everything +else; but they were all snugly disposed by the wall, so that the rooms +could be entered and the windows reached. The inside of the cottage +was, like the outside, irregular, picturesque, and with sufficient +capabilities of comfort. The kitchen was in a state of nicety to match +that of Best; in a piece of ground behind the house, partly prepared +for a garden, Malthus was at work as composedly as if they had all been +settled in the White Mountains for the last ten years. + +Lunch was taken somewhat informally; then the riding habit being +changed for a working dress, Faith set about reducing the rebellion +among boxes and furniture. Best had reason presently to be satisfied +not only with the manners but the powers of her new mistress; though +she also judged in her wisdom that the latter needed some restriction +in their exercise. Gentleness was never more efficient. The +sitting-room began to look like a sitting-room; tables and bookshelves +and chairs marched into place. Meanwhile Faith had been getting into +pleasant order one of the rooms up stairs, which, with what Mrs. +Olyphant had done, was easy; enjoying the mountain air that came in +through the window, and unpacking linen and china. Mr. Linden, on his +part, had been as busy with some of the rougher and heavier work, +opening boxes and unpacking books, and especially taking care of Faith; +which last work was neither rough nor heavy. She was amused (edified +too) at the new commentary on his former life which this day gave her: +to call upon servants when they were present, seemed as natural as to +do without them when they were absent. Faith mused and wondered a +little over the old habit which showed itself so plainly, thinking too +of his life in Pattaquasset. + +The day had worn on and faded, and Faith was still busy in a hunt for +some of her wedding presents which she wanted to have on the tea-table. +But Mr. Linden for some time had missed her; and entering upon a tour +of search, found her in a large closet near the kitchen, with a great +deal chest on one side and a trunk on the other. Between them, on her +knees, Faith was laying out package after package, and pile after pile +of naperies lay on the floor around her; in the very height of +rummaging, though with cheeks evidently paled since the morning. Mr. +Linden took an expressive view of the subject. + +"Mignonette, I want my tea." + +"Yes!" said Faith eagerly, looking up and then at her work again, "just +so soon as I find some things--" + +"I don't want 'things,' I want tea." + +"Yes; but you can't have tea without things." + +"I will be content with six napkins and ten tablecloths--just for +to-night, as we are in confusion." + +"And no spoons?" said Faith. "Here they are." + +"Yes; here they are," said Mr. Linden, "and here is everything else. +Just look at the state of the floor, for me to walk over." + +"Not at all," said Faith; "please keep out. I will have tea ready very +soon, Endy." + +"You shall not have anything ready," and Faith found herself lifted +from her kneeling position, and placed in a not uncomfortable nest of +things, "Now, Mrs. Linden, whatever of those packages your hands may +touch, shall lie on the floor all night. But as you see, my hands have +a different effect." And swiftly and surely the "things" began to find +corner room in the closet. + +"Endy," said Faith, catching his hands, "please don't! Just go away, +and leave me here for three minutes." + +"Not for one. I'll turn them all out again in the morning, after the +most approved fashion." + +Faith sat down, the swift colour in her cheeks testifying to a little +rebellion. It was swift to go, however, as it had been to come; and she +sat still, looking on at Mr. Linden's work, with a little soberness of +brow. That broke too, when she met his eye, in a very frank and deep +smile. + +"Well?" he said, laughing and leaning back against the closet door. + +"Will you let me go and get tea now?" she said, with the same +look.--"You pretty child! No, I want Best to get tea--and you to be +quiet." + +"I'll come and be quiet in three minutes, Endy, after I get rid of the +dust," she said, winningly. + +"Genuine minutes? If Ariel 'put a girdle round the earth' in forty, you +should be able to put one round your waist in three--I suppose that is +included in a feminine 'getting rid of the dust.'" + +Faith's face promised faithfulness, as she ran off towards the kitchen; +where in less than three minutes she and Best had proved the +(sometimes) excellence of women's business faculties. Meantime a +strange man lifted the latch of the kitchen door, and carefully closing +it after him, remained upon the scene of action. + +"How d'ye do?" he said. "Is the new man come?"--"Everybody's new here," +said Faith. "Whom do you mean?"--"Couldn't tell ye the first word! But +I've been after him better'n three times, if he ain't," the man spoke +as if it was "worse" instead of better. + +"Whom do you mean?" said Faith more gravely; "the minister?"--"Now +that's what I call hitting the nail," said her visitor. "Well if he's +here, just tell him to come up the mounting, will ye?"--"When?" + +"Moon sets close on to nine, and its lighter afore that." + +"Where is the place?" said Faith, now very serious indeed; "and what do +you want the minister for?"--"I don't want him, bless you!" said the +man. "If I did, I shouldn't be standin' here. It's an old soul up our +way. He's got to go up to the bridge and over the bridge and 'tother +side of the bridge, and so on till he comes to it. And the bridge is +slippy." With which summing up, the man turned to the door, rattling +the latch in a sort of preparatory way, to give Faith a chance for +remarks. + +"But who wants him there and what for? you haven't told me."--"Why it's +old Uncle Bias. Sen he's sick he's got something on his mind, never +seemed to afore, and he's in a takin' to tell it. That's all." And he +opened the door. + +"Why won't to-morrow do as well as to-night?"--"Wal," said the man +slowly, "s'pose it might. Nevertheless, to-morrow ain't worth much to +him. Nobody'd give much for it." + +"Why?"--"'Taint certain he'd get what he paid for." + +"Is he very sick?"--"Very enough," said the man with a nod, and opening +the door. + +Faith sprang forward. "Stop a minute, will you, friend, and see Mr. +Linden." + +"That's his name, as sure as guns," said he of the "mounting." "No, +thankee, I don't care about seein' him now, next time'll do just as +well, and it's time he was off." + +"Then wait and show him the way, will you? how is he to find it?"--"Do +tell!" said the man slowly, "if he can't find his way round in the +moonlight?"--"Better than most people," said Faith; "but I think he +would like to see you." + +The man however chose to defer that pleasure also to "next time," and +went off. Faith went to the study. Coming up behind Mr. Linden where he +was sitting, and laying both hands on his shoulders, she said in a very +low and significant voice, "Endy, some one wants you." + +"Only that you never assert your claims," he said, bringing the hands +together, "I should suppose it must be the very person whom I want." + +Her head stooped lower, till the soft cheek and hair lay against his. +But she only whispered, "Endy, it is some one up the mountain." + +"Is it?" he said, rousing up; but only turning his lips to her cheek. +"Well, people up the mountain must have what they want. Is it now, +Faith?" + +"Endy--they say it's a dying man." + +"Where? Is the messenger here?"--"I couldn't make him wait--he thought +he had business somewhere else. The place is--I dare say Malthus +knows--up the mountain, beyond the bridge--you are to go over the +bridge and on till you come to the house. And he says the bridge is +slippery." Only a fine ear could detect the little change in Faith's +voice. But she knew it was noticed, from the smile on the lips that +kissed her, two or three times. Then Mr. Linden disengaged himself and +rose up. + +"Faith," he said, "you are to wait tea for me, and in the mean time you +must take one of Miss Bezac's cups of comfort and lie down on the sofa +and go to sleep. Your eyes will be just as good guiding stars sleeping +as waking." + +She said not another word, but watched him go off and out into the half +dark wilderness. The moon shone bright indeed, but only touched the +tops of many a woody outline, and many a steep mountain side rose up +and defied her. Faith smelled the wild sweet air, looked up and down at +the gleams of light and bands of shadow; and then came back to the +study where the fire blazed, and sat down on the floor in front of it; +gazing into the red coals, and following in fancy Mr. Linden on his +walk and errand. It took him away from her, and so many such an errand +would, often; but to speak comfort to the dying and tell the truth to +the ignorant.--Faith gloried in it. He was an ambassador of Christ; and +not to have him by her side would Faith keep him from his work. That he +might do his work well--that he might be blessed in it, both to others +and himself, her very heart almost fused itself in prayer. So thinking, +while every alternate thought was a petition for him, weariness and +rest together at last put her to sleep; and she slept a dreamless sweet +sleep with her head on Mr. Linden's chair. + +She awoke before he got back, though the evening was long set in. +Feeling refreshed, Faith thought herself at liberty to reverse orders +and went to the forbidden closet again, and to further conjurations +with Best. They could not have taken long; for when, some hour later, +Mr. Linden was nearing the house on his return, he had a pretty view of +her, standing all dressed before the fire in his study. The glow shone +all over her--he could see her well, and her fresh neatness. He could +see more. Faith Linden to-night was not just the Faith Derrick of old +time; nor even of six months ago. The old foundations of character were +all there, intact; but upon them sat a nameless grace, not simply of +cultivation, nor of matured intelligence, nor even of happiness. A +certain quiet elegance, a certain airy dignity--which had belonged to +her only since she had been _Mr. Linden's wife_. She stood there, +waiting now for him to come home. + +The firelight caught behind her the gleam of silver, whether Mr. Linden +could see it or not, where the little chocolatière stood brilliant. +Faith had found that in her last rummaging. Miss Bezac's new trencher +and bread knife were on the table too, with a loaf of Mrs. Olyphant's +bread; and the fireshine gleamed on Mr. Alcott's saltcellars, and on +the Mignonette tea service. Faith evidently had pleased her fancy. But +now her fancy had forgotten it or left it in the background; and for +what, was well shown by her spring as she caught the sound of the +coming step. She met Mr. Linden at the door, gladness in every line and +movement, and yet the same grace over all her action now, that a minute +before was in all her repose. She said nothing at all. + +"Watching for me, my dear child!" he said. "Faith, you have been on my +heart all these hours." + +She waited till he had come up to the fire, and then softly inquired, +"What for?"--"'What for no?'" he said, smiling, but giving her face a +somewhat earnest consideration. "Have you been asleep?"--"Yes. And then +I thought I might go after my chocolate pot, in the closet." + +"Sensible child! What did you think upon the great question of setting +forth to see me safe over the bridge?"--Her face changed, though +smiling. She whispered--"I did see you safe over it." But his lips were +grave instantly, and the eyes even flushed. And Faith could see then +that he was exceedingly tired. Gently her hands rather insinuated than +pushed him into the chair, and she ran away to give an order; coming +back to do two or three other things for his comfort. Still silent, +standing there beside his chair, she presently stooped and put her +fresh sweet lips to his. Roses full of dew are not sweeter; and if +roses were sentient things their kisses could not give sympathy more +fragrantly, nor with more pure quiet. Holding her fast, Mr. Linden +asked what she thought of her share of clerical duties, on the whole? + +Faith answered somewhat quaintly, "Not much." + +"You don't!--What a triumph for Miss Essie! Were you lonely, Faith?" + +She was going to answer, then sprang away from him, for Malthus came to +the door. And the table was spread, with as dainty exactness as if +there were no disorder anywhere in Mr. Linden's household. The little +chocolatière steamed out its welcome, Malthus was gone, and Faith stood +by Mr. Linden's chair again. + +"It is ready, Endecott." + +He had watched her from under the shadow of his hand, her soft +arranging steps and touches. "Faith," he said, looking up, "is this the +night when I am to have sugarless tea, to remind me of the +over-sweetened cup of long ago?" + +Her smile and flash of the eye were conscious as well as bright. "I +guess, sugar is 'potent' yet, Endy." + +"_You_ are!" he said. "Have you been lonely, my dear child? You don't +answer me." + +She hesitated a very little. "I felt you were away, Endy--but I didn't +wish you here. No, I wasn't lonely." His eyes spoke a full +understanding of both parts of her sentence. But his words touched +somewhat else. + +"Those poor people up on the mountain! poor as unbelief could make +them. Faith, I must go there again in the morning." + +"Is it far?"--"Pretty far. On the crest of the ridge." + +"What about them, Endy?" + +"What were you looking for, here in the embers?"--"I?" she said, the +colour instantly starting as she understood his question. "I was +looking for you, then." + +"I was sure of it. I saw myself distinctly portrayed in a piece of +charcoal." + +She laughed, gaily and softly. "Wouldn't you like to have some tea, and +then tell me what you saw up on the mountain?" she whispered.--"Ah, +little Sunbeam," he said, "I spent some weary hours there. No, I don't +want to tell you about it to-night. And so at last I came home, +thinking of the scene I had been through, and of you, left alone here +in this strange place. And then I had that vision of my wife." + +She was silent, her face showing certainly a grave consciousness that +he was tired, and a full entering into the feeling of his work; but for +herself, a spirit as strong in its foundations of rest, as full of joy +both in his work and in him as a spirit could be. So till her eyes met +his, then the look broke in a winsome little confessing smile, and the +eyes fell. + +"Don't you want something better than visions?" she said.--"Is that a +challenge?" He laughed and rose up, carrying her off to her place at +the table, and installing her with all the honours; and still holding +her by the shoulders asked "if she felt like the head of the +house?"--"No indeed!" said Faith. + +"What then?"--"You know," said Faith, colouring, "what I am." + +"Mrs. Endecott, I suppose. I have noticed, Mignonette," said Mr. Linden +as he went round to his chair, "that when ever you see fit to agree +with me, it is always in your own words!" + +Which remark Faith benevolently answered with a cup of cocoa, which was +good enough to answer anything. + + + + + +THE END. + + + +PRINTING OFFICE OF THE PUBLISHER. + + + + + +Typographical errors silently corrected: + +Chapter 2: =who have them.= replaced =by who have them."= + +Chapter 2: =in one sphere!"= replaced by =in one sphere!'"= + +Chapter 2: =down the forfeits."= replaced by =down the forfeits.= + +Chapter 3: =looked her eye= replaced by =looked, her eye= + +Chapter 4: =spirit of light.= replaced by =spirit of light."= + +Chapter 4: =commandment.= replaced by =commandment.'= + +Chapter 5: ="don't you come= replaced by =don't you come= + +Chapter 7: =Sally. I've nothin'= replaced by =Sally. "I've nothin'= + +Chapter 7: =hammer and nails."= replaced by =hammer and nails.= + +Chapter 8: =ever was tired= replaced by =ever was tried= + +Chapter 11: ="Now how is this= replaced by =Now how is this= + +Chapter 14: =truth forever.'"= replaced by =truth forever.'= + +Chapter 15: =drop the sail?= replaced by =drop the sail?"= + +Chapter 15: =old protegées= replaced by =old protégées= + +Chapter 15: =pullin' em through= replaced by =pullin' 'em through= + +Chapter 15: =what he said that for= replaced by =what he said that fur= + +Chapter 28: =Endy," said Faith", "I shouldn't= replaced by =Endy," +said Faith, "I shouldn't= + +Chapter 30: =Look Endy= replaced by =Look, Endy= + +Chapter 33: ="What's the state= replaced by =What's the state= + +Chapter 33: =make butter, she said= replaced by =make butter," she +said= + +Chapter 35: =Faith, I'm afeard!= replaced by =Faith, I'm afeard!"= + +Chapter 39: =so Dromy could do= replaced by ="so Dromy could do= + +Chapter 42: =deplaise= replaced by =déplaise= + +Chapter 43: =want anything to eat= replaced by =want anythin' to eat= + +Chapter 43: =gentleman's admiration= replaced by =gentlemen's +admiration= + +Chapter 43: =I do remember= replaced by =I do remember,= + +Chapter 43: =vous plait= replaced by =vous plaît= + +Chapter 43: =where her pleased= replaced by =where he pleased= + +Chapter 44: =been in part of= replaced by =been in part off= + +Chapter 44: ='And they overcame= replaced by ="'And they overcame= + +Chapter 44: =only to look at;"= replaced by =only to look at,"= + +Chapter 44: =O litte Mignonette= replaced by =O little Mignonette= + +Chapter 45: =heard her talking.= replaced by =heard her talking,= + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Say and Seal, Volume II, by +Susan Warner and Anna Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAY AND SEAL, VOLUME II *** + +***** This file should be named 28545-8.txt or 28545-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/5/4/28545/ + +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/28545-8.zip b/28545-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7dea861 --- /dev/null +++ b/28545-8.zip diff --git a/28545.txt b/28545.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5dd0470 --- /dev/null +++ b/28545.txt @@ -0,0 +1,23885 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Say and Seal, Volume II, 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 II + +Author: Susan Warner + Anna Warner + +Release Date: April 8, 2009 [EBook #28545] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAY AND SEAL, VOLUME II *** + + + + +Produced by Daniel Fromont + + + + + + + + + + +[Transcriber's note: Susan Warner (1819-1885) & Anna Warner +(1824-1915), _Say and seal_ (1860), Tauchnitz edition 1860 volume 2] + + + + + +COLLECTION + +OF + +BRITISH AUTHORS + + + +VOL. CCCXCIX. + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + + + +IN TWO VOLUMES. + + + +VOL. II. + + + + + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + + + +BY + +THE AUTHOR OF "WIDE WIDE WORLD," + +AND + +THE AUTHOR OF "DOLLARS AND CENTS." + + + +COPYRIGHT EDITION. + + + +IN TWO VOLUMES. + + + +VOL. II. + + + +LEIPZIG + +BERNHARD TAUCHNITZ + +1860. + + + + + + + +SAY AND SEAL. + +VOL. II. + + + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + + +So came the holiday week, wherein was to be done so much less than +usual--and so much more. Mr. Linden's work, indeed, was like to double +on all hands; for he was threatened with more tea-drinkings, dinners, +suppers, and frolics, than the week would hold. How should he manage to +give everybody a piece of him, and likewise present himself entire to +the assembled boys when ever they chose to assemble?--which promised to +be pretty often. How should he go skating, sliding, and sleigh-riding, +at all hours of the day and night, and yet spend all those hours where +he wanted to spend them? It was a grave question; and not easy, as he +remarked to Faith, to hold so many feelings in his hands and hurt none +of them. So with the question yet undecided, Christmas day came. + +It was a brilliant day--all white and blue; the sky like a sapphire, +the earth like a pearl; the sunbeams burnished gold. + + "Ha' ye but seen the light fall of the snow, + Before the soil hath smutched it?"-- + + +Such was Pattaquasset, Christmas morning. And the bright lily, + + "Before rude hands have touched it," + +that was Faith Derrick when she came down stairs. The dainty little +crimson silk hood which Mrs. Derrick had quilted for her, was in her +hand, brought down for display; but at present the sitting-room was +empty, and Faith passed on to her work-basket, to put the hood in safe +keeping. She found a pre-occupied basket. At some unknown hour of the +night, Santa Claus had come and left upon it his mark in the shape of a +package: a rather large and rather thin package, but done up with that +infallible brown paper and small cord which everybody knows by +instinct. Who ever looked twice at a parcel from _that_ wagon, and +doubted whence it came? + +Faith's cheeks took an additional tinge, quite as brilliant as if the +crimson hood had been on. What doubtful fingers lifted the package from +the basket! + +The thing--whatever it was--had been done up carefully. Beneath the +brown paper a white one revealed itself, beneath that a red leather +portfolio--made in the pretty old-fashioned style, and securing its +contents by means of its red leather tongue. But when Faith had +withdrawn this, and with the caution always exercised on such occasions +had also drawn out the contents, she found the prettiest continuation +of her Italian journey, in the shape of very fine photographs of all +sorts of Italian places and things, mingled with here and there an +excursion into the Swiss mountains. + +A few almost awe-stricken glances Faith gave; then she put the +photographs in the portfolio again, scarcely seen, and looked at the +outside of the red leather; felt of its smooth surface with admiring +fingers that hardly believed what they touched, and a face glowing with +a very deep glow by this time. Faith thought herself rich, beyond the +imagination of a millionaire. But after a little mute amazed +consideration of her happiness, she rushed off to the kitchen to +signalize the Christmas breakfast--and perhaps spend a few of her too +many thoughts--by the preparation and production of one of Madame +Danforth's nice, but in Pattaquasset unheard of, delicacies; and when +all the rest of the breakfast was ready, Faith demurely went in with +her dish. + +She had not a word of acknowledgment for Mr. Linden, which was +ungrateful. She gave him her hand, however, with a manner and look +which were graceful enough; being at once open and shy, very bright, +and yet veiled with a shade of reserve. She had been over the fire, so +her face was naturally a little rosy. There was no particular reserve +about him,--his "Merry Christmas" was not only wished but carried out, +so far as breakfast time extended. Faith might be as demure as she +liked, but she had to be merry too; so on the whole the breakfast room +was beaming with more than sunlight. Yes, it was a merry +Christmas!--merry without and merry within,--that sort of merriment +which "doeth good like a medicine." Gay voices and steps and +snowballing on the broad street; gay snowbirds and chickadees in the +branches; in the house glad faces; over and upon all, clear sunshine +and the soft hush of a winter's morning. + +"What are you going to do to-day, mother?" said Faith towards the close +of breakfast time. + +"I'd rather look at you than anything else, child," said her mother, +"but I've got to go out, you know. What are _you_ going to do Faith?" + +"All sorts of things, mother. Mr. Linden?"-- + +"All sorts of things, Miss Faith--therefore we shall probably meet +quite often in the course of the day," he said smiling. "Will you give +me any commands?" + +"Perhaps--if I can. Mother, how are we to get to Mrs. Somers +to-night?--is Crab well?" + +"O Crab's gone away for the winter, child, and we've got Mr. +Stoutenburgh's Jerry. To be sure--that's since you went away." + +The first thing for Faith was the Christmas dinner, into which she +plunged, heart and hand. The turkey, the apples, and the pies, were all +seen to at last; and about an hour before dinner Faith was ready to +take off her kitchen apron and go into the parlour. She longed for a +further touch and eyesight of that red leather. + +She had it, for that hour; as dainty a luxuriating over her treasures +as anybody ever had. Faith pondered and dreamed over the photographs, +one after another; with endless marvel and querying of numberless +questions springing out of them,--general and particular, historical, +natural, social, and artistic or scientific. Questions that sometimes +she knew only enough to form vaguely. What a looking over of prints +that was! such an hour as is known by few, few of those who have seen +engravings all their lives. Nay, further than that;--such as is not +known by many a one that stands on the Bridge of sighs, and crosses the +Mer de glace, and sees the smoke curling up from Vesuvius. For once in +a while there is an imaginary traveller at home to whom is revealed +more of the spirit of beauty residing in these things, than hundreds of +those who visit them do ever see. Who + + "Feels the warm Orient in the noontide air, + And from cloud-minarets hears the sunset call to prayer." + + +Before dinner time was quite on the stroke came home Mr. Linden, who +betaking himself first upstairs and then into the sitting-room, brought +Faith her Christmas breastknot of green and red. Stiff holly leaves, +with their glossy sheen, and bright winterberries--clear and red, set +each other off like jewellers' work; and the soft ribbon that bound +them together was of the darkest possible blue. It was as dainty a bit +of floral handicraft as Faith had often seen. + +"Will you wear it, Miss Faith?" Mr. Linden said as he laid it on the +table by her. + +Faith had come out of her dream, and gave the holly and winterberries a +downcast look of recognition. It was given in silence, but the pleasure +which had been uppermost for some time presently made her overcome +shyness, and looking up gratefully she exclaimed, "Mr. Linden--what +pleasure you have given me!"--The soft colour which had been in her +cheeks before, mounted instantly to deep crimson, and she added +timidly, "Wasn't it you?" + +"What pleasure you give me!"--he said with a smile at her crimson and +all. "Yes, it was I." + +"It seems to me I have been at those places to-day," she went on, +looking over at the sofa where her portfolio lay. "I have been fancying +your sister standing here and there and looking at something I saw in +the picture. Now I can understand a little better what she was writing +about." + +"I am very glad you like them! Some time you must let me give you any +explanations they may need. What have you found for me to do this +afternoon?" + +"Aren't you going to be busy, Mr. Linden?" + +"About something--your business shall come first." + +"It can wait," said Faith very brightly. "It was just that, Mr. +Linden.--I was going to ask you some time to shew them to me. I have +been looking at some of them by myself, and going into a great many +things over them that I could not understand. But any time will do for +that--as well as to-day." + +"And to-day as well as any time"--he said smiling; "but I suppose we +must wait till after dinner." + +There was great satisfaction at that dinner, not to say in it--which +indeed the dinner merited. There was the remaining glow of the pleasant +morning, and a little dawning of the afternoon, besides the hour's own +light. Faith indeed was the radiating point of pleasure, which the two +others watched and furnished with new supplies. Then after dinner came +the Italian work, and she had as elaborate and careful answers and +information as she wished for. Mr. Linden could go back and tell her +where each place got its name, and what had been its history, with many +stories of its climate and productions and traditions; and so one by +one Faith went over again her new treasures. One by one,--until the +short afternoon began to fade, and it was time to dress for Mrs. +Somers'; and they had made but little progress into the portfolio, +after all. Yet it was a great "progress" to Faith;--a grand procession +through the years of history and the stages of civilization and the +varying phases of nature and humanity. + +Very tenderly the photographs were restored to the portfolio and the +red leather tongue drawn through, with a little breath heavy with +pleasure, and Faith carried off the whole to be put where profane hands +should not get hold of it. Then the comparatively ignoble business of +dressing occupied her. And Mrs. Derrick yet more, who of course was +there to help and look on; while Faith's head was erratically in her +portfolio, or at Rome, or at Florence, or--elsewhere,--as the case +might be. Her dress was this evening the same she had worn to Mrs. +Stoutenburgh's, but the knot of holly and winterberries transformed her +more than the rose and myrtle had done; and she stood an undoubted +guest of Christmas night. Faith herself took somewhat of the effect, +which her thought however concentrated. + +"Mother," she said as she looked in the glass,--"I never saw anything +so pretty!" + +"Neither did I, child," said Mrs. Derrick smiling. + +Faith took still closer note of the beauty of her breastknot; and then +gathering up her crimson hood and cloak, they went down stairs. It was +not quite the hour yet for Mrs. Somers'. Mr. Linden was ready and in +the sitting-room; but Faith did not this time call his attention to her +bouquet. She came in and sat down very quietly in a corner of the sofa. +He paused in his walk up and down the room however, noting her well as +she came in and took her seat; coming presently to take one at her +side; and then catching up a book from the table he proceeded to give +her the ice palace of the little brook, with which he had threatened +her before.-- + + "Down swept the cold wind from the mountain peak, + From the snow five thousand summers old"--etc. + + +"O," exclaimed Faith, "I have seen just such a brook! I have played in +it; when mother was afraid I should take cold, and wouldn't let me +stay. But that's as good as the brook," she added timidly. + +"Without the danger of taking cold. You are quite sure it has not +chilled you, Miss Faith?--do you feel 'winter-proof'?" + +"I think I do, for to-day," said Faith. "If the evening were to be even +very disagreeable, I think I could stand it." + +Which remark was perhaps significant. + +The tinkle of Jerry's bells now made itself heard at the door, and +Faith was shawled and cloaked and wrapped up by her mother in the house +and by Mr. Linden in the sleigh. He was more skilful about it than +Squire Stoutenburgh; and contrived to enclose Faith in a little wigwam +of buffalo robes, without letting her feel the weight of them. Then +they dashed off--Jerry well disposed for exercise after his five +minutes' stand, and spurning the snow from a light enough pair of +heels. How merrily the bells jingled! how calmly and steadily the stars +shone down! There was no moon now, but the whitened earth caught and +reflected every bit of the starlight, and made it by no means dark; and +the gleams from cottage windows came out and fell on the snow in little +streaks of brightness. Sleighs enough abroad!--from the swift little +cutters and large family sleighs that glided on towards the parsonage, +down to sledding parties of boys, cheered only by a cow-bell and their +own laughter. Tinkle, tinkle--everywhere,--near by and in the distance; +the dark figures just casting a light shadow on the roadside, the merry +voices ignoring anything of the kind. + +Mrs. Somers' house was a good long drive from Mrs. Derrick's. The road +was first on the way to Mr. Simlins'; from there it turned off at right +angles and went winding crookedly down a solitary piece of country; +rising and falling over uneven ground, twisting out of the way of a +rock here and there, and for some distance skirting the edge of a +woodland. There was light enough to see by, but it was not just the +piece of road one would choose of a dark night; and Faith felt thankful +Squire Deacon was gone to Egypt. + + + +CHAPTER II. + + + +In the dressing-room Faith was seized upon in the warmest manner by +Mrs. Stoutenburgh, who looked very pretty in her dress of bright +crimson silk. + +"I'm so glad you've come back, dear. And how well you're looking!--a +little thin, though. But you'll soon make up for that. You're just as +lovely as you can be, Faith--do you know it?" + +"No, ma'am."--Her _flowers_, she knew, were as lovely as they could be. +"Jerry brought us, Mrs. Stoutenburgh, after all, and pretty fast too." + +"O he can go fast enough. You needn't look so sober, child--of course +no one thinks so but me, and nobody ever minds what I say. _That's_ +pretty, I suppose you'll allow," she said laughing, and bending down +closer to Faith's holly leaves,--"what is it, Faith? basswood?" + +"Don't you know holly, Mrs. Stoutenburgh? And the berries are +winterberries." + +"Yes my dear--I perceive. You mustn't get angry with me, child--I tell +you nobody does, not even your grave escort. At least not for anything +I do to _him_. Well I'll go down and electrify people with the news +that you're coming." And the crimson dress floated off to the tune of a +light step and a merry voice. And more slowly and more doubtfully the +black dress and winterberries followed her. Perhaps in very truth Faith +would have been willing that Mr. Stoutenburgh should have taken her +under his broad wing for that going down stairs. At least she was as +absolutely grave and quiet as anybody ever saw her, and a little more +inclined to be shrinking. But Mr. Linden was alone in the hall at that +minute, so there was no one else to shrink from; and if Faith wanted to +shrink from him, she hardly could,--there was such an absence of +anything to alarm her, both in his look and manner. Therefore, though +she had to go down stairs upon his arm, and pass sundry people on their +way up, Faith felt that he was a shield between her and the glances and +words which he so little regarded. Eyes and tongues indeed ventured hut +little in his presence; but that protection of course extended only to +the centre of the drawing-room, and the welcome which Faith received +from Mrs. Somers,--then she must shield herself. Then truly, for a +while, she was taken possession of by Squire Stoutenburgh, who walked +with her up and down, and said all manner of kind things. + +Faith had no particular skill to shield herself from anything, and +indeed gave herself no thought about it. She took what came, in a +simple and quiet spirit, which was very apt to strike like a bee the +right part of every flower; or that perhaps carried its own honey +along. So she walked up and down with Mr. Stoutenburgh; and so she +afterwards entered into the demands of a posse of her old and young +friends who had not seen her for a good while. + +Amidst a little group of these people, collected benignly around Faith, +Dr. Harrison presently intruded himself. Now Dr. Harrison was a lion, +and the smaller animals naturally fell off from him, which was +precisely what he expected them to do. The doctor had the field soon +clear. + +"What have you been doing to yourself?" he said to Faith with the +kindly, familiar manner which had grown up between them. + +"Taking good care,"--she said, in smiling answer to his question. + +"Who took the care? yourself?" + +"Yes." + +"I thought so." + +"Why, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Excuse me," said he. "Anybody else would have done it better." + +"No," said she shaking her head,--"you are wrong." + +"You have been--" said he, looking at her,--"you have been 'doing your +duty' too hard." + +"Can one do that, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Certainly!" + +"I haven't been doing it this time." + +"Do you remember," he said sitting down by her and lowering his +voice,--"what you said once about the flowers of the wilderness?" + +"Yes." + +"Would you like to see some of them?" + +"In the wilderness?" + +"No," said he smiling. "I can shew you one family of them, by their +portraits, here--to-night." + +"I would like to see them in the wilderness or anywhere!" said Faith. + +"Then if you'll come with me"-- + +And the next thing was Dr. Harrison's walking off the black silk and +winterberries before all the eyes of the people and through one room +after another, till a little one-side room was reached which was not a +thoroughfare to anything. In this little room was a table and a lamp +upon it, and also several very large thin books. There was also, which +was singular, a very comfortable easy chair. In this Dr. Harrison +installed his charge close by the table, and drew up one of the volumes. + +"I am going to introduce to you," he said, "the whole family of the +Rhododendrons." + +"Rhododendron?"--said Faith. "I never saw them." + +"It is their loss," said the doctor; "but here they are." + +It was as he said;--the whole family of the plant, in the most superb +style of portraiture and presentation. Full size and full colour; one +of the most magnificent of such works. Faith had never seen a +Rhododendron, and even in her dreams had never visited a wilderness +where such flowers grew. Her exquisite delight fully satisfied Dr. +Harrison, and quite kept her attention from herself and the fact of her +being shut off from the rest of the company. Now and then one and +another would drop in and look at what they were about, with curiosity +if not with sympathy; but Rhododendrons were not alluring to most of +the people, nor to say truth was Dr. Harrison. With most urbane +politeness he dispersed any desire to remain and look over his +proceedings which might have been felt by some of the intruders; or +contrived that they should find nothing to detain them. + +It was a long business, to turn over all those delicious portraits of +floral life and give anything like a sufficient look at each one. Such +glories of vegetable beauty Faith had never imagined. It was almost a +new revelation. There were deep brilliant crimsons; there was the +loveliest rose-colour, in large heads of the close elegant flowers; +there were, larger still and almost incredible in their magnificence, +enormous clusters of cream-coloured and tinted and even of buff. There +were smaller and humbler members of the family, which would have been +glorious in any other companionship. There were residents of the rich +regions of the tropics; and less superb members of the temperate zones; +there were trees and shrubs; and there were little bushy, hardy +denizens of the highest and barrenest elevations of rocks and snow to +which inflorescence ever climbs. Faith almost caught her breath. + +"And these are in the wilderness!" she said. + +"Yes. What then?" said the doctor. Faith did not say. + +"You are thinking they 'waste their sweetness'?" + +"O no, indeed! I don't think that." + +"You are thinking something. Please let me be the better for it." + +"One ought to be the better for it," said Faith. + +"Then I hope you won't refuse it to me," said Dr. Harrison gently +laughing at her. + +"I was thinking, Dr Harrison, what the Bible says,--'He hath made +everything beautiful in his time';--and, 'God saw everything that he +had made, and behold it was very good.'" + +The doctor turned over the leaf to a new Rhododendron. Faith's thoughts +went to Pequot, and her heart gave a bound of joy at the remembrance of +the sick woman there. + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh's crimson dress was so softly worn and managed, that +the wearer thereof was close in Dr. Harrison's neighbourhood for a +minute before he was aware of her presence; which quiet motions, it +should be observed, were habitual to Mrs. Stoutenburgh, and not at all +assumed for the occasion. Therefore it was with no idea of startling +anybody, that she said presently, "My dear Faith, what _are_ you +looking at through those Rhododendrons?" Faith started, and looked up +with a bit of a smile. + +"What do you see, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" said the doctor. + +"O several things," said the lady, passing her hand softly over Faith's +brow, and then with one of her sudden impulses putting her lips there. +"Do you like them, Faith?" + +"Does not Mrs. Stoutenburgh like them?" said the doctor, as he placed a +chair for her in the best position left for seeing. + +"Thank you," said she laughing. "I came here to be seen this evening. +And so ought some other people. How much do you pay for the monopoly, +doctor?" + +"I really don't know!" said Dr. Harrison with a very slight rise of his +handsome eyebrows. "I am in Pattaquasset--which is to me a region of +uncertainties. You will know better than I, Mrs. Stoutenburgh." + +"Well," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh with a wicked look at the doctor for his +sole benefit,--"speaking of Rhododendrons, which you've seen often +enough before,--don't you admire _this_--which you have _not_ seen +before?" and she touched Faith's holly leaves with the tip of her +little glove. "I should think it must stir what Mr. Linden calls your +'nerves of pleasant sensation'." + +"I am honoured by your estimation," said the doctor laughing slightly. +"Miss Derrick's taste is matchless. It is an act of benevolence for her +to wear flowers." + +Faith's very brow crimsoned, till she bent it from view as much as she +could. In all her truth she could not rise up there and confess that +her skill was not the skill to be commended. She wanted a shield then. + +"Don't flatter yourself that you are an object of charity," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh turning over another leaf to give Faith employment. +"They're talking of games in the other room, dear," she added in a +gentle voice,--"may I tell Mrs. Somers you will play too?" + +"Yes ma'am, certainly!" + +"They're not ready yet--sit still and enjoy your prints--I'll see what +they are about." And the lady left the room. Dr. Harrison sought some +particularly fine specimens and engaged Faith in talk about them and +their localities and habits, till her self-possession was restored. + +"Have you heard the news about Mr. Linden?" he asked with most +nonchalant carelessness. + +"What news?" said Faith, doubtful whether he meant Squire +Stoutenburgh's chapter or some other. + +"Then he hasn't told you himself?" + +"No," said Faith. + +"I thought you ought to be authority," the doctor went on in the same +tone. "It is very good news--for him--I hope it is true. They say--I +have heard,--how beautiful the droop of those petals is!--and the shade +of colour is rare--They say, that he has a very dear friend abroad; I +mean in Europe, somewhere. Do you think it is true?" + +"Yes," said Faith. She thought it was not wonderful news. + +"I mean a lady friend?" said the doctor. + +"Yes," said Faith again. She knew now what the doctor meant, but she +did not feel inclined to enter into the subject or to enlighten him at +all. Then too Mr. Linden might have more friends than _one_ abroad!--It +flashed upon her like a curious illumination. + +"Then the story is true?" said the doctor. + +"I don't know, sir," said Faith in some distress. "I know nothing about +it." + +"But you don't know that it is not true?" said he looking at her. + +"No, sir. I don't know." + +Dr. Harrison's further questions and remarks were cut short by the +entrance of the very person referred to; who coming up with his usual +light, alert step, held out his hand first of all to the questioner. + +"Good evening, doctor!--how do you do again? Miss Faith, may I take you +away from these beauties?" And the released hand was offered to her. +She put hers in it very willingly but very silently; Faith dared not +say a word to him about the Rhododendrons or about anything else. + +"Ah, you have two hands again," said Dr. Harrison, "and you turn it +against me!" + +"Not that fact--" Mr. Linden said as he went off. And then slackening +his step, he talked or made Faith talk--and laugh--every inch of the +way into the room where all the rest were clustered ready for blind +man's buff. It was a triumph of his skill,--or of his power,--for she +had left the Rhododendrons in a mood most shy and quiet, and disposed +to keep so. Dr. Harrison had not followed them, but soon made his +entrance upon the company by another door. + +"What is going on? or off, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" he whispered to that +lady. + +"Why the bandage is going on, and we're going off," said she laughing. +"Will you be blinded first, doctor?" + +"Blind man's buff!" said the doctor shrugging his shoulders comically. +"Barbarous! I would rather 'go off' too--but anything to please you, +Mrs. Stoutenburgh. A game to see how much a man without his five senses +can do against other people who have them." But the doctor gallantly +stepped up to Mrs. Somers. + +"I represent the forlorn hope for the evening, aunt Ellen. Has anybody +volunteered to be the first victim?" + +"You are the last person in the room that ought to volunteer," said +Mrs. Somers,--"however, blindness is proverbial in some cases. Miss +Essie will bandage your eyes, Julius--and use her own for you in the +meanwhile, I dare say. Miss Essie, here is a candidate." + +"Not for Miss Essie's good offices!" said the doctor. "I know her. I +shall not trust her. I will put myself in safe hands." + +And with an inexpressible air of carelessness and easy pleasure-taking, +Dr. Harrison carried his handsome person across the room to where Faith +yet stood by the side of Mr. Linden; stood looking rather sober. She +had not brought any of the rosy Rhododendron colour away in her face; +or else it had faded. The doctor came up and spoke in an undertone as +wilfully and gracefully independent as his manner. + +"If I ask you to do me the honour to put this handkerchief over my +eyes, Miss Derrick, I suppose you will not know what it signifies?" + +"No, sir," said Faith, with a very slight smile and extra colour. + +"Where I have been," said the doctor,--"where we never play it!--it is +played in this way. My entreating you to blind my eyes, signifies that +without them I shall endeavour to find you." + +"Then I wish you'd get somebody else to do it, Dr. Harrison." + +"You are not in earnest?" said the doctor. + +"Very much in earnest." + +"But I should observe," said he smiling, "that even the unkindness of +your refusal would not change my endeavour. I only give you, as in +honour bound, the chance of doing all you can to prevent my succeeding. +Will you do it?" + +He tendered the handkerchief. Faith coloured a little more, but to put +a stop to his absurdities, as they seemed to her, and to her consequent +prominence before the eyes of people, she accepted the office. Dr. +Harrison kneeled at her feet, and Faith put the handkerchief round his +eyes and tied it on; endeavouring, to do her justice, to perform the +task thoroughly. She was not quite sure how well it was done, after +all,--for the doctor had interposed a gentle "Softly," as she was +drawing the knot and had at the same time also raised his hand to ease +the bandage. But Faith had to let it go so; and simply resolved to take +care of herself. + +Many eyes, meanwhile, surveyed this performance with much edification, +glancing too at the motionless figure who at Faith's side looked down +upon it. But when the smile in those eyes touched the lips as well, +Mrs. Stoutenburgh was roused to a pitch of delight; and running into +the middle of the room to meet the doctor as he came to take his stand, +she clapped her hands exclaiming, "O, doctor! doctor!--how could you +let anybody tie anything over your eyes!" + +"Is there treachery, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" said the doctor with a comic +stop. + +"Where?"--said the lady. + +"Nay,--I know where," said the doctor. And turning from her he +addressed himself to the game. + +But though Dr. Harrison shewed himself a keen player the game came to +no sudden termination. And Faith could not help doubting that her work +had not been too effectual. It was beyond question, even if she had not +been forewarned, that the doctor was endeavouring to find--or +endeavouring to catch her. In vain Mrs. Stoutenburgh's crimson and Miss +Essie's blue floated past him and rustled behind him. In vain Mrs. +Somers' purple stood in his way. The skirt of that one black silk could +go nowhere that some one of the doctor's senses did not inform him of +it. Closely he followed upon her flight, and keen work Faith found it, +play as well as she would. She began to get out of breath, and the +amusement and fun grew uproarious. + +It was when her foot was failing that the doctor's gained strength: +between him and the prize there was now no barrier; no leap could avail +Faith in the corner where she was at last hemmed in. Slowly and +securely the doctor advanced, first himself and then his hands, and +caught--Mr Linden! Caught him unmistakeably too,--there was no help for +it; and Dr. Harrison in his astonishment forgot to pronounce him +somebody else! + +"Confound you!" said the doctor slowly and comically--"how did you get +here?" + +"Are you fatigued?" said Mr. Linden, taking off the bandage. "Miss +Faith, you did _this_ part of your work very ill." + +"How did you get here?" repeated the doctor, taking hold of his arm and +shaking it slightly. "I wasn't looking for _you_, man." + +"What were you _looking_ for?" said Mr. Linden, with a laughing return +of the doctor's gaze. + +"Shall I put that on for you?" said the latter with a sort of +complicate expression, which however never lost its grace and ease. And +then began another chase--but not of Faith this time,--perhaps Mr. +Linden thought she needed rest. And the changes ran round the company, +but never (as it happened) including Faith or Dr. Harrison, until they +reached the finishing round of the game. Then it was Mr. Linden's turn +again to wear the bandage, and then he gave Faith the sort of run he +had given her before at Mrs. Stoutenburgh's--and with the same success. + +"Haven't they played blind man's buff long enough?" Faith whispered, +when the bandage was taken off her captor. She was flushed, a little, +and sober more than a little. + +"Yes--I will move a change," he answered in the same tone. Which he +did, after a short consultation. + +"Dr. Harrison--you have seen the 'Butterfly,' I suppose?" + +"_The_ butterfly?" said the doctor. "I have seen many--of all colours; +but the butterfly par excellence, I know not. Unless it is one with +white wings and black body, and spots of most brilliant red on the +breast." + +"The one I mean combines more colours," said Mr. Linden. "What were you +doing in France, not to see it?" + +"Seeing other things, I suppose. However, now you speak of it, I +believe that butterfly has flown over me--sometime." + +"Please to imagine yourself a gay rover for the nonce," said Mr. +Linden, leading the doctor persuasively into the middle of the floor. +"Just suppose you are a Purple Emperor--will you doctor? Miss Essie +wants a story and forfeits,--I shall leave you to gratify her." But he +himself went to give Miss Faith a seat. That was done with a very +different manner from the gay, genial way in which he had addressed the +doctor: it was genial enough, certainly, but grave. + +"You do not feel well?" he said, as he wheeled up an easy chair for +her. It was spoken too low for any one else to hear. + +"Yes, I do,"--said Faith quickly. But her face flushed deep, and her +eye though it glanced towards him, failed timidly of meeting his; and +her voice had lost all the spring of pleasure. + +"Then cannot you keep the promise you made about a disagreeable +evening?" The tone was very low still--(he was arranging her footstool +and chair) a little concerned too, a little--or Faith fancied it--but +indeed she was not quite sure what the third part was; and then the +doctor began his work. + +For a minute or two she did not hear him, or heard without heed. She +was thinking over Mr. Linden's question and struggling with it. For its +slight tone, of remonstrance perhaps, only met and stirred into life +the feeling she was trying to keep down. Her lip took one of its +sorrowful curves for an instant; but then Dr. Harrison came towards +them. + +"What insect on the face of the earth, Linden, will you be? What does +he resemble most, Miss Derrick?" + +"I am not particular about being on the face of the earth," said Mr. +Linden,--"the air will do just as well." + +The doctor was waiting for Faith's answer. Under the exigency of the +moment she gave it him, glancing up first at the figure beside her, +perhaps to refresh her memory--or imagination--and smiling a little as +she spoke. + +"I don't think of any he is like, Dr. Harrison." + +"Do you think I am like a purple butterfly?" said the doctor. + +"Yes, a little,"--said Faith. But it was with a face of such childlike +soberness that the doctor looked hard at her. + +"What do you think you are like yourself?" said he; not lightly. + +"I think I am a little like an ant," said Faith. + +The doctor turned half round on his heel. + +"'Angels and ministers of grace'!" was his exclamation. "Most winged, +gentle, and etherial of all the dwellers in, or on, anthills,--know +that thy similitude is nothing meaner than a flower. You must take the +name of one, Miss Faith--all the ladies do--what will you be?" + +"What will you be?" Mr. Linden repeated,--"Mignonette?--that is even +below the level of some of your anthills." + +"If you please,"--she said. + +"Or one of your Rhododendrons?" said the doctor--"that is better; for +you have the art--or the nature, indeed,--of representing all the tints +of the family by turns--except the unlovely ones. Be a Rhodora!" + +"No"--said Faith--"I am not like that--nor like the other, but I will +be the other." + +"Mignonette"--said the doctor. "Well, what shall we call him? what is +_he_ like?" + +"I think," said Faith, looking down very gravely, not with the flashing +eye with which she would have said it another time,--"he is most like a +midge." + +The little laugh which answered her, the way in which Mr. Linden bent +down and said, "How do you know, Miss Faith?" were slightly mystifying +to Dr. Harrison. + +"I don't know,"--she said smiling; and the doctor with one or two looks +of very ungratified curiosity left them and returned to his post. + +"What are they going to play, Mr. Linden?" said Faith. The doctor's +explanation, given to the rest generally, she had not heard. + +"Do you know what a family connexion you have given me, Miss +Faith?--The proverb declares that 'the mother of mischief is no bigger +than a midge's wing.'" + +An involuntary little caught breath attested perhaps Faith's +acquiescence in the truth of the proverb; but the doctor's words +prevented the necessity of her speaking. + +"Miss Essie--Ladies and gentlemen! Please answer to your names, and +thereby proclaim your characters. Mrs. Stoutenburgh, what are you?" + +"A poppy, I think," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing. "I like to be +beforehand with the public." + +"Will you please to name your lord and master? He is incapable of +naming himself." + +"I think you've named him!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh with a gay toss of +her pretty head. "I'm not learned in insects, doctor,--call him +anything that eats up butter-flies." + +"Mr. Stoutenburgh will--you be a grub?" said the doctor. "Or a beetle? +I don't know anything else that I--as a butterfly--dislike more." + +"No, I'll be a cricket--I'm so spry," said the Squire,--"and I'll be +down upon _you_ in some other form, doctor." + +"You'll have to fly higher first," said the doctor. "Miss Essie +declares herself to be a purple Althaea. Miss Davids--an evening +primrose. Miss Deacon--a cluster rose. Miss Fax--a sweet pink. Miss +Chester--a daisy. Miss Bezac--what shall I put you down?" The butterfly +was making a list of his flowers and insects, and cards had been +furnished to the different members of the party, and pencils, to do as +much for themselves. + +"I'd as lieve be balm as anything else, if I knew how," said Miss +Bezac; "but I shouldn't call _that_ putting me down." + +"That fits, anyhow," said Squire Stoutenburgh. + +"'Balm for hurt minds'"--said Dr. Harrison writing. "Miss Julia De +Staff is a white lily. Miss Emmons--a morning glory. Mrs. Churchill a +peony. Miss Derrick is mignonette. Mrs. Somers--?" + +"I may as well be lavender," said Mrs. Somers. "You say I am in a good +state of preservation." + +"What is Mr. Somers?" + +"Mr. Somers--what are you?" said his wife. + +"Ha!--I don't know, my dear," said Mr. Somers blandly. "I think I +am--a--out of place." + +"Then you're a moth," said the doctor. "That is out of place too, in +most people's opinion. Miss Delaney, I beg your pardon--what are you?" + +"Here are the two Miss Churchills, doctor," said Miss Essie--"hyacinth +and laburnum." + +"I am sure you have been sponsor, Miss Essie. Well this is my garden of +flowers. Then of fellow insects I have a somewhat confused variety. Mr. +Stoutenburgh sings round his hearth in the shape of a black cricket. +Mr. Linden passes unnoticed in the invisibility of a midge--nothing +more dangerous. Mr. Somers does all the mischief he can in the way of +devouring widows' houses. The two Messrs. De Staff" (two very spruce +and moustachioed young gentlemen) "figure as wasp and snail--one would +hardly think they belonged to the same family--but there is no +accounting for these things. Mr. George Somers professes to have the +taste of a bee--but luckily the garden belongs to the butterfly." + +"In other words, some one has put Dr. Harrison in a flutter," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh. + +"I haven't begun yet," said the doctor wheeling round to face her; +"when I do, my first business will be to cut you up, Mrs. Stoutenburgh." + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden while the roll went on, "I have not +forgotten your question,--they, and we, are going to play a French game +called 'the Butterfly and the Flowers;' wherein I, a midge, am in +humble attendance oh a sprig of mignonette. Whenever our butterfly +gardener chooses to speak the name of any flower or insect, that Flower +or insect must reply: when he speaks of the gardener, you flowers must +extend one hand in token of welcome, we insects draw back in dismay: if +the gardener brings his watering-pot, or there falls a shower of rain, +you must hold up your head for joy--I must kneel down for fear. If the +sunshine is mentioned, we are free to rejoice together--standing up and +making demonstrations. You may reply, Miss Faith, either in your own +words or quotations, so that you mention some one of your companions; +but if you fail to speak, or break any other rule, you must pay a +forfeit first and redeem it afterwards." + +"I may mention either insect or flower?" said Faith. + +"Yes, just what you like." + +"If everybody is ready," said the doctor, "I will begin by remarking +that I find myself in an 'embarras de richesses'--so many sweets around +me that I--a butterfly--know not which to taste first; and such an +array of enemies, hostile alike to the flowers and me, that I know not +which to demolish first. I hope a demolishing rain will fall some of +these days--ah! that is gratifying! behold my enemies shrinking +already, while the flowers lift up their heads with pleasure and warm +themselves in the rays of the sun. What is mignonette doing?" + +There was a general outcry of laughter, for as the gentlemen had +kneeled and bent their heads, and the flowers had risen to greet the +sun,--Faith, in her amusement and preoccupation had sat still. She rose +now, blushing a little at being called upon. + +"Mignonette loves the sun without making any show for it. She has no +face to lift up like the white lily." + +"The white lily isn't sweet like lavender," said Miss Julia. + +"And the lavender has more to do in the linen press than among +butterflies," said Mrs. Somers. + +"It is good to know one's place," said the doctor. "But the butterfly, +seeking a safe resting place, flutters with unpoised flight, past the +false poppy which flaunts its gay colours on the sight." + +"And fixes its eyes on the distant gardener with his watering-pot," +said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, stretching forth her hand, sibyl-like, towards +the now prostrate doctor,--"whereat the mignonette rejoices." + +"All the flowers rejoice," said the mignonette, "and the cricket jumps +out of the way." + +"Into the sunshine"--said Mr. Stoutenburgh, laughing;--"but the moth +feels doubtful." + +"The moth"--said Mr. Somers--"he--don't like the sunshine so well as +the rain. He--ha--he wishes he was a midge there, to get under shelter." + +"A midge _here_ he can't be," said Mr. Linden, dropping his voice for +Faith's benefit,--"'Two suns hold not their courses in one +sphere!'"--Then aloud--"Invisibility is a great thing--when you can +make up your mind to it, but 'Althaea with the purple eye' looks on +life differently." + +"I look on it soberly," said Miss Essie.-- + + "'Flutter he, flutter he, high as he will, + A butterfly is but a butterfly still. + And 'tis better for us to remain where we are, + In the lowly valley of duty and care, + Than lonely to soar to the heights above, + Where there's nothing to do and nothing to love.'" + + +"I'll flutter no more! after that"--said the doctor. "I'll creep into +the heart of the white lily and beg it to shelter me." + +"It won't hide you from the sun nor from the rain," said the white +lily,--"and I'd as lieve shelter a spider besides." + +Faith forgot again that she must welcome the sun; but she was not the +only one who had incurred forfeits. Nor the last one who should. For +while that interesting member of society who called himself spider, +made his reply, Mr. Linden's attention naturally wandered--or came +back; and the lively dialogue which then ensued between Messrs. Snail, +Wasp, Beetle, etc. failed to arouse him to the duties of a midge or the +fear of the gardener: he forgot everything else in the pleasure of +making Mignonette laugh. Standing half before her at last, in some +animated bit of talk, more than one sunbeam and watering-pot had come +and gone, unnoticed by both midge and mignonette,--a fact of which some +other people took note, and smilingly marked down the forfeits. + +"Mr. Linden"--said the voice of Miss Essie at his elbow--"do you know +what the doctor is saying?--'The mother of mischief is no bigger than a +midge's wing!' You'd better speak to him." + +Mr. Linden turned, with a laughing, recollective glance-- + +"Who speaks slightingly of the midge?--let him have a dose of syrup of +poppies!" + +"I guess you can find balm," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh gaily. + +"He shall have it if he wants it," said Miss Bezac--"that is if _I_'ve +got it,--though I rather guess he's got it himself,--I'm sure I don't +know what he hasn't got. And it don't strike me he looks as if he +wanted it, either, if I _had_. But it's funny I should and not the +doctor--though to be sure most things are,--and _he_'s gone to 'the +butterfly's ball and the grasshopper's feast.'" + +"The grasshopper's feast being just now announced," said Mrs. Somers +stepping forward, "I shall hope to set the flowers free from their +natural enemies without more delay." + +"I shall not confess to that!" said Mr. Linden under-tone. "But will +you come, Miss Faith--the insects are all gone-- + + 'Save the few that linger, even yet, + Round the Alyssum's tuft and the Mignonette.'" + + +The midge's prompt action had perhaps disappointed several other +people. Dr. Harrison at any rate contrived with Miss Essie to be the +immediately preceding couple in the walk to the supper-room. + +"I'm glad of some refreshment!" said the doctor; "butterflies cannot +live on the wing. Linden! have you been singing all the evening, in the +character of a midge?" + +"No," said Mr. Linden--"all the singing I have done has been in my own +character." + +"I am glad to hear it. By the way," said Dr. Harrison as they reached +the supper-room and paired off from their respective charges,--"I am +sorry to hear that Pattaquasset has no hold on you, Linden." + +"Indeed?" said Mr. Linden,--an "indeed" which might refer to the +doctor's sorrow, or the supposed fact. + +"Nay I know nothing about it!" said the doctor lightly as he attacked +the supper-table--"but Miss Derrick tells me it is true that your heart +is in another place." + +"Dr. Harrison!" Mr. Linden said, with a momentary erectness of +position. But he said no more; turning off then towards Faith with her +oysters. And the gentle respect and quick attention with which she was +served, Faith might feel, and take note of--yet not guess that its +peculiar tone this night was warring, hand to hand, with the injustice +done her name. The doctor had unwittingly betrayed at least one point +of talk held over the Rhododendrons--furnished a clue he dreamed not +of; and stirred a power of displeasure which perhaps he thought Mr. +Linden did not possess. + +Faith did not indeed guess anything from the manner of the latter to +her, although she felt it; she felt it as his own, kind and watchful +and even affectionate; but like him, belonging to him, and therefore +not telling upon the question. With a very humbled and self-chiding +spirit, she was endeavouring to keep the face and manner which suited +the place, above a deep sinking of heart which was almost overcoming. +Her success was like the balance of her mind--doubtful. Gentle her face +was as ever; all the crosses of the evening had not brought an angle +there; but it was shadowed beyond the fitness of things; and she was +still and retiring so far as it was possible to be, shrinking into a +very child's lowness of place. + +Ladies were in the majority that night and the gentlemen were obliged +to be constantly on the move. In one of the minutes when Faith was +alone, Mrs. Stoutenburgh came up. + +"Faith," she whispered, "have you been doing anything to vex my friend?" + +Faith started a little, with a sort of shadow of pain crossing her face. + +"Who is your friend, Mrs. Stoutenburgh?" + +"Hush, child!" she answered--"_your_ friend, if you like it better." +And she added softly but seriously, "Don't vex him,--he doesn't deserve +it." + +Faith's lip was that touchingly sorrowful child's lip for an instant. +She was beyond speaking. Then came up help, in the shape of Miss Essie; +with questions about the forfeits and about Mr. Linden. All Mrs. +Stoutenburgh's kindness made itself into a screen for Faith, on the +instant,--neither eyes nor tongues were allowed to come near her. + +"Mr. Linden!" said Miss Essie as he just then came up, "will you help +us give out forfeits? Who do you think is best to do it?" + +"Mr. Linden," said Mrs. Somers, "we are all very anxious to know +whether all the reports about you are true." + +Mr. Linden bowed to the anxiety, but gave it no further heed. + +"Are they?" she repeated. + +"Do all the reports agree, Mrs. Somers?" + +"I must confess they are at swords' points." + +"Then they cannot all be true,--let them fight it out." + +"But suppose some of the fighting should come upon you?" + +"That is a supposition I have just refused to take up," said Mr. +Linden, stepping towards the table and bringing a bunch of grapes to +Faith's plate. + +"Yes, but everybody hasn't the patience of Job," said Mrs. Somers. +"Julius, for instance." + +"He has at least his own ways of obtaining information," said Mr. +Linden, and Faith felt the slight change of voice. "Miss Essie, what +will you have?" + +"Has the doctor any forfeits to pay?" was the somewhat irrelevant +answer. "I should so like to see you two set against each other! Dr. +Harrison!--have you any forfeits?" + +"No," said the doctor;--"but as severe service to perform as if I had. +Linden, we shall want your help--it's too much for one man." + +Faith edged away behind this growing knot of talkers, and presently was +deeply engaged in conversation with Miss Cecilia Deacon, at a table in +the corner, and alternating her attention between grapes and words. +Then Squire Stoutenburgh walked softly up and stood behind Faith's +chair. + +"My dear, will you have anything more?" + +"No, sir, thank you." + +"Then I am going to carry you off!" said the Squire,--"if I wait a +quarter of a second more I shall lose my chance. Come!" + +Faith was very willing to come, indeed; and they went back to the +drawing-room, all the company pouring after them; and Faith feeling as +if she had got under a kind of lee shore, on Mr. Stoutenburgh's arm. It +could not shelter her long, for the forfeits began. + +The doctor and Mr. Linden, with Miss Essie and Mrs. Stoutenburgh for +coadjutors, were constituted the awarding committee; and the forfeits +were distributed to them indifferently. There were many to be redeemed; +and at first there was a crowd of inferior interest, Messrs. Spider and +Wasp, Mesdemoiselles White Lily and Cluster rose; who were easily +disposed of and gallantly dismissed. But there were others behind. One +of Faith's forfeits came up; it was held by Dr. Harrison. + +"Please to stand forth, Miss Derrick, and hear your sentence," said the +doctor, leading her to a central position in the floor; which Faith +took quietly, but with what inward rebellion one or two people could +somewhat guess. + +"Have the goodness to state to the company what you consider to be the +most admirable and praiseworthy of all the characters of flowers within +your knowledge; and to describe the same, that we may judge of the +justness of your opinion." + +"Describe the character?" said Faith in a low voice. + +"Yes. If you please." + +She stood silent a moment, with downcast eyes, and did not raise them +when she spoke. Her colour was hardly heightened, and though her voice +rose little above its former pitch, its sweet accents were perfectly +audible everywhere. The picture would have been enough for her forfeit. + +"The prettiest character of a flower that I know, is that of a little +species of Rhododendron. It is one of the least handsome, to look at, +of all its family; its beauty is in its living. It grows on the high +places of high mountains, where frost and barrenness give it no help +nor chance; but there, where no other flower ever blossoms, it opens +its flowers patiently and perseveringly; and its flowers are very +sweet. Nothing checks it nor discourages it. As soon as the great cold +lets it come, it comes; and as long as the least mildness lets it stay, +it stays. Amidst snow and tempest and desolation it opens its blossoms +and spreads its sweetness, with nobody to see it nor to praise it; +where from the nature of the place it lives in, its work is all alone. +For no other flower will bear what it bears.--Will that do?" said +Faith, looking up gravely at her questioner. + +Very gently, very reverently even, he took her hand, put it upon his +arm and led her to a seat, speaking as he went low words of gratified +pardon asking. "You must forgive me!" he said. "Forfeits must be +forfeits, you know. I couldn't resist the temptation." + +"Now wasn't that pretty?" whispered Miss Essie in the mean time in Mr. +Linden's ear. + +He had listened, leaning against the mantelpiece, and with shaded eyes +looking down; and now to Miss Essie's question returned only a grave +bend of the head. + +"If you have been looking at the floor all this while, you have lost +something," said the lady. "Do you know your turn comes next? Mr. +Linden--ladies and gentlemen!--is condemned to tell us what he holds +the most precious thing in this world; and to justify himself in his +opinion by an argument, a quotation, and an illustration!"-- + +"Now will he find means to evade his sentence!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh +laughing. + +"He has confessed himself addicted to witchcraft in my hearing," said +the doctor, who had remained standing by Faith's chair. + +"The most precious thing in the world," said Mr. Linden, in a tone as +carelessly graceful as his attitude, "is that which cannot be +bought,--for if money could buy it, then were money equally valuable. +Take for illustration, the perfection of a friend." + +"_I_ don't understand,"--said Miss Essie; "but perhaps I shall when I +hear the rest." + +He smiled a little and gave the quotation on that point in his own +clear and perfect manner. + + "'A sweet, attractive kind of grace; + A full assurance given by looks; + Continual comfort in a face; + The lineaments of gospel books,-- + I trow that countenance cannot lye + Whose thoughts are legible in the eye.'" + + +The quotation was received variously, but in general with vast +admiration. Miss Essie turned to Mrs. Stoutenburgh and remarked, half +loud, + +"_That's_ easy to understand. I was dull." + +"What do you think of it?" said the doctor softly, stooping towards +Faith. But if she heard she did not answer him. She sat with downcast +eyes that did not move. She had been wondering whether that was a +description of "Pet,"--or of somebody else. + +"Faith," whispered Mrs. Stoutenburgh's kind mischievous voice in her +ear,--"in whose face do you suppose he finds 'continual comfort'?" But +she was sorry the next instant, for the pained, startled look which +flashed up at her. Sorry and yet amused--the soft little kiss on +Faith's cheek was smiling although apologetic. + +"Mr. Linden," said the doctor, who held the bag of forfeits,--"it is +your duty to punish Miss Essie with some infliction, such as you can +devise." + +"Miss Essie," said Mr. Linden, walking gravely up to her, "if there is +any person in this room towards whom you entertain and practise +malicious, mischievous, and underhand designs, you are hereby sentenced +to indicate the person, declare the designs, and to 'shew cause.'" + +"Why I never did in my life!" said Miss Essie, with a mixture of +surprise and amusement in her gracious black eyes. + +"The court is obliged to refuse an unsupported negative," said Mr. +Linden bowing. + +"Well," said Miss Essie, with no diminishing of the lustre of her black +orbs,--"I had a design against you, sir!" + +"Of what sort?" said Mr. Linden with intense gravity, while everybody +else laughed in proportion. + +"I had a design to enter your mind by private fraud, and steal away its +secrets;--and the reason was, because the door was so terribly strong +and had such an uncommon good lock! and I couldn't get in any other +way." + +"I hope that is news to the rest of the company," said Mr. Linden +laughing as he bowed his acknowledgments. "It is none to me! Miss +Essie, may your shadow never be less!"-- + +"Aint you ashamed!" said Miss Essie reproachfully. "Didn't such a +confession deserve better? Who's next, Mr. Harrison?" + +Some unimportant names followed, with commonplace forfeits according; +then Faith's name came to Mr. Linden. Then was there an opening of eyes +and a pricking of ears of all the rest of the company. Only Faith +herself sat as still as a mouse, after one little quick glance over to +where the person stood in whose hands she was. He stood looking at +her,--then walked with great deliberation across the room to her low +seat, and taking both her hands lifted her up. + +"You need not be frightened," he said softly, as keeping one hand in +his clasp he led her back to where he had been standing; then placed +her in a great downy easy chair in that corner of the fireplace, and +drew up a footstool for her feet. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "you are to sit there in absolute silence for +the next fifteen minutes. If anybody speaks to you, you are not to +answer,--if you are longing to speak yourself you must wait. It is also +required that you look at nobody, and hear as little as possible." With +which fierce sentence, Mr. Linden took his stand by the chair to see it +enforced. + +"What a man you are!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing. + +"That's not fair play!" said Mrs. Somers. "She don't want to sit +there--if you think she does, you're mistaken." + +"She should have been more careful then," said Mr. Linden. "Dr. +Harrison, you have the floor." + +Dr. Harrison did not appear to think that was much of a possession;--to +judge by his face, which cast several very observant glances towards +the chair, and by his manner which for a moment was slightly abstracted +and destitute of the spirit of the game. Miss Essie's eyes took the +same direction, with a steady gaze which the picture justified. Faith +sat where she had been placed, in most absolute obedience to the orders +she had received,--except possibly--not probably--the last one. The +lids drooped over her eyes, which moved rarely from the floor, and +never raised themselves. Her colour had risen indeed to a rich tint, +where it stayed; but Mrs. Somers' declaration nevertheless was hardly +borne out by a certain little bit-in smile which lurked there too, +spite of everything. Otherwise she sat like an impersonation of +silence, happily screened, by not looking at anybody, from any +annoyance of the eyes that were levelled at her and at the figure that +held post by her side. + +"Mrs. Stoutenburgh," said the doctor, "you have my aunt Ellen." + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh however was lenient in that quarter, and told Mrs. +Somers they would require nothing of her but the three last items of +Pattaquasset news--which she, as pastor's wife, was bound to know. And +Mrs. Somers was not backward in declaring them; the first being the +engagement of two people who hated each other, the second the +separation of two people who loved each other; the third, that Mr. +Linden shot himself--to make a sensation. + +"Mr. Linden," said the doctor, "you come next--and you are mine. What +shall I do with you?" + +"Why--anything," said Mr. Linden. + +"Well--I am greatly at a loss what you are good for," said the doctor +lightly,--"but on the whole I order you to preach a sermon to the +company." + +"Have you any choice as to the text?" + +"I am not in the way of those things," said the doctor laughingly. +"Give us the lesson you think we want most." + +The clear, grave look that met him--Dr. Harrison had seen it before. +The change was like the parting of a little bright vapour, revealing +the steadfast blue beneath. + +"Nay doctor, you must bid me do something else! I dare not play at +marbles with precious stones." + +There was probably a mixture of things in the doctor's mind;--but the +outward show in answer to this was in the highest degree seemly and +becoming. The expression of Dr. Harrison's face changed; with a look +gentle and kind, even winning, he came up to Mr. Linden's side and took +his hand. + +"You are right!" said he, "and I have got my sermon--which I deserve. +But now, Linden, _that_ is not your forfeit;--for that you must tell +me--honestly--what you think of me." There was always a general air of +carelessness about Dr. Harrison, as to what he said himself or what +others said in his presence. Along with this carelessness, which +whether seeming or real was almost invariable, there mingled now a +friend's look and tone and something of a friend's apology making. + +"But do you want me to tell everybody else?" said Mr. Linden, smiling +in his old way at the doctor. "Do you like to blush before so many +people?" + +"That's your forfeit!" said the doctor resuming also his old-fashioned +light tone. "You're to tell me--and you are _not_ to tell anybody else!" + +"Well--if you will have it," said Mr. Linden looking at +him,--"Honestly, I think you are very handsome!--of course that is news +to nobody but yourself." + +"Mercy on you, man!" said the doctor; "do you think that is news to +_me?_" + +"It is supposed to be--by courtesy," said Mr. Linden laughing. + +"Well--give me all the grace courtesy will let you," said the doctor; +whether altogether lightly, or with some feeling, it would have been +hard for a by-stander to tell. "Is Miss Derrick's penance out? She +comes next--and Miss Essie has her." + +"No,"--said Mr. Linden consulting his watch. "I am sorry to interfere +with your arrangements, doctor, but justice must have its course." + +"Then there is a 'recess'"--said the doctor comically. "Ladies and +gentlemen--please amuse yourselves."-- + +He had no intention of helping them, it seemed, for he stood fast in +his place and talked to Mr. Linden in a different tone till the minutes +were run out. No thing could be more motionless than the occupant of +the chair. + +"Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said then, "it is a little hard to pass from +one inquisitor to another--but I must hand you over to Miss Essie." + +Faith's glance at him expressed no gratification. Meanwhile the doctor +had gone for Miss Essie and brought her up to the fireplace. + +"Miss Derrick," said the black-eyed lady, "I wish you to tell--as the +penalty of your forfeit--why, when you thought the Rhododendron the +most perfect flower, you did not take it for your name?" + +If anybody had known the pain this question gave Faith--the leap of +dismay that her heart made! Nobody knew it; her head drooped, and the +colour rose again to be sure; but one hand sheltered the exposed cheek +and the other was turned to the fire. She could not refuse to answer, +and with the doctor's weapons she would not; but here, as once before, +Faith's straightforwardness saved her. + +"Why didn't you call yourself Rhodora?" repeated Miss Essie. And Faith +answered,-- + +"Because another name was suggested to me." + +The question could not decently be pushed any further; and both Miss +Essie and the doctor looked as if they had failed. Faith's own tumult +and sinking of heart prevented her knowing how thoroughly this was true. + +"And you two people," said Mr. Linden, "come and ask Miss Derrick why +she chose to appropriate a character that she thought fell short of +perfection!--what is the use of telling anybody anything, after that?" + +"I am only one people," said Miss Essie. + +"I am another," said the doctor; "and I confess myself curious. +Besides, a single point of imperfection might be supposed, without +injury to mortal and human nature." + +"Julius," said Miss Harrison, "will you have the goodness to do so +impolite a thing as to look at your watch? Aunt Ellen will expect us to +set a proper example. Dear Faith, are you bound to sit in that big +chair all night?" + +Then there was a general stir and break-up of the party. One bit of +conversation Faith was fated to hear as she slowly made her way out of +the dressing-room door, among comers and goers: the first speaker was a +young De Staff. + +"Since that shooting affair there's been nothing but reports about you, +Linden." + +"Reports seldom kill," said Mr. Linden. + +"Don't trust to that!" said another laughing moustache,--"keep 'em this +side the water. By the way--is there any likeness of that fair +foreigner going? How do you fancy _she_ would like reports?" + +"When you find out I wish you would let me know," said Mr. Linden with +a little accent of impatience, as he came forward and took Faith in +charge. + + + +CHAPTER III. + + + +It was pretty late when Jerry and his little sleigh-load got clear of +the gates. The stars were as bright as ever, and now they had the help +of the old moon; which was pouring her clear radiance over the snow and +sending long shadows from trees and fences. The fresh air was pleasant +too. Faith felt it, and wondered that starlight and snow and +sleigh-bells were such a different thing from what they were a few +hours before. She chid herself, she was vexed at herself, and humbled +exceedingly. She endeavoured to get back on the simple abstract ground +she had held in her own thoughts until within a day or two; she was +deeply ashamed that her head should have allowed even a flutter of +imagination from Mr. Stoutenburgh's words, which now it appeared might +bear a quite contrary sense to that which she had given them. What was +_she_, to have anything to do with them? Faith humbly said, nothing. +And yet,--she could not help that either,--the image of the possibility +of what Dr. Harrison had suggested, raised a pain that Faith could not +look at. She sat still and motionless, and heard the sleigh-bells +without knowing to what tune they jingled. + +It was a quick tune, at all events,--for the first ten or fifteen +minutes Jerry dashed along to his heart's content, and his driver even +urged him on,--then with other sleighs left far behind and a hill +before him, Jerry brought the tune to a staccato, and Mr. Linden spoke. +But the words were not very relevant to either stars or sleigh-bells. + +"Miss Faith, I thought you knew me better." + +They startled her, for she was a minute or two without answering; then +came a gentle, and also rather frightened, + +"Why?--why do you say that, Mr. Linden?" + +"Do you think you know me?" he said, turning towards her with a little +bit of a smile, though the voice was grave. "Do you think you have any +idea how much I care about you?" + +"I think you do," she said. "I am sure you do--very much!" + +"Do you know how much?"--and the smile was full then, and followed by a +moment's silence. "I shall not try to tell you, Miss Faith; I could not +if I would--but there is something on the other side of the question +which I want you to tell me." + +And Jerry walked slowly up the snowy hill, and the slight tinkle of his +bells was as silvery as the starlight of Orion overhead. + +Faith looked at her questioner and then off again, while a rich colour +was slowly mantling in her cheeks. But the silence was breathless. +Jerry's bells only announced it. And having by that time reached the +top of the hill he chose--and was permitted--to set off at his former +pace; flinging off the snow right and left, and tossing his mane on the +cool night air. Down that hill, and up the next, and down that--and +along a level bit of road to the foot of another,--then slowly. + +"Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden when they were half way up, "do you never +mean to speak to me again?" + +A very low-breathed although audible "yes." + +"Is that all you mean to say?--I shall take it very comprehensively." + +She was willing probably that he should take it any way that he +pleased; but to add was as much beyond Faith's power at the moment as +to subtract from her one word. She did not even look. + +"Do you know what this silence is promising?" Mr. Linden said in the +same tone, and bending down by her. "I do--and yet I want to hear you +speak once more. If there is any reason why I should try not to love +you better than all the rest of the world, you must tell me now." + +One other quick, inquiring, astonished glance her eyes gave into his +face; and then, as usual, his wish to have her speak made her speak, +through all the intense difficulty. There was a minute's further +hesitation, and then the words, very low, very simple, and trembling, + +"Do--if you can." + +"Do _try?_" he said in a lower and graver tone. + +"Try?"--she said; then with a change of voice and in very much +confusion,--"O no, Mr. Linden!" + +"I should not succeed"--was all his answer, nor was there time for much +more; for having now turned into the main street where other +homeward-bound sleighs were flying along, there was nothing to do but +fly along with the rest; and a very few minutes brought them home. + +Mr. Skip was probably reposing in parts unknown, for there was no sign +of him at his post; and when Faith had been silently taken out of the +sleigh and into the hall, Mr. Linden went back to Jerry--telling her +she must take good care of herself for five minutes. + +Bewilderedly, and trembling yet, Faith turned into the sitting-room. It +was warm and bright, Mrs. Derrick having only lately left it; and +taking off hood and cloak in a sort of mechanical way, with fingers +that did not feel the strings, she sat down in the easy chair and laid +her head on the arm of it; as very a child as she had been on the night +of that terrible walk;--wondering to herself if this were Christmas +day--if she were Faith Derrick--and if anything were anything!--but +with a wonder of such growing happiness as made it more and more +difficult for her to raise her head up. She dreaded--with an odd kind +of dread which contradicted itself--to hear Mr. Linden come in; and in +the abstract, she would have liked very much to jump up and run away; +but that little intimation was quite enough to hold her fast. She sat +still drawing quick little breaths. The loud voice of the clock near +by, striking its twelve strokes, was not half so distinct to her as +that light step in the hall which came so swiftly and quick to her side. + +"What is the problem now, pretty child?" Mr. Linden said, laying both +hands upon hers,--"it is too late for study to-night. You must wait +till to-morrow and have my help." + +She rose up at that, however gladly she would have hidden the face her +rising revealed; but yet with no awkwardness she stood before him, +rosily grave and shy, and with downcast eyelids that could by no means +lift themselves up to shew what was beneath; a fair combination of the +child's character and the woman's nature in one; both spoken fairly and +fully. Mr. Linden watched her for a minute, softly passing his hand +over that fair brow; then drew her closer. + +"I suppose I may claim Mr. Stoutenburgh's privilege now," he said. But +it was more than that he took. And then with one hand still held fast, +Faith was put back in her chair and wheeled up to the fire "to get +warm," and Mr. Linden sat down by her side. + +Did he really think she needed it, when she was rosy to her fingers' +ends? But what could she do, but be very still and very happy Even as a +flower whose head is heavy with dew,--never more fragrant than then, +yet with the weight of its sweet burden it bends a little;--like that +was the droop of Faith's head at this minute. Whither had the whirl of +this evening whirled her? Faith did not know. She felt as if, to some +harbour of rest, broad and safe; the very one where from its fitness it +seemed she ought to be. But shyly and confusedly, she felt it much as a +man feels the ground, who is near taken off it by a hurricane. Yet she +felt it, for her head drooped more and more. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said, half smiling, half seriously, "what has made +you so sober all this evening--so much afraid of me?" + +The quick answer of the eye stayed not a minute; the blush was more +abiding. + +"You don't want me to tell you that!"--she said in soft pleading. + +"Do you know now who I think has-- + + 'A sweet attractive kind of grace'?" + + +"O don't, please, speak so, Mr. Linden!" she said bowing her face in +her hands,--"it don't belong to me."--And pressing her hands closer, +she added, "_You_ have made me all I am--that is anything." + +"There is one thing I mean to make you--if I live," he answered +smiling, and taking down her hand. "Faith, what do you mean by talking +to me in that style?--haven't you just given me leave to think what I +like of you? You deserve another half hour's silent penance." + +A little bit of smile broke upon her face which for an instant she +tried to hide with her other hand. But she dropped that and turned the +face towards him, rosy, grave, and happy, more than she knew, or she +perhaps would have hidden it again. Her eyes indeed only saw his and +fell instantly; and her words began and stopped. + +"There is one comfort--" + +"What, dear child?" + +"That you know what to think," she said, looking up with a face that +evidently rested in the confidence of that fact. + +"About what?" Mr. Linden said with an amused look. "I have known what +to think about _you_ for some time." + +"I meant that,"--she said quietly and with very downcast eyes again. + +"I am not in a good mood for riddles to-night," said Mr. Linden,--"just +what does this one mean?" + +"Nothing, only--" said Faith flushing,--"you said--" + +She was near breaking down in sheer confusion, but she rallied and went +on. "You said I had given you leave to think what you liked of me,--and +I say it is a comfort that you know _what_ to think." + +Mr. Linden laughed. + +"You are a dear little child!" he said. "Being just the most precious +thing in the world to me, you sit there and rejoice that I am in no +danger of overestimating you--which is profoundly true. My comfort in +knowing what to think, runs in a different line." + +It is hard to describe Faith's look; it was a mixture of so many +things. It was wondering, and shamefaced; and curious for its blending +of humility and gladness; but gladness moved to such a point as to be +near the edge of sorrowful expression. She would not have permitted it +to choose such expression, and indeed it easily took another line; for +even as she looked, her eye caught the light from Mr. Linden's and the +gravity of her face broke in a sunny and somewhat obstinate smile, +which Faith would have controlled if she could. + +"That penance was not so very bad," she said, perhaps by way of +diversion. + +"I enjoyed it," said Mr. Linden,--"I am not sure that everybody else +did. Are you longing for another piece of rest?--Look up at me, and let +me see if _I_ ought to keep you here any longer." + +She obeyed, though shyly; the smile lingering round her lips yet, and +her whole face, to tell the truth, bearing much more resemblance to the +dawn of a May morning than to the middle of a December night. Mr. +Linden was in some danger of forgetting why he had asked to see it; but +when her eyes fell beneath his, then he remembered. + +"I must let you go," he said,--"I suppose the sooner I do that, the +sooner I may hope to see you again. Will you sleep diligently, to that +end?" + +"I don't know--" she said softly; rising at the same time to gather up +her wrappers which lay strewed about, around and under her. Her lips +had the first answer to that; only as he let her go Mr. Linden said, + +"You must try." + +And a little scarce-spoken "yes" promised it. + +It was easier than she thought. When Faith had got to her room, when +she had as usual laid down her heart's burden--joyful or careful--in +her prayer, there came soon a great subsiding; and mind and body slept, +as sleep comes to an exhausted child; or as those sleep, at any age, +whose hearts bear no weight which God's hand can bear for them, and who +are contented to leave their dearest things to the same hand. There was +no "ravelled sleeve of care" ever in Faith's mind, for sleep to knit +up; but "tired nature's sweet restorer" she needed like the rest of the +human family; and on this occasion sleep did her work without let or +hindrance from the time ten minutes after Faith's head touched her +pillow till the sun was strong and bright on the morning of the 26th of +December. Yes, and pretty high up too; for the first thing that fell +upon her waking senses was eight clear strokes of the town clock. + +Faith got up and dressed herself in a great hurry and in absolute +dismay; blushing to think where was her mother; and breakfast--and +everybody--all this while, and what everybody was thinking of her. From +her room Faith went straight to dairy and kitchen. She wanted her hands +full this morning. But her duties in the kitchen were done; breakfast +was only waiting, and her mother talking to the butcher. Faith stood +till he was dismissed and had turned his back, and then came into Mrs. +Derrick's arms. + +"Mother!--why _didn't_ you call me!" + +"Pretty child!" was the fond answer, "why should I?--I've been up to +look at you half a dozen times, Faith, to make sure you were not sick; +but Mr. Linden said he was in no hurry for breakfast--and of course I +wasn't. Did you have a good time last night?" + +"I should think you _ought_ to be in a hurry for breakfast by this +time." And Faith busied herself in helping Cindy put the breakfast on +the table. + +"You run and call Mr. Linden, child," said her mother, "and I'll see to +this. He was here till a minute ago, and then some of the boys wanted +to see him." + +Faith turned away, but with no sort of mind to present herself before +the boys, and in tolerable fear of presenting herself before anybody. +The closing hall door informed her that one danger was over; and +forcing herself to brave the other, she passed into the sitting-room +just as Mr. Linden reentered it from the hall. Very timidly then she +advanced a few steps to meet him and stood still, with cheeks as rosy +as it was possible to be, and eyes that dared not lift themselves up. + +The greeting she had did not help either matter very much, but that +could not be helped either. + +"What colour are your cheeks under all these roses?" Mr. Linden said +smiling at her. "My dear Faith, were you quite tired out?" + +"No--You must think so," she said with stammering lips--"but breakfast +is ready at last. If you'll go in--I'll come, Mr. Linden." + +"Do you want me to go in first?" + +"Yes. I'll come directly." + +He let her go, and went in as she desired; and having persuaded Mrs. +Derrick that as breakfast was on the table it had better have prompt +attention, Mr. Linden engaged her with a lively account of the people, +dresses, and doings, which had graced the Christmas party; keeping her +mind pretty well on that subject both before and after Faith made her +appearance. How little it engrossed him, only one person at the table +could even guess. But she knew, and rested herself happily under the +screen he spread out for her; as quiet and demure as anything that ever +sat at a breakfast table yet. And all the attention she received was as +silent as it was careful; not till breakfast was over did Mr. Linden +give her more than a passing word; but then he inquired how soon she +would be ready for philosophy. + +Faith's hesitating answer was "Very soon;"--then as Mr. Linden left the +room she asked, "What are you going to do to-day, mother?" + +"O just the old story," said Mrs. Derrick,--"two or three sick people I +must go and see,--and some well people I'd rather see, by half. It's so +good to have you home, dear!" And she kissed Faith and held her off and +looked at her--several feelings at work in her face. "Pretty child," +she said, "I don't think I ever saw you look so pretty." + +Faith returned the kiss, and hid her face in her mother's neck; more +things than one were in her mind to say, but not one of them could get +out. She could only kiss her mother and hold her fast. The words that +at last came, were a very commonplace remark about--"going to see to +the dinner." + +"I guess you will!" said Mrs. Derrick--"with Mr. Linden waiting for you +in the other room. I wonder what he'd say to you, or to me either. And +besides--people that want to see about dinner must get up earlier in +the morning." + +The words, some of them, were a little moved; but whatever Mrs. Derrick +was thinking of, she did not explain, only bade Faith go off and attend +to her lessons and make up for lost time. + +Which after some scouting round kitchen and dairy, Faith did. She +entered the sitting-room with the little green book in her hand, as +near as possible as she would have done three weeks ago. Not quite. + +She had a bright smile of welcome, and Mr. Linden placed a chair for +her and placed her in it; and then the lessons went on with all their +old gentle care and guidance. More, they could hardly have--though +Faith sometimes fancied there was more; and if the old sobriety was +hard to keep up, still it was done, for her sake. A little play of the +lips which she could sometimes see, was kept within very quiet bounds; +whatever novelty there might be in look or manner was perhaps +unconscious and unavoidable. She might be watched a little more than +formerly, but her work none the less; and Mr. Linden's explanations and +corrections were given with just their old grave freedom, and no more. +And yet how different a thing the lessons were to him!-- + +As to Faith, her hand trembled very much at first, and even her voice; +but for all that, the sunshine within was easy to see, and there came a +bright flash of it sometimes. In spite of timidity and shyness, every +now and then something made her forget herself, and then the sunlight +broke out; to be followed perhaps by a double cloud of gravity. But for +the rest, she worked like a docile pupil, as she always had done. + +Apparently her teacher's thoughts had not been confined to the work, if +they had to her; for when all was done that could be done before +dinner, he made one of those sudden speeches with which he sometimes +indulged himself. + +"Faith--I wish you would ask me to do half a dozen almost impossible +things for you." + +What a pretty wondering look she gave him. One of the flashes of the +sunlight came then. But then came an amused expression. + +"What would be the good of that, Mr. Linden?" + +"I should have the pleasure of doing them." + +"I believe you would," said Faith. "I think the only things quite +impossible to you are wrong things." + +"The only thing you ever did ask of me was impossible," he said with a +smile, upon which there was a shadow too--as if the recollection pained +him. "Child, how could you?--It half broke my heart to withstand you +so, do you know that? I want the almost impossible things to make me +forget it." + +Her lip trembled instantly and her command of herself was nearly gone. +She had risen for something, and as he spoke she came swiftly behind +him, putting herself where he could not see her face, and laid her hand +on his shoulder. It lay there as light as thistle-down; but it was +Faith's mute way of saying a great many things that her voice could not. + +Very quick and tenderly Mr. Linden drew her forward again, and tried +the power of his lips to still hers. + +"Hush, dear child!" he said--"you must not mind any thing I say,--I am +the last person in the world you ought to be afraid of. And you must +not claim it as your prerogative to get before me in danger and behind +me at all other times--because that is just reversing the proper order +of things. Faith, I am going to ask an almost impossible thing of you." + +"What is it?" Faith was secretly glad, for afraid of his _requests_ she +could not be. + +"You will try to do it?" + +"Yes--certainly!" + +"It is only to forget that 'Mr. Linden' is any part of my name," he +said smiling. + +She had been rosy enough before, but now the blood reddened her very +brow, till for one instant she put up her hands to hide it. + +"What then?"--she said in a breathless sort of way. + +"What you like"--he answered brightly. "I have not quite as many names +as a Prince Royal, but still enough to choose from. You may separate, +combine, or invent, at your pleasure." + +There came a summons to dinner then; and part of the hours which should +follow thereafter, Mr. Linden was pledged to spend somewhere with +somebody--away from home. But he promised to be back to tea, and before +that, if he could; and so left Faith to the quiet companionship of her +mother and her lessons--if she felt disposed for them. They were both +in the sitting-room together, Mrs. Derrick and the books,--both helping +the sunlight that came in at the windows. But Faith neglected the +books, and came to her mother's side. She sat down and put her arms +round her, and nestled her head on her mother's bosom, as she had done +in the morning. And then was silent. That might have been just what +Mrs. Derrick expected, she was so very ready for it; her work was +dropped so instantly, her head rested so fondly on Faith's. But her +silence was soon broken. + +"How long do you think I can wait, pretty child?" she said in the +softest, tenderest tone that even she could use. + +"Mother!" said Faith startling. "For what?" + +"Suppose you tell me." + +"Do you know, mother?" said Faith in a low, changed tone and drawing +closer. But Mrs. Derrick only repeated, + +"What, child?" + +"What Mr. Linden has said to me,"--she whispered. + +"I knew what he would"--but the words broke off there, and Mrs. Derrick +rested her head again in silence as absolute as Faith's. + +For awhile; and then Faith lifted up her flushed face and began to kiss +her. + +"Mother!--why don't you speak to me?" + +It was not very easy to speak--Faith could see that; but Mrs. Derrick +did command her voice enough to give a sort of answer. + +"He had my leave, child,--at least he has talked to me about you in a +way that I should have said no to, if I had meant it,--and he knew +that. Do you think I should have let him stay here all this time if I +had _not_ been willing?" + +Faith laid her head down again. + +"Mother--dear mother!"--she said,--"I want more than that!"-- + +She had all she wanted then,--Mrs. Derrick spoke clearly and steadily, +though the tears were falling fast. + +"I am as glad as you are, darling--or as he is,--I cannot say more than +that. So glad that you should be so happy--so glad to have such hands +in which to leave you." The last words were scarce above a whisper. + +Faith was desperate. She did not cry, but she did everything else. With +trembling fingers she stroked her mother's face; with lips that +trembled she kissed her; but Faith's voice was steady, whatever lay +behind it. + +"Mother--mother!--why do you do so? why do you speak so? Does this look +like gladness?" And lips and hands kissed away the tears with an +eagerness that was to the last degree tender. + +"Why yes, child!" her mother said rousing up, and with a little bit of +a smile that did not belie her words,--"I tell you I'm as glad as I can +be!--Tears don't mean anything, Faith,--I can't help crying sometimes. +But I'm just as glad as he is," she repeated, trying her soothing +powers in turn,--"and if you'd seen his face as I did when he went +away, you'd think that was enough. I don't know whether I _could_ be," +she added softly, "if I thought he would take you away from me--but I +know he'll never do that, from something he said once. Why pretty +child! any one but a baby could see this long ago,--and as for that, +Faith, I believe I love him almost as well as you do, this minute." + +The last few minutes had tried Faith more than she could bear, with the +complete reaction that followed. The tears that very rarely made their +way from her eyes in anybody's sight, came now. But they were not +permitted to be many; her mother hardly knew they were come before they +were gone; and half nestling in her arms, Faith lay with her face hid; +silent and quiet. It seemed to Mrs. Derrick as if she was too far off +still, for she lifted Faith softly up, and took her on her lap after +the old childish fashion, kissing her once and again. + +"Now, pretty child," she said, softly stroking the uncovered cheek, +"keep your hands down and tell me all about it. I don't mean every +word," she added smiling, "but all you like to tell." + +But Faith could not do that. She made very lame work of it. She managed +only with much difficulty to give her mother a very sketchy and thin +outline of what she wanted to know; which perhaps was as much as Mrs. +Derrick expected; and was given with a simplicity as bare of additions +as her facts were. A very few words told all she had to tell. Yes, her +mother was satisfied,--she loved to hear Faith speak those few words, +and to watch her the while--herself supplying all deficiencies; and +then was content that her child should lie still and go to sleep, if +she chose--it was enough to look at her and think: rejoicing with her +and for her with a very pure joy, if it was sometimes tearful. + +Faith presently changed her position, and gave a very particular +attention to the smoothing of the hair over her mother's forehead. Then +pulling her cap straight, and giving her a finishing look and kiss, she +took a low seat close beside her, laid one of her study books on her +mother's lap, resting one arm there fondly, and went hard to work +remarking however that Mrs. Derrick might talk as much as she liked and +she would talk too. But Mrs. Derrick either did not want to talk, or +else she did not want to interrupt; for she watched Faith and smiled +upon her, and stroked her hair, and said very little. + +Just at the end of the afternoon, when Faith was finishing her work by +firelight, Mr. Linden came in. She did not see the look that passed +between her mother and him--she only knew that they held each other's +hands for a minute silently,--then one of the hands was laid upon her +forehead. + +"Little student--do you want to try the fresh air?" + +She said yes; and without raising her eyes, ran off to get ready. In +another minute she was out in the cool freshness of the December +twilight. + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + + +The walk lasted till all the afterglow had faded and all the stars come +out, and till half Pattaquasset had done tea; having its own glow and +starlight, and its flow of conversation to which the table talk was +nothing. + +Of course, Faith's first business on reaching home was to see about the +tea. She and Mrs. Derrick were happily engaged together in various +preparations, and Mr. Linden alone in the sitting-room, when the +unwelcome sound of a knock came at the front door; and the next minute +his solitude was broken in upon. + +"Good evening!" said the doctor. "Three-quarters of a mile off 'I heard +the clarion of the unseen midge!' so I thought it was best to come to +close quarters with the enemy.--There is nothing so annoying as a +distant humming in your ears. How do you do?" He had come up and laid +his hand on Mr. Linden's shoulder before the latter had time to rise. + +"What a perverse taste!" Mr. Linden said, laughing and springing up. +"All the rest of the world think a near-by humming so much worse." + +"Can't distinguish at a distance," said the doctor;--"one doesn't know +whether it's a midge or a dragon-fly. How is Mignonette? and +Mignonette's mother?" + +"They were both well the last time I saw them. In what sort of a calm +flutter are you, doctor?" + +"Do you think that is my character?" said the doctor, taking his +favourite position on the rug. + +"You go straight to the fire--like all the rest of the tribe," said Mr. +Linden. + +"Is it inconsistent with the character of such an extra ordinary midge, +to go straight to the mark?" + +"Nobody ever saw a midge do that yet, I'll venture to say." + +"And you are resolved to act in character," said the doctor gravely. +"You have got clean away from the point. I asked you last night to tell +me what you thought of me. We are alone now--do it, Linden!" + +"Why do you want to know?" + +"I don't know. A man likes to talk of himself--cela s'entend--but I +care enough about you, to care to know how I stand in your thoughts. If +you asked me how I stand in my own, I could not tell you; and I should +like to know how the just balances of your mind--I'm not talking +ironically, Linden,--weigh and poise me;--what sort of alloy your +mental tests make me out. No matter why!--indulge me, and let me have +it. I presume it is nothing better than philosophical curiosity. I +am--every man is to himself--an enigma--a mystery;--and I should like +to have a sudden outside view--from optics that I have some respect +for." + +"I gave you the outside view last night," Mr. Linden said. But then he +came and stood near the doctor and answered him simply; speaking with +that grave gentleness of interest which rarely failed to give the +speaker a place in people's hearts, even when his words failed of it. + +"I think much of you, in the first place,--and in the second place, I +wish you would let me think more;--you stand in my thoughts as an +object of very warm interest, of very earnest prayer. Measured--not by +my standards, but by those which the word of God sets up, you are like +your own admirably made and adjusted microscope, with all the higher +powers left off. The only enigma, the only mystery is, that you +yourself cannot see this." + +Dr. Harrison looked at him with a grave, considerative face, drawing a +little back; perhaps to do it the better. + +"Do you mean to say, that _you_ do such a thing as pray for _me?_" + +A slight, sweet smile came with the answer--"Can you doubt it?" + +"Why I might very reasonably doubt it,--though not your word. Why do +you,--may I ask?" + +"What can I do for a man in deadly peril, whom my arm cannot reach?" +The tone was very kindly, very earnest; the eyes with their deep light +looked full into the doctor's. + +Dr. Harrison was silent, meeting the look and taking the depth and +meaning of it, so far as fathomable by him. The two faces and figures, +fine as they both were, made a strange contrast. The doctor's face was +in one of its serious and good expressions; but the other had come from +a region of light which this one had never entered. And even in +attitude--the dignified unconsciousness of the one, was very different +from the satisfied carelessness of the other. + +"May I further ask," he said in a softened tone,--"why you do this for +me?" + +"Because I care about you." + +"It's incredible!" said the doctor, his eye wavering, however. "One man +care about another! Why, man, I may be the worst enemy you have in the +world, for aught you know." + +"That cannot hinder my being your friend." + +"Do you know," said the other looking at him half curiously,--"I am +ready to do such a foolish thing as to believe you? Well--be as much of +a friend to me as you can; and I'll deserve it as well as I can--which +maybe won't be very well. Indeed that is most likely!" He had stretched +out his hand to Mr. Linden however, and clasped his warmly. He quitted +it now to go forward and take that of Faith. + +She came in just as usual, and met the doctor with her wonted manner; +only the crimson stain on her cheek telling anything against her. She +did not give him much chance to observe that; for Cindy followed her +with the tea things and Faith busied herself about the table. The +doctor went back to his stand and watched her. + +"Mignonette has changed colour," he remarked presently. "How is that, +Miss Derrick?" + +"How is what, sir?" + +"How come you to change the proper characteristics of mignonette? Don't +you know that never shews high brilliancy?" + +"I suppose I am not mignonette to-night," said Faith, returning to the +safer observation of the tea-table. + +"Are you my flower, then? the Rhodora?" he said with a lowered tone, +coming near her. + +If Faith heard, she did not seem to hear this question. Her attention +was bestowed upon the preparations for tea, till Mrs. Derrick came in +to make it; and then Faith found a great deal to do in the care of the +other duties of the table. It was a mystery, how she managed it; she +who generally had as much leisure at meals as anybody wanted. Dr. +Harrison's attention however was no longer exclusively given to her. + +"Do you _always_ have these muffins for tea, Mrs. Derrick?" he remarked +with his second essay. + +"Why no!" said Mrs. Derrick,--"we have all sorts of other things. Don't +you like muffins, doctor?" + +"Like them!" said the doctor. "I am thinking what a happy man Mr. +Linden must be." + +"Marvellously true!" said Mr. Linden. "I hope you'll go home and write +a new 'Search after happiness,' ending it sentimentally in muffins." + +"Not so," said the doctor. "I should only begin it in muffins--as I am +doing. But my remark after all had a point;--for I was thinking of the +possibility of detaching anybody from such a periodical attraction. +Mrs. Derrick, I am the bearer of an humble message to you from my +sister and father--who covet the honour and pleasure of your presence +to-morrow evening. Sophy makes me useful, when she can. I hope you will +give me a gracious answer--for yourself and Miss Faith, and so make me +useful again. It is a rare chance! I am not often good for anything." + +"I don't know whether I know how to give what you call gracious +answers, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick pleasantly. "I'm very much obliged +to Miss Sophy, but I never go anywhere at night." + +With the other two the doctor's mission was more successful; and then +he disclosed the other object of his visit. + +"Miss Derrick, do you remember I once threatened to bring the play of +Portia here--and introduce her to you?" + +"I remember it," said Faith. + +"Would it be pleasant to you that I should fulfil my threat this +evening?" + +"I don't know, sir," said Faith smiling,--"till I hear the play." + +"Mr. Linden,--what do you think?" said the doctor, also with a smile. + +"I am ready for anything--if you will let me be impolite enough to +finish writing a letter while I hear the first part of your reading." + +"To change the subject slightly--what do you suppose, Mr. Linden, would +on the whole be the effect, on society, if the hand of Truth were in +every case to be presented without a glove?" The doctor spoke gravely +now. + +"The effect would be that society would shake hands more cordially--I +should think," said Mr. Linden; "though it is hard to say how such an +extreme proposition would work." + +"Do you know, it strikes me that it would work just the other way, and +that hands would presently clasp nothing but daggers' hilts. But there +is another question.--How will one fair hand of truth live among a +crowd of steel gauntlets?" + +"_What?_" Mr. Linden said, with a little bending of his brows upon the +doctor. "I am wearing neither glove nor gauntlet,--what are you talking +about?--And my half-finished letter is a fact and no pretence." + +"I sha'n't believe you," said the doctor, "if you give my fingers such +a wring as that. Well, go to your letter, and I'll take Miss Derrick to +Venice--if she will let me." + +Venice!--That exquisite photograph of the Bridge of Sighs, and "the +palace and the prison on each hand," about which such a long, long +entrancing account had been given by Mr. Linden to her--the scene and +the talk rose up before Faith's imagination; she was very ready to go +to Venice. Its witching scenery, its strange history, floated up, in a +fascinating, strange cloud-view; she was ready for Shylock and the +Rialto. Nay, for the Rialto, not for Shylock; him, or anything like +him, she had never seen nor imagined. She was only sorry that Mr. +Linden had to go to his letter; but there was a compensative side to +that, for her shyness was somewhat less endangered. With only the +doctor and Shylock to attend to, she could get along very well. + +Shyness and fears however, were of very short endurance. To Venice she +went,--Shylock she saw; and then she saw nothing else but Shylock, and +those who were dealing with him; unless an occasional slight glance +towards the distant table where Mr. Linden sat at his writing, might be +held to signify that she _had_ powers of vision for somewhat else. It +did not interrupt the doctor's pleasure, nor her own. Dr. Harrison had +begun with at least a double motive in his mind; but man of the world +as he was, he forgot his unsatisfied curiosity in the singular +gratification of reading such a play to such a listener. It was so +plain that Faith was in Venice! She entered with such simplicity, and +also with such intelligence, into the characters and interests of the +persons in the drama; she relished their words so well; she weighed in +such a nice balance of her own the right and the wrong, the true and +the false, of whatever rested on nature and truth for its proper +judgment;--she was so perfectly and deliciously ignorant of the world +and the ways of it! The fresh view that such pure eyes took of such +actors and scenes, was indescribably interesting; Dr. Harrison found it +the best play he had ever read in his life. He made it convenient +sometimes to pause to indoctrinate Faith in characters or customs of +which she had no adequate knowledge; it did not hurt her pleasure; it +was all part of the play. + +In the second scene, the doctor stopped to explain the terms on which +Portia had been left with her suitors. + +"What do you think of it?" + +"I think it was hard," said Faith smiling. + +"What would you have done if you had been left so?" + +"I would not have been left so." + +"But you might not help yourself. Suppose it had been a father's or a +mother's command? that anybody might come up and have you, for the +finding--if they could pitch upon the right box of jewelry?" + +"My father or mother would never have put such a command on me," said +Faith looking amused. + +"But you may _suppose_ anything," said the doctor leaning forward and +smiling. "_Suppose_ they had?" + +"Then you must suppose me different too," said Faith laughing. "Suppose +me to have been like Portia; and I should have done as she did." + +The doctor shook his head and looked gravely at her. + +"Are you so impracticable?" + +"Was she?" said Faith. + +"Then you wouldn't think it right to obey Mrs. Derrick in all +circumstances?" + +"Not if she was Portia's mother," said Faith. + +"Suppose you had been the Prince of Arragon--which casket would you +have chosen?" said Mr. Linden, as he came from his table, letter in +hand. + +"I suppose I should have chosen as he did," said the doctor +carelessly--"I really don't remember how that was. I'll tell you when I +come to him. Have you done letter-writing?" + +"I have done writing letters, for to-night. Have I permission to go to +Venice in your train?" + +"I am only a locomotive," said the doctor. "But you know, with two a +train goes faster. If you had another copy of the play, now, +Linden--and we should read it as I have read Shakspeare in certain +former times--take different parts--I presume the effect would excel +steam-power, and be electric. Can you?" + +This was agreed to, and the "effect" almost equalled the doctor's +prognostications. Even Mrs. Derrick, who had somewhat carelessly held +aloof from his single presentation of the play, was fascinated now, and +drew near and dropped her knitting. It would have been a very rare +entertainment to any that had heard it; but for once an audience of two +was sufficient for the stimulus and reward of the readers. That and the +actual enjoyment of the parts they were playing. Dr. Harrison read +well, with cultivated and critical accuracy. His voice was good and +melodious, his English enunciation excellent; his knowledge of his +author thorough, as far as acquaintanceship went; and his habit of +reading a dramatically practised one. But Faith, amid all her delight, +had felt a want in it, as compared with the reading to which of late +she had been accustomed; it did not give the soul and heart of the +author--though it gave everything else. _That_ is what only soul and +heart can do. Not that Dr. Harrison was entirely wanting in those gifts +either; they lay somewhere, perhaps, in him; but they are not the ones +which in what is called "the world" come most often or readily into +play; and so it falls out that one who lives there long becomes like +the cork oak when it has stood long untouched in _its_ world; the heart +is encrusted with a monstrous thick, almost impenetrable, coating of +bark. When Mr. Linden joined the reading, the pleasure was perfect; the +very contrast between the two characters and the two voices made the +illusion more happy. Then Faith was in a little danger of betraying +herself; for it was difficult to look at both readers with the same +eyes; and if she tried to keep her eyes at home, that was more +difficult still. + +In the second act, Portia says to Arragon, + + "In terms of choice I am not solely led + By nice direction of a maiden's eyes," etc. + + +"What do you think of that, Miss Derrick?" said the doctor pausing when +his turn came. "Do you think a lady's choice ought to be so determined?" + +Faith raised her eyes, and answered, "No, sir." + +"By what then? You don't trust appearances?" + +Faith hesitated. + +"I should like to hear how Portia managed," she said, with a little +heightened colour. "I never thought much about it." + +"What do you think of Portia's gloves, doctor?" said Mr. Linden. + +"Hum"--said the doctor. "They are a pattern!--soft as steel, harsh as +kid-leather. They fit too, so exquisitely! But, if I were marrying her, +I think I should request that she would give her gloves into my +keeping." + +"Then would your exercise of power be properly thwarted. Every time you +made the demand, Portia would, like a juggler, pull off and surrender a +fresh pair of gloves, leaving ever a pair yet finer-spun upon her +hands." + +"I suppose she would," said the doctor comically. "Come! I won't marry +her. And yet, Linden,--one might do worse. Such gloves keep off a +wonderful amount of friction." + +"If you happen to have fur which cannot be even _stroked_ the wrong +way!" + +The doctor's eye glanced with fun, and Faith laughed The reading went +on. And went on without much pausing, until the lines-- + + "O ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly + To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont + To keep obliged faith unforfeited! + ----Who riseth from a feast, + With that keen appetite that he sits down? + Where is the horse, that doth untread again + His tedious measures with the unbated fire + That he did pace them first? All things that are, + Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed." + + +"Do you believe in that doctrine, Miss Faith?" said the doctor, with a +gentle look in her direction. + +"I suppose it is true of some things,"--she said after a minute's +consideration. + +"What a wicked truth it is, Linden!" said the doctor. + +"There is 'an error i' the bill,'" said Mr. Linden. + +Faith's eyes looked somewhat eagerly, the doctor's philosophically. + +"Declare and shew," said the doctor. "I thought it was a universal, +most deplorable, human fact; and here it is, in Shakspeare, man; which +is another word for saying it is in humanity." + +"It is true only of false things. The Magician's coins are next day but +withered leaves--the real gold is at compound interest." + +The doctor's smile was doubtful and cynical; Faith's had a touch of +sunlight on it. + +"Where is your 'real gold'?" said the doctor. + +"Do you expect me to tell you?" said Mr. Linden laughing. "I have found +a good deal in the course of my life, and the interest is regularly +paid in." + +"Are you talking seriously?" + +"Ay truly. So may you." + +"From any other man, I should throw away your words as the veriest +Magician's coin; but if they are true metal--why I'll ask you to take +me to see the Mint some day!" + +"Let me remind you," said Mr. Linden, "that there are many things in +Shakspeare. What do you think of this, for a set-off?-- + + 'Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks + Within his bending sickle's compass come; + Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, + But bears it out e'en to the edge of doom. + If this be error, and upon me proved, + I never writ, nor no man ever loved.'" + + +"There's an error proved upon _me_," said the doctor, biting his lips +as he looked at Faith who had listened delightedly. "Come on! I'll stop +no more. The thing is, Linden, that I am less happy than you--I never +found any real gold in my life!" + +"Ah you expect gold to come set with diamonds,--and that cannot always +be. I don't doubt you have gold enough to start a large fortune, if you +would only rub it up and make it productive." + +The doctor made no answer to that, and the reading went on; Faith +becoming exceedingly engrossed with the progress of the drama. She +listened with an eagerness which both the readers amusedly took heed +of, as the successive princes of Morocco and Arragon made their trial: +the doctor avowing by the way, that he thought he should have "assumed +desert" as the latter prince did, and received the fool's head for his +pains. Then they came to the beautiful "casket scene." The doctor had +somehow from the beginning left Portia in Mr. Linden's hands; and now +gave with great truth and gracefulness the very graceful words of her +successful suitor. He could put truth into these, and did, and +accordingly read beautifully; well heard, for the play of Faith's +varying face shewed she went along thoroughly with all the fine turns +of thought and feeling; here and elsewhere. But how well and how +delicately Mr. Linden gave Portia! That Dr. Harrison could not have +done; the parts had fallen out happily, whether by chance or design. +Her ladylike and coy play with words--her transparent veil of delicate +shifting turns of expression--contriving to say all and yet as if she +would say nothing--were rendered by the reader with a grace of tone +every way fit to them. Faith's eye ceased to look at anybody, and her +colour flitted, as this scene went on; and when Portia's address to her +fortunate wooer was reached--that very noble and dignified declaration +of her woman's mind, when she certainly pulled off her gloves, wherever +else she might wear them;--Faith turned her face quite away from the +readers and with the cheek she could not hide sheltered by her hand--as +well as her hand could--she let nobody but the fire and Mrs. Derrick +see what a flush covered the other. Very incautious in Faith, but it +was the best she could do. And the varied interests that immediately +followed, of Antonio's danger and deliverance, gradually brought her +head round again and accounted sufficiently for the colour with which +her cheeks still burned. The Merchant of Venice was not the only play +enacting that evening; and the temptation to break in upon the one, +made the doctor, as often as he could, break off the other; though the +interest of the plot for a while gave him little chance. + + "So shines a good deed in a naughty world." + + +"Do you suppose, Miss Derrick," said Dr. Harrison with his look of +amused pleasure,--"that is because the world is so dark?--or because +the effects of the good deed reach to such a distance?" + +"Both," said Faith immediately. + +"You think the world is so bad?" + +"I don't know much of the world," said Faith,--"but I suppose the +_shining_ good deeds aren't so very many." + +"What makes a good deed _shining?_" said the doctor. + +Faith glanced at Mr. Linden. But he did not take it up, and she was +thrown back upon her own resources. She thought a bit. + +"I suppose,"--she said,--"its coming from the very spirit of light." + +"You must explain," said the doctor good-humouredly but smiling,--"for +that puts me in absolute darkness." + +"I don't know very well how to tell what I mean," said Faith colouring +and looking thoughtful;--"I think I know. Things that are done for the +pure love of God and truth, I think, shine; if they are ever so little +things, because really there is a great light in them. I think they +shine more than some of the greater things that people call very +brilliant, but that are done from a lower motive." + +"I should like"--said the doctor--"Can you remember an instance or two? +of both kinds?" + +Well Faith remembered an instance or two of _one_ kind, which she could +not instance. She sought in her memory. + +"When Daniel kneeled upon his knees three times a day to pray, with his +windows open, after the king's law had for bidden any one to do it on +pain of death,--" said Faith.--"I think that was a shining good deed!" + +"But that was a very notable instance," said the doctor. + +"It was a very little thing he did," said Faith. "Only kneeled down to +pray in his own room. And it has shined all the way down to us." + +"And in later times," said Mr. Linden,--"when the exploring shallop of +the Mayflower sought a place of settlement, and after beating about in +winter storms came to anchor Friday night at Plymouth Rock;--all +Saturday was lost in refitting and preparing, and yet on Sunday they +would not land. Those two dozen men, with no human eye to see, with +every possible need for haste!" + +"That hasn't shined quite so far," said the doctor, "for it never +reached me. And it don't enlighten me now! I should have landed." + +"Do you know nothing of the _spirit_ of Say and Seal, as well as the +province?" said Mr. Linden. + +"As how, against landing?" + +"They rested that day '_according to the commandment_.' Having promised +to obey God in all things, the seal of their obedience was unbroken." + +"Well, Miss Faith," said the doctor--"Now for a counter example." + +"I know so little of what has been done," said Faith. "Don't you +remember some such things yourself, Dr. Harrison?--Mr. Linden?"--The +voice changed and fell a little as it passed from one to the other. + +"General Putnam went into the wolf's den, and pulled him out"--said the +doctor humorously,--"that's all I can think of just now, and it is not +very much in point. I don't know that there was anything very bright +about it except the wolf's eyes!--But here we are keeping Portia out of +doors, and Miss Derrick waiting! Linden--fall to." And with comical +life and dramatic zeal on the doctor's part, in a few minutes more, the +play was finished. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said the doctor gravely as he rose and stood before +her,--"I hope you approve of plays." + +Mrs. Derrick expressed her amusement and satisfaction. + +"Miss Faith," he said extending his hand,--"I have to thank you for the +most perfect enjoyment I have ever had of Shakspeare. I only wish +to-morrow evening would roll off on such swift wheels--but it would be +too much. Look where this one has rolled to!" And he shewed his watch +and hurried off; that is, if Dr. Harrison could be said to do such a +thing. + +The rest of the party also were stirred from their quiet. Mrs Derrick +went out; and Mr. Linden, coming behind Faith as she stood by the fire, +gently raised her face till he could have a full view of it, and asked +her how she liked being in Venice? + +"Very much," she said, smiling and blushing at him,--"very much!" + +"You are not the magician's coin!" he said, kissing her. "You are not +even a witch. Do you know how I found that out?" + +"No"--she said softly, the colour spreading over her face and her eyes +falling, but raised again immediately to ask the question of him. + +"A witch's charms are always dispelled whenever she tries to cross +running water!"-- + +She laughed; an amused, bright, happy little laugh, that it was +pleasant to hear. + +"But what did Dr. Harrison mean,--by what he said when he thanked me? +What did he thank me for?" + +"He _said_--for a new enjoyment of Shakspeare." + +"What did he mean?" + +"Do you understand how the sweet fragrance of mignonette can give new +enjoyment to a summer's day?" + +She blushed exceedingly. "But, Mr. Linden, please don't talk so! And I +don't want to give Dr. Harrison enjoyment in that way." + +"Which part of your sentence shall I handle first?" he said with a +laughing flash of the eyes,--"'Dr. Harrison'--or 'Mr. Linden'?" + +"The first," said Faith laying her hand deprecatingly on his arm;--"and +let the other alone!" + +"How am I to 'please not to talk'?" + +"So--as I don't deserve," she said raising her grave eyes to his face. +"I would rather have you tell me my wrong things." + +He looked at her, with one of those rare smiles which belonged to her; +holding her hand with a little soft motion of it to and fro upon his +own. + +"I am not sure that I dare promise 'to be good,'" he said,--"I am so +apt to speak of things as I find them. And Mignonette you are to +me--both in French and English. Faith, I know there is no glove upon +your hand,--and I know there is none on mine; but I cannot feel, nor +imagine, any friction,--can you?" + +She looked up and smiled. So much friction or promise of it, as there +is about the blue sky's reflection in the clear deep waters of a +mountain lake--so much there was in the soft depth--and reflection--of +Faith's eyes at that moment. So deep,--so unruffled;--and as in the +lake, so in the look that he saw, there was a mingling of earth and +heaven. + + + +CHAPTER V. + + + +Wednesday morning was cold and raw, and the sun presently put on a +thick grey cloak. There were suspicions abroad that it was one made in +the regions of perpetual snow, for whatever effect it might have had +upon the sun, it made the earth very cold. Now and then a little +frozen-up snowflake came silently down, and the wind swept fitfully +round the corners of houses, and wandered up and down the chimneys. +People who were out subsided into a little trot to keep themselves +warm, all except the younger part of creation, who made the trot a run; +and those who could, staid at home. + +All of Mrs. Derrick's little family were of this latter class, after +the very early morning; for as some of them were to brave the weather +at night, there seemed no reason why they should also brave it by day. +As speedily as might be, Mr. Linden despatched his various matters of +outdoor business, of which there were always more or less on his hands, +and then came back and went into the sitting-room to look for his +scholar. In two minutes she came in from the other door, with the stir +of business and the cold morning fresh in her cheeks. But no one would +guess--no one could ever guess, from Faith's brown dress and white +rufffles, that she had just been flying about in the kitchen--to use +Cindy's elegant illustration--"like shelled peas"; not quite so +aimlessly, however. And her smiling glance at her teacher spoke of +readiness for all sorts of other business. + +The first thing she was set about was her French exercise, during the +first few lines of which Mr. Linden stood by her and looked on. But +then he suddenly turned away and went up stairs--returning however, +presently, to take his usual seat by her side. He watched her progress +silently, except for business words and instructions, till the exercise +was finished and Faith had turned to him for further directions; then +taking her hand he put upon its forefinger one of the prettiest things +she had ever seen. It was an old-fashioned diamond ring; the stones all +of a size, and of great clearness and lustre, set close upon each other +all the way round; with just enough goldsmith's work to bind them +together, and to form a dainty frill of filagree work above and +below--looking almost like a gold line of shadow by that flashing line +of light. + +"It was my mother's, Faith," he said, "and she gave it to me in trust +for whatever lady I should love as I love you." + +Faith looked down at it with very, very grave eyes. Her head bent +lower, and then suddenly laying her hands together on the table she hid +her face in them; and the diamonds glittered against her temple and in +contrast with the neighbouring soft hair. + +One or two mute questions came there, before Mr. Linden said softly, +"Faith!" She looked up with flushed face, and all of tears in her eyes +_but_ the tears; and her lip had its very unbent line. She looked first +at him and then at the ring again. Anything more humble or more grave +than her look cannot be imagined. His face was grave too, with a sort +of moved gravity, that touched both the present and the past, but he +did not mean hers should be. + +"Now what will you do, dear child?" he said. "For I must forewarn you +that there is a language of rings which is well established in the +world." + +"What--do you mean?" she said, looking alternately at the ring and him. + +"You know what plain gold on this finger means?" he said, touching the +one he spoke of. She looked at first doubtfully, then coloured and said +"yes." + +"Well diamonds on _this_ finger are understood to be the avant-couriers +of that." + +Faith had never seen diamonds; but that was not what she was thinking +of, nor what brought such a deep spot of colour on her cheeks. It was +pretty to see, it was so bright and so different from the flush which +had been there a few minutes before. Her eyes considered the diamonds +attentively. + +"What shall I do?" she said after a little. + +"I don't know--you must try your powers of contrivance." + +"I cannot contrive. I could keep ray glove on to-night; but I could not +every day. Shall I give it back to you to keep for me?"--she said +looking at it lovingly. "Perhaps that will be best!--What would you +like me to do?" + +"Anything _but_ that," he said smiling,--"I should say that would be +worst. You may wear a glove, or glove-finger--what you will; but there +it must stay, and keep possession for me, till the other one comes to +bear it company. In fact I suppose I _could_ endure to have it seen!" + +Her eyes went down to it again. Clearly the ring had a charm for Faith. +And so it had, something beyond the glitter of brilliants. Of +jewellers' value she knew little; the marketable worth of the thing was +an enigma to her. But as a treasure of another kind it was beyond +price. His mother's ring, on _her_ finger--to Faith's fancy it bound +and pledged her to a round of life as perfect, as bright, and as pure, +as its own circlet of light-giving gems. That she might fill to him--as +far as was possible--all the place that the once owner of the diamonds +would have looked for and desired; and be all that _he_ would look for +in the person to whom the ring, so derived, had come. Faith considered +it lovingly, with intent brow, and at last lifted her eyes to Mr. +Linden by way of answer; without saying anything, yet with half her +thoughts in her face. His face was very grave--Faith could see a little +what the flashing of that ring was to him; but her look was met and +answered with a fulness of warmth and tenderness which said that he had +read her thoughts, and that to his mind they were already accomplished. +Then he took up one of her books and opened it at the place where she +was to read. + +The morning, and the afternoon, went off all too fast, and the sun went +down sullenly. As if to be in keeping with the expected change of work +and company, the evening brought worse weather,--a keener +wind--beginning to bestir itself in earnest, a thicker sky; though the +ground was too snow-covered already to allow it to be very dark. With +anybody but Mr. Linden, Mrs. Derrick would hardly have let Faith go +out; and even as it was, she several times hoped the weather would +moderate before they came home. Faith was so well wrapped up however, +both in the house and in the sleigh, that the weather gave her no +discomfort; it was rather exhilarating to be so warm in spite of it; +and they flew along at a good rate, having the road pretty much to +themselves. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said as they approached Judge Harrison's, "I cannot +spend all the evening here with you--that is, I ought not. I had a +message sent me this afternoon--too late to attend to then, which I +cannot leave till morning. But if I see you safe by the fire, I hope +Miss Harrison will take good care of you till I get back." + +"Well," said Faith,--"I wouldn't meddle with your 'oughts,'--if I +could. I hope you'll take care of Jerry!"-- + +"What shall I do with him?" + +"Don't you know?" said Faith demurely. + +"I suppose I ought to drive him so fast that he'll keep warm," said Mr. +Linden. "What else?" + +Faith's little laugh made a contrast with the rough night. "You had +better let me get out to the fire," she said joy fully,--"or _I_ +sha'n't keep warm." + +"You sha'n't?" he said bending down by her, as they reached the +door,--"your face has no idea of being cold!--I'll take care of Jerry, +child--if I don't forget him in my own pleasant thoughts." + +Faith threw off her cloak and furs on the hall table where some others +lay, and pulled off one glove. + +"Keep them both on!" Mr. Linden said softly and smiling,--"enact Portia +for once. Then if you are much urged, you can gracefully yield your own +prejudices so far as to take off one." + +She looked at him, then amusedly pulled on her glove again; and the +door was opened for them into a region of warmth and brightness; where +there were all sorts of rejoicings over them and against the cold +night. Mr. Linden was by force persuaded to wait till after coffee +before braving it again; and the Judge and his daughter fairly involved +Faith in the meshes of their kindness. A very mouse Faith was to-night, +as ever wore gloves; and with a little of a mouse's watchfulness about +her, fancying cat's ears at every corner. A brown mouse too; she had +worn only her finest and best stuff dress. But upon the breast of that, +a bunch of snowy Laurustinus, nestling among green leaves, put forth a +secret claim in a way that was very beautifying. The Judge and Miss +Sophy put her in a great soft velvet chair and hovered round her, both +of them conscious of her being a little more dainty than usual. Sophy +thought perhaps it was the Laurustinus; her father believed it +intrinsic. + +The coffee came, and the doctor. + +"I have something better for you than Portia to-night"--he said as he +dealt out sugar,--"though not something better than muffins." + +"Faith, my dear child," said Miss Sophy,--"you needn't be so +ceremonious--none of us are wearing gloves." + +Faith laughed and blushed and pulled off one glove. + +"You are enacting Portia, are you?" said Dr. Harrison. "Even she would +not have handled wigs with them. I see I have done mischief! But the +harm I did you last night I will undo this evening. Ladies and +Gentlemen!--I will give you, presently, the pleasure of hearing some +lines written expressive of my wishes toward the unknown--but +supposed--mistress of my life and affections. Any suggestions toward +the bettering of them--I will hear." + +"The bettering of what?" said Mrs. Somers,--"your life and affections?" + +"I am aware, my dear aunt Ellen, you think the one impossible--the +other improbable. I speak of bettering the wishes." + +"'Unknown but supposed'"--said Mr. Linden. "'Item--She hath many +nameless virtues'." + +"That is not my wish," said the doctor gravely looking at him, "I think +nameless virtues--deserve their obscurity!" + +"What do you call your ideal?" + +"Psyche,--" said the doctor, after a minute's sober consideration +apparently divided between Mr. Linden's face and the subject. + +"That is not so uncommon a name as Campaspe," said Mr. Linden, with a +queer little gesture of brow and lips. + +"Who is Campaspe?" said the doctor; while Faith looked, and Miss +Essie's black eyes sparkled and danced, and everybody else held his +coffee cup in abeyance. + +"Did you never hear of my Campaspe?" said Mr. Linden, glancing up from +under his brows. + +"We will exchange civilities," said the doctor. "I should be very happy +to hear of her." + +Laughing a little, his own cup sending its persuasive steam unheeded, +his own face on the sparkling order--though the eyes looked demurely +down,--Mr. Linden went on to answer. + + "'Cupid and my Campaspe played + At cards for kisses; Cupid payed; + He stakes his quiver, bow and arrows, + His mother's doves, and teame of sparrows; + Loses them too; then down he throws + The coral of his lippe, the rose + Growing on's cheek, (but none knows how) + With these, the crystal of his browe, + And then the dimple of his chinne; + All these did my Campaspe winne. + At last he set her both his eyes,-- + She won, and Cupid blind did rise. + O Love! has she done this to thee? + What shall, alas! become of me!'" + + +There was a general little breeze of laughter and applause. The doctor +had glanced at Faith;--her colour was certainly raised; but then the +old Judge had just bent down to ask her "if she had ever heard of +Campaspe before?" The doctor did not hear but he guessed at the +whisper, and saw Faith's laugh and shake of the head. + +"Is that a true bill, Linden?" + +"Very true,--" said Mr. Linden, trying his coffee. "But it is not yet +known what will become of me." + +"What has become of Campaspe?" + +"She is using her eyes." + +"Are they _those_ eyes, Mr. Linden?" said Miss Essie coming nearer and +using her own. + +"What was the colour of Cupid's?" + +"Blue, certainly!" + +"Miss Derrick!"--said the doctor,--"let us have your opinion." + +Faith gave him at least a frank view of her own, all blushing and +laughing as she was, and answered readily,--"As to the colour of +Cupid's eyes?--I have never seen him, sir." + +The doctor was obliged to laugh himself, and the chorus became general, +at something in the combination of Faith and her words. But Faith's +confusion thereupon mastered her so completely, that perhaps to shield +her the doctor requested silence and attention and began to read; of a +lady who, he said he was certain, had borrowed of nobody--not even of +Cupid.-- + + "'Whoe'er she be, + That not impossible she, + That shall command my heart and me.'" + + +"I believe she _is_ impossible, to begin with," said Miss Essie. "You +will never let any woman command you, Dr. Harrison." + +"You don't know me, Miss Essie," said the doctor, with a curiously +grave face, for him. + +"He means-- + + 'Who shall command my heart--_not_ me.'" + +said Mr. Linden. + +"If she can command my heart--what of me is left to rebel?" said the +doctor. + +"Sophy," said Mrs. Somers, "how long has Julius been all heart?" + +"Ever since my aunt Ellen has been _all_ eyes and ears. Mr. Somers, +which portion of your mental nature owns the supremacy of your wife? +may I inquire, in the course of this investigation?" + +"Ha!" said Mr. Somers blandly, thus called upon--"I own her supremacy, +sir--ha--in all proper things!" + +"Ha! Very proper!" said the doctor. + +"That is all any good woman wants," said the old Judge benignly. "I +take it, that is all she wants." + +"Then you must say which are the proper things, father!" said Miss +Sophy laughing. + +"You'll have to ask every man separately, Sophy," said Mrs. +Somers,--"they all have their own ideas about proper things. Mr. Somers +thinks milk porridge is the limit." + +"Mr. Stoutenburgh," said the doctor, "haven't you owned yourself +commanded, ever since your heart gave up its lock and key?" + +"Yes indeed," said the Squire earnestly,--"I am so bound up in slavery +that I have even forgotten the wish to be free! All my wife's things +are proper!" + +"O hush!" his wife said laughing, but with a little quick bright +witness in her eyes, that was pretty to see. Dr. Harrison smiled. + +"You see, Miss Derrick!" he said with a little bow to her,--"there is +witness on all sides;--and now I will go on with my _not impossible_ +she."-- + +He got through several verses, not without several interruptions, till +he came to the exquisite words following;-- + + "'I wish her beauty, + That owes not all his duty + To gaudy tire or glistring shoetye. + + 'Something more than + Taffeta or tissue can, + Or rampant feather, or rich fan. + + 'More than the spoil + Of shop, or silk-worm's toil, + Or a bought blush, or a set smile.'" + + +While Miss Essie exclaimed, Miss Harrison stole a look at Faith; who +was looking up at the doctor, listening, with a very simple face of +amusement. Her thoughts were indeed better ballasted than to sway to +such a breeze if she had felt it. But the real extreme beauty of the +image and of the delineation was what she felt; she made no application +of them. The doctor came to this verse. + + "'A well-tamed heart, + For whose more noble smart + Love may be long choosing a dart.'-- + + +What does that mean, Linden?--isn't that an error in the description?" + +"Poetical license," said Mr. Linden smiling. "Psyche will give you +trouble enough, wings and all,--there is no fear you will find her +'tamed'." + +"How is Campaspe in that respect?" + +"She has never given me much trouble yet," said Mr. Linden. + +"What I object to is the 'long choosing'," said the doctor. "Miss de +Staff--do you think a good heart should be very hard to win?" + +"Certainly!--the harder the better," replied the lady. "That's the only +way to bring down your pride. The harder she is, the more likely you +are to think she's a diamond." + +"Mrs. Stoutenburgh!"-- + +"What has been the texture of yours all these years, doctor?" + +"He thinks that when he has dined the rest of the world should follow +suit--like the Khan of Tartary," said Mrs. Somers. + +"Miss Derrick!" said the doctor--"I hope for some gentleness from you. +Do you think such a heart as we have been talking of, should be very +difficult to move?" + +Faith's blush was exquisite. Real speech was hard to command. She knew +all eyes were waiting upon her; and she could not reason out and +comfort herself with the truth--that to them her blush might mean +several things as well as one. The answer came in that delicate voice +of hers which timidity had shaken. + +"I think--it depends on what there is to move it." + +"What do you call sufficient force?" said Mrs. Somers. + +"I?"--said Faith.-- + +"Yes, you," replied the parson's wife with a look not unkindly amused. +"What sort and degree of power should move 'such a heart'?--to quote +Julius." + +Faith's blush was painful again, and it was only the sheer necessity of +the case that enabled her to rally. But her answer was clear. +"Something better than itself, Mrs. Somers." + +"I should like to know what that is!" said Mrs. Somers. + +Mr. Linden's involuntary "And so should I"--was in a different tone, +but rather drew eyes upon himself than Faith. + +"It's of no consequence to you!" said the doctor, with a funny, mock +serious tone of admonition. + +Mr. Linden bowed, acquiescingly.--"Psychology is an interesting +study"--he added, in qualification. "But let me return your warning, +doctor--you have a formidable rival." + +"Qui donc?" + +"Cupid carried off Psyche some time ago--do you suppose you can get her +back?" And with a laughing sign of adieu, Mr. Linden went away. + +Luckily for Faith, she was not acquainted with the heathen mythology; +and was also guiltless of any thought of connexion between herself and +the doctor's ideal. So her very free, unsuspicious face and laughter +quite reassured him. + +"Mr. Linden is an odd sort of person," said Miss Essie philosophically. +"I have studied him a good deal, and I can't quite make him out. He's a +very interesting man! But I think he is deeper than he seems." + +"He's deeper than the salt mines of Salzburg then!" said the doctor. + +"Why?" said Miss Essie curiously. + +The doctor answered gravely that "there were beautiful things +there";--and went on with his reading. And Faith listened now with +unwavering attention, till he came to-- + + "'Sydnean showers + Of soft discourse, whose powers + Can crown old winter's head with flowers.'" + + +Faith's mind took a leap. And it hardly came back again. The reading +was followed by a very lively round game of talk; but it was not _such_ +talk; and Faith's thoughts wandered away and watched round that circlet +of brightness that was covered by her glove; scattered rays from which +led them variously,--home, to her Sunday school, to Pequot,--and to +heaven; coming back again and again to the diamonds and to the image +that was in the centre of them. No wonder her grave sweet face was +remarked as being even graver and sweeter than usual; and the doctor at +last devoted himself to breaking up its quiet. He took her into the +library to finish the Rhododendrons--ostensibly--but in reality to get +rid of the stiff circle in the other room. The circle followed; but no +longer stiff; under the influence of the cold weather and the big fires +and good prompting, their spirits got up at last to the pitch of acting +charades. Miss Harrison brought down her stores of old and new finery; +and with much zeal and success charades and tableaux went on for some +length of time; to the extreme amusement of Faith, who had never seen +any before. They did not divert her from watching for the sound of Mr. +Linden's return; but it came not, and Miss Essie expected and hoped +aloud in vain. The hour did come, and passed, at which such gatherings +in Pattaquasset were wont to break up. That was not very late to be +sure. The Stoutenburghs, and the De Staffs, and finally Mr. and Mrs. +Somers, went off in turn; and Faith was left alone to wait; for she had +refused all offers of being set down by her various friends. + +It happened that Mr. Linden had been, by no harmful accident but simply +by the untowardness of things, delayed beyond his time; and then having +a good distance to drive, it was some while after the last visiters had +departed when he once more reined up Jerry at the door. No servant came +to take him, and Mr. Linden applied himself to the bell-handle. But +there seemed a spell upon the house--or else the inmates were +asleep--for ring as he would, no one came. + +To fasten Jerry and let himself in were the next steps--neither of +which took long. But in the drawing-room, to which he had been ushered +in the beginning of the evening, there was now no one. The lights and +the fires and the empty chairs were there; that was all. Mr. Linden +knew the house well enough to know where next to look; he crossed the +hall to a room at the other side, which was the one most commonly used +by the family, and from which a passage led to the library. No one was +here, and the room was in a strange state of confusion. Before he had +well time to remark upon it, Faith came in from the passage bearing a +heavy marble bust in her arms. The colour sprang to her cheeks; she set +down Prince Talleyrand quickly and came towards Mr. Linden, saying, +"There's fire in the library." + +"My dear child!" he said softly, "what is the matter? What are you +about?" + +"Why there is fire in the library--it's all on fire, or soon will be," +she said hurriedly, "and we are bringing the things out. The fire can't +get in here--its a fireproof building only the inside will all burn up. +The servants are carrying water to the roof of the house, lest that +should catch. I am so glad to see you!"-- + +And Miss Sophy and the doctor came in, carrying one a picture, the +other an armful of books. Faith ran back through the passage. But +before she could set her foot inside the library, Mr. Linden's hand was +on her shoulder, and he stepped before her and took the survey of the +room in one glance. + +Its condition was sufficiently unpromising. The fire had kindled in a +heap of combustible trumpery brought there for the tableaux. It had got +far beyond management before any one discovered it; and now was making +fast work in that corner of the room and creeping with no slow progress +along the cornices of the bookshelves. Short time evidently there was +for the family to remove their treasures from its destructive sweep. +One corner of the room was in a light blaze; one or two lamps mockingly +joined their light to the glare; the smoke was curling in grey wreaths +and clouds over and around almost everything. Here an exquisite bust of +Proserpine looked forlornly through it; and there a noble painting of +Alston's shewed in richer lights than ever before, its harmony of +colouring. The servants were, as Faith had said, engaged in +endeavouring to keep the roof of the house from catching; only one old +black retainer of the family, too infirm for that service, was helping +them in the labour of rescuing books and treasures of art from the +tire, which must take its way within the library. The wall it could not +pass, that being, as Faith had also said, proof against it. + +"Stay where you are," Mr. Linden said, "and I will hand things to +you"--adding under his breath, "if you love me, Faith!" And passing +into the room he snatched Proserpine from her smoky berth and gave her +to the old servant, handing Faith a light picture. + +"Don't let your sister come in here, Harrison," he said, springing up +the steps to the upper shelves of the bookcase nearest the fire--"and +don't let everybody do everything,--keep half in the passage and half +here." + +"Yes, Sophy," said the doctor, "that is much better--don't you come in +here, nor Miss Faith. And don't work too hard," he said gently to the +latter as she came back after bestowing the picture. "I won't ask you +not to work at all, for I know it would be of no use." + +"Just work like monkeys," Mr. Linden said from his high post, which was +a rather invisible one. "Reuben!--I am glad of your help." + +"Reuben!" exclaimed Faith joyously. "How good that is. Give me those +books, Reuben."-- + +And after that the work went on steadily, with few words. It was too +smoky an atmosphere to speak much in; and the utmost exertions on the +part of every one of the workers left no strength nor time for it. +"Like monkeys" they worked--the gentlemen handing things out of the +smoke to the willing fingers and light feet that made quick disposition +of them. Quick it had need to be, for the fire was not waiting for +them. And in an incredibly short time--incredible save to those who +have seen the experiment tried,--books and engravings were emptied from +shelf after shelf--compartment after compartment--and lodged within the +house. Not a spare inch of space--not a spare second of time, it +seemed, was gone over; and the treasures of the library were in quick +process of shifting from one place to another. It was rather a weary +part Faith had to play, to stop short at the doorway and see the +struggle with smoke and fire that was going on inside; and an anxious +eye and trembling heart followed the movements of one of the workers +there whenever she returned to her post of waiting. She would rather +have been amid the smoke and the fire too, than to stand off looking +on; but she did what she was desired--and more than she was desired; +for she said not a word, like a wise child. Only did her work with no +delay and came back again. Two excellent workers were the doctor and +Mr. Linden; Reuben was a capital seconder; and no better runners than +the two ladies need have been found; while the old Judge and his old +serving man did what they could. There was every appearance that their +efforts would be successful; the fire was to be sure, greatly increased +and fast spreading, but so also the precious things that it endangered +were already in great measure secured. Probably very little would have +been lost to be regretted, if the workers had not suffered a slight +interruption. + +Mr. Linden was in the middle of the room unlocking the drawers of the +library table, which was too large to be removed. Old Nero, the black +man, had taken one of the lamps which yet remained burning, a large +heavy one, to carry away. He was just opposite the table, when a stone +bust of some weight, which had stood above the bookcases, detached by +the failure of its supports, came down along with some spars of the +burning wood and fell against a rich screen just on the other side of +Nero. The screen was thrown over on him; he struggled an instant to +right himself and it, holding his lamp off at an awful angle towards +Mr. Linden; then, nobody could tell how it was, Nero had saved himself +and struggled out from the falling screen and burning wood, and Faith +and the lamp lay under it, just at Mr. Linden's feet. Yet hardly under +it--so instantly was it thrown off. The lamp was not broken, which was +a wonder; but Faith was stunned, and the burning wood had touched her +brow and singed a lock of hair. + +In such a time of confusion all sorts of things come and go, unseen but +by the immediate actors. Dr. Harrison and Reuben were intent upon a +heavy picture; the Judge and his daughter were in the other room. And +Faith was lifted up and borne swiftly along to the drawing-room sofa, +and there was cold water already on her brow, before the others reached +her. She was only a little stunned and had opened her eyes when they +came up. They came round her, all the gang of workers, like a swarm of +bees, and with as many questions and inquiries. Faith smiled at them +all, and begged they would go back and finish what they were doing. + +"I'll stay here a little while," she said; "my fall didn't hurt me a +bit, to speak of. Do go! don't anybody wait for me." + +There seemed nothing else to be done; she would own to wanting nothing; +and her urgency at length prevailed with them, however reluctantly, to +leave her and go back to the library. But Mr. Linden stood still as the +others moved off. + +"Where are you hurt?" he said in a low voice. + +"I suppose the fall bruised me a little bit. It didn't do me any real +harm. Don't wait here for me." + +"Where?" Mr. Linden said. + +"Where it bruised me? A little on my head--and elbow--and side; +altogether nothing!" + +He sat down by her, passing his hand softly over the scorched hair; +then said, "Let me see your arm." + +"Oh no!--that's not necessary. I said I was bruised, but it isn't much." + +"Faith, you have not told me the whole." + +Her eye shrank from his instantly, and her colour flitted from red to +pale. + +"There is nothing more I need tell you. They will all be back here--or +some of them--if you stay. I'll tell you anything you please to +morrow," she added with a smile. But he only repeated, "Tell me now--I +have a right to know." + +Her lip took its childish look, but her eye met him now. "Don't look +so!"--she said, "as if there was any reason for it. I think some of the +fluid from that lamp ran down on my arm--and it smarts. Don't stay here +to look grave about me!--it isn't necessary." + +He bent his head and gave her one answer to all that--then sprang up +and went for Dr. Harrison. Faith tried to hinder him, in vain. + +There was little now to detain anybody in the library, he found, and a +good deal to drive everybody out of it. The fire had seemed to take +advantage of its unwatched opportunity and had put it pretty well out +of any one's power to rescue much more from its rapacity. Reuben and +Dr. Harrison were carrying out the drawers of the table, which Mr. +Linden had been unlocking; and the doctor dropped the one he held the +instant he caught the sense of Mr. Linden's words. He went through the +other way, summoning his sister. + +Faith was lying very quietly and smiled at them, but her colour went +and came with odd suddenness. She would not after all let the doctor +touch her; but rising from the sofa said she would go up stairs and let +Sophy see what was wanting. The three went up, and Mr. Linden was left +alone. + +He stood still for a moment where they left him, resting his face upon +his hand, but then he went back to the burning room; and stationing +himself at the doorway, bade all the rest keep back, and those that +could to bring him water. Reuben sprang to this work as he had done to +the other; some of the servants had come down by this time; and Mr. +Linden stood there, dashing the water about the doorway and into the +room, upon the floor, the great table, and such of the bookcases as he +could come near. The effect was soon evident. The blazing bits of +carved moulding as they fell to the floor, went out instead of getting +help to burn; and the heavier shelves and wainscot which being of hard +wood burned slowly, began to give out steam as well as smoke. The door +and doorway were now perfectly safe--the fire hardly could spread into +the passage, a danger which had been imminent when Mr. Linden came, but +which the family seemed to have forgotten; secure in their fireproof +walls, they forgot the un-fireproof floor, nor seemed to remember how +far along the passage the cinders might drift. When there was really +nothing more for him to do, and he had given the servants very special +instructions as to the watch they should keep, then and not till then +did Mr. Linden return to the parlour; the glow of his severe exercise +fading away. + +He found the Judge there, who engaged him in not too welcome +conversation; but there was no help for it. He must hear and answer the +old gentleman's thanks for his great services that night--praises of +his conduct and of Faith's conduct; speculations and questions +concerning the evening's disaster. After a time that seemed tedious, +though it was not really very long, Miss Harrison came down. + +"She'll be better directly," she said. "Do sit down, Mr. Linden!--I +have ordered some refreshments--you must want them, I should think; and +you'll have to wait a little while, for Faith says she will go home +with you; though I am sure she ought not, and Julius says she must not +stir." + +Mr. Linden bowed slightly--answering in the most commonplace way that +he was in no hurry and in no need of refreshments; and probably he felt +also in no need of rest--for he remained standing. + +"How is she, dear? how is she?" said the Judge. "Is she much hurt?" + +"Just _now_," said Miss Harrison, "she is in such pain that she cannot +move--but we have put something on that will take away the pain, Julius +says, in fifteen minutes; and she will be quite well this time +to-morrow, he says." + +"But is she much hurt?" Judge Harrison repeated with a very concerned +face. + +"She'll be well to-morrow, father; but she was dreadfully burned--her +arm and shoulder--I thought she would have fainted upstairs--but I +don't know whether people _can_ faint when they are in such pain. I +don't see how she can bear her dress to go home, but she says she will; +Mrs. Derrick would be frightened. Mr. Linden, they say every body does +what you tell them--I wish you'd persuade Faith to stay with me +to-night! She won't hear me." + +"How soon can I see her?"--The voice made Miss Harrison look--but her +eyes said her ears had made a mistake. + +"Why she said she would come down stairs presently--as soon as the pain +went off enough to let her do anything--and she wanted me to tell you +so; but I am sure it's very wrong. Do, Mr. Linden, take +something!"--(the servant had brought in a tray of meats and +wine)--"While you're waiting, you may as well rest yourself. How shall +we ever thank you for what you've done to-night!" + +Miss Harrison spoke under some degree of agitation, but both she and +her father failed in no kind or grateful shew of feeling towards their +guest. + +"How did it happen, Mr. Linden?" she said when she had done in this +kind all she could. + +He said he had not seen the accident--only its results. + +"I can't imagine how Faith got there," said Miss Harrison. "She saw the +screen coming over on Nero, I suppose, and thought she could save the +lamp--she made one spring from the doorway, he says, to where he stood. +And in putting up her hand to the lamp, I suppose that horrid fluid ran +down her arm and on her shoulder--when Nero put out the lamp he must +have loosened the fastening; it went all over her shoulder. But she'll +be well to-morrow night, Julius says." + +"Who's with her now, my dear?" said the Judge. + +"O Julius is with her--he said he'd stay with her till I came back--she +wanted Mr. Linden to know she would go home with him. Now, Mr. Linden, +won't you send her word back that you'll take care of Mrs. Derrick if +she'll stay?" + +"I will go up and see her, Miss Harrison." + +That was anticipated however, by the entrance of the doctor; who told +his sister Miss Derrick wanted her help, then came gravely to the +table, poured out a glass of wine and drank it. His father asked +questions, which he answered briefly. Miss Derrick felt better--she was +going to get up and come down stairs. + +"But ought she to be suffered to go out to-night, Julius?--such a +night?" + +"Certainly not!" + +The Judge argued the objections to her going. The doctor made no +answer. He walked up and down the room, and Mr. Linden stood still. Ten +or fifteen minutes passed; and then the door opened softly and Faith, +all dressed, cloaked, and furred, came in with her hood, followed by +her friend. Miss Sophy looked very ill satisfied. Faith's face was pale +enough, but as serenely happy as release from pain can leave a face +that has no care behind. A white embodiment of purity and gentleness +she looked. The doctor was at her side instantly, asking questions. Mr. +Linden did not interrupt him,--he had met her almost before the doctor, +and taken her hand with a quietness through which Faith could perceive +the stir of feelings that might have swept those of all the others out +into the snow. But he held her hand silently until other people had +done their questions--then simply asked if she was quite sure she was +fit to ride home? Then, with that passing of the barrier, look and +voice did change a little. + +"I mean to go,"--she said without looking at him,--"if you'll please to +take me." + +"She ought not,--I am sure she ought not!" exclaimed Miss Harrison in +much vexation. "She is just able to stand." + +"You know," Mr. Linden said,--not at all as if he was urging her, but +merely making a statement he thought best to make; "I could even bring +your mother here, in a very short time, if you wished it." + +"O I don't wish it. I can go home very well now." + +He gave her his arm without more words. Miss Harrison and the Judge +followed regretfully to the door; the doctor to the sleigh. + +"Are you well wrapped up?" he asked. + +"I have got all my own and all Sophy's furs," said Faith in a glad tone +of voice. + +"Take care of yourself," he said;--"and Mr. Linden, you must take care +of her--which is more to the purpose. If I had it to do, this ride +would not be taken. Linden--I'll thank you another time." + +They drove off. But as soon as they were a few steps from the house, +Mr. Linden put his arm about Faith and held her so that she could lean +against him and rest; giving her complete support, and muffling up the +furs about her lightly and effectually, till it was hardly possible for +the cold air to win through; and so drove her home. Not with many +words,--with only a whispered question now and then, whether she was +cold, or wanted any change of posture. The wind had lulled, and it was +much milder, and the snow was beginning to fall softly and fast; Faith +could feel the snow crystals on his face whenever it touched hers. Mr. +Linden would have perhaps chosen to drive gently, as being easier for +her, but the thick air made it needful. Once only he asked any other +question.-- + +"Faith--is my care of you in fault, that it lets you come home?" + +"No, I think not," she said;--"you hold me just so nicely as it is +possible to be! and this snow-storm is beautiful." Which answer, though +she might not know it, testified to her need of precisely the care he +was giving her. + +"Are you suffering much now, dear child?" + +"Not at all. I am only enjoying. I like being out in such a storm as +this.--Only I am afraid mother is troubled." + +"No--I sent Reuben down some time ago, to answer her questions if she +was up, and to have a good fire ready for you." + +"O that's good!" she said. And then rested, in how luxurious a rest! +after exertion, and after anxiety, and after pain; so cared for and +guarded. She could almost have gone to sleep to the tinkle of Jerry's +bells; only that her spirit was too wide awake for that and the +pleasure of the time too good to be lost. She had not all the pleasure +to herself--Faith could feel that, every time Mr. Linden spoke or +touched her; but what a different atmosphere his mind was in, from her +quiet rest! Pain had quitted her, but not him, though the kinds were +different. Truly he would have borne any amount of physical pain +himself, to cancel that which she had suffered,--there were some +minutes of the ride when he would have borne it, only to lose the +thought of that. But Faith knew nothing of it all, except as she could +feel once or twice a deep breath that was checked and hushed, and +turned into some sweet low-spoken word to her; and her rest was very +deep. So deep, that the stopping of the sleigh at last, was an +interruption. + +The moment Jerry's bells rang their little summons at the door, the +door itself opened, and from the glimmering light Reuben ran out to +take the reins. + +"Is Mrs. Derrick up?" Mr. Linden asked, when the first inquiry about +Faith had been answered. + +"I don't know, sir. I told her you wore afraid Miss Faith would take +cold without a fire in her room--and she let me take up wood and make +it; and then she said she wasn't sleepy, and she'd take care it didn't +go out. I haven't seen her since." + +"Thank you, Reuben--now hold Jerry for me,--I shall keep you here +to-night," Mr. Linden said as he stepped out. And laying his hand upon +the furs and wrappers, he said softly,--"Little Esquimaux--do you think +you can walk to the house?" + +"O yes!--certainly." + +A little bit of a laugh answered her--the first she had heard since +Campaspe; and then she was softly lifted up, and borne into the house +over the new-fallen snow as lightly as if she had been a snowflake +herself. The snow might lay its white feathers upon her hood, but Faith +felt as if she were in a cradle instead of a snow-storm. She was placed +in the easy chair before the sitting-room fire, and her hood and furs +quickly taken off. "How do you feel?" Mr. Linden asked her. + +She looked like one of the flakes of snow herself, for simplicity and +colour; but there was a smile in her eyes and lips that had come from a +climate where roses blow. + +"I feel nicely.--Only a little bruised and battered feeling, which +isn't unpleasant." + +"Will you have anything?--a cup of tea?--that might do you good." + +Faith looked dubious at the cup of tea; but then rose up and said it +would disturb her mother, and she would just go and sleep. + +"It won't disturb her a bit,"--Mr. Linden said, reseating her,--"sit +still--I'll send Reuben up to see." + +He left her there a very few minutes, apparently attending to more than +one thing, for he came back through the eating-room door; bringing word +to Faith that her fire and room were in nice order, and her mother fast +asleep there in the rocking-chair to keep guard; and that she should +have a cup of tea in no time. And with a smile at her, he went back +into the eating-room, and brought thence her cup and plate, and +requested to be told just how the tea should be made to please her, and +whether he might invade the dairy for cream. + +"If I could put this cloak over my shoulders, I would get some myself. +Will you put it on for me? please.--Is there fire in the kitchen? I'll +go and make the tea." + +"Is there nothing else you would like to do?" he said standing before +her,--"you shall not stir! Do you think I don't know cream when I see +it?"--and he went off again, coming back this time in company with +Reuben and the tea-kettle, but the former did not stay. Then with +appeals to her for directions the tea was made and poured out, and +toast made and laid on her plate; but she was not allowed to raise a +finger, except now to handle her cup. + +"It's very good!" said Faith,--"but--don't you remember you once told +me two cups of cocoa were better than one?" + +It is to be noted in passing, that all Faith's _nameless_ addresses +were made with a certain gentle, modulated accent, which invariably +implied in its half timid respect the "Mr. Linden" which she rarely +forgot now she was not to say. + +"Dear child! I do indeed," he said, as if the remembrance wore a bright +one. "But I remember too that my opinion was negatived. Faith, I used +to wish then that I could wait upon you--but I would rather have you +wait upon me, after all!" + +Faith utterly disallowed the tone of these last words, and urged her +request in great earnest. He laughed at her a little--but brought the +cup and drank the tea,--certainly more to please her than himself; +watching her the while, to see if the refreshment were telling upon her +cheeks. She was very little satisfied with his performance. + +"Now I'll go and wake up mother," she said at last rising. "Don't think +of this evening again but to be glad of everything that has happened. I +am." + +"I fear, I fear," he said looking at her, "that your gladness and my +sorrow meet on common ground. Child, what shall I do with you?"--but +what he did with her then was to put her in that same cradle and carry +her softly upstairs, to the very door of her room. + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + + +The same soft snow-storm was coming down when Faith opened her eyes +next morning; the air looked like a white sheet; but in her room a +bright fire was blazing, reddening the white walls, and by her side sat +Mrs. Derrick watching her. Very gentle and tender were the hands that +helped her dress, and then Mrs. Derrick said she would go down and see +to breakfast for a little while. + +"Wasn't it good your room was warm last night?" she said, stroking +Faith's hair. + +Faith's eyes acknowledged that. + +"And wasn't it good you were asleep!" she said laughing and kissing +Mrs. Derrick. "Mother!--I was so glad!" + +"That's the funny part of it," said Mrs. Derrick. "Reuben's just about +as queer in his way as Mr. Linden. The only thing I thought from the +way he gave the message, was that somebody cared a good deal about his +new possession--which I suppose is true," she added smiling; "and so I +just went to sleep." + +Mrs. Derrick went down; and Faith knelt on the rug before the fire and +bent her heart and head over her bible. In great happiness;--in great +endeavour that her happiness should stand well based on its true +foundations and not shift from them to any other. In sober endeavour to +lay hold, and feel that she had hold, of the happiness that cannot be +taken away; to make sure that her feet were on a rock, before she +stooped to take the sweetness of the flowers around her. And to judge +by her face, she had felt the rock and the flowers both, before she +left her room. + +The moment she opened her door and went out into the hall, Mr. Linden +opened his,--or rather it was already open, and he came out, meeting +her at the head of the stairs. And after his first greeting, he held +her still and looked at her for a moment--a little anxiously and +intently. "My poor, pale little child!" he said--"you are nothing but a +snowdrop this morning!" + +"Well that is a very good thing to be," said Faith brightly. But the +_colour_ resemblance he had destroyed. + +She was lifted and carried down just as she had been carried up last +night, and into the sitting-room again; for breakfast was prepared +there this morning, and the sofa wheeled round to the side of the fire +all ready for her. How bright the room looked!--its red curtains within +and its white curtains without, and everything so noiseless and sweet +and in order. Even the coffeepot was there by this time, and Mrs. +Derrick arranged the cups and looked at Faith on the sofa, with eyes +that lost no gladness when they went from her to the person who stood +at her side. Faith's eyes fell, and for a moment she was very sober. It +was only for a moment. + +"What a beautiful storm!" she said. "I am glad it snows. I am going to +do a great deal of work to-day." + +Mr. Linden looked at her. "Wouldn't you just as lieve be talked to +sleep?" + +She smiled. "You--couldn't--do that, Mr. Linden." + +"Mr. Linden can do more than you think--and will," he said with a +little comic raising of the eyebrows. + +For a while after breakfast Faith sat alone, except as her mother came +in and out to see that she wanted nothing,--alone in the soft snowy +stillness, till Mr. Linden came in from the postoffice and sat down by +her, laying against her cheek a soft little bunch of rosebuds and +violets. + +"Faith," he said, "you have been looking sober--what is the reason?" + +"I haven't been looking _too_ sober, have I? I didn't know I was +looking sober at all." + +She was looking quaint, and lovely; in the plain wrapper she had put on +and the soft thoughtful air and mien, in contrast with which the +diamonds jumped and flashed with every motion of her hand. A study book +lay in her lap. + +"How did all that happen last night?" said Mr. Linden abruptly. + +"Why!"--said Faith colouring and looking down at her ring--"I was +standing in the doorway and Nero was coming out with that great lamp; +and when he got opposite the screen something fell on it, I believe, +from the burning bookcases, and it was thrown over against him--I +thought the lamp and he would all go over together--and I jumped;--and +in putting up my hand to the lamp I suppose, for I don't remember, the +fluid must have run down my arm and on my shoulder--I don't know how it +got on fire, but it must have been from some of the burning wood that +fell. The next I knew, you were carrying me to the drawing-room--I have +a recollection of that." + +He listened with very grave eyes. + +"Were you trying to take the lamp from Nero?" + +"O no. I thought it was going to fall over." + +"What harm would it have done the floor?" + +The tinge of colour on Faith's cheek deepened considerably, and her +eyes lifted not themselves from the diamonds. She was not ready to +speak. + +"I did not think of the floor"-- + +"Of what then?" + +She waited again. "I was afraid some harm would be done,"-- + +"Did you prevent it?" + +"I don't know"--she said rather faintly. + +Gently her head was drawn down till it rested on his shoulder. + +"Faith," he said in his own low sweet tones, "I stretched a little +silken thread across the doorway to keep you out--did you make of that +a clue to find your way in?" + +She did not answer--nor stir. + +There were no more questions asked--no more words said; Mr. Linden was +as silent as she and almost as still. Once or twice his lips touched +her forehead, not just as they had ever done it before, Faith thought; +but some little time had passed, when he suddenly took up the book +which lay in her lap and began the lesson at which it lay open; reading +and explaining in a very gentle, steady voice, a little moved from its +usual clearness. Still his arm did not release her. Faith listened, +with a semidivided mind, for some time; there was something in this +state of things that she wished to mend. It came at last, when there +was a pause in the lesson. + +"I am glad of all that happened last night," she said, "except the pain +to you and mother. There is nothing to be sorry for. You shouldn't be +sorry." + +"Why not, little naughty child?--and why are you glad?" + +"Because--it was good for me,"--she said, not very readily nor +explicitly. + +"In what way?" + +"It was good for me,"--she repeated;--"it put me in mind of some +things." + +"Of what, dear child?" + +It was a question evidently Faith would rather not have answered. She +spoke with some difficulty. + +"That there are such things in the world as pain--and trouble. It is +best not to forget it." + +Mr. Linden understood and felt; but he only answered, "It will be the +business of my life to make you forget it. Now don't you think you +ought to put up this book, and rest or sleep?" + +"I dare say _you_ ought," said Faith,--"and I wish you would. _I_ want +to work." + +He gave her a laugh, by way of reply, and then gave her work as she +desired; watching carefully against her tiring herself in any way, and +making the lessons more of talk on his part and less of study on hers. +They were none the less good for that, nor any the less pleasant. Till +there came a knock at the front door; and then with a little sigh Faith +leaned back against the sofa, as if lessons were done. + +"There is Dr. Harrison." + +"And I shall have to be on my good behaviour," Mr. Linden said, +quitting the sofa. "But I suppose he will not stay all the rest of the +day." And as Cindy was slow in her movements, he went and opened the +door; Faith the while fitting on a glove finger. + +"First in one element, and then in another--" Mr. Linden said, as the +doctor came in from a sort of simoon of snow. + +"This one for me!" said Dr. Harrison shaking herself;--"but I should +say you must be out of your element to-day." + +"Wherefore, if you please?" said Mr. Linden, as he endeavoured to get +the doctor out of his. + +"Unless you live in a variety! I thought you were in your element last +night." And the doctor went forward into the sitting-room. The first +move was to take a seat by Faith and attend to her; and his address and +his inquiries, with the manner of them, were perfect in their kind. +Interested, concerned, tender, grateful, to the utmost limit of what +might have been in the circumstances testified by anybody, with equal +grace and skill they were limited there. Of special individual interest +he allowed no testimony to escape him--none at least that was +unequivocal. And Faith gave him answers to all he said, till he touched +her gloved finger and inquired if the fire had been at work there too. +Faith rather hastily drew it under cover and said no. + +"What is the matter with it?" + +"There is nothing bad the matter with it," said Faith, very imprudently +letting her cheeks get rosy. The doctor looked at her--told her he +could cure her finger if she would let him; and then rose up and +assumed his position before the fire, looking down at Mr. Linden. + +"There isn't much of a midge about you, after all," he said. + +"I suppose in the matter of wings we are about on a par. What is the +extent of the damage?" + +"It is nothing worth speaking of--I think now," said the doctor. "But +we are under an extent of obligation to you, my dear fellow,--which +sits on me as lightly as obligation so generously imposed should;--and +yet I should be doubly grateful if you could shew me some way in which +I could--for a moment--reverse the terms on which we stand towards each +other." + +"I don't think of any generous imposition just now," said Mr. Linden +smiling. "How are your father and sister?--I was afraid they would +suffer from the fright, if nothing else." + +"Strong nerves!" said the doctor shrugging his shoulders. "We all eat +our breakfast this morning, and wanted the chops done as much as usual. +Sophy _did_ suffer, though; but it was because Miss Faith would do +nothing but get hurt in the house and wouldn't stay to be made well." + +"I am sure I did something more than _that_," said Faith, to whom the +doctor had looked. + +"You don't deserve any thanks!" he said sitting down again beside +her;--"but there is somebody else that does, and I wish you would give +me a hint how to pay them. That young fellow who says he is no friend +of yours--he helped us bravely last night. What can I do to please him?" + +"Mr. Linden can tell best," said Faith looking to him. The doctor +turned in the same direction. + +"Thank you!" Mr. Linden said, and the words were warmly spoken, yet not +immediately followed up. "Thank you very much, doctor!" he repeated +thoughtfully--"I am not sure that Reuben wants anything just now,--next +summer, perhaps, he may want books." + +"I see _you_ are his friend?" + +"Yes--if you give the word its full length and breadth." + +"What is that?" said Dr. Harrison. "Don't go off to 'Nought and All.'" + +"I suppose in this case I may say, a mutual bond of trust, affection, +and active good wishes." + +"There's something in that fellow, I judge?" + +"You judge right." + +"A fisherman's son, I think you said. Well--I share the 'active good +wishes,' at least, if I can't assume the 'affection'--so think about my +question, Linden, and I'll promise to back your thoughts. What do you +do with yourself such a day? I was overcome with ennui--till I got out +into the elements." + +"Ennui is not one of my friends," said Mr. Linden smiling--"not even an +acquaintance. In fact I never even set a chair for him, as the woman in +Elia set a chair for the poor relation, saying, 'perhaps he will step +in to-day.' I have been busy, doctor--what shall I do to amuse you? +will you have a foreign newspaper?" + +The doctor looked dubious; then took the newspaper and turned it over, +but not as if he had got rid of his ennui. + +"This smoke in the house will drive us out of Pattaquasset a little +sooner than we expected." + +"Not this winter?" + +"Yes. _That's_ nothing new--but we shall go a few days earlier than we +meant. I wish you were going too." + +"When to return?" said Mr. Linden. "I mean you--not myself." + +"I?--I am a wandering comet," said the doctor. "I have astonished +Pattaquasset so long, it is time for me to flare up in some other +place. I don't know, Linden. Somebody must be here occasionally, to +overlook the refitting of the inside of that library--perhaps that +agreeable duty will fall on me. But Linden,"--said the doctor dropping +the newspaper and turning half round on his chair, speaking gracefully +and comically,--"_you_ astonish Pattaquasset as much as I do; and to +tell you the truth you astonish me sometimes a little. This is no place +for you. Wouldn't you prefer a tutorship at Quilipeak, or a professor's +chair in one of the city colleges? You may step into either berth +presently, and at your pleasure,--I know. I do not speak without +knowledge." + +There was a stir of feeling in Mr. Linden's face--there was even an +unwonted tinge of colour, but the firm-set lips gave no indication as +to whence it came; and he presently looked up, answering the doctor in +tones as graceful and more simple than his own. + +"Thank you, doctor, once more! But I have full employment, and am--or +am not--ambitious,--whichever way you choose to render it. Not to speak +of the pleasure of astonishing Pattaquasset," he added, with a smile +breaking out,--"I could not hope to do that for Quilipeak." + +"Please know," said the doctor, both frankly and with much respect in +his manner, "that I have been so presumptuous as to concern my mind +about this for some time--for which you will punish me as you think I +deserve. How to be so much further presumptuous as to speak to you +about it, was my trouble;--and I ventured at last," he said smiling, +"upon my own certain possession of certain points of that 'friend' +character which you were giving just now to Reuben Taylor--or to +yourself, in his regard." + +"I am sure you have them!--But about Reuben,--though I know reward is +the last thing he thought of or would wish,--yet I, his friend, choose +to answer for him, that if you choose to give him any of the books that +he will need in college, they will be well bestowed." + +"In college!" said the doctor. "Diable! Where is he going?" + +"Probably to Quilipeak." + +"You said, to college, man. I mean, what is college the road to, in the +youngster's mind?" + +"I am not sure that I have a right to tell you," said Mr. Linden,--"it +is in his mind a road to greater usefulness--so much I may say." + +"He'll never be more useful than he was last night. However, I'm +willing to help him try.--What is Mignonette going to do with herself +this afternoon?"--said the doctor throwing aside his newspaper and +standing before her. + +"I don't know," said Faith. "Sit here and work, I suppose." + +"I'll tell you what she ought to do," the doctor went on impressively. +"She ought to do what the flowers do when the sun goes down,--shut up +her sweetness to herself, see and be seen by nobody, and cease to be +conscious of her own existence." + +Faith laughed, in a way that gave doubtful promise of following the +directions. The doctor stood looking down at her, took her hand and +gallantly kissed it, and finally took himself off. + +"There is a good little trial of my patience!" Mr. Linden said. "I +don't know but it is well he is going away, for I might forget myself +some time, and bid him hands off." + +At which Faith looked thoughtful. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said, gently raising her face, "would you like to +live at Quilipeak?" + +The answer to that was a great rush of colour, and a casting down of +eyes and face too as soon as it was permitted. + +"Well?" he said smiling--though she felt some other thread in the +voice. "What did you think of the words that passed between the doctor +and me? Would you like to have me agree to his proposal?" + +"You would do what is best," she said with a good deal of effort. "I +couldn't wish anything else."-- + +He answered her mutely at first, with a deep mingling of gravity and +affection, as if she were very, very precious. + +"My dear little child!" he said, "if anything on earth could make me do +it, it would be you!--and yet I cannot." + +She looked up inquiringly; but except by that look, she asked nothing. + +"You strengthen my hands more than you weaken them," he said. "I am so +sure that you would feel with me!--I know it so well! I have a long +story to tell you, dear Faith,--some time, not now," he added, with a +sort of shadow coming over his face. "Will you let me choose my own +time? I know it is asking a good deal." + +"It would be asking a great deal more of me to choose any other," Faith +said with a sunny smile. "I like that time best." + +He passed his hand softly once or twice across her forehead, giving her +a bright, grateful look, though a little bit of a sigh came with it +too,--then drew her arm within his and led her slowly up and down the +room. + +But after dinner, and after one or two more lessons--under careful +guardianship, Faith was persuaded to lay herself on the sofa and rest, +and listen,--first to various bits of reading, then to talk about some +of her photographic pictures; the talk diverging right and left, into +all sorts of paths, fictional, historic, sacred and profane. Then the +light faded--the out-of-door light, still amid falling snow; and the +firelight shone brighter and brighter; and Mrs. Derrick stopped +listening, and went to the dining-room sofa for a nap. Then Mr. Linden, +who had been sitting at Faith's side, changed his place so as to face +her. + +"How do you feel to-night?" he asked. + +"Perfectly well--and as nicely as possible. Just enough remains of last +night to make it pleasant to lie still." + +"You are a real little sunbeam! Do you know I want you to go off with +me on a shining expedition?" + +"On _what_ sort of expedition?" said Faith laughing. + +"A shining one--I want to carry your bright face into all the darkest +places I can find." + +There was an alternation of amusement and a grave expression in her +face for a minute, one and the other flitting by turns; but then she +said quietly, "When, Mr. Linden?" + +"What shall I do with you?" he said,--"shall I call you Miss Derrick?" + +"No indeed!" she said colouring. "I don't often forget myself." + +"No, I shall not do that, for it would punish myself too much, but I +shall do something else--which will not punish me at all, and may +perhaps make you remember. What do you suppose it will be?" + +"I don't know"--she said flushing all over. + +"Nothing worse than this"--he said, bending his face to hers. "Faith! I +did not mean to frighten you so! I'll tell you where I want to take +you.--You know Monday is the first of January, and I want to go with +you to those houses in the neighbourhood where the wheels of the new +year drag a little, and try to give them a pleasant start. Would you +like it?" + +"O!"--she said, springing forward with a delighted exclamation.--"Tell +me, just what you mean. To which houses?" + +"I mean that if you are well, we will have a long, long sleigh ride, +and leave as many little pieces of comfort and pleasure by the way as +we can. The houses, dear, will be more than you think--I must make out +a list." + +Faith clapped her hands. + +"O delicious! That is the best thing we could possibly do with Monday! +and there are two days yet this week--I shall have plenty of chance, +mother and I, to make everything. O what sorts of things shall we take? +and what are some of the houses? There is Mrs. Dow, where we went that +night,"--she said, her voice falling,--"and Sally Lowndes--what places +are you thinking off?" + +"I think we might give Reuben at least a visit, if nothing else,--and +there are a good many such houses down about those points, and far on +along the shore. I was thinking most of them--though there are some +nearer by. But my Mignonette must not tire herself,--I did not mean to +bring anything but pleasure upon her hands." + +"You can't! in this way," said Faith in delighted eagerness. "Who keeps +house in Reuben's home? he has no mother." + +"No--I suppose I may say that he keeps house,--for his father is away a +great deal, and Reuben always seems to be doing what there is to do. As +to things--you will want some for well people, and some for sick,--at +some houses the mere necessary bread and meat, and at others any of +those little extras which people who spend all their money for bread +and meat can never get. But little child," Mr. Linden said smiling, "if +I let you prepare, you must let me send home." + +"What?" said she. "I thought you said we would both take them together?" + +He laughed--taking her hand and holding it in both his. + +"And so we will!--I meant, send home here, to prepare." + +"Oh!--Well," said Faith, "but we have a great deal now, you know; and I +can send Mr. Skip to get more. But one thing I know--we will take +Reuben a roast turkey!" + +I wonder if she could tell, in the firelight, with what eyes he watched +her and listened to her! Probably not, for his back was towards the +fire, and the changing light and shade on his face was a little +concealed. But the light had the mastery. + +"Faith," he said, "I shall send you home some sugar-plums--upon express +condition that you are not to eat them up; being quite sweet enough +already." + +His face was so hid that probably Faith thought her own was hid too, +and did not know how clearly its moved timid changes were seen. She +leaned forward, and touching one hand lightly to his shoulder, said, + +"What do you mean to make me,--Endecott?" + +It was a thing to hear, the soft fall and hesitancy of Faith's voice at +the last word. Yet they hardly told of the struggle it had cost. How +the word thrilled him she did not know,--the persons living from whom +he ever had that name were now so few, that there was a strange +mingling with the exquisite pleasure of hearing it from her lips,--a +mingling of past grief and of present healing. He changed his place +instantly; and taking possession of her, gave her the most gentle, +tender, and silent thanks. Perhaps too much touched to speak--perhaps +feeling sure that if he spoke at all it would be in just such words as +she had so gently reproved. The answer at last was only a bright, "I +told you I could not promise--and I will not now!" + +She pushed her head round a little so that she could give a quick +glance into his face, in which lay her answer. Her words, when she +spoke, made something of a transition, which however was proved by the +voice to be a transition in words only. + +"Wouldn't a bag of potatoes be a good thing for us to take?" + +"Certainly!--and we must take some books, and some orders for wood. And +you must have a basket of trifles to delight all the children we meet." + +"That's easy! And books, will you take? that's delicious! that's better +than anything, for those who can enjoy them. Do you think any of them +want bibles?" + +"We will take some, at a venture--I never like to go anywhere without +that supply. And then we shall both have to use our wits to find out +just what is wanted in a particular place,--the people that tell you +most have often the least to tell. And above all, Faith, we shall want +plenty of sympathy and kind words and patience,--they are more called +for than anything else. Do you think you can conjure up a sufficient +supply?" + +"It is something I know so little about!" said Faith. "I have never had +very much chance. When I went to see Mrs. Custers I didn't in the least +know how to speak to her. But these people where we are going all know +_you_, I suppose?"--she said with another and not a little wistful look +up into his face. + +"Most of them--more or less. What of it?" + +"That makes it easy," she said quietly. "But I suppose it would be just +the same if you didn't know them! About the sick people,--Endecott--if +you can tell us _how_ they are sick, mother and I between us can make +out what things to prepare for them." + +"Did you think I was in earnest, dear Faith, when I asked about your +sympathy?" Mr. Linden said, drawing her closer. + +"No.--I think I have the sympathy, but I don't so well know how to shew +it. Then loaves of bread, I suppose, wouldn't come amiss?--And above +all, meat. Where else do you think a roast turkey ought to go?" + +"To one particular far-off house on the shore that is brim full of +little children--and nothing else!" + +"We'll take them a big one," said Faith smiling,--"and I suppose it is +no matter how many cakes! You'll have to make a very particular list, +with some notion of what would be best at each place; because in some +houses they wouldn't bear what in others they would be very glad of. +Wouldn't that be good? So that we might be sure to have the right thing +everywhere--_one_ right thing, at any rate. The other things might take +their chance." + +"Yes, I will do that. But you know the first thing is, that you should +get well, and the next that you should _not_ get tired,--and these must +be secured, if nobody ever has anything." + +Faith's laugh was joyous. + +"To-morrow I mean to make cakes and pies," she said,--"and the next day +I will bake bread and roast turkeys and boil beef! And you have no idea +what a quantity of each will be wanted! I think I never saw anybody so +good at talking people to sleep!--that didn't want to go. Now what is +that?" For the knocker of the front door sounded loudly again. + +"It is something to send people away--that don't want to go!" Mr. +Linden said, as he put her back in her old position on the cushions, +and moved his chair to a respectful distance therefrom. But nothing +worse came in this time than a note, well enveloped and sealed, which +was for Mr. Linden. It ran after this fashion.-- + + "_In the snow--yet and the chair + not only set for Ennui, but + ennui in the chair!_ + +"_This 28th Dec_. 18 + +"DEAR LINDEN, + +You see my condition. I am desperate for want of something to do--_so_ +I send you this. Enclosed you will please find--if you haven't dropped +it on the floor!--$25, for the bibliothecal and collegiate expenses of +'Miss Derrick's friend.' If you should hereafter know him to be in +further want of the same kind of material aid and comfort--please +convey intelligence of the same to myself or father. He---i. e-. said +'friend'--saved to _us_ last night far more than the value of this. + +I am sorry I have no more to say! for your image--what else could it +be?--has for the moment frightened Ennui into the shadow--but he will +come back again as soon as I have sealed this. By which you will know +when you read the (then) present condition of + +Your friend most truly + +JULIUS HARRISON. + + +In Pattaquasset, is it?" + + +Mr. Linden read the note by firelight and standing--then came and sat +down by Faith and put it in her hands. By firelight Faith read it +hastily, and looked up with eyes of great delight. "Oh!" she +said,--"isn't that good!" Then she looked down at the note soberly +again. + +"Well, little child? what?" he said smiling. "Yes, I am very glad. What +are you doubting about?" + +"I am not doubting about anything," she said giving him the +note,--"only thinking of this strange man." + +"Is he very strange?" Mr. Linden said. But he did not pursue the +subject, going back instead to the one they had been upon, to give her +the information she had asked for about the sick people they were +likely to meet in their rounds; passing gradually from that to other +matters, thence into silence. And Faith followed him, step by +step,--only when he was quite silent, she was--asleep! + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + + +The next two days were busy ones, all round; for though Faith was +carefully watched, by both her guardians, yet she was really well and +strong enough again to be allowed to do a good deal; especially with +those intervals of rest and study which Mr. Linden managed for her. His +work, between these intervals, took him often out of doors, and various +were the tokens of that work which came home--greatly to Faith's +interest and amusement. They were curiously indicative, too, both of +the varied wants of the poor people in the neighbourhood, and of his +knowledge on the subject. From a little pair of shoes which was to +accompany one roast turkey, to the particular sort of new fishing net +which was to go with the other, it really seemed as if every sort of +thing was wanted somewhere,--simple things, and easy to get, and not +costing much,--but priceless to people who had no money at all. Faith +was appointed receiver general, and her hands were full of amusement as +well as business. And those two things were the most of all that Mr. +Linden suffered to come upon them,--whatever his own means might be, it +was no part of his plan to trench upon Mrs. Derrick's; though she on +her part entered heart and hands into the work, with almost as much +delight as Faith herself, and would have given the two carte-blanche to +take anything she had in the house. Faith didn't ask _him_ what she +should take there, nor let him know much about it till Monday. By this +time, what with direct and indirect modes of getting at the knowledge, +Faith had become tolerably well acquainted with the class or classes of +wants that were to be ministered to. Many were the ovenfuls that were +baked that Friday and Saturday! great service did the great pot that +was used for boiling great joints! nice and comforting were the broths +and more delicate things provided, with infinite care, for some four or +five sick or infirm people. But Faith's delight was the things Mr. +Linden sent home; every fresh arrival of which sent her to the kitchen +with a new accession of zeal, sympathy, and exultation,--sympathy with +him and the poor people; exultation in the work--most of all in him! +Great was the marvelling of Cindy and Mr. Skip at these days' +proceedings. + +So passed Friday and Saturday; and Sunday brought a lull. Faith thought +so, and felt so. Her roast turkeys and chickens were reposing in spicy +readiness; her boiled meats and bakeries were all accomplished and in +waiting; and dismissing all but a little joyful background thought of +them, Faith gave her whole heart and mind to the full Sabbath rest, to +the full Sabbath rising; and looked, in her deep happiness, as if she +were--what she was--enjoying the one and striving after the other. But +the ways by which we are to find the good we must seek, are by no means +always those of our own choosing. + +It was a clear, cold, still, winter's day. Cold enough by the +thermometer; but so still that the walking to church was pleasant. They +had come home from the afternoon service--Faith had not taken off her +things--when she was called into the kitchen to receive a message. The +next minute she was in the sitting-room and stood by the side of Mr. +Linden's chair. + +"Mrs. Custers is dying--and has sent for me." + +"For you, dear child?--Well--Are you able to go?" + +"Oh yes." + +He looked at her in silence, as if he were making up his own mind on +the subject, then rose up and gently seating her on the sofa, told her +to rest there till he was ready; but before he came back again Mrs. +Derrick came to Faith's side with a smoking cup of chicken broth and a +biscuit. + +"You've got to eat it, pretty child," she said fondly,--"we're both +agreed upon that point." + +Which point mandate Faith did not try to dispute. + +The town clock had struck four, all counted, when Jerry dashed off from +the door with the little sleigh behind him. No other sleigh-bells were +abroad, and his rang out noisily and alone over the great waste of +stillness as soon as they were quit of the village. The air happily was +very still and the cold had not increased; but low, low the sun was, +and sent his slant beams coolly over the snow-white fields, glinting +from fences and rocks and bare thickets with a gleam that threatened he +would not look at them long. The hour was one of extreme beauty,--fair +and still, with a steady strength in its stillness that made the beauty +somewhat imposing. There was none of the yielding character of summer +there; but a power that was doing its work and would do it straight +through. "He giveth forth his ice like morsels; who can stand before +his cold?"--thought Faith. + +The sleighing was excellent; the roads in perfect condition. + +"How long is it since you were here?" Mr. Linden said as the house came +in sight, shewn only by its twinkling panes of glass. + +"Not since before I went to Pequot--not since a day or two after that +ride we took with Dr. Harrison, when you rode 'Stranger' the first +time." + +"How was she then?" + +"Not much different from what she had been before--she didn't say +much--she seemed to like to listen to me, or to see me, or both. That +was all I could be sure of." + +"Try not to let her spend her strength in examining the past state of +her mind. Bid her lay hold of the promise now. A present hold will +answer all her questions--and is all the oldest Christian can rest in." + +"I wish you could speak to her instead of me," said Faith. "Perhaps she +will let you." + +"It is not you nor I, my child.--Fix your heart upon Christ, and let +him speak,--fix your eyes upon him, and let his light shine." + +"I know it. O I do!--" she said, looking up at him with an humble, +moved face. + +He lifted her out of the sleigh and led her up to the house, where they +were presently admitted; into an outer room first, where Faith could +lay off her furs. + +"She's some brighter to-night," the woman in attendance said, in answer +to Mr. Linden's questions. "I guess she'll be real glad to see +you"--this was addressed to Faith. + +Faith left Mr. Linden there, and went into the sick chamber alone; +where she was always received as if she had brought an olive branch, or +a palm branch, or both of them, in her hand. The spirit of both, no +doubt, was in her; the gentle face looked the promise of both peace and +victory, as only humility can look it. + +Mrs. Custers on her part looked--as the other had said--glad; if so +bright a word could be applied to a face that had lost all its own +light, and where no reflected light as yet shone. Yet she was quieter +than when Faith had first seen her, whether from mental relief or +physical prostration, and was most eager for all Faith's +words,--listening for the most part in silence, but with eyes that +never said "enough." As some poor exhausted traveller takes the water +which he has at last reached in the desert, nor knows yet whether its +bright drops can avail to save his life, but lays him down by the +fountain--there to live or die. And Faith, feeling that her hand was +ministering those drops of life, lost every other thought,--except to +wish for a hand that could do it better. Once she ventured a +proposition. + +"I have a friend here, Mrs. Custers, who can tell you about all these +things much better than I can. Will you let him? May I ask him to come +in and see you?" + +"Better?" she said slowly--"I don't believe it. Who is he? your +brother?" + +"No--I haven't any brother. But that don't matter. He's somebody that +is a great deal better than I am. May I let him come in? He's here," +said Faith very quietly, along with her flushing cheek. + +There was a poor little faint smile for a moment upon the sick woman's +lips while Faith spoke, but it passed and she answered in the same +tone--"I'll see him--to please you--before you go. I just want the +words now--and I like you best." + +Faith troubled her no more with unnecessary suggestions, and gave her +"the words." Gave them with the fragrance of her own love about them, +which certainly is the surest human vehicle for the love above human +that is in them. As on that first occasion, Faith placed herself on the +side of the bed; and holding one of Mrs. Custers' hands in her own, +bending her soft quiet face towards the listening eyes and ears, she +gave her one by one, like crumbs of life-giving food, the words of +promise, of encouragement, of invitation, of example. No answer cheered +or helped her; no token of pleasure or even of assent met her; only +those fixed listening eyes bade her go on, and told that whether for +life and refreshment or no, the words were eagerly taken in, each after +the other, as she said them. There was something in the strong sympathy +of the speaker--in her own feeling and joy of the truths she told--that +might give them double power and life to the ears of another. Faith +reported the words of her Master with such triumphant prizing of them +and such leaning on their strength; she gave his invitations in such +tones of affection; she told over the instances of others' prevailing +faith with such an evident, clear, satisfying share in the same;--the +living words this time lost nothing of their power by a dead utterance. +Of her own words Faith ventured few; now and then the simplest addition +to some thing she had repeated, to make it more plain, or to carry it +further home; such words as she could not keep back; such words, very +much, as she would have spoken to Johnny Fax; not very unlike what +Johnny Fax might have spoken to her. But there was not a little +physical exhaustion about all this after a while, and Faith found she +must have some help to her memory. She went into the other room. + +"I want a bible," she said looking round for it--"Is there one here?" + +Yes there was one, but it was Mr. Linden's. That was quickly given her. + +"I forgot it at the moment you went in," he said, "and then I did not +like to disturb you. My dear Faith!--" and he held her hand and looked +at her a little wistfully. She brought her other hand upon his, and +looked down and looked up wistfully too; like one with a heart full. + +"Can I help you? can I take your place?" + +"She won't let you," said Faith shaking her head. "She says she will +see you by and by--but she must take her own time for it." + +And Faith went back to her ministrations. Of all bibles, she would have +had that one in her hand then! And yet its companionship bowed down her +heart with a sense of weakness;--but that was the very position for the +next move; a spring beyond weakness to the only real and sufficient +ground of strength. + +The afternoon merged into the evening. A tallow candle had been brought +by the attendant into the room in which Mr. Linden was waiting; and its +dim smoky light would have made a dismal place of it if he had had no +other to go by. He could sometimes hear the low tones of a word or two +in the other room; more often the tones were so low that they failed to +reach him. When this state of things had lasted a long time--as it +seemed--there came an interruption in the form of quick steps on the +snow; then the door was pushed open, and Dr. Harrison appeared. + +"You here!" was his astonished salutation. "What upon earth has brought +you?" + +"I came to bring some one else." + +"_She_ isn't here?" said the doctor. "You don't mean that?" + +His emphatic pronouns were a little smile-provoking, in spite of the +grave thoughts upon which they intruded--or rather perhaps because of +them; but if Mr. Linden's face felt that temptation, it was only for a +moment,--he answered quietly, + +"If you mean Miss Faith, she has been here a long time." + +The doctor knew that! if she came when she was called. _He_ had stopped +to eat his dinner. + +"I mean her, of course," he said with his tone a little subdued. "I +shouldn't think her mother would have let her come--such a night!--" +Which meant very plainly that Dr. Harrison would not have let her.--"Is +she in there with the woman now?" + +"Yes." + +The doctor went with grave aspect to the door of communication between +the two rooms and softly opened it and went in; so softly, that Faith, +engaged in her reading, did not hear anything; the sick woman's eyes +were the first that perceived him. Hers rested on him a moment--then +came back to Faith, and then again met the doctor's; but not just as +they had been wont. And her first words bore out his impression. + +"You may come in," she said, slowly and distinctly,--"I'm not afraid of +you to-night." + +He came forward, looked at her, touched her hand, kindly; and then +without a word turned to Faith. + +Faith did not dare ask a question, but her eyes put it silently. + +"She don't want anything," said he meaningly. "Not from me. She may +have anything she fancies to have." + +Faith's eyes went back to the other face. That the doctor's words had +been understood there too, was evident from the little flitting colour, +and the sick woman lay still with closed eyes, clasping Faith's hand as +if she were holding herself back from drifting out on "that great and +unknown sea." But she roused herself and spoke hurriedly. "Won't +somebody pray for me?" + +Faith bent over until her lips almost touched the sufferer's cheek and +her warm breath floated in the words, "I'll bring somebody--" then +loosing her hold, she sprang from the bed and out into the other room. +But when she had clasped Mr. Linden's hand, Faith bent down her head +upon it, unable to speak. The strength it could, his hand gave her--and +his voice. + +"What, my dear child?" + +Then Faith looked up. "She wants you to pray for her." And without +waiting for the unnecessary answer, she led Mr. Linden to the door of +the room, there dropped his hand and went in before him. Dr. Harrison +was standing by the bedpost, and looked wordlessly upon the two as they +entered. + +Mrs. Custers scanned the stranger's face as he came to wards her, with +an anxious, eager look, as if she wanted to know whether he could do +anything for her; the look changing to one of satisfaction. But to his +low-spoken question as he took her hand, she gave an answer that was +almost startling in its slow earnestness. + +"Pray that I may believe--and that _he_ may--and that God would bless +her forever!" + +How was such a request to be met! then and there!--for a moment Mr. +Linden's eyes fell. But then he knelt by her side, and met it most +literally,--in tones very low and clear and distinct, in words that +might have been angels' plumage for their soft bearing upward of the +sufferer's thoughts. Faith could feel a slight trembling once or twice +of the hand that held hers, but the bitterness of its grasp had +relaxed. Dr. Harrison was behind her; whether he stood or knelt she did +not know; but _he_ knew that when the other two rose to their feet, one +of them was exceedingly pale; and his move, made on the instant, was to +get her a glass of water. Faith only tasted it and gave it him back, +and mounted to her former place on the bed. And for a little all was +still, until Mr. Linden spoke again in the same clear, guiding tones. + + "'My God, within thy hand + My helpless soul I trust! + Thy love shall ever stand-- + Thy promise must!--'" + + +Then Mrs. Custers opened her eyes; and her first look was at Dr. +Harrison. But whether the relaxed mental tension let the bodily +weakness appear, or whether the tide was at that point where it ebbs +most rapidly, her words were spoken with some trouble--yet spoken as if +both to make amends and give information. + +"You meant to be very kind--" she said--"and you have--But _now_ I want +to believe--even if it isn't any use." + +Her eyes passed from him--rested for a minute on Mr. Linden--then came +to Faith, and never wavered again. "Read"--was all she said. + +With unnerved lip and quivering breath Faith began again her sweet +utterance of some of those sweetest things. For a moment she longed to +ask the other two listeners to go away and leave her alone; but +reasons, different and strong, kept her mouth from speaking the wish; +and then, once dismissed, it was forgotten. Her voice steadied and grew +clear presently; its low, distinct words were not interrupted by so +much as a breath in any part of the room. They steadied her; Faith +rested on them and clung to them as she went along, with a sense of +failing energy which needed a stay somewhere. But her words did not +shew it, except perhaps that they came more slowly and deliberately. +Mr. Linden had drawn back a little out of sight. Dr. Harrison kept his +stand by the bedpost, leaning against it; and whatever that reading was +to him, he was as motionless as that whereon he leaned. + +Till some little length of time had passed in this way, and then he +came to Faith's side and laid his hand on her open book. + +"She does not hear you," he said softly. + +Faith looked at him startled, and then bent forward over the woman +whose face was turned a little from her. + +"She is sleeping"--she said looking up again. + +"She will not hear you any more," said the doctor. + +"She breathes, regularly,--" + +"Yes--so she will for perhaps some hours. But she will not waken +again,--probably." + +"Are you sure?" Faith said with another look at the calm face before +her. + +"Very sure!"-- + +Was it true? Faith looked still at the unconscious form,--then her +bible fell from her hands and her head wearily sunk into them. The +strain was over--broken short. She had done all she could,--and the +everlasting answer was sealed up from her. Those heavy eyelids would +not unclose again to give it; those parted lips through which the slow +breath went and came, would never tell her. It seemed to Faith that her +heart lay on the very ground with the burden of all that weight resting +upon it. + +She was not suffered to sit so long. + +"May I take you away?"--Mr. Linden said,--"you must not stay any +longer." + +"Do you think it is no use?" said Faith looking up at him wearily. + +"It is of no use," said Dr. Harrison. He had come near, and took her +hand, looking at her with a moved face in which there was something +very like tender reproach. But he only brought her hand gravely to his +lips again and turned away. Mr. Linden's words were very low-spoken. "I +think the doctor is right.--But let me take you home, and then I will +come back and stay till morning if you like--or till there comes a +change. _You_ must not stay." + +"I don't like to go,"--said Faith without moving. "She may want me +again." + +"There may be no change all night," said the doctor;--"and when it +comes it will not probably be a conscious change. If she awakes at all, +it will be to die. You could do nothing more." + +Faith saw that Mr. Linden thought so, and she gave it up; with a +lingering unwillingness got off the bed and wrapped her furs round her. +Mr. Linden put her into the sleigh, keeping Jerry back to let the +doctor precede them; and when he was fairly in front, Faith was doubly +wrapped up--as she had been the night of the fire, and could take the +refreshment of the cool air, and rest. Very wearily, for a while, mind +and body both dropped. Faith was as still as if she had been asleep; +but her eyes were gazing out upon the snow, following the distant speck +of the doctor's sleigh, or looking up to the eternal changeless lights +that keep watch over this little world and mock its changes. Yet not +so! but that bear their quiet witness that there is something which is +not "passing away;"--yea, that there is something which "endureth +forever." + +"He calleth them all by their names; for that he is strong in power, +not one faileth." That was in Faith's mind along with other words--"The +Lord knoweth them that are his." Her mind was in a passive state; +things floated in and floated out. It was some time before Mr. Linden +said anything--he let her be as silent and still as she would; but at +last he bent over her and spoke. + +"My Mignonette"--and the thought was not sweeter than the words--"are +you asleep?" + +"No--" she said in one of those etherial answering tones which +curiously say a great many things. + +"Are you resting?" + +"Yes. I am rested." + +"You must try not to bear the burden of your work after it is done. Now +lay it off--and leave your poor friend in the hands where I trust she +has left herself. Her senses are not closed to his voice." + +"I do"--she said with a grateful look. "I know it is not my work--nor +anybody's." + +He drew the furs up about her silently, arranging and adjusting them so +as to keep off the wind which had risen a little. + +"We are not very far from home now,--we have come fast." + +And as Jerry did not relax his pace, the little distance was soon +travelled over. How fair the lights in their own windows looked +then!--with their speech of blessing and comfort. + +They all came together round the fire first, and then round the +tea-table; Faith being specially watched over and waited on by both the +others. Mrs. Derrick's half developed fear at their long stay, had +given place to a sort of moved, untalkative mood when she heard the +explanation, but a mood which relieved itself by trying every possible +and impossible thing for Faith's refreshment. Every possible thing +except refreshing talk--and that Mr. Linden gave her. Talk which +without jarring in the least upon the evening's work, yet led her +thoughts a little off from the painful part of it. Talk of the +Christian's work--of the Christian's privilege,--of "Heaven and the way +thither,"--of the gilding of the cross, of the glory of the crown. +Faith heard and joined in it, but there was a point of pressure yet at +her heart; and when they left the table and went into the other room, a +slight thing gave indication where it lay. Faith took a little bench by +Mrs. Derrick's side, drew her mother's arms round her close, and laid +her head down on her lap. + +How softly, how tenderly, did Mrs. Derrick answer the caress, as if she +read it perfectly!--touching Faith's hands and brow and cheeks with +fingers that were even trembling. And at last--whether her child's mute +pleading was too much for her,--whether the pain which had never left +her heart since the day of Faith's overturn had by degrees done its +work,--she bent down her lips to Faith's cheek and whispered--"Yes, +pretty child--I mean to try." + +And so the door opened, and Cindy and Mr. Skip came in for prayers. +Faith hid her face, but otherwise did not stir. + +How sweet the service was to them all that night!--yes, to them all; +there was not one who could help feeling its influence. And yet it was +very simple, and not very long,--Mr. Linden read first a few Bible +passages, and then Wesley's hymn of the New Year,--with its bugle note +of action,--and then to prayer, for which, by that time, every heart +was ready. + + "Come let us anew our journey pursue, + Roll round with the year, + And never stand still till the Master appear. + His adorable will let us gladly fulfil, + And our talents improve, + By the patience of hope and the labours of love. + + "Our life is a dream; our time, as a stream, + Glides swiftly away, + And the fugitive moment refuses to stay. + The arrow is flown--the moment is gone; + The millennial year + Rushes on to our view, and eternity's here. + + "O that each, in the day of his coming, may say, + I have fought my way through; + I have finished the work thou didst give me to do. + O that each from his Lord may receive the glad word, + Well and faithfully done! + Enter into my joy, and sit down on my throne." + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + + +The first morning of the new year turned out as bright as could be +desired for the great sleigh-riding expedition; the very day for it. +And in the very mood for it were the people who were to go. Not but +somewhat of last night's gravity hung about Faith's bright face; the +one did no hurt to the other; for the best brightness is always sure to +be grave, and the best gravity is almost sure to be bright, on some +side. However there was nothing _contemplative_ about the character of +things this morning; there was too much action afoot. Such an army of +meats and drinks, with all sorts of odd ends and varieties, from the +shoes to the fishing-net, and such an array of apples and +sugarplums!--to marshal and order them all in proper companies and +ranks, wanted a general! But Faith was by no means a bad general, and +up to the act of stowing the sleigh, at which point the things were +made over to Mr. Linden and Mr. Skip, her part was well done. And Mr. +Linden found in the course of _his_ part of the business that Mrs. +Derrick and Faith had followed a lead of their own. + +There had been a pretty packing and tying up and labelling at the +table, before the sleigh-packing began,--Faith's busy little fingers +went in and out with great dexterity; and either Mr. Linden thought it +was pleasant to her--or knew it was pleasant to him, to have them so +engaged; for though he stood by and talked to her, and laughed at her, +he let the said little fingers have their way; except when they touched +some harsh bit of string, or rough bit of paper, or unmanageable +package, and then his own interfered. It was a bright packing +up--without a shadow, at least that could be called such. But once or +twice, when with some quick movement of Faith's hand the diamonds +flashed forth their weird light suddenly,--she did see that Mr. +Linden's eyes went down, and that his mouth took a set which if not of +pain, was at least sad. It never lasted long--and the next look was +always one of most full pleasure at her. But the second time, Faith's +heart could hardly bear it. She guessed at the why and the what; but +words were too gross a medium to convey from spirit to spirit the touch +that love could give and pain bear. She watched her chance; and when +one of Mr. Linden's hands was for a moment resting on a package that +the other was busied in arranging, suddenly laying the jewelled hand on +his, Faith's lips kept it company. + +"Faith!" he said. And then as if he saw it all, he did not say another +word, only held her for a minute in a very, very close embrace. But +then he whispered, + +"Faith--you must give me that in another way." + +Faith appeared to have exhausted her ammunition, for she only answered +by hiding her face. + +"Faith"--Mr. Linden repeated. + +She looked up slowly, blushing all over; and her very doubtful face +seemed to negative the whole proceeding. But then an irrepressible +little laugh began to play. + +"I wouldn't do it," she said unsteadily,--"at least, I don't know that +I would--if I hadn't wished so very much to give you something +to-day;--and I have nothing else!--" + +And nerving herself desperately, Faith laid one hand on Mr. Linden's +shoulder and slightly raising herself on her toes, did bestow on his +lips as dainty a kiss as ever Santa Claus brought in his box of New +Year curiosities. But she was overcome with confusion the moment she +had done it, and would have rushed off if that had been possible. + +"Let me go"--she said hastily--"let me go!"-- + +In answer to which, she was held as securely fast as she ever had been +in her life. Covering and hiding all of her face that she could, Faith +renewed her request, in a comical tone of humility--as if she didn't +deserve it. + +"I never felt less inclined to let you go!" + +"There is all that work to be done," said Faith, by way of possibly +useful suggestion. + +"Mignonette, will you remember your new lesson?" + +She whispered softly, "No.--It was only Santa Claus." + +"Not Campaspe?" + +"No--Certainly not!" + +"You remember," said Mr. Linden, "that when--'Cupid and Campaspe played +at cards for kisses, _Cupid paid_.'--I was unavoidably reminded of +that. But you may go on with your work,--you know what happens when +lessons are learned imperfectly." And liberty for her work she had; no +more. + +"Child," said her mother coming in, "are you ready for your lunch?" + +"Why no, mother," said Faith with a little laugh,--"of course not! but +I can take it as I go on. There's a good deal of 'sorting' to do yet. I +hope the sleigh is big." + +"Take it as you go on, indeed!" said Mrs. Derrick. "You've got to stop +and eat, child,--you can't live till night with nothing but other +folk's dinners." + +Faith however declared she could not _stop_ to eat; and she contrived +to carry on both the rival occupations together; and even to make right +sure that no one else should attempt to live upon anything more +etherial than sandwiches and pumpkin pie. She drank her coffee in the +intervals of tying packages and writing labels, and ran about with a +sandwich in one hand and a basket in the other; filling Mr. Linden's +cup and putting tempting platefuls in his way. But he was as busy as +she,--spending much of his time at the barn, where Squire +Stoutenburgh's pretty little box sleigh was in process of filling with +cloaks, buffalo robes, and commodities! At last everything was in, and +Mr. Linden came to announce that fact to Faith,--furs and hood were +donned, and the sleigh was off with its whole load. + +Bright, bright the snow was, and blue the shadows, and fair the white +expanse of hill and meadow, all crisp and sparkling. Everybody was +out--which was not wonderful; but so well had Mr. Linden disposed and +covered up his packages, that all anybody could see was that he and +Faith were taking a sleigh-ride,--which was not wonderful either. And +before long they left the more frequented roads, and turned down the +lane that led to the dwelling of Sally Lowndes. How different it looked +now, from that summer evening when Faith had gone there alone. What a +colouring then lay on all the ground that was now white with sunlight +and blue with shade! And also, what a difference in the mental +colouring. But Jerry, travelling faster than her feet had done, soon +brought them to the house. Mr. Linden buckled the tie, and helped +Faith to emerge from the buffalo robes; the winter wind blowing fresh +from the sea, and sweeping over the down till Jerry shook his blanket +in disapproval. + +"Now my little counsellor," said Mr. Linden, "what does your wisdom say +should go in here--besides this basket of substantiate? I think you +know more of these people than I do?"--And the surf in its cold +monotony, said--"Anything warm!" + +"Mother has put in a shawl for Sally," said Faith, getting out the +package;--(it was one that Mrs. Derrick found she could do +without,)--"and a little paper of tea,--tea is Sally's greatest +delight,--here it is!" + +Sally's abode was in nothing different from the run of poor houses in +the country; unpainted of course, outside and inside; a rag carpet on +the floor, a gay patchwork coverlet on the bed. Sally herself was in +the rocking-chair before a little wood fire. But there was not the look +of even poor comfort which may sometimes be seen; want, that told of +lack of means and that also went deeper, was visible in everything. + +"I've come to wish you a happy new year, Sally," said Faith brightly. + +"Laws! I wonder where it's to come from!" said Sally. "If _wishin'_ I +would fetch it--I've wished it to myself till I'm tired. Happy new +years don't come to all folks. Aint that--How do you do, sir!--aint it +the gentleman Jenny told of? that fell down at Mr. Simlins' door?" + +"And got up again?" said Mr. Linden. "Yes, I presume I am the very +person Jenny told of. I remember that Jenny was very kind to me, too. +Where is she?" + +"O she's to Mr. Simlinses all along! she's got a good place; she knows +when she's comfortable. She don't think of me stayin' here all alone." + +"But aren't you comfortable, Sally?" said Faith. + +"I should like to know how I would be! Folks that _is_ comfortable +thinks all the world is like them! If they didn't they'd help." + +"Well what is the first thing that would help to make you comfortable?" +said Mr. Linden. + +Sally looked at him, up and down. + +"I'd like to see a speck o' somebody's face now and then. I mope and +mope, till I wish I'd die to get rid of it! You see, sir, I aint as I +used to was; and my family aint numerous now. There's no one lives in +this house over my head but me and a girl what stays by me to do +chores. Aint that a life for a spider?" + +Faith had been stealthily unfolding the shawl and now put it round +Sally's shoulders. "Will _that_ help to make you comfortable?" she said +gently. + +"Laws!" said Sally--"aint that smart! That's good as far as it goes. +Where did that come from?" + +"Mother sent it to you, for New Year." + +"It's real becoming of her!" said Sally in a mollified tone, feeling of +the shawl. "Well I won't say this New Years haint brought me something." + +"It brings you too much cold air at present," Mr. Linden said. "Do you +know that window lets in about as much cold as it keeps out?" + +"Well I reckon I do," said Sally. "I've nothin' to do all day but sit +here and realize onto it. There aint no such a thing as buildin' a fire +in the chimney that'll keep out the cold from that winter." + +"I should think not!--the way is to attack the window itself," he said, +looking at it as if he were studying the attack. + +"We've brought you something else here, Sally, to help keep out the +cold," said Faith. "May I put the things in your closet--so as to carry +home my basket?" + +"Yes, if you like. What have you got there, Faith?" said Miss Lowndes +looking into the closet after her. + +"There's a piece of beef, Sally, of mother's own curing--all ready +cooked--so you'll have nothing to do but cook your potatoes--and mother +thought you'd like a few of our potatoes, they're good this year. Then +here is a little paper of tea she sent you, and I've brought you one of +my own pumpkin pies--so you must say it is good, Sally." + +"Well I'm beat!" said Sally. "Haint you got something else?" + +She was like to be beat on all hands; for Mr. Linden who had been +examining the window while Faith emptied her basket, now went out and +presently brought back hammer and nails and strips of lath, that made +Faith wonder whether he had brought a tool-chest along. But the noise +of his hammer was much more cheerful than the rattling of the window, +and when it had done its work outside as well as in, the wind might +whistle for admission in vain. He came in and stood by the fire for a +moment then, before they set off, and asked Faith softly what else was +wanted? And Faith whispered in answer-- + +"'The Dairyman's Daughter?' but you must give it." + +"Can't you get some comfort in reading your Bible, Sally?" said Faith +while Mr. Linden went out to the sleigh with his hammer and nails. + +"Laws!" said Sally--"what's the use! I haint got the heart to take the +trouble to read, half the time." + +"If you read one half the time, and pray too, Sally, you'll soon get +heart for the other half." + +"It's easy talkin'"--was Sally's encouraging view of the case. + +"It's a great deal easier doing," said Faith. "If you try it, Sally, +it'll make you so glad you'll never say you want comfort again." + +"Well you've brought me a heap to-day anyhow," said Sally. "Just look +at that winder! I declare!--I 'spect I'll make out to eat my dinner +to-day without scolding." + +Mr. Linden came back with the tract, but kept it in his hand for a +minute. + +"Do you know, Sally, how a house is built upon the bare ground?" he +said. "The mason lays down one stone, and then another on that; and if +he cannot have his choice of stones he takes just what come to +hand--little and big, putting in plenty of mortar to bind all together. +Now that's the way you must build up a happy year for yourself,--and in +that way every one can." The words were spoken very brightly, without a +touch of faultfinding. + +"Well"--said Sally rocking herself back and forth in the +rocking-chair--"I 'spect you know how."--Which might have been meant as +a compliment, or as an excuse. + +"I think you do," said Mr. Linden smiling; "and I am going to leave you +a true story of how it was really done by somebody else. Will you read +it?" + +"Yes"--said Sally continuing to rock. "I'll do any thing you ask me +to--after that winder. You've given me a good start--anyways. I'd as +lieves hear you talk as most things." + +There was not time for much more talk then, however. Mr. Linden and +Faith went away, leaving the little book on the table. But when Sally +went to take a nearer view of its words of golden example, there lay on +it the first real little gold piece Sally had ever possessed. + +"That was a good beginning," said Faith in a sort of quiet glee, after +she had got into the sleigh again. "I knew, before, we were like a +butcher and baker setting off on their travels; but I had no idea there +was a carpenter stowed away anywhere!" And her laugh broke forth upon +the air of those wild downs, as Jerry turned his head about. + +"I must be something, you know," said Mr. Linden,--"and I don't choose +to be the butcher--and certainly am not the baker." + +They turned into the village again, and then down towards the shore; +getting brilliant glimpses of the Sound now and then, and a pretty keen +breeze. But the sun was strong in its modifying power, and bright and +happy spirits did the rest. One little pause the sleigh made at the +house where Faith had had her decisive interview with Squire Deacon, +but they did not get out there; only gave a selection of comforts into +the hands of one of the household, and jingled on their way shorewards. +Not turning down to the bathing region, but taking a road that ran +parallel with the Sound. + +"Do you remember our first walk down here, Faith?" said Mr. +Linden,--"when you said you had shewed me the shore?" + +"Well I did," said Faith smiling,--"I shewed you what I knew; but you +shewed me what I had never known before." + +"I'm sure you shewed me some things I had never known before," he said +laughing a little. "Do you know where we are going now?"--they had left +the beaten road, and entered a by-way where only footsteps marked the +snow, and no sleigh before their own had broken ground. It seemed to be +a sort of coast-way,--leading right off towards the dashing Sound and +its low points and inlets. The shore was marked with ice as well as +foam; the water looked dark and cold, with the white gulls soaring and +dipping, and the white line of Long Island in the distance. + +"No, I don't know. Where are we going? O how beautiful! O how +beautiful!" Faith exclaimed. "Hasn't every time its own pleasure! Where +are we going, Endecott?" + +"To see one who Dr. Harrison 'fancies' may have 'something in him.' +Whatever made the doctor take such a dislike to Reuben?" + +Faith did not answer, and instead looked forward with a sort of +contemplative gravity upon her brow. Her cheeks were already so +brilliant with riding in the fresh air that a little rise of colour +could hardly have been noticed. + +"Do you know?" + +Faith presently replied that she supposed it was a dislike taken up +without any sort of real ground. + +"Well to tell you the truth, my little Mignonette," said Mr. Linden, +"the doctor's twenty-five dollars gives me some trouble in that +connexion. Reuben will take favours gladly from anybody that likes him, +but towards people who do not (they are very few, indeed) he is as +proud as if he had the Bank of England at his back. _I_ might send him +a dinner every day if I chose; but if Reuben were starving, his +conscience would have a struggle with him before he would take bread +from Dr. Harrison." + +Faith listened very seriously and her conclusion was a very earnest +"Oh, I am sorry!--But then," she went on thoughtfully,--"I don't know +that Dr. Harrison _dislikes_ Reuben.--He don't understand him, how +should he?--and I know they have never seemed to get on well +together.--" + +"I chose to answer for him the other day," said Mr. Linden--"and I +shall not let him refuse; but I have questioned whether I would tell +him anything about the money till he is ready for the books. Then if he +should meet the doctor, and the doctor should ask him!--" + +Faith was silent a bit. + +"But Reuben will do what you tell him," she said. "And besides, Reuben +was doing everything he could for Dr. Harrison the other night--he +can't refuse to let Dr. Harrison do something for him. I don't think he +ought." + +"He had no thought of reward. Still, he would not refuse, if he +supposed any part of the 'doing' was out of care for him,--and you know +I cannot tell him that I think it is. But I shall talk to him about it. +Not to-day: I will not run the risk of spoiling his pleasure at the +sight of us. There--do you see that little beaver-like hut on the next +point?--that is where he lives." + +Faith looked at it with curious interest. That little brown spot amidst +the waste of snow and waters--that was where the fisherman's boy lived; +and there he was preparing himself for college. And for what beside? + +"Will Reuben or his father be hurt at all at anything we have brought +them?" she said then. + +"No, they will take it all simply for what it is,--a New Year's gift. +And Reuben would not dream of being hurt by anything we could do,--he +is as humble as he is proud. We are like enough to find him alone." + +And so they found him. With an absorbed ignoring of sleigh-bells and +curiosity--perhaps because the former rarely came for him,--Reuben had +sat still at his work until his visiters knocked at the low door. But +then he came with a step and face ready to find Mr. Linden--though not +Faith; and his first flush of pleasure deepened with surprise and even +a little embarrassment as he ushered her in. There was no false pride +about it, but "Miss Faith" was looked upon by all the boys as a dainty +thing; and Reuben placed a chair for her by the drift-wood fire, with +as much feeling of the unfitness of surrounding circumstances, as if +she had been the Queen. Something in the hand that was laid on his +shoulder brushed that away; and then Reuben looked and spoke as usual. + +Surrounding circumstances were not so bad, after all. Faith had noticed +how carefully and neatly the snow was cleared from the door and down to +the water's edge, and everything within bore the same tokens. The room +was very tiny, the floor bare--but very clean; the blazing drift-wood +the only adornment. Yet not so: for on an old sea chest which graced +one side of the room, lay Reuben's work which they had interrupted. An +open book, with one or two others beside it; and by them all, with mesh +and netting-kneedle and twine, lay an old net which Reuben had been +repairing. The drift-wood had stone supporters,--the winter wind swept +in a sort of grasping way round the little hut; and the dashing of the +Sound waters, and the sharp war of the floating ice, broke the +stillness. But they were very glad eyes that Reuben lifted to Mr. +Linden's face and a very glad alacrity brought forward a little box for +Faith to rest her feet. + +"Don't you mean to sit down, Mr. Linden?" he said. + +"To be sure I do. But I haven't wished you a happy New Year yet." And +the lips that Reuben most reverenced in the world, left their greeting +on his forehead. It was well the boy found something to do--with the +fire, and Faith's box, and Mr. Linden's chair! But then he stood silent +and quiet as before. + +"Don't _you_ mean to sit down, Reuben?" said Faith. + +Reuben smiled,--not as if he cared about a seat; but he brought forward +another little box, not even the first cousin of Faith's, and sat down +as she desired. + +"Didn't you find it very cold, Miss Faith?" he said, as if he could not +get used to seeing her there. "Are you getting warm now?" + +Faith said she hadn't been cold; and would fast enough have entered +into conversation with Reuben, but she thought he would rather hear +words from other lips, and was sure that other lips could give them +better. + +"And have you got quite well, ma'm?" said Reuben. + +"Don't I look well?" she said smiling at him. "What are you doing over +there, Reuben?--making a net?" + +"O I was mending it, Miss Faith." + +"I can't afford to have you at that work just now," said Mr. +Linden,--"you know we begin school again to-morrow. You must tell your +father from me, Reuben, that he must please to use his new one for the +present, and let you mend up that at your leisure. Will you?" + +Reuben flushed--looking up and then down as he said, "Yes, sir,"--and +then very softly, "O Mr. Linden, you needn't have done that!" + +"Of course I need not--people never need please themselves, I suppose. +But you know, Reuben, there is a great deal of Santa Glaus work going +on at this time of year, and Miss Faith and I have had some of it put +in our hands. I won't answer for what she'll do with you!--but you must +try and bear it manfully." + +Reuben laughed a little--half in sympathy with the bright words and +smile, half as if the spirit of the time had laid hold of him. + +"You know, Mr. Linden," said Faith laughing, but appealingly +too,--"that Reuben will get worse handling from you than he will from +me!--so let him have the worst first." + +"I'll bring in your basket," was all he said,--and the basket came in +accordingly; Reuben feeling too bewildered to even offer his services. + +Faith found herself in a corner. She jumped up and placed herself in +front of the basket so as to hide it. "Wait!"--she said. "Reuben, how +much of a housekeeper are you?" + +"I don't know, Miss Faith,--I don't believe I ever was tried." + +"Do you know how to make mince pies, for instance?" + +But Reuben shook his head, with a low-spoken, "No, Miss Faith,"--a +little as if she were somehow transparent, and he was viewing the +basket behind her. + +"Never mind my questions," said Faith, "but tell me. Could you stuff a +turkey, do you think, if you tried?" + +"I suppose I could--somehow," Reuben said, colouring and laughing. "I +never tried, Miss Faith." + +"Then you couldn't!" said Faith, her laugh rolling round the little +room, as softly as the curls of smoke went up the chimney. "You needn't +think you could! But Reuben, since you can't, don't you think you would +let me do it once for you?" + +Reuben's words were not ready in answer. But a bashful look at Faith's +face--and her hands,--one that reminded her of the clam-roasting,--was +followed by a grateful, low-spoken--"I don't think you ought to do +anything for _me_, Miss Faith." + +"I have had so much pleasure in it, Reuben, you'll have to forgive +me;"--Faith answered, withdrawing from the basket. + +"You must look into that at your leisure, Reuben," Mr. Linden said, as +he watched the play of feeling in the boy's face. "Miss Faith is in no +hurry for her basket." + +Reuben heard him silently, and as silently lifted the basket from where +it stood and set it carefully on the table. But then he came close up +to Faith and stood by her side. "You are _very_ good, Miss Faith!" he +said. "I don't know how to thank you." + +"Reuben!" said Faith colouring--"you mustn't thank me at all. I've just +had the pleasure of doing--but it is Mr. Linden that has brought the +basket here, and me too." + +"And he must take you away," Mr. Linden said. "Reuben, you may thank +Miss Faith just as much as you please. If I had nothing else to do, I +should invite my self here to dinner, but as it is I must be off. Are +you ready?" he said to Faith, while in silence Reuben knelt down to put +on again the moccasins which she had thrown off, and then she followed +Mr. Linden. Reuben followed too,--partly to help their arrangements, +partly at Mr. Linden's bidding to bring back the net. But when there +was added thereto a little package which could only mean books, +Reuben's cup of gravity, at least, was full; and _words_ of good-bye he +had none. + +And for a few minutes after they drove away Faith too was silent with +great pleasure. She hardly knew, though she felt, how bright the sun +was on the snow, and how genial his midday winter beams; and with how +crisp a gleam the light broke on ice points and crests of foam and +glanced from the snow-banks. The riches of many days seemed crowded +into the few hours of that morning. Were they not on a "shining" +expedition! Had they not been leaving sunbeams of gladness in house +after house, that would shine on, nobody knew how long! Faith was too +glad for a little while not to feel very sober; those sunbeams came +from so high a source, and were wrought in with others that so wrapped +her own life about. So she looked at Jerry's ears and said nothing. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said suddenly, "I wish I could tell you what it is +to me to be going these rounds with you!" + +Faith shewed a quick, touched little smile. "I've been thinking just +now,--what it means." + +"I should like to have the explanation of those last three words." + +"What it means?"--and the slight play of her lips did not at all hinder +the deep, deep strength of her thought from being manifest.--"It means, +all you have taught me and led me to!--" + +"You don't intend to lead me to a very clear understanding," he said +playfully, and yet with a tone that half acknowledged her meaning. "Do +you ever remember what you have taught me?--They say one should at the +end of the year, reckon up all the blessings it has brought,--but I +know not where to begin, nor how to recount them. This year!--it has +been like the shield in the old fable,--it seemed to me of iron to look +forward to--so cold and dark,--and it has been all gold!" + +"Did it look so?" she said with quick eyes of sympathy. + +"Yes, little Sunbeam, it looked so; and there were enough earthly +reasons why it should. But unbelief has had a rebuke for once;--if I +know myself, I am ready now to go forward without a question!" + +Over what Hill Difficulty did that future road lie?--He did not +explain, and the next words came with a different tone,--one that +almost put the other out of Faith's head. "My little Sunbeam, do you +keep warm?" + +"Yes"--she said with a somewhat wistful look that came from a sunbeam +determined upon doing its very best of shining, for him. But she was +silent again for a minute. "There are plenty of sunbeams abroad to-day, +Endecott," she said then with rare sweetness of tone, that touched but +did not press upon his tone of a few minutes ago. + +"Dear Faith," he said looking at her, and answering the wistfulness and +the smile and the voice all in one,--"do you know I can never find +words that just suit me for you?--And do you know that I think there +was never such a New Year's day heard of?--it is all sunshine! Just +look how the light is breaking out there upon the ice, and touching the +waves, and shining through that one little cloud,--and guess how I feel +it in my heart. Do you know how much work of this sort, and of every +sort, you and I shall have to do together, little child, if we live?" + +It was a look of beauty that answered,--so full in its happiness, so +blushing and shy; but Faith's words were as simple as they were earnest. + +"I wish it. There can't be too much." + +Their course now became rather irregular; crossing about from one spot +to another, and through a part of the country where Faith had never +been. Here was a sort of shore population,--people living upon rocks +and sand rent free, or almost that; and supporting themselves otherwise +as best they might. A scattered, loose-built hamlet, perching along the +icy shore, and with its wild winds to rock the children to sleep, and +the music of the waves for a lullaby. But the children throve with such +nursing, if one might judge by the numbers that tumbled in the snow and +clustered on the doorsteps; and the amusement they afforded Faith was +not small. The houses were too many here to have time for a _visit_ to +each,--a pause at the door, and the leaving of some little token of +kindness, was all that could be attempted; and the tokens were various. +Faith's loaves of bread, and her pieces of meat, or papers from the +stock of tea and sugar with which she had been furnished, or a bowl of +broth jelly for some sick person,--a pair of woollen stockings, +perhaps, or a flannel jacket, for some rheumatic old man or woman,--or +a bible,--or a combination of different things where the need demanded. +But Faith's special fun was with the children. + +When they first entered the hamlet, Mr. Linden brought forward and set +at her feet one basket of trifling juvenile treasures, and another +filled more substantially with apples and cakes and sugarplums; and +then as all the children were out of doors, he drove slowly and let her +delight as many of them as she chose. What pleasure it was!--those +little cold hands, so unwonted to cakes and that could hardly hold +apples,--how eagerly, how shyly, they were stretched out!--with what +flourishes of bare feet or old shoes the young ones scampered away, or +stood gazing after Jerry's little dust-cloud of snow;--ever after to +remember and tell of this day, as one wherein a beautiful lady dressed +up like a pussy cat, gave them an apple, or a stick of candy, or a +picture book! Faith was in a debate between smiles and tears by the +time they were through the hamlet and dashing out again on the open +snow, for Mr. Linden had left all that part of the business to her; +though the children all seemed to know him--and he them--by heart. + +And good note Faith took of that, and laid up the lesson. She had been +a very good Santa Claus the while, and had acted the part of a sunbeam +indifferent well; being just about so bright and so soft in all her +dealings with those same little cold hands and quick spirits; giving +them their apples and candy with a good envelope of gentle words and +laughter. Seeing that she had it to do, she went into the game +thoroughly. But once she made a private protest. + +"Do you know, Endecott, these things would taste a great deal sweeter +if your hand gave them?" + +"I know nothing of the sort! Sweeter?--look at that urchin deep in +peppermint candy,--could anything enhance the spice or the sweetness of +that?" + +"Yes," said Faith shaking her head--"and look at that little girl +before him, who took the apple and looked at you all the while!" + +"She has an eye for contrast," he said laughing, "and is probably +wondering why all people can't look alike!" + +Faith did not secretly blame her, but she left that subject. + +It was to the furthest point of their round that they went +now,--another fisherman's house--far, far off, on the shore. A little +larger than Reuben's, but not so neatly kept; as indeed how could it +be? with so many children,--or how could the house hold them, in those +times of weather when they condescended to stay in! They were in pretty +good order, to do their mother justice, and she in great delight at the +sight of her visiters. There was no room for silence here--or at least +no silence in the room, for Mrs. Ling was never at a loss for words. +And there was no need of much circumlocution in presenting the +turkey,--nothing but pleasure could come of it, let it enter on which +foot it would; and the train of potatoes, and tea, and bread, and other +things, fairly made Mrs. Ling's eyes shine,--though she talked away as +fast as ever. The children were in spirits too great to be got rid of +in any ordinary way, especially the youngest walking Ling; whose turn +having not yet come for a pair of shoes from his father's pocket, was +now to be fitted out of Mr. Linden's sleigh. And the shoes did fit--and +little Japhet marked his sense of the obligation by at once requesting +Faith to tie them. Which Faith did in a state of delight too great for +words. + +"Now what do you feel like?" she said, when Japhet was fairly shod and +she still stooping at his feet. + +"I feel like a king!" said Japhet promptly,--which had been the height +of his unrepublican ambition for some time. + +"Dear sakes!" said his mother, who had heard the child's request too +late to interfere,--"I hope you'll not mind him, ma'am,--he oughter +know better, but he don't. And poor things, when they gets pleased--it +aint often, you see, ma'am, so I can't be hard upon 'em. Do you feel +warm?--we do make out to keep warm, most times." + +"I am quite warm, thank you; but I should think you'd feel the wind +down here. Japhet,"--said Faith, who had brought in her basket of +varieties and whose quiet eyes were fairly in a dance with fun and +delight,--"which do you think kings like best--cookies or candy?" + +To which Japhet with equal promptness replied, + +"Candy--and cookies." + +"Don't!"--his mother said again,--but the basket of varieties looked +almost as wonderful to her eyes as to those of the children, who now +gathered round as near as they dare come, while Mrs. Ling cautiously +peeped over their heads. + +"I see you feel like a king!" said Faith filling both Japhet's +hands.--"There! now I hope you don't feel like Alexander." + +"Alexander haint got nothin'!" said Japhet, looking towards his eldest +brother. + +Which did not overset Faith's gravity, because by this time she had +none to speak of. Alexander's delight was found to be in red apples, +and he thought a little common top a treasure such as neither Diogenes +nor the real Alexander knew of between them! One little girl was made +happy with a wonderful picture-book in which there were a dog, a cat, +and a lion with a great mane just ready to eat a man up, with the +stories thereto pertaining; and a neat little slate seemed a most +desirable acquisition to the bright eyes of an older girl. They were +all more satisfied than the conqueror of the world by the time Faith +rose from the basket; and then she offered her tribute of gingerbread +to Mrs. Ling. The little girl with the slate, once released from the +spell of the basket, went up to Mr. Linden (who had stood looking on) +and said,--"She's awake now, if you please, sir,"--and he turned and +went into the next room, leaving Mrs. Ling to entertain Faith as best +she might. For which Mrs. Ling was most ready. + +"Ma always does want to see him"--she said. "You see, ma'am, she can't +never get up now, so it's a play to hear somebody talk. And ma likes +him special. Mr. Somers he's been kind too--and Mrs.--he come down when +ma was first took, and since; but someways she don't just see into him +much. I don' know but it's along of his bein' better than other +folks--but after all, a person wants to have even good things talked to +'em so's they can understand. Now Mr. Linden,--my Mary there 'll listen +to him for an hour, and never lose a word." And Mary's bright little +eyes answered that readily, while Mrs. Ling's went back to the basket. + +"I can't believe!" she said. "You don't know what you've done, ma'am! +Why there aint one o' them children as ever see a real live turkey +cooked, in their existence." + +"You don't know what pleasure I had in doing it for them, Mrs. Ling. +Mr. Linden told me there was a houseful of children." + +"Well so there is!" said Mrs. Ling looking round the room,--"and it's +no wonder he thinks so, for they tease him most out of his life +sometimes when he's here,--or would if he wam't as good-natured as the +day's long. But there aint one too many, after all said and done, for +I've got nothing else,--so if it warn't for them I should be poorly +off." With which reverse statement of the case, Mrs. Ling complacently +smoothed down four or five heads, and tied as many aprons. + +"Ma," said little Mary, "will Mr. Linden sing for us to-day?" + +"I dare say--if you ask him pretty," said her mother. "No, I guess he's +busy and won't be bothered." + +"He never _is_ bothered," said Mary persistently, while two or three of +the others recovering from their apples and shyness, ventured up to +Faith again and began to stroke her furs. + +"What does he sing for you, Jenny?" said Faith, taking the little +picture-book girl on her lap, and glad to put her own face down in a +somewhat sheltered position. + +"O he sings hymns--" said Jenny, gazing abstractedly at the lion and +the cat by turns,--"and other things too, sometimes." + +"Hymns are very interesting. And beautiful--don't you think so?" said +Mary drawing nearer. + +"Yes, indeed I do," said Faith stretching out her hand and pulling the +little girl up to her. "What ones do you like best, Mary?" + +But Mary's answer stayed, for Mr. Linden came back at that moment, and +skilfully making his way up to Faith without running over any of the +little throng, he told her he was ready. And Faith, though secretly +wishing for the song as much as any of the children, set Jenny on the +floor and rose up; while Mr. Linden laughingly shewed her "an excellent +way of investing ten cents," by giving the children each one. Meanwhile +Mrs. Ling had been emptying the basket. There was the cold turkey in +the full splendour of its rich brown coat--a good large turkey too; but +lest there should not be enough of it to go round to so many mouths, +Mrs. Derrick and Faith had added a nice piece, ready boiled, of salt +pork. Then there were potatoes, and some of Faith's bread,--and a paper +of tea and another of sugar; and there was arrowroot, made and unmade, +for the sick woman, with some broth jelly. It was one of those houses +where a good deal was wanted, and the supply had been generous in +proportion. Mrs. Ling was at her wits' end to dispose of it all; and +the children watched her in a gale of excitement, till the last thing +was carried off, and Mrs. Ling began to shake out the napkins and fold +them up. But then they came round Mr. Linden with their petition, +urging it with such humble pertinacity, that he was fain at last to +comply. It was only a child's Christmas hymn, set to a simple, bright, +quick tune, which at first kept some of the smallest feet in a greater +state of unrest than the older children thought at all respectful. + + "O little children, sing! + Jesus, your Lord and King + For you a child became: + On that bright Christmas day + He in a manger lay, + Who hath the one Almighty name! + + "Come children, love him now, + Before the Saviour bow, + Give him each little heart. + His spotless nature see,-- + Then like him spotless be, + And choose his service for your part. + + "The joy of loving him + Shall never fade nor dim,-- + While worldly joys fly fast:-- + Jesus to see and love, + First here and then above, + Such joy shall ever, ever last. + + "I'll give myself away + On this new Christmas day,-- + He gave his life for me! + Jesus, my heart is thine, + O make it humbly shine + With ever-living love to thee! + + "O Jesus, our Great Friend, + Our Saviour, without end + Thy praises we will bring! + Glory to God's high throne! + Peace now on earth is known, + And we for joy may ever sing!" + + +"There"--Mr. Linden said, breaking the hush into which the children had +subsided, and gently disengaging himself from them,--"now I have given +you something to think of, and you must do it, and let me go." And he +and Faith were presently on their way; Faith feeling that she had +"something to think of" too. + +The sun was westing fast as they turned, but now their way lay towards +home, via sundry other places. The long sunbeams were passing lovely as +they lay upon the snow, and the fantastic shadows of Jerry and the +sleigh and all it held, were in odd harmony and contrast. The +poverty-stricken house to which the two had walked that memorable +night, had been already visited and passed, and several others with +sick or poor inhabitants. Then Mr. Linden turned off down one of the +scarce broken by-roads, and stopped before a little lonely brown house +with an old buttonwood tree in front. + +"There is a blanket to go in here, Faith," he said as he took her out, +"and also my hammer!--for there is always something to do." + +"Always something to do at this house?" + +"Yes," he answered laughingly,--"so you must hold in check your +aversion to carpenters." + +"If you'll please have a charity for the butcher and baker, and tell me +what I shall take in here? for my part." + +"O we'll go in and find out,--these good people are never just suited +unless they have the ordering of everything. They'll tell us what they +want fast enough, but if we guessed at it beforehand, they would maybe +find out that those were just the things they did _not_ want. Only my +hammer--I'm sure of that." + +The "good people" in question, were an old man and his wife, living in +one little room and with very little furniture. Very deaf the old man +was, and both of them dimsighted, so that the old bible on the shelf +was only a thing to look at,--if indeed it had ever been anything more, +which some people doubted. This was one of the first things Mr. Linden +took hold of after the kind greetings were passed, and he gave it to +Faith; telling her that old Mr. Roscom always expected his visitors to +read to him, and that if she would do that, he would mend Mrs. Roscom's +spinning-wheel--which he saw was ready for him. + +Faith threw back her hood and her furs, and took a seat close by the +old man; and the first thing he heard was her sweet voice asking him +where she should read, or if he liked to hear any part in particular. + +"No," he said, "he liked to have it surprise him." + +Faith pondered how she should best surprise him, but she had not much +time to spare and no chance to ask counsel. So she read as her heart +prompted her,--first the fifth chapter of II. Corinthians--with its +joyful Christian profession and invitation to others; then she read the +account of Jesus' healing the impotent man and bidding him "sin no +more"; and then she turned over to the Psalms and gave Mr. Roscom the +beautiful 103d psalm of thanksgiving,--which after those other two +passages seemed particularly beautiful. This was work that Faith loved, +and she read so. + +How softly the hammer worked while she read, she might have noticed if +her mind had not been full; but though she had no word from that +quarter, Mr. Roscom's opinion was clear. + +"That's good," he said,--"and strong;--and I'm obleeged to ye." + +And then, the wheel being near done, there was a little skilful talk +gone into; in the course of which Faith and Mr. Linden learned, that +the old couple were "real tired of salt meat, some days"--and that rye +bread "warnt thought wholesome by itself"--and that "if their tea +should give out they didn't know what they _should_ do!"--and that +"times when the old man was a little poorly, nothing on airth would +serve him but a roasted potato!" All of which was said just for the +pleasure of talking to sympathizing faces,--without the least idea of +what was at the door. The blanket was too old a want to be spoken of, +but Faith needed only to look at the bed. And then she looked at Mr. +Linden, in delighted watch to see what his next move would be; in the +intervals of her chat with Mr. Roscom, which was very lively. + +Mr. Linden had finished his work, and stood balancing his hammer and +listening to the catalogue of wants with a smile both grave and bright. + +"Are these just the things you wish for?" he said. "Well--'your Father +knoweth that ye have need of them,'--and he has sent them by our hands +to-day; so you see that you may trust him for the future." + +He laid his hand on Faith's shoulder as an invitation to her to follow, +and went out to the sleigh. She was at the side of it as soon as he, +and in it the next minute, stopping to give him only with the eye one +warm speech of sympathy and joy. + +"You haven't put up a basket specially for these people, of course," +she said,--"so we shall have to take the things from everywhere. +There's a beautiful chicken in that basket, Endecott--I know; that's +the largest one we have left; and bread--there aren't but two loaves +here!--shall we give them both? Or do we want one somewhere else?" + +"I think we may give them both. And Faith--don't you think a roasted +apple might alternate usefully with the potato?" + +Faith dived into the receptacle for apples and brought out a good +quantity of the right kind. Potatoes were not in very large supply, but +tea and sugar were--blessed things!--unfailing. + +"And here is a pumpkin pie!" said Faith--"I am sure they'll like +that--and as many cookies and cruller as you like. And what else, +Endecott?--O here's a pair of those big socks mother knit--wouldn't +they be good here?" + +"Very good, dear child!--and this blanket must go--and some +tracts,--that will furnish more reading. You run in with those, +Faith--these other things are too heavy for you." + +"I've strength enough to carry a blanket," said Faith laughing. + +"Well, run off with that too, then," said Mr. Linden, "only if your +strength gives out by the way, please to fall on the blanket." + +Faith managed to reach the house safely and with a bright face +deposited the blanket on a chair. "I got leave to bring this in to you, +Mrs. Roscom," she said. "I suppose you know what Mr. Linden means you +to do with it." + +Perhaps they had seen no two people in the course of the day more +thoroughly pleased than these two. The sources of pleasure were not +many in that house, and the expectation of pleasure not strong; and the +need of comforts had not died out with the supply; and old and alone as +they were, the looking forward to possible cold and hunger was a trial. +It was easy to see how that blanket warmed the room and promised a mild +winter, and how the socks be came liniment,--and it seemed doubtful +whether the old man would ever be sick enough for roast potatoes, with +the potatoes really in the house. So with other things,--they took a +childish pleasure even in the cakes and pie, and an order for wood was +a real relief. And what a dinner they were already eating in +imagination! + +Mr. Linden had put Faith in the sleigh, with the last sunset rays +playing about her; and he stood wrapping her up in all sorts of ways, +and the old man and the old woman stood in the door to see. Then in a +voice which he supposed to be a whisper, Mr. Roscom said,-- + +"Be she his wife?" + +"He didn't say--and I don' know _what_ he said," screamed Mrs. Roscom. + +"Wal--she's handsome enough for it--and so's he," said the old man +contemplatively. "I hope he'll get one as good!" + +Very merrily Mr. Linden laughed as they drove away. + +"I hope I shall!" he said. "Faith, what do you think of that? And which +of us has the compliment?" + +But Faith was engaged in pulling her furs and buffalo robes round her, +and did not appear to consider compliments even a matter of moonshine; +much less of sunshine. Her first words were to remark upon the +exceeding beauty of the last touch the sunlight was giving to certain +snowy heights and white cumuli floating above them; a touch so fair and +calm as if heaven were setting its own seal on this bright day. + +"Is your heart in the clouds?" Mr. Linden said, bending down to look at +her with his laughing eyes. "How can you abstract your thoughts so +suddenly from all sublunary affairs! Do you want any more wrapping up?" + +A little flashing glance of most naive appeal, and Faith's eyes went +down absolutely. + +"You may as well laugh!" he said. "One cannot get through the world +without occasionally hearing frightful suggestions." + +Faith did laugh, and gave him another _good_ little look, about which +the only remarkable thing was that it was afraid to stay. + +"What were your cloudy remarks just now?" said Mr. Linden. + +"I wanted you to look at the beautiful light on them and those far-off +ridges of hill--it is not gone yet." + +"Yes, they are very beautiful. But I believe I am not in a meditative +mood to-day,--or else the rival colours distract me. Faith, I mean to +put you in the witness-box again." + +"In the witness-box?"--she said with a mental jump to Neanticut, and a +look to suit. + +"Yes--but we are not on the banks of Kildeer river, and need not be +afraid," he said with a smile. "Faith--what ever made you take such an +aversion to Phil Davids?" + +"I don't dislike him,"--she said softly. + +"I did not mean to doubt your forgiving disposition! But what did he do +to displease you?" + +Did Mr. Linden know? or did he _not_ know! Faith looked up to see. He +was just disentangling one of the lines from Jerry's tail, but met her +look with great composure. + +"It's an old thing,"--said Faith. "It's not worth bringing up." + +"But since I have brought it--won't you indulge me?" + +The red on Faith's cheeks grew brilliant. "It isn't anything you would +like,--if I told it to you.--Won't you let me let it alone?" + +"I should like to hear you tell it." + +"He made one or two rude speeches"--said Faith in very great doubt and +confusion;--"that was all." + +"_That_ I knew before." + +"Did you?" said Faith looking at him. "How did you know it, Endecott?" + +There was a curious gentle, almost tender, modulation of tone in this +last sentence, which covered a good deal of possible ground. Mr. Linden +drew up one of her mufflers which had fallen off a little, giving her +as he did so a silent though laughing answer, as comprehensive as her +question. + +"You are just the dearest and most precious little child in the whole +world!" he said. "But why are you afraid to tell me _now?_--and why did +Phil's insinuation cause you such dismay?" + +Faith's confusion would have been, as her rosy flush was, extreme,--if +something in Mr. Linden's manner had not met that and rebuked it, +healing the wound almost before it was made. Between the two Faith +struggled for a standing-ground of equanimity,--but words, though she +struggled for them too, in her reason or imagination she could not find. + +"I want an answer to one of these questions,"--Mr. Linden said, in a +playful sort of tone. "Dr. Harrison used to ask me if you lived upon +roses--but do you think I can?" + +Faith made an effort. "What do you want me to say?" + +"What was it in Phil's words that troubled you so much?" + +The crimson rush came back overwhelmingly. "Oh Endy--please don't ask +me!" + +"Not quite fair,"--he said smiling. "I'm sure I am willing to tell +_you_ anything. Though indeed I do not suppose you need much telling. +But Faith--is _that_ the system of tactics by which you intend always +to have your own way? I shall have to be philosophical to any point!" + +"That speech is so very zigzag," said Faith, "that I cannot follow it. +How are you going to be philosophical, Mr. Linden?" + +"Not by forgetting to exact your forfeit, Miss Derrick." + +"That isn't fair," said Faith laughing. "I didn't for get!--I shouldn't +think you had gone all day without eating anything!--and yet you must +be starving." + +"For what? little provider." + +"For something to eat, I should think." + +"Does that mean that you are suffering?--because if that be the case, I +will refresh you (cautiously) with sugar-plums! A very superfluous +thing, to be sure, but the most suitable I can think of." + +Faith's laugh came clear now. "No indeed. Suffering! I never eat so +many dinners in one day in my life. But I am hungry though, I believe. +How many more places are we going to? I don't care how many," she said +earnestly. "I like to be hungry." + +"Well, keep up your spirits,--the next turn will bring us out of the +woods, and a three-minute stay at one or two doors will end our work +for this time. Meanwhile, do you want to hear a little bit of good +poetry--on an entirely new subject?" + +"Oh yes! if you please." + +Demurely enough it was given.-- + + "'Her true beauty leaves behind + Apprehensions in my mind + Of more sweetness, than all art + Or inventions can impart. + Thoughts too deep to be expressed, + And too strong to be repressed.'" + + +She gave him a wistful look as he finished the lines; and then sat +among her furs, as quiet again as a mouse. + +"Do you like them, Mignonette?" + +"Yes--very much." + +"Would you like to tell me then why the hearing of them makes you +sober?" + +"Yes--if you wish"; she said gently. "I know--a little--I +believe,--what you think of me; but what I seem to your eyes on the +outside--and much more!--I want to be really, really--in the sight of +the eye that tries the heart--and I am not now, Endy." + +"My dear child--" he said,--and was silent a minute, speeding smoothly +along through the starlight; then went on. + +"Yes, dear Faith,--that is what I wish for you--and for myself. That is +where we will most earnestly try to help each other." And presently, as +eye and thoughts were caught and held by the wonderful constellation +above in the clear sky, yet not drawn away from what they had been +talking of, Mr. Linden said,-- + +"'Seek him that maketh the seven stars and Orion,--that bringeth the +shadow of death upon the day, and turneth the night into morning!'" And +so, in the thought of that, they went home; Orion looking down upon +them, and they leaving bits of brightness by the way at the two or +three houses which yet remained. The box sleigh got home at last +emptied of all its load but the two travellers. + +Mrs. Derrick and supper were ready for them, and had been a good while; +and by this time Mr. Linden and Faith were ready for supper. And much +as Mrs. Derrick had to hear, she had something to tell. How Judge +Harrison had come to make a visit and say good-bye, and how he had put +in her hands another twenty-five dollars to be added to those his son +had already bestowed on Reuben. Squire Stoutenburgh too had been there; +but his errand was to declare that Jerry could never be received again +into his service, but must henceforth remain in Mrs. Derrick's stable +and possession. Altogether, the day even at home had been an exciting +one. + +A little time after supper Faith went into the sitting-room. Mr. Linden +was there alone. Faith came up to the back of his chair, laid a hand on +his shoulder, and bent her head into speaking neighbourhood. It may be +remarked, that though Faith no longer said "Mr. Linden," yet that one +other word of his name was _never_ spoken just like her other words. +There was always a little lowering or alteration of tone, a slight +pause before--or after it, which set and marked it as bordered round +with all the regards which by any phrase could be made known. + +"Endecott"--she said very softly,--"do you know what you have been +doing to-day?" + +"Comprehensively speaking--I have been enjoying myself," he said with a +bright smile at her. + +"You have been giving me a lesson all the while, that I felt through +and through." + +"Through and through?" he repeated. "Come round here, little bird--you +need not perch on the back of my chair. What are you singing about?" + +"Of what you have taught me to-day." + +"I must have fallen into a very unconscious habit of lesson-giving. +What have I taught you?--suppose you teach me." + +"How one should 'hold forth the word of life.'" + +"Ah little bird!"--he said, with a look at her which said his day's +lesson had been the same, yet on different grounds. "Well--if you can +learn anything from so imperfect a teacher, I am glad. But do not rest +there,--take up the olive leaf and bear it on!" + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + + +Mrs Derrick went to Pequot the next day, and found Miss Danforth as +Faith had left her; or rather, somewhat more failing in everything but +mind-strength. Mrs. Derrick was greatly welcomed by both ladies; but +she had not been there three hours when Miss Dilly spoke out what was +on her heart. + +"Isn't Faith coming back to me again?" + +For Faith's sake her mother hesitated, and yet it was for Faith's sake +that she answered,--"Yes, if you want her." + +"It won't be for long I shall want her,"--said Miss Dilly with a +quietness very unlike her old self:--"but I would like to have her dear +face and music about me once more--if she can let me." + +Mrs. Derrick came back with Mr. Stoutenburgh to Pattaquasset that same +evening; and Faith put up her books and made immediate preparations for +going to Pequot in her stead. + +"I must let you go, child," said her mother,--"I couldn't refuse." + +"And I am so glad to-morrow is Wednesday, for I can take you over," +said Mr. Linden. + +Wednesday afternoon was very fair, and after dinner Faith and all her +needful baggage were bestowed in the little sleigh, and the journey +began. Not very much of a journey indeed, unless compared with the +length of day-light; but as fair and bright and pleasant as a journey +could be. Full of talk of all sorts,--gliding on through the fading day +and the falling night, until + + ----"the floor of heaven + Was thick inlaid with patines of bright gold." + + +Very bright the stars were, very dark the sky, when Jerry's bells began +to mingle with a crowd of others in the streets of Pequot. Faith had +insisted that Mr. Linden should come in and have a cup of tea or coffee +before he went back again; and this being a not unreasonable request, +besides a pleasant one, she had her way. + +Miss Danforth was in her room and could not see Mr. Linden. Faith with +a kiss and a word established the little Frenchwoman to talk to him, +obtaining leave to do what she pleased; though Madame Danforth managed +to have her share in the hospitality; got out cups and saucers for +Faith and Mr. Linden both on a little table by the fire,--her rolls and +her butter; talking all the while to him; and took a minute to run down +into the kitchen and see that Faith and the coffee-pot were getting on +properly. And it may be said in passing that the result did credit to +both. The coffee served to Mr. Linden was faultless. Madame Danforth +however had hardly presented him his cup, when she was called off and +her guests were left alone. + +"Faith," said Mr. Linden, "you must not forget that you have something +to do for me as well as for other people while you are here." + +"I don't forget it. But what do you mean, Endecott?" + +"To put it in the most effective way--I mean that you must take care of +me!" he said smiling. + +"I will. As good care as you would take of yourself." + +"That is a little ambiguous! But will you send me word very often of +your success?" + +Faith looked up and looked at him, a little startled. + +"Do you mean--" + +"I mean that there is a postoffice in Pattaquasset--and another in +Pequot." + +She coloured, and somewhat hastily busied herself with refilling Mr. +Linden's cup. Then she folded her hands and sat looking into the fire +with a face on which there was a touching expression of humbleness. + +"My little Mignonette," he said, "what are you thinking of?" + +"I am thinking of that,"--she said with a smile which did not change +the expression. "Of what you want me to do--and about it." + +"What about it? Are you inditing a letter to me on the spot?" + +"No." + +"What then?" + +Faith would have liked to have her face out of sight, but she couldn't, +conveniently. + +"I am thinking, how I shall do it--and how you will not like it." + +"_You_ don't know"--said Mr. Linden. "Let me tell you how I shall like +it. I shall read it, and love it, and answer it--will that satisfy you? +or do you want me to hang it round my neck by a blue ribband?--because +if you do, I will." + +The laughing flash of Faith's eye contained nevertheless a protest. + +"No, you will not like it, because it will not be fit for you to like; +but you will have patience with it,"--she said with a smile which did +in its loveliness bid good-bye to shadows. + +Mr. Linden left the table, and standing before her as she had risen +too, took her face softly in both hands and raised it up for his +inspection. + +"Do you know what a naughty child you are?" + +A most quaint little "yes." + +"Then why don't you behave better?" he said, enforcing his question but +not releasing her. + +"I suppose you will teach me, in time"--she said, blushing and +sparkling under his hands. He seemed to like to study her face--or was +thinking that he should not see it again for some time,--the expression +on his own belonged to more than one thing. + +"You must not make me wait for that letter, Faith," he said--"and I +must not let you keep me any longer here! But if you want anything, of +any sort, you must send to me." + +"Yes!--to you or to mother." + +"To me--if it is anything I can do," he said as he bade her good-bye. +"And take care of yourself, dear child, for me." And releasing her at +last, none too willingly, Mr. Linden went out alone into the starlight. +He did not see--nor guess--how Faith stood before the fire where he had +left her, looking down into it,--motionless and grave until Madame +Danforth came back. Then all that part of her life was shut up within +her, and Faith was again to other eyes what she had been before at +Pequot. Yet not so entirely the same, nor was all that part of her life +so entirely shut up to herself, that both her aunt and Madame Danforth +did not have a thought and exchange a word on the subject. + +"The sun has found the blossom!" said the little Frenchwoman knowingly +one day; "they do not open so without that!" + +"Nonsense!" said Miss Danforth. "I will ask her." But she never did. + +And for a little while again Faith filled her old office. Miss Dilly +had no troubles or darkness to clear away now; the Bible was plain +sailing to her; but she could never spread her sails too soon or too +full for that navigation. Early and late, as before, Faith read to her, +with a joy and gladness all brightened from the contrast of that Sunday +night's reading, and coming with a fuller spring since that one little +word of her mother the same night. Indeed the last few days had seemed +to make the Bible even greatly more precious to Faith than ever before. +She clung more fast, she searched more eagerly, among its treasures of +riches, to its pillars of strength; valuing them all, as it seemed to +her, with a new value, with a fresh knowledge of what might be found +and won there for others and herself. So with the very eagerness of +love Faith read the Bible to Miss Dilly; and so as she had done before, +many a time, early and late, in childlike simpleness prayed at her +bedside and by her chair. And as before when she was at Pequot she won +Madame Danforth's heart, she intrenched herself there now. She was all +over the house, carrying a sunbeam with her; but Faith never thought it +was her own. She was a most efficient maid of all work, for nursing and +too much care had worn poor Madame Danforth not a little. Faith was +upper servant and cook by turns; and sometimes went to market; made +every meal pleasant with her gentle happy ways; and comforted the two +old ladies to the very top of comfort. + +Whether she wanted to be at home or not, Faith did not stop to ask +herself. But those letters--those letters--they were written, and they +were carried to the postoffice--and others were found at the postoffice +in reply to them. And what had been such trial in the proposition, +became, even in the first instance, the joy of Faith's life. She wrote +hers how she could; generally at night, when she could be quite +uninterrupted and alone. It was often very late at night, but it was +always a time of rare pleasure and liberty of heart; for if the body +were tired, the spirit was free. And Faith's was particularly free, for +the manacles and fetters of pride which weigh so bitter heavy on many a +mind and life, her gentle and true spirit had let fall. She +knew--nobody better--that her letters were not like those letters of +Mr. Linden's sister, Pet:--those exquisite letters, where every grace +and every talent of a finely gifted and fully cultivated mind seemed +playing together with all the rich stores of the past and realities of +the present. She knew, that in very style and formalities of execution, +her own letters were imperfect and unformed. But she was equally sure +that in time what was wrong in this kind would be made right; and she +was not afraid to be found wrong, at all, for her own sake. It was +because of somebody else, that she had flinched from this writing +proposal; because she felt that what was wrong in _her_ touched him +now. But there again, Faith wrote, trusting with an absolute trust in +the heart and hand to which she sent her letters; willing to be found +wrong if need be; sure to be set right truly and gently. And so, Faith +wrote her own heart and life out, from day to day, giving Mr. Linden +precisely what he wanted, and with a child's fearlessness. It was a +great thing to go to the postoffice those days! Faith left it to nobody +else to do for her. And how strange--how weird, almost, the signature +of those letters and her own name on the outside looked to her, in the +same free, graceful handwriting which she had read on that little card +so long ago! And the letters themselves?--enough to say, that they made +Faith think of the way she had been sheltered from the wind, and +carried upstairs when her strength failed, and read to and talked to +and instructed,--that they made her long to be home and yet content to +be there; giving her all sorts of details, of things in Pattaquasset +and things elsewhere--just as the writer would have talked them to her; +with sometimes a word of counsel, or of caution, or of suggestion,--or +some old German hymn which she might find of use in her ministrations, +written out in full. It may be mentioned in passing, that the fair +little face he had been looking at, or her evident fear of writing to +him, made Mr. Linden write to her that very night; a little sugarplum +of a letter, which Faith had for her dinner next day. + +And Faith read these letters at all sorts of times, and thought of them +at other times; and made them next to her Bible--as she should. + + + +CHAPTER X. + + + +Two weeks passed quietly, without much apparent change in Miss +Danforth; and Faith was beginning to think of appointing a time to go +home. But the necessity for that was suddenly superseded. The Friday +following, Miss Dilly took a change for the worse, and Saturday she +died. Faith sent off tidings immediately to Pattaquasset; but her +letter could not reach there till Monday; and Monday came a very great +fall of snow which made travelling impossible. Faith waited patiently, +comforting Madame Danforth as she might, and endeavouring to win her to +some notion of that joy in the things of the Bible in which Miss Dilly +had lived and died. For no change had come over Miss Dilly's sky; and +she had set sail from the shores of earth in the very sunlight. + +It fell out, that Faith's letter of Saturday afternoon had been five +minutes too late for the mail; and after lying in the office at Pequot +over Sunday, had been again subjected to the delays of Monday's storm, +which in its wild fury put a stop to everything else; and thus, when +Mr. Linden went to the office Tuesday morning before school time, the +mail had not yet got in. Not long after, however, Mr. Skip brought home +the letters; and Mrs. Derrick reading hers, at once took Mr. Skip and +Jerry and set off for Pequot; minding neither snowdrifts nor driving +wind, when the road to Faith lay through them, and arriving there quite +safe about the hour of midday. + +The delayed funeral took place the same afternoon. And the next +morning, in a brilliant cold day, snow all over the ground and the sky +all blue, the mother and daughter set forth homewards. Madame Danforth +was going to take another relation in, and live on still in the little +house where she and her sister-in-law had made a happy home for so many +years. Miss Danforth had left a few hundreds, three or four, to Faith. +It was all she had owned in the world; her principal living having been +an annuity settled upon her by her brother, which reverted to Madame +Danforth. + +It was about mid-afternoon when they reached home, and of course the +house held no one but Cindy; except indeed that sort of invisible +presence which books and other inanimate things make known; and Cindy +had to tell of two or three visiters, but otherwise nothing. Very fair +it all looked to Faith,--very sweet to her ear was the sound of the +village clock, although as yet it was only striking three. She did not +say much about the matter. A gleeful announcement that she was glad to +be at home, she made to Mrs. Derrick; but after that she expressed +herself in action. One of her first moves was to the kitchen, +determined that there should be a double consciousness of her being at +home when supper-time came. Then books were got out, and fires put in +wonderful order. Mr. Linden might guess, from the state in which he +found his room, that it had come under its old rule. No such fire had +greeted him there for weeks; no such brushed-up clean hearth; no such +delicate arrangement of table and chairs and curtains and couch. But +the fire burned quietly and told no tales, otherwise than by its very +orderly snapping and sparkling. + +And indeed it so happened, that Mr. Linden went first into the +sitting-room,--partly to see if any one was there, partly because the +day was cold, and under Cindy's management there was small reason to +suppose that his room was warm. And once there, the easy-chair reminded +him so strongly that he was tired, that he even sat down in it before +going upstairs,--which combination a long walk through the snowdrifts +since school, made very acceptable. Five minutes after, Faith having +got rid of her kitchen apron, opened softly the door of the +sitting-room. She stopped an instant, and then came forward, her +gladness not at all veiled by a very rosy veil of shy modesty. There +was no stay in his step to meet her,--he had sprung up with the first +sound of her foot on the threshold; and how much she had been missed +and longed for Faith might guess, from the glad silence in which she +was held fast and for a minute not allowed to speak herself. So very +glad!--she could see it and feel it exceedingly as he brought her +forward to the fire, and lifted up her face, and looked at it with eyes +that were not easily satisfied. + +"My little Sunbeam," he said, "how lovely you are!" + +She had been laughing and flushing with a joy almost as frankly shewn +as his own; but that brought a change over her face. The eyes fell, and +the line of the lips was unbent after a different fashion. + +"I don't know what it is like to see you again," Mr. Linden said as his +own touched them once more,--"like any amount of balm and rest and +refreshment! How long have you been here, dear child? and how do you +do?--and have you any idea how glad I am to have you home?" + +She answered partly in dumb show, clasping one hand upon his shoulder +and laying down her head upon it. Her words were very quiet and +low-spoken. + +"We came home a while ago--and I am very well." Mr. Linden rested his +face lightly upon her shining hair, and was silent--till Faith +wondered; little guessing what thoughts the absence and the meeting and +above all her mute expression, had stirred; nor what bitterness was +wrapped in those sweet minutes. But he put it aside, and then took the +sweetness pure and unmixed; giving her about as much sunshine as he +said she gave him. + +"How do you like writing to me, Faith?" he said. "Am I, on the whole, +any more terrific at a distance than near by?" + +"I didn't know you could be so good at a distance,"--she said +expressively. + +"Did you find out what reception your letters met?" + +"I didn't want to find out." + +"Do you call that an answer?" he said smiling. "Why didn't you want to +find out?--and _did_ you?" + +"Why!"--said Faith,--"I didn't want to find out because it wasn't +necessary. I _did_ find out that I liked to write. But you wouldn't +have liked it if you had known what time of night it was, often." + +"What do you think of taking up a new study?" said Mr. Linden. "It +strikes me that it would do you good to stand in the witness-box half +an hour every day,--just for practice. Faith--did you find out what +reception your letters met?" + +"I knew before--" she said, meeting his eyes. + +"Did you!--then what made you assure me I should not like them?" + +"I don't think you did, Endecott--the parts of them that you oughtn't +to have liked." + +"Truly I think not!" he said laughing. "You are on safe ground there, +little Mignonette. But speaking of letters--do you want more tidings +from Italy?" + +"O yes I if you please. Are they good? And has all been good here with +you and the school since I have been away?" + +"Yes, they are good,--my sister--and yours--is enjoying herself +reasonably. And the boys have been good,--and I--have wanted my +Mignonette." + +One word in that speech brought a soft play of colour to Faith's face, +but her words did not touch that point. + +The days went on very quietly after that, and the weeks +followed,--quietly, regularly, full of business and pleasure. Quick +steps were made in many things during those weeks, little interrupted +by the rest of Pattaquasset, some of the most stirring people of that +town being away. An occasional tea-drinking did steal an evening now +and then, but also furnished the before and after walk or ride, and so +on the whole did little mischief; and as Faith was now sometimes taken +on Mr. Linden's visits to another range of society, she saw more of him +than ever; and daily learned more and more--not only of him, but of his +care for her. His voice--never indeed harsh to any one--took its +gentlest tones to her; his eye its softest and deepest lustre: no +matter how tired he came home--the first sight of her seemed to banish +all thought of fatigue. Faith could feel that she was the very delight +of his life. Indeed, by degrees, she began to understand that she had +long been so--only there had once been a qualification,--now, the +sunshine of his happiness had nothing to check its expression, or its +endeavour to make her life as bright. That he took "continual comfort" +in her, Faith could see. + +And--child!--he did not see what this consciousness spurred her to do; +how the strength of her heart spent itself--yet was never spent--in +efforts to grow and become more worthy of him and more fit for him to +take comfort in. The days were short, and Faith's household duties not +few, especially in the severe weather, when she could not let her +mother be tried with efforts which in summer-time might be easy and +pleasant enough. A good piece of every day was of necessity spent by +Faith about house and in the kitchen, and faithfully given to its work. +But her heart spurred her on to get knowledge. The times when Mr. +Linden was out of school could rarely be study times, except of study +with him; and to be prepared for him Faith was eager. She took times +that were hers all alone. Nobody heard her noiseless footfall in the +early morning down the stair. Long before it was light,--hours before +the sun thought of shewing his face to the white Mong and the snowy +houseroofs of Pattaquasset, Faith lighted her fire in the sitting-room, +and her lamp on the table; and after what in the first place was often +a good while with her Bible, she bent herself to the deep earnest +absorbed pressing into the studies she was pursuing with Mr. Linden--or +such of them as the morning had time for. Faith could not lengthen the +day at the other end; to prevent the sun was her only chance; and day +after day and week after week, through the short days of February, she +had done solid work and a deal of it before anybody in the house saw +her face in the kitchen or at breakfast. They saw it then as bright as +ever. Mr. Linden only knew that his scholar made very swift and smooth +progress. He would have known more, for Faith would have shewn the +effects of her early hours of work in her looks and life the rest of +the day, but happiness is strong; and a mind absolutely at peace with +God and the world has a great rest! Friction is said to be one of the +notable hindering powers in the world of matter--it is equally true, +perhaps, of the world of spirit. Without it, in either sphere, how +softly and with how little wear and tear, everything moves! And Faith's +life knew none. + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + + +It was near the end of February,--rather late in the afternoon of a by +no means balmy day, in the course of which Dr. Harrison had arrived to +look after his repairs. But the workmen had stopped work and gone home +to supper, and the doctor and his late dinner sat together. Luxuriously +enough, on the doctor's part, for the dinner was good and well cooked, +the bottles of wine irreproachable (as wine) in their silver stands, +the little group of different coloured glasses shining in the +firelight. The doctor's fingerbowl and napkin stood at hand, (at this +stage of the proceeding) his half-pared apple was clearly worth the +trouble, and he himself--between the fire and his easy-chair--might be +said to be "in the lap of comfort." Comfort rarely did much for him but +take him on her lap, however--he seldom stayed there; and on the +present occasion the doctor's eyes were very wide open and his thoughts +at work. It might be presumed that neither process was cut short, when +the old black man opened the door and announced Mr. Linden. + +But if Mr. Linden could have seen the doctor's face just before, he +might have supposed that his entrance had produced rather a sedative +effect. For the brow smoothed itself down, the eye took its light play +and the mouth its light smile, and the doctor's advance to meet his +friend was marked with all its graceful and easy unconcern. He did not +even seem energetic enough to be very glad; for grace and carelessness +still blended in his welcome and in his hospitable attentions, nothing +of which however was failing. He had presently made Mr. Linden as +comfortable as himself, so far as possible outward appliances could be +effectual; established him at a good side of the table; Burnished him +with fruit and pressed him with wine; and then sitting at ease at his +own corner, sipped his claret daintily, eyeing Mr. Linden good +humouredly between sips; but apparently too happily on good terms with +comfort to be in any wise eager or anxious as to what Mr. Linden's +business might be, or whether he had any. + +"Has the news of my arrival flown over Pattaquasset already?" said he. +"I thought I had seen nothing but frieze jackets, and friezes of broken +plaster--and I have certainly felt so much of another kind of _freeze_ +that I should hardly think even news could have stirred." + +Mr. Linden's reception of the doctor's hospitality had been merely +nominal--except so far as face and voice had the receiving, and he +answered quietly-- + +"I don't know. I happened to want you, doctor, and so I found out that +you were here." + +"Want me? I am very glad to be wanted by you--so that it be not _for_ +you. What is it, my dear Linden?" + +"No--you will not be glad," said Mr. Linden,--"though it is both for me +and not for me. I want you to go with me to see one of my little +scholars who is sick." + +"Who is he?" + +"One whom you have seen but will not remember,--Johnny Fax." + +"Fax--" said the doctor--"I remember the name, but no particular owner +of it. What's the matter with him?" + +"I want you to come and see." + +"Now?"-- + +"As near that as may be." + +"Now it shall be, then; though with such a February night on one side, +it takes all your power on the other to draw me out of this chair. You +don't look much like Comedy, and I am very little like the great +buskin-wearer--but I would as lieve Tragedy had me by the other +shoulder as February, when his fingers have been so very long away from +the fire. Did you ever read Thomson's 'Castle of Indolence,' Linden?" + +"Not to much purpose--the name is all I remember." + +"Stupid book,"--said the doctor;--"but a delightful place!" + +The luxury of broadcloth and furs in which the doctor was presently +involved might have rendered him reasonably independent, one would +think, of February or any other of Jack Frost's band. Jerry was at the +door, and involving themselves still further in buffalo robes the two +gentle men drove to the somewhat distant farm settlement which called +Jonathan Fax master. Mr. Fax was a well-to-do member of the +Pattaquasset community, as far as means went; there was very little +knowledge in his house how to make use of means. Nor many people to +make use of the knowledge. The one feminine member of the family had +lately married and gone off to take care of her own concerns, and +Jonathan and his one other child lived on as best they might; the child +being dependant upon the maid of all work for his clothes and +breakfast, for his Sunday lessons upon Faith, for the weekday teaching +and comfort of his little life upon Mr. Linden. Living along in this +somewhat divided way, the child had suddenly taken sick--no one just +knew how; nor just what to do with him--except to send Mr. Linden word +by one of the other boys, which had been done that afternoon. And thus +it was, that Dr. Harrison had been looked for, found, and drawn out +into the February night with only the slight protection of furs and +broadcloth. + +Thus it was that after a short and rather silent drive, the two +gentlemen went together into the last-century sort of a house, received +the angular welcome of Jonathan Fax, and stood side by side by the bed +where the sick child lay. Side by side--with what different faces! A +difference which Johnny was quick to recognize. He lay on the bed, +wrapped in a little old plaid cloak, and with cheeks which rivalled its +one remaining bright colour; and half unclosing his heavy eyes to see +the doctor, he stretched out his arms to Mr. Linden, clasping them +round his neck as his friend sat down on the bedside and gently lifted +him up, and receiving the kiss on his flushed cheek with a little +parting of the lips which said how glad he was. But then he lay quite +still in Mr. Linden's arms. + +Whatever attractions the Castle of Indolence might have for Dr. +Harrison upon occasion, he never seemed so much as to look that way +when he was at his work. Now, it made no difference that _he_ was no +friend of Johnny's; he gave his attention thoroughly and with all his +skill to the condition and wants of his little patient. + +"Is there nobody to take care of him?" he asked in French, for Jonathan +Fax with his square and by no means delicate and tender physiognomy +stood at the other side of the bed heavily looking on. + +"I shall, to-night," said Mr. Linden. "You may give me your directions." + +The doctor proceeded to do this; but added, "He wants care and good +nursing; and he'll suffer if he don't have it. He is a sick child." + +"He shall have it," was all the answer; and when the doctor had +finished his work for the time, Mr. Linden laid the child on the bed +again, giving him a whispered promise to come back and stay with him +all night; upon the strength of which promise Johnny fell into a deep +sleep. + +"Has the creature nobody to take care of him?" said the doctor as they +went out. + +"Nobody at home." + +"I shall be here a day or two, Linden--I'll see him early in the +morning again." + +Mr. Linden's next move through the biting air was to drive home. At the +door of the sitting-room Faith met him. + +"Endecott--how is he?" + +"Less well than I expected to find him, dear Faith. I found Dr. +Harrison and took him there with me." + +"And what did Dr. Harrison say of him?" + +"That he wanted good care and nursing." + +"And who is there to give it to him, Endy?" she said with a very +saddened and earnest face. + +"Why I shall give it to him to-night, my child, and we'll see about +to-morrow. The doctor promised to go there again in the morning." + +She stood a moment silent, and then said, "I'll go with you." + +"Not to-night, dear--it is not needful. He will not want more than one +watcher." + +"But he might want something else--something to be done that a woman +about the house might be wanted for--let me go too!--" + +"No indeed! you must go to sleep. And he will hardly want anything but +what I can give him to-night. I know well what your little hands are in +a sick room," he said taking them in his own,--"I know well!--but they +are not made of iron--nor are you." + +Faith looked ill satisfied. + +"Well, you'll not hinder my taking your place by him to-morrow, Endy?" + +"If I can," Mr. Linden said, "I shall come home to breakfast, and then +I may know what you had better do; but if I should be detained there, +and so not get here till midday, wait for me--I should not like to have +you go without seeing me again; and I can leave Reuben there for the +morning if need be." + +"Oh Endecott!--" she said with a heart full; but she said no more and +ran away. She came back soon to call Mr. Linden to tea, which had +waited; and after tea when he was about going she put a basket in his +hand. + +"I hope Mr. Fax has wood in his house, so that you can keep a +fire,--but you are not likely to find anything else there. You'll want +everything that is in this, Endy--please remember." + +"I will not forget," he said, as he gave her his thanks. "But what did +that exclamation mean, before tea?" + +"What exclamation?--Oh--" said Faith, smiling somewhat but looking +down, "I suppose it meant that I was disappointed." + +"My dear little child--you must try not to feel disappointed, because I +am quite sure you ought not to go; and that must content both you and +me. So good night."-- + +Faith tried to be contented, but her little scholar lay on her heart. +And it lay on her heart too, that Mr. Linden would be watching all +night and teaching all day. He did not know how much he had +disappointed, for she had laid a fine plan to go by starlight in the +morning to take his place and send him home for a little rest before +breakfast and school. Faith studied only one book that night, and that +was her Bible. + +It was a night of steady watching,--broken by many other things, but +not by sleep. There was constantly some little thing to do for the sick +child,--ranging from giving him a drink of water, to giving him "talk," +or rocking and--it might be--singing him to sleep. But the restless +little requests never had to wait for their answer, and with the whole +house sunk in stillness or sleep, Mr. Linden played the part of a most +gentle and efficient nurse--and thought of Faith, and her +disappointment. And so the night wore away, and the morning star came +up, and then the red flushes of sunrise. + +"Who turneth the night into day"--Mr. Linden thought, with a grave look +from the window to the little face beside him--and then the words +came,-- + + "In the morning, children, in the morning; + We'll all rise together in the morning!" + + +It was very early indeed, earlier even than usual, when Faith came down +and kindled her fire. And then leaving it to burn, she opened the +curtains of the window and looked out into the starlight. It was long +before the red flush of the morning; it was even before the time when +Faith would have gone to relieve the guard in that sick room; her +thoughts sped away to the distant watcher there and the sick child. +Faith could guess what sort of a watching it had been, and it was a +comfort to think that Johnny had it. But then as she looked out into +the clear still starlight, something brought up the question, what if +Johnny should die?--It was overwhelming to Faith for a minute; her +little scholar's loveliness had got fast hold of her heart; and she +loved him for deep and far-back associations too. She could not bear to +think that it might be. Yet she asked herself if this was a reasonable +feeling? Why should she be sorry--if it were so--that this little +blossom of Heaven should have an early transplanting thither? Ah, the +fragrance of such Heaven-flowers is too sweet to be missed, and Earth +wants them. As Faith looked sadly out into the night, watched the +eternal procession of bright stars, and heard the low sweep of the +wind, the words came to her,--separated from their context and from +everything else as it seemed,--"I, the Lord, do all these things." Her +mind as instantly gave a glad assent and rested itself in them. Not +seen by her or by mortal the place or fitting of any change or turn of +earthly things, in the great plan,--every one such turn and change had +its place, as sure as the post of each star in the sky--as true to its +commission as that wind, which came from no one knew where to go no one +knew whither. Faith looked and listened, and took the lesson deep down +in her heart. + +Mr. Linden's little basket had stood him well in stead that long +night,--for Faith had said truth; nothing was for him in Mr. Fax's +house. Mr. Fax was well enough satisfied that Johnny's teacher should +take the trouble of nursing the child, had no idea that such trouble +would necessarily involve much loss of sleep, and still further no +notion of the fact that a watcher at night needs food as much as fire. +Fire Mr. Linden had, but he would have been worse off without the +stores he found in his basket. In truth the supply generally was +sufficient to have kept him from starving even if he had been obliged +to go without his breakfast; but Dr. Harrison concerned himself about +his little patient, and was better than Mr. Linden's hopes. He came, +though in the cold short February morning, a good while before eight +o'clock. He gave Mr. Linden a pleasant clasp of the hand; and then made +his observations in silence. + +"Is this one of your favourites?" he said at length. + +A grave "yes." + +"I am sorry for it." + +Mr. Linden was silent at first, looking down at the child with a sort +of expression the doctor had not often seen, and when he spoke it was +without raising his eyes. + +"Tell me more particularly." + +"I don't know myself,"--said the doctor with a frankness startling in +one of his profession; but Dr. Harrison's characteristic carelessness +nowhere made itself more apparent than in his words and about what +people might think of them.--"I don't say anything _certainly_--but I +do not like appearances." + +"What is the matter?" + +"It's an indefinite sort of attack--all the worse for that!--the root +of which is hid from me. All you can do is to watch and wait. Have you +been here through the night?" + +"Yes," Mr. Linden answered--and put the further question, "Do you think +there is any danger of contagion?" + +"O no!--the fever, what there is, comes from some inward cause--a +complicated one, I judge. I can guess, and that's all. Are there no +women about the house?" + +"None that are good for much." And looking at his watch, Mr. Linden +laid the child--who had fallen asleep again--out of his arms among the +pillows, arranging them softly and dextrously as if he were used to the +business. + +"Reuben Taylor will stay with him for the present," he said as he +turned to Dr. Harrison. + +"I'll come again by and by," the doctor said. "Meanwhile all that can +be done is to let him have this, as I told you." + +The directions were given to Reuben, the doctor drove off, and Mr. +Linden set out on his quick walk home; after the confinement of the +night, the cold morning air and exercise were rather resting than +otherwise. It was a very thoughtful half hour--very sorrowful at first; +but before he reached home, thought, and almost feeling, had got beyond +"the narrow bounds of time," and were resting peacefully--even +joyfully--"where bright celestial ages roll." + +He entered the house with a light step, and went first upstairs to +change his dress; but when he came down and entered the sitting-room, +there was the tone of the whole walk upon his face still. Faith put her +question softly, as if she expected no glad answer. And yet it was +partly that, though given in very gentle, grave tones. + +"There is more to fear than to hope, dear Faith,--and there is +everything to hope, and nothing to fear!" + +She turned away to the breakfast-table; and said little more till the +meal was over. Then she rose when he did. + +"I am going now, Endy!"--The tone was of very earnest determination, +that yet waited for sanction. + +"Yes," he answered--"Dr. Harrison says the fever is not contagious, I +waited to know that. If I can I shall get free before midday, so I may +meet you there. And can you prepare and take with you two or three +things?"--he told her what. + +Faith set about them; and when they were done, Mr. Skip had finished +his breakfast and got Jerry ready. Some other preparations Faith had +made beforehand; and with no delay now she was on her swift way to +little Johnny's bedside. She came in like a vision of comfort upon the +sick room, with all sorts of freshness about her; grasped Reuben's +hand, and throwing back her hood, stooped her lips to Johnny's cheek. +And Johnny gave her his usual little fair smile--and then his eyes went +off to the doorway, as if he half expected to see some one else behind +her. But it was from no want of love to _her_, as she knew from the way +the eyes came back to her face and rested there, and took a sort of +pleased survey of her hood and, her fur and her dress. + +"Dear Johnny!--Can you speak to me?" said Faith tenderly touching her +cheek again to his. + +"Oh yes, ma'am," he said, in a quiet voice and with the same bit of a +smile. That was what Faith wanted. Then she looked up. + +"Are you going to school now, Reuben?" + +"I didn't expect to this morning, Miss Faith," Reuben said with a sober +glance at his little comrade. + +"Then you can wait here a bit for me." + +Leaving Reuben once more in charge, Faith went on a rummaging +expedition over the house to find some woman inmate. Not too easily or +speedily she was found at last, the housekeeper and all-work woman deep +in _all work_ as she really seemed, and in an outer kitchen of remote +business, whither Faith had traced her by an exercise of determinate +patience and skill. Having got so fur, Faith was not balked in the +rest; and obtaining from her some of Johnny's clean linen which she +persuaded her to go in search of, she returned to the room where she +had left Reuben; and set about making the sick child as comfortable as +in his sickness he could be. + +It was a day or two already since Johnny had lain there and had had +little effectual attention from anybody, till Mr. Linden came last +night. The child might well look at his new nurse, for her neat dress +and gentle face and soft movements were alone a balm for any sick +place. And in her quiet way, Faith set about changing the look of this +one. There was plenty of wood, and she made a glorious fire. Then +tenderly and dextrously she managed to get a fresh nightgown on Johnny +without disturbing him more than pleasantly with her soft +manipulations; and wrapping him in a nice little old doublegown which +she had brought with her and which had been a friend of her own +childish days, Faith gave him to Reuben to hold while she made up the +bed and changed the clothes, the means for which she had also won from +the housekeeper. Then having let down the chintz curtains to shield off +the intense glare of the sunny snow, Faith assumed Johnny into her own +arms. She had brought vinegar from home, and with it bathed the little +boy's face and hands and brushed his hair, till the refreshed little +head lay upon her breast in soothed rest and comfort. + +"There, Johnny!"--she whispered as her lips touched his brow,--"Mr. +Linden may come as soon as he pleases--we are ready for him!" + +The child half unclosed his eyes at the words, and then sunk again into +one of his fits of feverish sleep, the colour rising in his cheeks a +little, the breath coming quick. Reuben knelt down at Faith's side and +watched him. + +"I used to wonder, Miss Faith," he said softly, "what would become of +him if Mr. Linden ever went away"--and the quiet pause told what +provision Reuben thought was fast coming for any such contingency. + +"You can't think what Mr. Linden's been to Johnny, Miss Faith," he went +on in the same low voice,--"and to all of us," he added lower still. +"But he's taken such care of him, in school and out. It was only last +week Johnny told me he liked coming to school in the winter, because +then Mr. Linden always went home with him. And whenever he could get in +Mr. Linden's lap he was perfectly happy. And Mr. Linden would let him, +sometimes, even in school, because Johnny was so little and not very +strong,--and he'd let him sit in his lap and go to sleep for a little +while when he got tired, and then Johnny would go back to his lessons +as bright as a bee. That was the way he did the very first day school +was opened, for Johnny was frightened at first, and a mind to cry--he'd +never had anybody to take much care of him. And Mr. Linden just called +him and took him up and spoke to him--and Johnny laid his head right +down and went to sleep; and he's loved Mr. Linden with all his heart +ever since. I know we all laughed--and he smiled himself, but it made +all the rest of us love him too." + +Reuben had gone on talking, softly, as if he felt sure of sympathy in +all he might say on the subject. But that "first day school was +opened!"--how Faith's thoughts sprang back there,--with what strange, +mixed memories the vision of it came up before her! That day and time +when so many new threads were introduced into her life, which were now +shewing their colours and working out their various patterns. It was +only a spring there and back again, however, that her thoughts took; or +rather the vision was a sort of background to Reuben's delineations, +and her eye was upon these; with what kind of sympathy she did not care +to let him see. Her cheek was bent down to the sick child's head and +Faith's face was half hidden. Until a moment later, when the door +opened and Johnny's father came in to see what was become of him; and +then Mr. Fax had no clue to the lustrous softness of the eyes that +looked up at him. He could make nothing of it. + +"What!" said he. "Why who's Johnny got to look after him now?" + +"I am his teacher, sir." + +"His teacher, be you? Seems to me he's a lot of 'em. One teacher stayed +with him last night. How many has he got, among you?" + +"Only two--" said Faith, rejoicing that she was _one_. "I am his Sunday +school teacher." + +"Well what's your name, now?" + +"Faith Derrick." + +"_That's_ who you be!" said Mr. Fax in surprise. "Don't say! Well +Johnny's got into good hands, aint he? How's he gettin' along?" + +Faith's eye went down to the little boy, and her hand passed slowly and +tenderly over his hair; she was at a loss how to answer, and Reuben +spoke for her. + +"He's been sleeping a good deal this morning." + +The father stooped towards the child, but his look went from him to +Faith, with a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness as he spoke. + +"Sleepin', is he?--Then I guess he's gettin' along first-rate--aint he?" + +Again Faith's look astonished the man, both because of its intent soft +beauty and the trembling set of her lip. But how to answer him she did +not know. Her head sunk over the child's brow as she exclaimed, + +"His dear Master knows what to do with him!" + +Jonathan Fax stood up straight and looked at Reuben. + +"What does she mean!" + +"She means that he is in God's hands, and that we don't know yet what +He will do," Reuben answered with clear simplicity. + +Yet it was a strange view of the subject to Mr. Fax; and he stood stiff +and angular and square, looking down at Faith and her charge, feeling +startled and strange. Her face was bent so that he could not see that +quiver of her lip now; but he did see one or two drops fall from the +lowered eyelids on Johnny's hair. Perhaps he would have asked more +questions, but he did not; something kept them back. He stood fixed, +with gathering soberness growing over his features. Little he guessed +that those tears had been half wrung from Faith's eyes by the contrast +between his happy little child and him. It was with something like a +groan at last that he turned away, merely bidding Reuben Taylor to call +for anything that was wanted. + +The morning wore on softly, for Johnny still slept. Reuben went quietly +about, giving attention where it was needed; to the fire, or to the +curtains--drawn back now as the sun got round--or bringing Faith a +footstool, or trying some other little thing for her comfort; and when +he was not wanted remaining in absolute stillness. As it neared midday, +however, he took his stand by the window, and after a short watch there +suddenly turned and left the room. And a moment after Mr. Linden came +in. + +Faith met him with a look of grave, sweet quiet; in which was mingled a +certain joy at being where she was. She waited for him to speak. But +something in her face, or her office, moved him,--the gravity of his +own look deepened as he came forward--his words were not ready. He sat +down by her, resting his arm on the back of her chair and giving her +and Johnny the same salutation--the last too softly to rouse him. + +"Has the doctor been here?" he said first. + +"No." + +He was silent again for a minute, but then Johnny suddenly started +up--waking perhaps out of some fever dream; for he seemed frightened +and bewildered, and almost ready to cry; turning his head uneasily away +from everything and everybody as it seemed, until his eyes were fairly +open, and then giving almost a spring out of Faith's arms into those of +Mr. Linden; holding him round the neck and breathing little sobbing +breaths on his shoulder, till the resting-place had done its +work,--till Mr. Linden's soft whispered words had given him comfort. +But it was a little wearily then that he said, "Sing." + +Was it wearily that the song was given? Faith could not tell,--she +could not name those different notes in the voice, she could only feel +that the octave reached from earth to heaven. + + "'How kind is Jesus, Lord of all! + To hear my little feeble call. + How kind is Jesus, thus to be + Physician, Saviour, all to me! + + 'How much he loves me he doth shew; + How much he loves I cannot know. + I'm glad my life is his to keep, + Then he will watch and I may sleep. + + 'Jesus on earth, while here I lie; + Jesus in heaven, if I die: + I'm safe and happy in his care, + His love will keep me, here or there. + + 'An angel he may send for me, + And then an angel I shall be. + Lord Jesus, through thy love divine, + Thy little child is ever thine.'" + + +Faith had drawn her chair a little back and with her head leaning on +the back of Mr. Linden's chair, listened--in a spirit not very +different from Johnny's own. She looked up then when it was done, with +almost as childlike a brow. It had quieted him, as with a charm, and +the little smile he gave Faith was almost wondering why she looked +grave. + +"You've been here a good while," he said, as if the mere announcement +of the fact spoke his thanks. + +"Has she?" Mr. Linden said. "What has Miss Faith done with you, Johnny, +if she has been here a good while?" + +"All sorts of things," Johnny answered, with another comprehensive +expression of gratitude. + +"I thought so!" said Mr. Linden. "I shouldn't wonder a bit if she had +dressed you up in something she used to wear herself." + +"She wasn't ever so little," the child said softly. + +Faith had been preparing for him a cup of some light nourishment which +he was to take from time to time, and now coming to Mr. Linden's side +kneeled down there before Johnny to give it to him. The child took the +delicate spoonfuls as she gave them, turning his fair eyes from her to +Mr. Linden as if he felt in a very sweet atmosphere of love and care; +and when she went away with the cup he said in his slow fashion, + +"I love her very much." + +And Faith heard the answer-- + +"And so do I." + +Coming up behind Mr. Linden she laid her hand on his shoulder. + +"Endecott--where are you going to take dinner and rest to-day?" + +"O I will take rest by the way," he answered lightly, and with a smile +at her. "There is dinner enough in my supper basket--I have not much +time for it, neither." + +"School again this afternoon?" + +"Yes I must be there for awhile." + +Faith moved away, remarking in a different tone, "Your supper basket is +at home, sir!"--and busied her energies about serving him as she had +just served Johnny. With something more substantial however. Faith had +brought a lunch basket, and in five minutes had made Mr. Linden a cup +of home tea. + +"Now how shall we manage?" she said;--"for Johnny must have you every +minute while you are here--and there is no such thing as a little +table. I shall have to be table and dumb waiter for you--if you won't +mind." + +And so Faith pulled up her chair again and sat down, with the basket +open on her lap and Mr. Linden's cup in her hand. + +"I only hope," she said, "that Dr. Harrison will not choose this +particular minute to come in! If he does, catch the cup of tea, +Endecott!--for I won't answer for anything." + +"I don't know whether I should be most sorry or proud, in case of such +event," said Mr. Linden,--"however, I do not wish the doctor anything +so disagreeable. But I will promise to catch the cup of tea--and +everything else, down to his displeasure. Only you must not be a _dumb_ +waiter; for that will not suit me at all." + +It was one of those pretty bits of sunshine that sometimes shew +themselves in the midst of a very unpromising day, the time when they +sat there with the lunch basket between them. The refreshment of talk +and of lunch (for lunch _is_ refreshing when it is needed) brightened +both faces and voices; and Mr. Linden's little charge, in one of his +turns of happy rest and ease, watched them--amused and interested--till +he fell asleep. By that time Mr. Linden's spare minutes were about +over. As he was laying Johnny gently down on the bed, Faith seized her +chance. + +"You'll let me stay here to-night--won't you, Endecott?" + +"It would not be good for you, dear child,--if you stay until night it +will be quite as much as you ought to do. But I will see you again by +that time." + +"I am strong, Endecott." + +"Yes, you are strong, little Sunbeam," he said, turning now to her and +taking both her hands,--"and yet it is a sort of strength I must guard. +Even sunbeams must not be always on duty. But we'll see about it when I +come back." + +Mr. Linden went off to his other sphere of action, and soon after +Reuben came softly in, just to let Faith know that he was at hand if +she wanted anything, and to offer to take her place. + +"Reuben!" said Faith suddenly, "have you had any dinner?" + +"O yes, ma'am--enough," Reuben said with a smile. "I brought something +with me this morning." + +Faith put her lunch basket into his hand, but her words were cut short; +for she saw Dr. Harrison just coming to the house. She moved away and +stood gravely by the fire. + +The doctor came in pulling off his glove. He gave his hand to Faith +with evident pleasure, but with a frank free pleasure, that had nothing +embarrassing about the manner of it; except the indication of its +depth. After a few words given with as easy an intonation as if the +thermometer were not just a few degrees above zero outside where he had +come from, the doctor's eye went over to the other person in the room; +and then the doctor himself crossed over and offered his hand. + +"I shall never see you, Reuben,"--said he with a very pleasant +recollective play of eye and lip,--"without thinking of a _friend_." + +The doctor had a more full view of Reuben's eyes, thereupon, than he +had ever before been favoured with,--for one moment their clear, true, +earnest expression met his. But whatever the boy read--or tried to +read--or did not read, he answered simply, as he looked away again, + +"You have been that to me, sir." + +"I don't know--" said the doctor lightly. "I am afraid not according to +your friend. Mr. Linden's definition. But reckon me such a one as I +_can_ be, will you?"--He turned away without waiting for the answer and +went back to Faith. + +"Do you know," he said, "I expected to find you here?" + +"Very naturally," said Faith quietly. + +"Yes--it is according to my experience. Now how is this child?"-- + +He turned to see, and so did Faith. He looked at the child, while +Faith's eye went from Johnny to him. Both faces were grave, but Faith's +grew more grave as she looked. + +"How is this child?" she repeated. + +"He is not worse," said the doctor; "except that not to be better is to +be worse. Are you particularly interested in him?" + +Faith looked down at the sweet pure little face, and for a minute or +two was very still. She did not even think of answering the doctor, nor +dare speak words at all. Her first movement was to push away softly a +lock of hair from Johnny's forehead. + +"What can I do for him, Dr. Harrison?" + +"Not much just now--go on as you have been doing. I will be here +to-night again, and then perhaps I shall know more." + +He gave her a new medicine for him however; and having said all that +was needful on that score, came back with her to the fire and stood a +little while talking--just so long as it would do for him to stay with +any chance of its being acceptable; talking in a tone that did not jar +with the place or the time, gravely and pleasantly, of some matters of +interest; and then he went. And Faith sat down by the bedside, and +forgot Dr. Harrison; and thought of the Sunday school in the woods that +evening in October, and the hymn, "I want to be an angel"; and looked +at Johnny with a very full heart. + +Not a very long time had passed, when Faith heard sleigh bells again, +and a person very different from the doctor came softly in; even Mrs. +Derrick. She smiled at Reuben and Faith, and going close up to the bed +folded her hands quietly together and stood looking at the sick child; +the smile vanishing from her face, her lips taking a tender, pitiful +set--her eyes in their experience gravely reading the signs. She looked +for a few minutes in silence, then with a little sorrowful sigh she +turned to Faith. + + +"Pretty child," she said, "can't you take a little rest? I'll sit by +him now." + +"O mother I'm not tired--much. I have not been very busy." + +Mrs. Derrick however took the matter into her own hands, and did not +content herself till she had Faith on a low seat at her side, and +Faith's head on her lap; which was a rest, to mind and body both. +Reuben replenished the fire and went out, and the two sat alone. + +"Faith," her mother said softly, "don't you think he'd be content with +me to-night? I can't bear to have Mr. Linden sit up." + +"I want to stay myself, mother, if he would let me." + +"I don't believe he'll do that, Faith--and I guess he's right But you +must make him go home to tea, child, and he might rest a little then; +and I'll stay till he comes back, at least." + +There was not much more to be said then, for Johnny woke up and wanted +to be taken on Faith's lap, and talked to, and petted; answering all +her efforts with a sort of grateful little smile and way; but moving +himself about in her arms as if he felt restless and uneasy. It went to +her heart. Presently, in the low tones which were music of themselves, +she carried his thoughts off to the time when Jesus was a little child; +and began to give him, in the simplicity of very graphic detail, part +of the story of Christ's life upon earth. It was a name that Johnny +loved to hear; and Faith went from point to point of his words, and +wonders, and healing power and comforting love. Not dwelling too long, +but telling Johnny very much as if she had seen it, each gentle story +of the sick and the weary and the troubled, who came in their various +ways to ask pity of Jesus, and found it; and reporting to Johnny as if +she had heard them the words of promise and love that a little child +could understand. Mrs. Derrick listened; she had never heard just such +a talk in her life. The peculiarity of it was in the vivid faith and +love which took hold of the things as if Faith had had them by eyesight +and hearing, and in the simplicity of representation with which she +gave them, as a child to a child. And all the while she let Johnny +constantly be changing his position, as restlessness prompted; from +sitting to kneeling and lying in her arms; sometimes brushing his hair, +which once in a while he had a fancy for, and sometimes combing it off +from his forehead with her own fingers dipped in the vinegar and water +which he liked to smell. Nothing could be more winning--nothing more +skilful, in its way, than Faith's talk to the sick child that half hour +or more. And Johnny told its effect, in the way he would bid her +"talk," if she paused for a minute. So by degrees the restless fit +passed off for the time, and he lay still in her arms, with drooping +heavy eyelids now. + +Everything was subsiding;--the sun sank down softly behind the wavy +horizon line, the clouds floated silently away to some other harbour, +and the blasts of wind came fainter and fainter, like the music of a +retreating army. Swiftly the daylight ebbed away, and still Faith +rocked softly back and forth, and her mother watched her. Once in a +while Reuben came silently in to bring wood or fresh water,--otherwise +they had no interruption. Then Mr. Linden came, and sitting down by +Faith as he had done before, asked about the child and about the doctor. + +"He came very soon after you went away," said Faith. "He said that he +was no better, and that to be no better was to be worse." It was plain +that she thought more than she said. Faith had little experience, but +there is an intuitive skill in some eyes to know what they have never +known before. + +Mr. Linden bent down over the child, laying cheek to cheek softly and +silently, until Johnny rousing up a little held up his lips to be +kissed,--and he did not raise his head then. + +"Have you been asleep, Johnny?" he said. + +"I don't know," the child said dreamily. + +"Has Miss Faith taken care of you ever since I went?" + +"Yes," Johnny said, with a little faint smile--"and we've had talk." + +"I wish I had been here to hear it," said Mr. Linden. "What was it +about?--all sorts of sweet things?" + +"Yes," Johnny said again, his face brightening--"out of the Bible." + +"Well they are the sweetest things I know of," said Mr. Linden. "Now if +you will come on my lap, I am sure Miss Faith will get you something to +eat--she can do it a great deal better than I can." + +Faith had soon done that, and brought the cup to Johnny, of something +that he liked, and fed him as she had done at noon. It seemed to +refresh him, for he fell into a quieter sleep than he had had for some +time, and was oftly laid on the bed. + +"Now dear Faith," Mr. Linden said coming back to her, "it is time for +you to go home and rest." + +"Do you mean to send me?" she said wistfully. + +"Or take you--" he said, with a soft touch of his fingers on her hair. +"I don't know but I could be spared long enough for that." + +It was arranged so, Mrs. Derrick undertaking to supply all deficiencies +so far as she could, until Mr. Linden should get back again. The fast +drive home through the still cold air was refreshing to both parties; +it was a still drive too. Then leaving Mr. Linden to get a little rest +on the sofa, Faith prepared tea. But Mr. Linden would not stay long +after that, for rest or anything. + +"I am coming very early to-morrow, Endecott," Faith said then. + +"You may, dear child--if you will promise to sleep to-night. But you +must not rouse yourself _too_ early. You know to-morrow is Saturday--so +I shall not be called off by other duties." + +He went, and Mrs. Derrick came; but Faith, though weary enough +certainly, spent the evening in study. + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + + +There is no knowing what Mr. Linden would have considered "too early," +and Faith had prudently omitted to enquire. She studied nothing but her +Bible that morning and spent the rest of the time in getting ready what +she was to take with her; for Mr. Linden would not come home to +breakfast. And it was but fair day, the sun had not risen, when she was +on her way. She wondered, as she went, what they would have done that +winter without Jerry; and looked at the colouring clouds in the east +with a strange quick appreciation of the rising of that other day told +of in the Bible. Little Johnny brought the two near; the type and the +antitype. It was a pretty ride; cold, bright, still, shadowless; till +the sun got above the horizon, and then the long yellow faint beams +threw themselves across the snow that was all a white level before. +They reached Faith's heart, as the commissioned earnest of that other +Sun that will fill the world with his glory and that will make heaven a +place where "there shall be no night." + +The room where little Johnny was,--lay like the chamber called Peace, +in the Pilgrim's Progress--towards the sunrising; but to reach it Faith +had first to pass through another on the darker side of the house. The +door between the two stood open, perhaps for fresher air, and as Faith +came lightly in she could see that room lit up as it were with the +early sunbeams. It was an old-fashioned room;--the windows with chintz +shades, the floor painted, with a single strip of rag carpet; the old +low-post bed-stead, with its check blue and white spread, the +high-backed splinter chairs, told of life that had made but little +progress in modern improvement. And Jonathan Fax himself, lean, +long-headed, and lantern-jawed, looked grimmer than ever under his new +veil of solemn feeling. He sat by the window. + +The wood fire in the low fireplace flickered and fell with its changing +light, on all; but within the warm glow a little group told of life +that _had_ made progress--progress which though but yet begun, was to +go on its fair course through all the ages of eternity! + +Little Johnny sat in his teacher's lap, one arm round his neck, and his +weary little head resting as securely on Mr. Linden's breast as if it +had been a woman's. The other hand moved softly over the cuff of that +black sleeve, or twined its thin fingers in and out the strong hand +that was clasped round him. Sometimes raising his eyes, Johnny put some +question, or asked for "talk;" his own face then much the brighter of +the two,--Faith could see the face that bent over him not only touched +with its wonted gravity, which the heavenly seal set there, but moved +and shaken in its composure by the wistful eyes and words of the little +boy. The answering words were too low-spoken for her to hear. She could +see how tenderly the child's caresses were returned,--not the mother +whose care Johnny had never known, could have given the little head +gentler rest. Nay, not so good,--unless she could have given the little +heart such comfort. For Johnny was in the arms of one who knew well +that road to the unseen land--who had studied it; and now as the child +went on before him, could still give him words of cheer, and shew him +the stepping-stones through the dark river. It seemed to Faith as if +the river were already in sight,--as if somewhat of + + "that strange, unearthly grace + Which crowns but once the children of our race--" + +already rested upon Johnny's fair brow. Yet he looked brighter than +yesterday, bright with a very sweet clear quietness now. + +Faith stood still one minute--and another; then pulling off her hood, +she came in with a footfall so noiseless that it never brought Mr. +Fax's head from the window, and knelt down by the side of that group. +She had a smile for Johnny too, but it was a smile that had quite left +the things of the world behind it and met the child on his own ground; +and her kiss was sweet accordingly. A look and a clasp of the hand to +Mr. Linden; then she rose up and went round to the window to take the +hand of Mr. Fax, who had found his feet. + +"I'm very much beholden to ye!" said he in somewhat astonished wise. +"You're takin' a sight o' trouble among ye." + +"It's no trouble, sir." + +Mr. Fax looked bewildered. He advanced to Mr. Linden. "Now this girl's +here," said he, "don't you think you hadn't better come into another +room and try to drop off? I guess he can get along without you for a +spell--can't he?" + +"I am not quite ready to leave him," Mr. Linden said,--"and I am not at +all sleepy, Mr. Fax. Perhaps I will come by and by." + +"We'll have breakfast, I conclude, some time this forenoon. I'll go and +see if it's ever comin'. Maybe you'll take that first." + +He went away; and Faith, rid of her wrappers, came up again behind +Johnny, passing her fingers through his hair and bending down her face +to his; she did not speak. Only her eye went to Mr. Linden for +intelligence, as the eye will, even when it has seen for itself! + +"Dr. Harrison is coming this morning," was all he said. She did not +need to ask any more. + +"May Johnny have anything now?" + +"O yes--and he will like it," Mr. Linden said in a different tone, and +half addressing the child. "He asked me some time ago when you were +coming--but not for that." + +Faith brought something freshly prepared for Johnny and served him +tenderly. Meanwhile her own coffee had been on the fire; and after +making two or three simple arrangements of things she came back to them. + +"Will you sit with me now, Johnny, and let Mr. Linden have some +breakfast?" + +"In here?" the child said. But being reassured on that point, he came +to Faith's arms very willingly, or rather let Mr. Linden place him +there, when she had drawn her chair up nearer the table so that he +could look on. And with her arms wrapped tenderly round him, but a face +of as clear quiet as the morning sky when there are no clouds before +the sunrise, she sat there, and she and Johnny matched Mr. Linden's +breakfast. There was no need to talk, for Johnny had a simple pleasure +in what was going on, and in everything his friend did. And if the +little face before him hindered Mr. Linden's enjoyment of breakfast, +that was suffered to appear as little as possible. Breakfast was even +rather prolonged and played with, because it seemed to amuse him; and +the word and the smile were always ready, either to call forth or to +answer one from the child. Nor from him alone, for by degrees even +Faith was drawn out of her silence. + +Mr. Linden had not yet changed his place, when on the walk that led up +to the house Faith saw the approach of Dr. Harrison. The doctor as he +came in gave a comprehensive glance at the table, Mr. Linden who had +risen, and Faith with Johnny in her lap; shook hands with Mr. Linden, +and taking the chair he had quitted sat down in front of Faith and +Johnny. A question and answer first passed about her own well-being. + +"You've not been here all night?" said he. + +"No, sir. I came a while ago." + +The doctor's unsatisfied eye fell on the child; fell, with no change of +its unsatisfied expression. It took rapid and yet critical note of him, +with a look that Faith knew through its unchangingness, scanned, +judged, and passed sentence. Then Dr. Harrison rose and walked over to +Mr. Linden. + +"There is nothing to be done," he said in a low tone. "I would +stay--but I know that it would be in vain. _She_ ought not to be here." + +For the first remark Mr. Linden was prepared,--the second fell upon a +heart that was already keeping closer watch over her strength and +happiness than even the doctor could. He merely answered by a quiet +question or two as to what could be done for the child's comfort--as to +the probable length of time there would be to do anything. + +"He may have any simple thing he likes," said the doctor--"such as he +has had. I need not give you directions for more than to-day. I am +sorry I cannot stay longer with you--but it does not matter--you can do +as well as I now." + +He went up to Faith and spoke with a different manner. "Miss Faith, I +hope you will not let your goodness forget that its powers need to be +taken care of. You were here yesterday--there is no necessity for you +to be here to-day." + +"I don't come for necessity, Dr. Harrison." + +"I know!" said he shaking his head,--"your will is strong! but it ought +not to have full play. You are not wanted here." + +Faith let him go without an answer to that. As soon as the doctor was +gone, Mr. Linden came and sat down by Johnny again, kissing the child's +brow and cheek and lips, with a face a little moved indeed, and yet +with its clear look unclouded; and softly asked what he should do for +him. But though Johnny smiled, and stroked his face, he seemed rather +inclined to be quiet and even to sleep; yielding partly to the effect +of weakness and fever, partly to the restless night; and his two +teachers watched him together. Faith was very silent and quiet. Then +suddenly she said, + +"Go and take some rest yourself, won't you, Endecott--now." + +"I do not feel the need of it--" he said. "I had some snatches of sleep +last night." + +She looked at him, but the silence was unbroken again for some little +time longer. At length, pushing aside a lock of hair from the fair +little brow beneath which the eyelids drooped with such unnatural +heaviness, Faith said,--and the tone seemed to come from very stillness +of heart, the words dropped so grave and clear,-- + +"The name of Christ is good here to-day, Endecott." + +"How good! how precious!" was his quick rejoinder. "And how very +precious too, is the love of his will!"--and he repeated softly, as if +half thinking it out-- + + "'I worship thee, sweet will of God! + And all thy ways adore! + And every day I live, I seem + To love thee more and more.'" + + +An earnest, somewhat wistful glance of Faith's eye was the answer; it +was not a dissenting answer, but it went back to Johnny. Her lip was a +child's lip in its humbleness. + +"It was very hard for me to give him up at first--" Mr. Linden went on +softly; and the voice said it was yet; "but that answers all questions. +'The good Husbandman may pluck his roses, and gather in his lilies at +mid-summer, and, for aught I dare say, in the beginning of the first +summer month.'"-- + +Faith looked at the little human flower in her arms--and was silent. + +"Reuben was telling me yesterday--" she said after a few +minutes,--"what you have been to him." + +But her words touched sweet and bitter things--Mr. Linden did not +immediately answer,--his head drooped a little on his hand, and he did +not raise it again until Johnny claimed his attention. + +The quiet rest of the little sleeper was passing off,--changing into an +unquiet waking; not with the fear of yesterday but with a restlessness +of discomfort that was not easily soothed. Words and caresses seemed to +have lost their quieting power for the time, though the child's face +never failed to answer them; but he presently held out his arms to Mr. +Linden, with the words, "Walk--like last night." + +And for a while then Faith had nothing to do but to look and listen; to +listen to the soft measured steps through the room, to watch the +soothing, resting effect of the motion on the sick child, as wrapped in +Mr. Linden's arms he was carried to and fro. She could tell how it +wrought from the quieter, unbent muscles--from the words which by +degrees Johnny began to speak. But after a while, one of these words +was, "Sing."--Mr. Linden did not stay his walk, but though his tone was +almost as low as his foot-steps, Faith heard every word. + + "Jesus loves me--this I know, + For the Bible tells me so: + Little ones to him belong,-- + They are weak, but he is strong. + + "Jesus loves me,--he who died + Heaven's gate to open wide; + He will wash away my sin, + Let his little child come in. + + "Jesus loves me--loves me still, + Though I'm very weak and ill; + From his shining throne on high + Comes to watch me where I lie. + + "Jesus loves me,--he will stay + Close beside me all the way. + Then his little child will take + Up to heaven for his dear sake." + + +There were a few silent turns taken after that, and then Mr. Linden +came back to the rocking-chair, and told Faith in a sort of bright +cheerful way--meant for her as well as the child--that Johnny wanted +her to brush his hair and give him something to eat. Which Johnny +enforced with one of his quiet smiles. Faith sprang to do it, and both +offices were performed with hands of tenderness and eyes of love, with +how much inner trembling of heart neither eyes nor hands told. Then, +after all that was done, Faith stood by the table and began to swallow +coffee and bread on her own account, somewhat eagerly. Mr. Linden +watched her, with grave eyes. + +"Now you must go and lie down," he said. + +"Not at all!" Faith said with a smile at him. "I hadn't time--or didn't +take time--to eat my breakfast before I came away from home--that is +all. It is you who ought to do that, Endy,"--she added gently. + +She put away the things, cleared the table, made up the fire, and +smoothed the bed, ready for Johnny when he should want it; and then she +came and sat down. + +"Won't you go?" she said softly. + +"I would rather stay here." + +Faith folded her hands and sat waiting to be useful. + +Perhaps Mr. Linden thought it would be a comfort to her if he at least +partly granted her request, perhaps he thought it would be wise; for he +said, laying his cheek against the child's,-- + +"Johnny, if you will sit with Miss Faith now, I will lay my head down +on one of your pillows for a little while, and you can call me the +minute you want me." + +The child was very quiet and resting then, and leaning his head happily +against Faith, watched Mr. Linden as he sat down by the bedside and +gave himself a sort of rest in the way he had proposed; and then +Faith's gentle voice was put in requisition. It was going over some +things Johnny liked to hear, very softly so that no ears but his might +be the wiser,--when the door opened and Jonathan Fax came in again. He +glanced at Mr. Linden, and advanced softly up to Faith. There stood and +looked down at his child and her with a curious look--that half +recognized what it would not see. + +"You're as good to him as if he belonged to ye!--" said Jonathan, in a +voice not clear. + +"So he does--" was Faith's answer, laying her cheek to the little boy's +head. "By how many ties," she thought; but she added no more. The words +had shaken her. + +"How's he gettin' on?" was the uneasy question next, as the father +stooped with his hands on his knees to look nearer at the child. + +Did he not know? Faith for a minute held her breath. Then she lifted +her face and looked up--looked full into his eyes. + +"Don't you know, Mr. Fax, that Johnny cannot go any way but _well?_" + +The words were soft and low, but the man stood up, straightening +himself instantly as if he had received a blow. + +"Do you mean to say," he asked huskily, "that he is goin' to _die?_" + +It startled Faith fearfully. She did not know how much Johnny would +understand or be moved by the words. And she saw that they had been +heard and noted. With infinite softness and quietness she laid her +cheek to the little boy's, answering in words as sweet as he had ever +heard from her voice--as unfearful-- + +"Johnny knows where he is going, if Jesus wants him." + +"Jesus is in heaven," the child said instantly, as if she had asked him +a question, and with the same deliberate manner that he would have +answered her in Sunday school, and raising his clear eyes to hers as he +had been wont to do there. But the voice was fainter. + +Faith's head drooped lower, and her voice was fainter too--but clear +and cheery. + +"Yes, darling--and we'll be with him there by and by." + +"Yes," the child repeated, nestling his head against her in a weary +sort of way, but with a little smile still. The father looked at Faith +and at the child like one mazed and bewildered; stood still as if he +had got a shock; then wheeling round spoke to nobody and went out. +Faith pressed her lips and cheek lightly to Johnny's brow, in a rush of +sorrow and joy; then began again some sweet Bible story for his tired +little spirit. + +Mr. Linden did not long keep even his resting position, though perhaps +longer than he would but for the murmuring talk which he did not want +to interrupt. But when that ceased, he came back to his former seat, +leaning his arm on Faith's chair in a silence that was very +uninterrupted. There were plenty of comers and goers in the outer +room,--Miss Bezac, and Mrs. Stoutenburgh, and Mrs. Derrick, and Mrs. +Somers, were all there with offers of assistance; but Mr. Linden knew +well that little Johnny had all he could have, and his orders to Reuben +had been very strict that no one should come in. So except the various +tones of different voices--which made their way once in a while--the +two watchers had nothing to break the still quiet in which they sat. +Their own words only made the quiet deeper, as they watched the little +feet which they had first guided in the heavenward path, now passing on +before them. + +"We were permitted to shew him the way at first, Faith," Mr. Linden +said, "but he is shewing it to us now! But 'suffer them to come'! in +death as in life." + +Much of the time the child slumbered--or lay in a half stupor, though +often this was uneasy unless Mr. Linden walked with him up and down the +room. Then he would revive a little, and look and speak quite brightly, +asking for singing or reading or talk,--letting Faith smooth his hair, +or bathe his face and hands, or give him a spoonful or two from one of +her little cups; his face keeping its fair quiet look, even though the +mortal began to give way before the immortal. + +In one of these times of greater strength and refreshment, when he was +in Mr. Linden's arms, he looked up at him and said, + +"Read about heaven--what you used to." + +Mr. Linden took his little Bible--remembering but too readily what that +"used" to be, and read softly and clearly the verses in Revelation-- + +"'And he shewed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem.--And the city +had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the +glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. And the +nations of them that are saved shall walk in the light of it, and the +kings of the earth do bring their glory and honour unto it. And the +gates of it shall not be shut at all by day, for there shall be no +night there. And there shall in no wise enter into it anything that +defileth, or whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie, but they +that are written in the Lamb's book of life.'" + +The child listened, with his eyes upon his teacher's face and his arm +round him, as he had been "used," too, and when the reading was +finished lay quiet for a little time; while his friends too were +silent--thinking of "the city that hath foundations." + +"That's the same gate," Johnny said in his slow, thoughtful way, as if +his mind had gone back to the morning hymn. + +"Yes," Mr. Linden said, with lips that would not quite be controlled, +and yet answering the child's smile, "that is the gate where his little +child shall go in! And that is the beautiful city where the Lord Jesus +lives, and where my Johnny is going to be with him forever--and where +dear Miss Faith and I hope to come by and by." + +The child's hands were folded together, and with a fair, pure smile he +looked from one face to the other; closing his eyes then in quiet +sleep, but with the smile yet left. + +It was no time for words. The gates of the city seemed too near, where +the little traveller's feet were so soon to enter. The veil between +seemed so slight, that even sense might almost pass beyond it,--when +the Heaven-light was already shining on that fair little face! Faith +wiped away tears--and looked--and brushed them away again; but for a +long time was very silent. At last she said, very low, that it might be +quietly,-- + +"Endecott--it seems to me as if I could almost hear them!" + +He half looked the question which yet needed no answer, looking down +then again at the little ransomed one in his arms, as he said in the +same low voice, wherein mingled a note of the church triumphant through +all its deep human feeling,-- + +"'And they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to take the book +and to open the seals thereof, for thou wast slain: and hast redeemed +us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people +and nation'!" + +"And," said Faith presently, lower still,--"can't you, as Bunyan says, +hear the bells of the city ringing for joy!--" + +Those "choral harmonies of heaven, heard or unheard," were stilling to +mortal speech and even mortal feeling. Very quietly the minutes and the +hours of that day succeeded each other. Quietly even on the sick +child's part; more so than yesterday; nature succumbed gently, and the +restless uneasiness which had marked the night and the preceding day +gave place gradually before increasing faintness of the bodily powers. +There was little "talk" called for after that time--hardly any, though +never a word met his waking ear that did not meet the same grateful, +pleased manner and smile. But the occasions became fewer; Johnny +slumbered gently, but more plainly a sleep that was nearing the end, in +the arms of his best friend, who would let him even when unconscious +have no worse resting-place--would let every faint waking minute find +the same earthly love about him that had been his dearest earthly +refuge and stay. But earth was having less and less of her little +immortal tenant; and as the hours of the afternoon began to tell of +failing light and a fading day, it was plain that the little spirit was +almost ready to wing its way to the "city that hath no need of the sun." + +Mr. Fax came in sometimes to look at the child, but never staid +long--never offered to take him out of the hands he perhaps +unconsciously felt were more of kin to him, spiritually, than his own. +Out of the room, he sat down in the midst of his visitors and said +nothing. He seemed bewildered--or astounded. "I never knowed," he said +once, "till that girl told me. I heard what the doctor said at +night--but I didn't think as he was any wiser than other doctors--and +their word's about as good one side as 'tother." + +At the edge of the evening Reuben came in to say that Mr. Skip was +there with the sleigh. + +"Let him put Jerry in the stable and go home," Faith said softly to Mr. +Linden. "One of Mr. Fax's men can harness him any time." + +"Dear Faith!" he said, "you had better go with him." + +"I can't go, Endecott. Don't tell me to go,"--she said with a +determinate quietness. + +"How can I let you stay?--you ought not to watch here all night--unless +there were something for you to do." + +"There may be something for me to do," she said, but not as if that +were what she wanted to stay for. + +"I think not," he said softly, and looking down again,--"Faith--it is +near the dawning!--and yet it may not be till the dawning. And dear +child, you ought not to watch here." + +"It will not hurt me," she said under her breath. + +"I know--" he said with a gentle admission of all her reasons and full +sympathy with all her wishes,--"but I think you ought not." + +"Do you mean," she said after a minute's pause,--"that you wish me to +go?" + +It was hard for him to say yes--but he did. + +She sat still a moment, with her face in the shade; then rose up and +arranged everything about the room which her hands could better; made a +cup of tea and brought it to Mr. Linden; and prepared herself for her +ride. When she came at last, ready, with only her hood to put on, her +face was almost as fair as Johnny's. There was no shadow on it of any +kind, but clear day, as if a reflection from the "city" she had been +looking towards. She put her hand in Mr. Linden's and knelt down as she +had done in the morning to kiss Johnny. Her lips trembled--but the +kisses were quietly given; and rising to her feet without speaking or +looking, Faith went away. + +If quietness was broken on the ride home, it was restored by the time +she got there; and with the same clear look Faith went in. That Mrs. +Derrick was much relieved to see her, was evident, but she seemed not +very ready to ask questions. She looked at Faith, and then with a +little sigh or two began softly to unfasten her cloak and furs, and to +put her in a comfortable place by the fire, and to hasten tea, but all +in a sort of sorrowful subdued silence; letting her take her own time +to speak, or not speak at all, if she liked it better. Faith's words +were cheerfully given, though about other things. And after tea she did +in some measure justify Mr. Linden's decision in sending her home; for +she laid herself on the couch in the sitting-room and went into a sleep +as profound and calm as the slumbers she had left watching. Her mother +sat by her in absolute stillness--thinking of Faith as she had been in +her childhood and from thence until now; thinking of the last time she +herself had been in that sick room, of the talk she had heard there--of +the silence that was there now: wiping away some tears now and +then--looking always at Faith with a sort of double feeling; that both +claimed her as a child, and was ready to sit at her feet and learn. But +as it came to the hour of bedtime, and Faith still slept, her mother +stooped down and kissed her two or three times to wake her up. + +"Pretty child," she said, "you'd better go to bed." + +Faith started with a recollective look and asked what time it was; then +sank down again. + +"I'll wait an hour yet." + +"Had you better?" her mother said gently. "I'll sit up, dear, and call +you if you're wanted. Did you think they'd send?" + +"Send?--O no, mother!" + +Mrs. Derrick was silent a minute. "Mr. Linden wouldn't come home +to-night, dear." + +"Wouldn't he?" said Faith startling; and for a minute the sorrowful +look came back to her face. But then it returned to its high quiet; she +kissed her mother and they went up stairs together. + +No, he did not come home,--and well assured that he would not, Faith +ceased to watch for him, and fatigue and exhaustion again had their +way. The night was very still--the endless train of stars sweeping on +in their appointed course, until the morning star rose and the day +broke. Even then Faith slept on. But when the more earthly light of the +sun came, with its bestirring beams, it roused her; and she started up, +in that mood where amid quick coming recollections she was almost +breathless for more tidings--waiting, as if by the least noise or stir +she might lose something. + +It was then that she heard Mr. Linden come in--even as she sat so +listening,--heard him come in and come up stairs, with a slow quiet +step that would have told her all, if the fact of his coming had not +been enough. She heard his door close, and then all was still again, +except what faint sounds she might hear from the working part of the +house below. Faith sat motionless till she could hear nothing more up +stairs--and then kept her position breathlessly for a second or two +longer, looking at the still sunbeams which came pouring into her room +according to their wont, with their unvarying heavenly message;--and +then gave way--rare for her--to a burst of gentle sorrow, that yet was +not all sorrow, and which for that very mingling was the more +heart-straitening while it lasted. The light of the fair clear Sunday +morning bore such strange testimony of the "everlasting day" upon which +her little charge of yesterday had even entered! But the sense of that +was quieting, if it was stirring. + +Not until the breakfast hour was fully come did Mr. Linden make his +appearance; but then he came, looking pale indeed, and somewhat worn, +yet with a face of rest. He gave his hand to Mrs. Derrick, and coming +up to Faith took her in his arms and kissed her, and gently put her in +her chair at the table; waiving all questions till another time. There +were none asked; Mrs. Derrick would not have ventured any; and the +tinge in Faith's cheeks gave token of only one of various feelings by +which she was silenced. Yet that was not a sorrowful breakfast--for +rest was on every brow, on two of them it was the very rest of the day +when Christ broke the bars of death and rose. + +Breakfast had been a little late, and there was not much time to spare +when it was over. + +"You had better not try to go out this morning, dear Faith," Mr. Linden +said as they left the table and came round the fire in the sitting-room. + +"O yes! I can go.--I _must_ go"--she added softly. + +"I have not much to tell you,"--he said in the same tone,--"nothing, +but what is most sweet and fair. Would you like to go up there with me +by and by?" + +"Yes.--After church?" + +"After church in the afternoon would give us most time." + +The Sunday classes were first met--_how_ was not likely to be forgotten +by scholars or teachers. It was an absorbing hour to Faith and her two +little children that were left to her; an hour that tried her very +much. She controlled herself, but took her revenge all church time. As +soon as she was where nobody need know what she did, Faith felt +unnerved, and a luxury of tears that she could not restrain lasted till +the service was over. It lasted no longer. And the only two persons +that knew of the tears, were glad to have them come. + +After the afternoon service, when people were not only out of church +but at home, Mr. Linden and Faith set out on their solitary drive--it +was too far for her to walk, both for strength and time,--the afternoon +was well on its way. + +The outer room into which Faith had first gone the day before, had a +low murmur of voices and a little sprinkling of people within; but Mr. +Linden let none of them stop her, and merely bowing as he passed +through, he led her on. In the next room were two of the boys, but they +went away at once; and Mr. Linden put his arm round Faith, letting her +lean all her weight on him if she chose, and led her up to the bedside. +They stood there and looked--as one might look at a ray of eternal +sunlight falling athwart the dark shadows of time. + +The child lay in his deep sleep as if Mr. Linden had just laid him +down; his head a little turned towards them, a little drooping, his +hands in their own natural position on breast and neck. A faint +pink-tinted wrapper lay in soft folds about him, with its white frills +at neck and wrists,--on his breast a bunch of the first snowdrops spoke +of the "everlasting spring, and never withering flowers!" + +With hearts and faces that grew every moment more quiet, more steady, +Johnny's two teachers stood and looked at him,--then knelt together, +and prayed that in the way which they had shewed him, they might +themselves be found faithful. + +"You shouldn't say _we_"--said Faith when they had risen and were +standing there again. "It was _you_--to him and me both." And bending +forward to kiss the little face again, she added, "He taught me as much +as he ever learned from me!" + +But the words were spoken with difficulty, and Faith did not try any +more. + +They stood there till the twilight began to fall, and then turned their +faces homewards with a strange mingling of joy and sorrow in their +hearts. How many times Mr. Linden went there afterwards Faith did not +know--she could only guess. + +There was no school for the next two days. Tuesday was white with +snow,--not falling thick upon the ground, but in fine light flakes, and +few people cared to be out. Mr. Linden had been, early in the +morning,--since dinner he had been in his room; and now as it drew +towards three o'clock, he came down and left the house, taking the road +towards that of Jonathan Fax. Other dark figures now appeared from time +to time, bending their steps in the same direction,--some sturdy farmer +in his fearnought coat, or two of the school-boys with their arms round +each other. Then this ceased, and the soft falling snow alone was in +the field. + +The afternoon wore on, and the sun was towards the setting, when a +faint reddish tinge began to flush along the western horizon, and the +snowflakes grew thinner. Then, just as the first sunbeams shot through +their cloudy prison, making the snow a mere white veil to their +splendour, the little carriage of Mr. Somers came slowly down the road, +and in it Mr. Somers himself. A half dozen of the neighbouring farmers +followed. Then the little coffin of Johnny Fax, borne by Reuben Taylor +and Sam Stoutenburgh and Phil Davids and Joe Deacon, each cap and left +arm bound with crape; followed by Johnny's two little +classmates--Charles Twelfth and Robbie Waters. Then the chief +mourners--Jonathan Fax and Mr. Linden, arm in arm, and Mr. Linden +wearing the crape badge. After them the whole school, two and two. The +flickering snowflakes fell softly on the little pall, but through them +the sunbeams shot joyously, and said that the child had gone-- + + "Through a dark stormy night, + To a calm land of light!"-- + + "Meet again? Yes, we shall meet again, + Though now we part in pain! + His people all + Together Christ shall call, + Hallelujah!" + + +"Child," said Mrs. Derrick in a choked voice, and wiping her eyes, when +the last one had long passed out of view, "it's good to see him and +Jonathan Fax walking together! anyway. I guess Jonathan 'll never say a +word against _him_ again. Faith, he's beautiful!" + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + + +It seemed to Faith as if the little shadow which February had brought +and left did not pass away--or rather, as if it had stretched on till +it met another; though whence that came, from what possible cloud, she +could not see. _She_ was not the cloud--that she knew and felt: if such +care and tenderness and attention as she had had all winter _could_ be +increased, then were they now,--every spare moment was given to her, +all sorts of things were undertaken to give her pleasure, and that she +was Mr. Linden's sunbeam was never more clear. Yet to her fancy that +shadow went out and came in with him--lived even in her presence,--nay, +as if she had been a real sunbeam, grew deeper there. And yet not +that,--what was it? The slight change of voice or face in the very +midst of some bright talk, the eyes that followed her about the room or +studied her face while she studied her lesson--she felt if she did not +see them,--even the increased unwillingness to have her out of his +sight,--what did they all mean? So constant, yet so intangible,--so +going hand in hand with all the clear, bright activity that had ever +been part of Mr. Linden's doings; while the pleasure of nothing seemed +to be checked, and yet a little pain mingled with all,--Faith felt +puzzled and grieved by turns. She bore it for a while, in wondering and +sorrowful silence, till she began to be afraid of the shadow's +spreading to her own face. Nay, she felt it there sometimes. Faith +couldn't stand it any longer. + +He had come in rather late one evening. It was a bleak evening in +March, but the fire--never more wanted--burned splendidly and lit up +the sitting-room in style. Before it, in the easy-chair, Mr. Linden sat +meditating. He might be tired--but Faith fancied she saw the shadow. +She came up behind his chair, put both hands on one of his shoulders +and leaned down. + +"Endecott"--she said in some of her most winning tones,--"may I ask you +something?" + +He came out of his muse instantly, and laying his hand on hers, asked +her "what she thought about it herself?" + +"I think I may, if you'll promise not to answer me--unless you have a +mind!" + +"_Do_ you suppose I would?" Mr. Linden said laughing. "What trust you +have in your own power!" + +"No, not a bit," said Faith. "Then shall I ask you?" + +"You are beginning to work upon my timid disposition!--of which I +believe I once told you. What are you going to ask me?--to challenge +Dr. Harrison?--or to run for President?" + +"Would you like to do either of those two things?" + +"I was only putting myself at your disposal--as I have done before." + +"Would you do either of 'em if I asked you?" said Faith softly. + +"I suppose I am safe in saying yes!" said Mr. Linden smiling. "Little +bird--why do you keep on the wing?" + +"I wanted to make sure of lighting in a right place," said Faith. +"Endy"--and her voice came back to the rich softness of the tones of +her first question, a little dashed with timidity,--"has anybody been +putting 'nonsense' into your head?" + +He lifted her hand from its resting place, bringing it round to his +cheek and lips at first in silence, + +"Do you know," he said, "that is just the point over which I thought +you were hovering?"--But the certainty had changed his tone. And rising +up quick and suddenly, he drew her off to the sofa and seated her +there, keeping his arm still about her as if for a shield. + +"Faith," he said, "do you remember that I promised some time to tell +you a long story?" + +She looked up into his face gravely and affectionately, reading his +look. "But you won't have time for it now, Endecott--tea will be ready +directly. We must wait till by and by." + +"My little Sunbeam," he said, looking at her and gently pushing back +her hair, "do you know I love you very much!--What made you think there +was anything in my head but the most profound and abstract sense?" + +Faith shook her head with a little bit of a smile. + +"I saw that you were growing either more sensible of late--or +_less_,--and I wanted to know which it was." + +"Please to explain yourself! How could I grow more sensible?--and in +what way did I grow less?" + +"I am talking nonsense," said Faith simply. "But if it _was_ sense in +your head, Endy, there was a little too much of it; and I had seen +nonsense look so--so I wanted to know." + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said, "you remind me often of that Englishman +Madame D'Arblay tells about,--who to the end of his life declared that +his wife was the most beautiful sight in the world to him! Do you know +I think he will have a successor?" + +Her colour rose bright, and for a minute she looked down at her +diamonds. Then looked up demurely, and asked who Madame D'Arblay was? + +"She was an English woman, an authoress, a maid of honour to the Queen. +Do you wish to know anything about the other two persons I alluded to?" + +One sparkling flash of Faith's soft eye, was all she gave him. "No, I +don't think I do," she said. + +"You know enough already?--or too much? Faith--are Christmas roses to +be in season all the year round?" + +"I don't know,--but tea is. Suppose I go and see about it--Monsieur?" + +"Eh bien--Mademoiselle," he said gravely but holding her +fast,--"suppose you do!" + +"Then we should have it." + +"Undoubtedly, Mademoiselle! Vous avez raison." + +"And what have you?" said Faith laughing. + +"I have _you!_--Love and Reason did meet once, you know." + +"Did they?" said Faith looking up. "How should I know?" + +"You never found it out in your own personal experience?" + +"You say it's a fact," said Faith. "I thought you referred to it as a +former fact." + +"Like tea--" said Mr. Linden. + +"Like tea, Endecott!--what are you talking of?" + +"Former facts."-- + +"I wonder what I shall get you to-night, Endecott"--she said merrily +twisting round to look at him,--"you must want something! Is a thing +properly said to be former, as long as it is still present?" + +"What is present?" + +"Tea isn't past"--said Faith with another little flash of her eye. + +"If you are going to set up for Reason," said Mr. Linden, "there is no +more to be done; but as for me, I may as well submit to my fate. +Shakspeare says, 'To love, and to be wise, exceeds man's might.'" + +"I don't think I set up for reason," said Faith,--"only for tea; and +you obliged me to take reason instead. I guess--Shakspeare was right." + +"Unquestionably!" said Mr. Linden laughing. "Faith, did you ever hear +of 'Love in a Cottage'?" + +"I believe I have." + +"I hope you don't think that includes tea?" + +"I never thought it included much good," said Faith. "I always thought +it was something foolish." + +"There spoke Reason!" said Mr. Linden,--"and I shall not dare to speak +again for ten minutes. Faith, you will have time to meditate." And his +eyes went to the fire and staid there. Faith meditated--or waited upon +his meditations; for her eyes now and then sought his face somewhat +wistfully to see if she could read what he was thinking of--which yet +she could not read. But her exploring looks in that direction were too +frequent to leave room for the supposition that Reason made much +progress. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said, suddenly intercepting one of these looks, +"now let us compare results--before we meditate any further. What have +you to shew?" + +"Nothing"--said Faith frankly. + +"I on my part have made a great discovery, which will perhaps answer +for us both. It is very simple, as most great discoveries are, being +merely this: that I prefer other things than reproofs from the lips of +Reason. Will you have an illustration?" + +"Can't I understand without?" said Faith laughing, but with also a +little rising colour. And very smilingly she had her answer--the only +answer she could expect. + +"I believe you are principled against saying yes!" said Mr. Linden. +"The most encouraging thing you ever said to me was 'Oh no!'" + +What swift recollection, what quick sympathy with that time, spoke in +the crimson of Faith's cheeks! It was something to see "the eloquent +blood." Eyes were not to be seen. Mr. Linden smiled, touching his hand +softly to her cheeks. + +"O Mignonette!" he said--"or I should rather say, O Roses! or O +Carnation! Is there anything beyond that in your Flora?" + +In the emergency Faith took possession of the hand that invaded her +carnations and turning the full display upon him asked if he would not +like to have something more substantial. Apparently "the display" was +approved, though there were no words to that effect. + +"I suppose I must let you go," he said, "because if we are to study all +the evening after tea, it will not do to talk away the whole evening +before. You shall choose your own time for hearing my story, dear +child--only let me know when the time comes." + +There was no shadow upon the tea hour, on Faith's part, nor on the +hours of study that followed. The wind swept round the house, March +fashion, but the fire and the open books laughed at him. There seemed +even a little more than usual of happy gayety in Faith's way of going +through her work; she and the fire played at which should get ahead of +the other; and between whiles she was obliged to use a little caution +to obviate Mr. Linden's surprise at finding how far she was getting +ahead of herself. For Faith's early morning studies were not now by any +means confined to the lessons he set for her and expected her to do; +her object and endeavour was to prevent his requirements, and so +prepare the ground _before_ his teachings that without finding out how +it came to be so ready, he should simply occupy more of it and +cultivate higher. It was rather a nice matter! not to let him see that +she had done too much, and yet to make him know that he might take what +harvests he pleased off the ground; with such keen eyes too, that knew +so well all the relative forces of soil and cultivation and could +estimate so surely the fruits of both. Faith managed by not managing at +all and by keeping very quiet, as far as possible shewing him nothing +he did not directly or indirectly call for; but sometimes she felt she +was grazing the edge of discovery, which the least lifting of the veil +of Mr. Linden's unsuspiciousness would secure. She felt it to-night, +and the fire and she had one or two odd little consultations. Just what +Mr. Linden was consulting with himself about at those times, she did +not know; but she half fancied it was something. Once the fire called +her off at the end of a lesson, and when she came back to the table he +had the next book open; but it was not till this set of questions and +answers and explanations was half through, that Faith discovered he had +opened the book at a different place from the one where it had been +closed the day before,--then it suddenly flashed upon her; but whether +it had been by accident, or of intent, she did not know. + +One last consultation Faith held with the fire while Mrs. Derrick was +gathering her work together to go to bed. Then she brought a low seat +to Mr. Linden's feet. "Now, Endy,--I am ready." A little smile--a soft, +lingering touch upon her forehead, came with his words. + +"My little Mignonette, what do you suppose I came to Pattaquasset for?" + +She looked rather wondering at him, and then said, "I supposed--to +teach the school." + +"Yes, but to what end?--I mean in my intent. I know now what I came +for, in one sense," he said, securing one of her hands. + +"Why--Endecott, do you want me to tell you?" + +"If you know or guess." + +"I don't know nor guess anything. I supposed merely that you did that +as other people do other things--and for the same reason." + +"It was for a very commonplace reason," Mr. Linden said, watching her +face with two or three things at work in his own: "it was to get money +to finish my studies for your favourite profession." + +"My favourite profession!--Which do you mean?" + +"Have you forgotten Miss Essie's question? I have not--nor the dear +child who was so unwilling to answer it." + +Faith's mind went back to Miss Essie, the question and answer,--and +took the round of the subject,--and even as she did so her face +changed, a sort of grave light coming into it, + +"Do you mean _that_, Endy?" she said half under her breath. + +"I mean that, and no other." + +The light brightened and deepened--her colour flushed like a morning +sky,--till at last the first sunbeam struck athwart her face, in the +shape of a smile. It was not a lip smile--it was on eye and brow and +lip and cheek together. Mr. Linden bent down by her, lifting her face +to meet his eyes, which through all their intentness smiled too. + +"Faith, I want to hear every word of that." + +"Of what?" + +"Of all that is in your mind and face just now." + +Her two little answering sentences evidently only gave the key of very +deep tones. + +"I think it is good, Endy. I am glad." + +"I thought you would be. But that does not satisfy me, dear Faith--I +want you to say to me all the different things that your thoughts were +saying to you. You are not afraid of me at this time of day?" he said +bringing her face closer. + +"I have nothing to say I need be afraid to say," Faith answered +slowly,--"but it is hard to disentangle so many thoughts. I was +thinking it is such great and high work--such happy work--and such +honour--and then that you will do it right, Endecott--" she +hesitated.--"How could I help but be glad?" + +"Do you like your new prospective position, little Sunbeam?" + +A deep colour came over her face, and the eyes fell Yet Faith folded +her hands and spoke. + +"I was glad to think--" She got so far, but the sentence was never +finished. + +"Glad to think what, dear child?" + +Faith glanced up. She did not want to answer. Then she said with the +greatest simplicity, "I am glad if I may do something." + +"Glad that I should realize my ideal?" Mr. Linden said with a smile, +and softly bringing her face round again. "Faith, do you know what a +dear little 'minister's wife' you will make?--Mignonette is so suitable +for a parsonage!--so well calculated to impress the people with a +notion of the extreme grave propriety which reigns there! For is not +Mignonette always sweet, demure, and never--by any chance!--high +coloured?" + +She would not let her face be held up. It went down upon her lap--into +her hands, which she pressed close to hide it. + +"Oh Endecott!--" she said desperately.--"You'll have to call me +something else." + +"O Faith!" was his smiling reply,--"I will, just so soon as I can. +Don't you want to come over to the sofa and hear the rest of my story?" + +"Your story! Oh yes!"-- + +And first having a sympathizing interview with the fire, Faith went +over to the sofa and sat down; but hid her face no more. Much as he had +done before tea, Mr. Linden came and sat down by her,--with the same +sort of gentle steadiness of manner, as if some strong thread of +feeling had wrapped itself round an equally deep thread of +purpose,--his gay talk now as then finding always some contrast in his +face. But of this Faith had seen little or nothing--her eyes had not +been very free to look. She did notice how silently he stood by her as +she put the fire in order, she did notice the look that rested on her +as she took her seat, but then he began his story and she could thing +of nothing else. + +"It was given to me, dear Faith," he said, "to spend my boyhood in an +atmosphere more like the glow of that firelight than anything I can +compare it to, for its warmth and radiance; where very luxurious +worldly circumstances were crowned with the full luxury of earthly +love. But it was a love so heaven-directed, so heaven-blessed, that it +was but the means of preparing me to go out into the cold alone. That +was where I learned to love your diamonds," he added, taking the +jewelled hand in his,--"when I used to see them not more busy among +things of literature and taste, than in all possible ministrations to +the roughest and poorest and humblest of those whom literature +describes and taste shrinks from!--But I used to think," he said +speaking very low, "that the ring was never so bright, nor so quick +moving, as when it was at work for me." + +Faith's eye fell with his to the diamonds. She was very still; the +flash all gone. + +"That time of my life," Mr. Linden presently went on, "was passed +partly in Europe and partly here. We came home just after I had +graduated from a German University, but before I went away +again--almost everything I had in the world went from me." He was +silent for a little, drawing Faith's head down upon his shoulder and +resting his lightly upon it, till she felt what she was to him. Then he +looked up and spoke quietly as before. + +"Pet and I were left alone. A sister of my father's was very anxious to +take her, but Pet would not hear of it, and so for a year we lived +together, and when I went to the Seminary she went too,--living where I +lived, and seeing what she could of me between times. It was not very +good for her, but it was the best we could do then. I suppose there was +some mismanagement on the part of my father's executors--or some +complication in his affairs, I need not trouble you with details; but +we were left without much more than enough to give her the income I +wished her to have for her own private use. Of course I would not touch +that for our joint expenses. But until a year ago we did still live +together--by various means. Then this sister of my father's set her +heart upon taking Pet with her to Europe--and I set mine almost as +much; I could better bear to live alone, than to have her; and her life +then amounted to that. And so between us both she consented--very +unwillingly; and she went to Italy, and I studied as long as I had ways +and means, and then came here to get more. So you see, dear child," Mr. +Linden said with a smile, "it is not my fortune I have asked you to +share, but my fortunes." + +She gave him a smile, as bright and free as the glancing of a star; +then her look went away again. And it was a good little while before +perhaps she dared speak--perhaps before she wanted to speak. So very +steady and still her look and herself were, it said that they covered +thoughts too tender or too deep to be put into words. And the +thoughtfulness rather deepened as minutes rolled on--and a good many of +them rolled on, and still Faith did not speak. Mr. Linden's watch +ticked its remarks unhindered. Words came at last. + +"Endecott--you said something about 'means' for study. How much means +does it want?--and how much study?" The interest at work in the +question was deeper than Faith meant to shew, or knew she shewed. + +He told her the various expenses, ordinary and contingent, in few +words, and was silent a moment. But then drawing her close to him, with +that same sort of sheltering gesture she had noticed before, he went on +to answer her other question; the voice and manner giving her a perfect +key to all the grave looks she had mused over. + +"Do you remember, dear Faith, that I once called you 'a brave little +child'?" + +"Yes." + +"You must be that now," he said gently,--"you and I must both be brave, +and cheerful, and full of trust. Because, precious child, I have two +years' work before me--and the work cannot be done here." + +She looked in his face once, and was silent;--what her silence covered +could only be guessed. But it lasted a little while. + +"It must be done at that place where you were with your sister?" + +"Yes, little Mignonette, it must be done there." + +"And when must you begin the work, Endecott?" If the words cost her +some effort, it only just appeared. + +"I came for a year, dear Faith--and I ought not to stay much beyond +that." + +Faith mentally counted the months, in haste, with a pang; but the +silence did not last long this time. Her head left its resting place +and bending forward she looked up into Mr. Linden's face, with a sunny +clear look that met his full. It was not a look that could by any means +be mistaken to indicate a want of other feeling, however. One might as +soon judge from the sunshine gilding on the slope of a mountain that +the mountain is made of tinsel. + +"Endecott--is that what has been the matter with you?" + +She needed no answer but his look, though that was a clear as her own. + +"I could easier bear it if _I_ could bear the whole," he said. "But you +can understand that Dr. Harrison's proposal tried, though it did not +tempt me." + +She scarce gave a thought to that. + +"There is one thing more I wanted to ask. Will there be--" she paused, +and went on,--"no time at all that you can be here?" + +"Dear Faith!" he said kissing her, "do you think I could bear that? How +often I shall be able to come I cannot quite tell, but come I +shall--from time to time, if I live. And in the meanwhile we must make +letters do a great deal." + +Her face brightened. She sat quietly looking at him. + +"Will that shadow come any more,--now that you have told me?" + +"I will give you leave to scold me, if you see it," Mr. Linden said, +answering her smile,--"I ought not to be in shadow for a minute--with +such a sunbeam in my possession. Although, although!--do you know, +little bright one, that the connexion between sunbeams and shadows is +very intimate? and very hard to get rid of?" + +"Shall I talk to you about 'nonsense' again?"--she said half lightly, +resting her hand on his arm and looking at him. Yet behind her light +tone there was a great tenderness. + +"You may--and I will plead guilty. But in which of the old classes of +'uncanny' folk will you put me?--with those who were known by their +having no shadow, or with those who went always with two?" + +"So I suppose one must have a _little_ shadow, to keep from being +uncanny!" + +"You and I will not go upon that understanding, dear Faith." + +Faith did not look like one who had felt no shadow; rather perhaps she +looked like one who had borne a blow; a look that in the midst of the +talk more than once brought to Mr. Linden's mind a shadowy remembrance +of her as she was after they got home that terrible evening; but her +face had a gentle brightness now that then was wanting. + +"I don't know"--she said wistfully in answer to his last +words.--"Perhaps it is good. I dare say it is, for me. It is a shame +for me to remind you of anything--but don't you know, Endecott--'all +things are ours'? _both_ 'things present and things to come?'" And her +eye looked up with a child's gravity, and a child's smile. + +Bear it alone?--yes, he could have done that--as he had borne other +things,--it tried him to see her bear it. It touched him to see that +look come back--to see any tempering of the bright face she had worn so +long. Faith hardly knew perhaps with what eyes he had watched her +through all the conversation, eyes none the less anxious for the smile +that met hers so readily; she hardly guessed what pain her bright +efforts at keeping up, gave him. To shelter and gladden her life was +the dearest delight of his; and just now duty thwarted him in both +points. And he knew--almost better than she did--how much she depended +on him. He looked down at her for a moment with a face of such grave +submission as Faith had never seen him wear. + +"My dear little child!" he said. But that sentence was let stand by +itself. The next was spoken differently. "I do know it, dear +Faith,--and yet you do well to remind me. I need to be kept up to the +mark. And it is not more true that each day has sufficient evil, than +that each has sufficient good--if it be only sought out. There cannot +much darkness live in the light of those words." + +"How far have you to go," she said with demure archness,--"to find the +good of these days?" + +"You are quick at conclusions"--said Mr. Linden,--"how far do you think +it is between us at present?" + +"Endecott"--she said gravely--"it will never be further!" + +He laughed a little--with a half moved half amused expression, wrapping +her up like some dainty piece of preciousness. "Because every day that +I am away will bring us nearer together? I suppose that is good +measurement." + +"You know," she said, "you have told me two things to-night, Endecott; +and if one makes me sorry, the other makes me glad." + +"I was sure of that!--And it is such great, great pleasure to think of +the times of coming back--and of leaving you work to do, and of writing +to you about it,--and then of finding out how well it is done! You must +keep my books for me, Mignonette--mine, I say!--they are as much yours +as mine--and more." + +"Your books?"--she said with a flush. + +"Yes--there are but a few of these that I shall want with me,--the most +of _my_ study books I did not bring here." + +"But won't you want these with you?" + +"As far from that as possible. Do you think you could make up your mind +to let me tell Reuben a secret?--and give him a reason for being even +more devoted to you than he is now?" + +She coloured very brightly again. "I am willing--if you wish it. Why, +Endecott?" + +"The chief reason is, that I do not wish to lose any of your letters, +nor have you lose any of mine. And small postoffices are not so safe as +large ones, nor are their managers proverbially silent. I should like +to make Reuben a sort of intermediate office." + +"And send your letters to him?" + +"Yes. Would you mind that?" + +"And my letters?" + +"And yours in like manner, little Mignonette. He could either enclose +them to me, or put them in some neighbouring office,--I think Reuben +would enjoy an eight miles walk a day, taken for me. Or you could hide +your envelope with another, and let him direct that. You need not be +afraid of Reuben,"--Mr. Linden said smiling,--"you might give him forty +letters without his once daring to look at you." + +"But I thought--you said--he was going to college next summer?" + +"That was talked of, but I think he will stay another year at home, and +then enter a higher class. It will save expense, and he will be longer +with his father. Reuben and I hope to be brother ministers, one day, +Faith." + +"Do you! Does he!"--said Faith astonished. "That is good! I am glad of +it. But what will _he_ do for money, Endecott?" + +"We shall see--part of the way is clear, so we may hope the rest will +be. Perhaps I may let him do some of his studying with me. Do you think +you would object to that?" + +"Object to it! How could I? What do you mean, Endecott?" + +"O little Mignonette!" he said smiling, "how sweet you are!--and what +joy it would be to see you wear the only title I can give you! Don't +you know, pretty child, that if I gave Reuben Hebrew you might be +called upon to give him--tea!" + +Faith's eyes went down and her colour mounted, and mounted. But her +next remark was extremely collected. "How good it was Dr. Harrison's +money came!"-- + +"I believe you stipulated that we were to have tea ourselves," said Mr. +Linden, "but the question remains whether you would dispense it to any +one else." + +Faith was only restrained from covering her face again by the feeling +that it would be foolish; and withal a little laughter could not be +prevented. She did shield one side of her face with her hand, and +leaning upon it looked into the fire for suggestions. Finally answered +sedately, "I should think you and he might have it together!" + +"Have it--yes, if we could get it; but I am ignorant of any but the +chemical properties of milk and sugar." + +"I thought you said you knew cream when you saw it!" said Faith from +behind her shield. + +"That is knowing its appearance--not its properties, Miss Reason." + +"What does reason want to know more, for a cup of tea?" + +"But you have declared once to-night that I am not Reason," said Mr. +Linden laughing. "For instance--I once made the sudden acquaintance of +a particular person, who made as sudden an impression on my +mind,--after those three minutes I should have known her by sight (like +cream) to the end of my life. But I went on trying experiments--(as one +might taste successive drops of cream) finding out more and more +sweetness each time; until (like cream again) I discovered that she was +perfectly indispensable to my cup of tea!" + +Faith bowed her glad little head, laughing, though feeling much deeper +was at work. + +"After this," she said, "I shall always be greatly at a loss what you +are thinking of when you are looking at me." + +"Will your reflections be carried on with such a face?" said Mr. +Linden. "Do you remember that afternoon, Faith?--when I so nearly laid +hold of you--and you wanted to laugh, and did not dare?" + +"What afternoon?"-- + +"The one wherein I first had the pleasure of seeing you. How demurely +you eyed me!--and wondered in your little sensible heart what sort of a +person I could possibly be!" + +"How did you know I wondered?" said Faith colouring. + +"By your very gentle, modest, and fearful examinations, your evident +musings over my words, and the bright look now and then that told of +progress." + +Faith laughed. + +"You made me begin to think and wish immediately," she said.--"It was +no wonder I wondered." + +"Yes, and how I longed to give you your wish, so far as I could,--and +how afraid I was to offer my services,--and how you would persist in +thanking me for pleasing myself, do you remember, little Sunbeam?--and +your fright when I asked about Prescott?" + + +She looked up with the prettiest, rosiest remembrance of it all; and +then her face suddenly changed, and turning from him she shielded it +again with her hand, but not to hide the rosy colour this time. Mr. +Linden drew her close to him, resting his face upon her other cheek at +first without words. + +"Dear child!" he said,--"my own little Mignonette!--you must not forget +what you said to me,--and you must not forget that I hope to come home +quite often. There was a time, when I thought I might have to go away +and never have the right to come and see you again. And you must think +to yourself--though you will not speak of it to me--that after this bit +of time, all our life will be spent together. You need not expect me to +wait for anything--not even the cottage you like so much." + +She did not answer immediately, as was natural, his last suggestions +not being very word-provoking with her. But when she did speak, it was +in a clear, cheerful tone. + +"I'll bear my part, Endy--I should be very ungrateful if I couldn't. +And you can bear your part--I am glad to think of that!--for you are +working for a Master that always gives full pay." + +"We can always bear God's will," he said, a little gravely,--"it is +only our own that points the trial and makes it unbearable." + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + + +Faith had no chance to think that night. She went to sleep +conscientiously. And a chance the next morning was out of the question. +She dared not come down as early as usual, if her own strength would +have let her. The few minutes before breakfast were busy ones; and the +few hours after breakfast. Faith went about with the consciousness of +something on her heart to be looked at; but it had to bide its time. +Her household duties done, her preparations for Mr. Linden being +already in advance, she had leisure to attend to this other thing. And +alone Faith sat down and looked at it. + +It was the first real steady trial her life had known. Her father's +death had come when she was too young to feel deeply any want that her +mother could not fill. To be away from anything she much loved was a +sorrow Faith hardly knew by experience. But a two years' separation was +a very, very heavy and sharp pain to think of; and Faith had an inward +assurance that the reality would be heavier and sharper than her +thoughts beforehand could make it. Perhaps it was too great a pain to +be struggled with; for Faith did not struggle--or not long. She sat +down and looked at it,--what she had not dared to do the night +before;--measured it and weighed it; and then bowed her heart and head +to it in utter submission. With it came such a crowd of glad and good +things, things indeed that made the trial and were bound up with +it,--that Faith locked the one and the other up in her heart together. +And remembering too the sunshine of joy in which she had lately lived, +she humbly confessed that some check might be needed to remind her and +make her know that earth has not the best sunshine, and that any gain +would be loss that turned her eyes away from that best, or lessened her +sense of its brightness. + +So there came no shadow over her at all, either that day or afterwards. +The clear light of her face was not clouded, and her voice rung to the +same tune. There was no shadow, nor shade of a shadow. There _was_ a +little subdued air; a little additional gravity, a trifle more of +tenderness in her looks and ways, which told of the simpleness of heart +with which she had quietly taken what God gave and was content with it. + +To Mr. Linden the trial was not new, and to sorrow of various kinds he +was wonted; but it was new to him to see her tried, and to that he +found it hard to accustom himself. Yet he carried out his words,--Faith +could feel a sort of atmosphere of bright strength about her all the +time. How tenderly she was watched and watched over she could partly +see, but pain or anxiety Mr. Linden kept to himself. He set himself to +work to make her enjoy every minute. Yet he never shunned the subject +of his going away,--he let her become used to the sound of the words, +and to every little particular connected with it--they were all told +her by degrees; but told with such bright words of hope and trust, that +Faith took the pain as it were diluted. + +Before all this had gone far--indeed not many days after the first +telling of his story, Faith had come down as usual one early morning to +her work. She had been down about an hour, when she heard the door open +and Mr. Linden came in. He had two seconds' view of the picture before +she rose up to meet him. There was no lamp yet burning in the room. A +fire of good hard wood threw its light over everything, reflected back +from the red curtains which fell over the windows. In the very centre +of the glow, Faith sat on a low cushion, with her book on a chair. She +was dressed exactly, for nicety, as if she might have been going to +Judge Harrison's to tea. And on the open pages, and on Faith's bright +hair, edging her ruffles, and warming up her brown dress, was the soft +red fall of the firelight. She rose up immediately with her usual glad +look, behind which lay a doubtful surmising as to his errand. It was on +her lips to ask what had brought him down so early, but she was +prudently silent. He came forward quick and quietly, according to his +wont, not at all as if she were about anything unusual, and giving her +one of those greetings which did sometimes betray the grave feeling he +kept so well in hand, he brought her back to the fire. + +"Little bird," he said, "what straws are you weaving in at present?" + +"I don't know. Not any--unless thoughts." + +"Will it please you to state what you are doing?" + +"I was reading. I had just got to the end of the story of Moses +blessing Israel. I was thinking of these words--" and she took up her +book and shewed him. "Happy art thou, O Israel, saved of the Lord, the +shield of thy help, and who is the sword of thy excellency." + +"Did you ever look out any of the answering passages in other parts of +the Bible?" + +"Not often. I don't know them. Once in a while I think of one. And then +they are so beautiful!" + +Mr. Linden took the book from her hand, turning from place to place and +reading to her. + +"'Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in +the Lord his God: which made heaven, and earth, the sea, and all that +therein is: which keepeth truth forever.' That is what David +said,--then hear how Isaiah answers--'Behold, God is my salvation; I +will trust, and not be afraid: for the LORD JEHOVAH is my strength and +my song; he also is become my salvation.'--And again--'Israel shall be +saved in the Lord with an everlasting salvation: ye shall not be +ashamed nor confounded, world without end.'" + +Faith drew a little quick breath. + +"Doesn't it seem," she said, "as if words were heaped on words to +prevent our being afraid?" + +"I think it really is so; till we have a shield of promises as well as +protection. After Abraham had gone out of his own country, 'not knowing +whither he went', 'the word of the Lord came to him, saying, Fear not, +Abraham, I am thy shield and thy exceeding great reward.' Then David +takes that up and expatiates upon it,--finding in it 'both things +present and things to come,' dear Faith." + +"'For the Lord God is a sun and a shield: the Lord will give grace and +glory: no good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly. O +Lord of hosts, blessed is the man that trusteth in thee.'" + +She looked down at the words, then up at him with a glad, sunshiny +light in her eyes. Her comment on the whole was heartfelt, and +comprehensive. "How good it was you came down this morning!" + +"Would you like to have me come every morning?" + +"Oh how much!--But that's no use, Endecott." + +"Why not?" + +"I mustn't get to depending upon you too much," she said with a smile. + +"What had you been musing about--to make you so glad this morning?" he +said looking at her. + +"Nothing!--but those passages as you read them one after the other were +so beautiful, and felt so strong.--It was a great pleasure to hear you +read them,"--she said dropping her voice a little in confession. + +"It shall be as you like, darling, about my coming again. But dear +Faith, of this other morning work you must let me say a word." + +"What, Endecott?" + +"You are doing too much." + +"No. What makes you think so?" + +Significantly Mr. Linden laid his hand on the pile of study books. + +"Well?" + +"Well.--For the future please to let these gentry rest in peaceful +seclusion until after breakfast." + +"Oh no, Endy!" + +"My dear, I shall have you turning into a moonbeam. Just imagine what +it would cost me to call you 'pale Cynthia'!" + +"You needn't imagine it, Endecott." + +"Only so far as to prevent the reality. Do you know I have been afraid +of this for some time." + +"Of what?" + +"Afraid that you were disregarding the bounds I have laid down for +study and the sun for sleep." + +"I didn't know you had laid down any bounds," she said gaily +again--"and I never did mind the sun." + +"Well won't you mind me?" said he smiling. "I have a right to expect +that in study matters, you know." + +"Don't try me--" said Faith, very winningly, much more than she knew. +He stood looking at her, with the sweet unbent expression which was her +special right. + +"Faith, don't you mean to love to have me take care of you?" + +That brought a change of look, and it was curious to see the +ineffectual forces gather to veil what in spite of them wreathed in her +smile and laid an additional roseleaf upon each cheek. The shy eyes +retreated from view; then they were raised again as she touched his arm +and said, with a demure softness, "What must I do, Endy?" + +"Be content with the old study hours, my dear child. They are long +enough, and many enough." + +"Oh Endy!--not for me." + +"For thee." + +Faith looked down and looked disturbed. + +"Then, Endecott, I sha'n't be as wise as I want to be,--nor as you want +to have me." + +"Then you will be just as wise as I want you to be," he said with a +smile. "As to the rest, pretty child,--do you mean that my wife shall +deprive me of my scholar?" + +Faith turned away and said rather quickly, "Endy, how did you know?" + +"From some lesson evidence. And I always hear you come down--and whiles +I see a face at breakfast which has not lately come from rest." + +Faith's secret thought was that it was better than rest. But after +folding her hands with a grave face, she looked up at Mr. Linden with a +smile which yielded the whole question. + +"To prove to you what a naughty child you have been," said Mr. Linden, +"I shall give you an increase of outdoor lessons, and take you off on +an expedition the first mild day. On which occasion you may study +me--if you have any of Miss Essie's curiosity." + +"Don't I?" said Faith. "And I am going to do it more. What expedition +are you going on, Endecott?" + +"Up to Kildeer river--I have business there. Will you trust yourself to +me in a boat--if I will let you steer?" + +"I'll do anything to go," said Faith. "And I suppose if I steered +wrong, the helm would come about pretty quick!" And so ended her last +early morning studies. + +It was in the afternoon of the same day that Faith put in practice what +she had been thinking of when she avowed her determination of further +studying Mr. Linden. He had come home from school, and it was the dusky +hour again; the pleasant interregnum between day and night when even +busy folk take a little time to think and rest. Mr. Linden was +indulging in both apparently; he was in one of those quiet times of +doing nothing which Faith chose for making any of her very gentle +attacks upon him. One seemed to be in meditation now. She stole up +behind him and leaned down on the back of his chair, after her wont. + +"Endecott"--she said softly. + +Faith's voice was in ordinary a pleasant thing to hear; but this name +from her lips was always a concretion of sweetness, flavoured +differently as the case might be. Sometimes with mere gladness, +sometimes with the spirit of fun, often enough with a little timidity, +and sometimes with a rose-drop from the very bottom of her heart's +well; with various compounds of the same. But this time it was more +than timidity; Faith's one word was spoken as from lips that were +positively afraid to follow it with others. + +"That note," said Mr. Linden smiling, "seems to come from the top of a +primeval pine tree--with a hawk in sight! Little bird, will you please +come down into the lower regions of air?--where you can be +(comparatively) safe." + +Faith laughed; but the hawk remained in sight--of her words. + +"You said this morning I never asked you any but impossible things." + +"Most sorrowfully true!--have you another one ready?" + +"If I ask you something possible, what will you do?" she said, softly +touching the side of his head with her hand. It was Faith's utmost +freedom; a sort of gentle admiring touch of her fingers which the thick +locks of hair felt hardly more than a spider's feet. + +"That depends so much upon the thing!" he said, half turning to give +her the look which belonged to his words. "There are such a variety of +ways in which I might deal with it--and with you." + +"I am not going to ask you anything but what would be right." + +"You do not doubt that my answer will be conformable?" + +"Yes I do. It will be your 'right,' but it may not be my 'right,' you +know." + +"If you get what is not your right, you ought to be contented," said +Mr. Linden. + +"Now you have turned me and my meaning round! Endecott--you know Aunt +Dilly gave me something?--mayn't I--won't you let me lend it to you?" + +Very low and doubtfully the words came out! But if Faith had any more +to say, she had little chance for a while. One quick look round at her +Mr. Linden gave, but then he sprang up and came to where she stood, +lifting her face and giving her her "right" in one sense at least. +Other answer he made none. + +"Endy--have I asked a possible thing this time?" she said under breath. + +"My precious child!--Do you think it possible?" + +"It ought to be possible, Endecott." And if ever an humble suggestion +of a possibility was made, Faith made it then. + +"I shall have to go back to my first answer," said Mr. Linden,--"I have +no words for any other. Faith, dearest--don't you know that it is not +needful? Will that content you, little sweet one?" + +A soft "no." + +"Why not?" he said, making good his threat. "What do you want me to +have more than I need?" + +"I fear the ways you will take to make that true. I should think you +might, Endecott!"--The ellipsis was not hard to supply. + +"I shall not take any unlawful means--nor any unwise ones, I hope," he +said lightly. "What are you afraid I shall do?" + +"Get up early in the morning," she whispered. + +"But that is so pleasant! Do you suppose I get up late now, little +bird?" + +"Not late, with breakfast at seven. How early do you?" + +"Philosophically early! Do you know you have not had your poem +to-day?--what shall it be? sunrise or sunset?" + +"Which you please," she said gently, with the tone of a mind upon +something else. Mr. Linden looked down at her in silence for a minute. + +"Dear Faith," he said, "I told you truly that there is no need. This +year's work has done quite as much as I thought it would. What are you +afraid of?" + +"I am not afraid of much," she said, looking up at him now with a clear +brow. "But Endy, I have changed my mind about something. Could you +easily come down and read with me a little while every morning?--or are +you busy?" + +"I am never too busy to spend time with you, my child,--that is one +piece of pleasure I shall always allow myself. At what hour shall I +come?" + +"At six o'clock, can you?" said Faith. "If you gave me a quarter of an +hour then, I should still have time enough for breakfast work. This +morning I was afraid--but I was foolish. This evening I want all I can +get. And when you read me a _ladder of verses_ again," she said +smiling, "I shall mark them in my Bible, and then I shall have them by +and by--when you are gone." + +"Yes, and I can send you more. It is good to go up a ladder of Bible +verses when one is afraid--or foolish," he said gently and answering +her smile. "One end of it always rests on earth, within reach of the +weakest and weariest." + +"That is just it! Oh Endy," she said, clasping her hands sadly and +wishfully before her and her eyes tilling as she spoke--"I wish there +were more people to tell people the truth!" + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + + +It was a fair, fair May morning when Mr. Linden and Faith set forth on +their expedition to Kildeer river. After their early rising and early +breakfast, they took their way down to the shore of the Mong, where the +little sail-boat lay rocking on the incoming tide, her ropes and +streamers just answering to the morning breeze. The soft spring +sunlight glinted on every tree and hillside. The "Balm of a Thousand +Flowers"--true and not spurious--was sprinkled through the air, under +the influence of which unseen nectar the birds became almost +intoxicated with joy; pouring out their songs with a sort of +spendthrift recklessness,--the very fish caught the infection, and +flashed and sparkled in the blue water by shoals at a time. + +In the sailboat now stood baskets and shawls, a book or two, an empty +basket for wild flowers, and by the tiller sat Faith--invested with her +new dignity but not yet instructed therein. Mr. Linden stood on the +shore, with the boat's detaining rope in his hand, looking about him as +if he had a mind to take the good of things as he went along. Up the +hill from the shore, trotted Jerry and Mr. Skip. + +"Endecott," said Faith joyously,--"Goethe would have more than enough +if he was here." + +She was not a bad part of the picture herself; fair and glad as she +looked, as fair as the May morning and the birds and the sunlight.-- + +"Isn't this air sweet?" + +"Very! But Goethe would choose my point of view. So much depends, in a +picture, upon the principal light!" + +"I wonder which is the principal light to-day!" said Faith laughing. +"How it sparkles all over the river, and then on the young leaves and +buds;--and then soft shining on the clouds. And they are all May! Look +at those tiny specks of white cloud scattered along the horizon, up +there towards Neanticut." + +"The principal light to-day," said Mr. Linden, "is one particular +sunbeam, which as it were leads off the rest. It's a fair train, +altogether!" and he threw the rope into the little vessel, and jumped +in himself; then lifting Faith a little from her place, and arranging +and disposing of her daintily among shawls and cushions, and putting +her unwonted fingers upon the tiller. + +"Now Miss Derrick," he said, "before we go any further, I should like +to know your estimate and understanding of the power at present in your +hands." + +"I know what a rudder is good for," said Faith merrily. "I know that +this ship, 'though it be so great, and driven of fierce winds, yet is +it turned about with a very small helm whithersoever the governor +listeth.' That is what you may call theoretical knowledge." + +"Clearly your estimate covers the ground! But you perceive, that while +you take upon yourself the guiding of the boat--(if I might venture to +suggest!--our course lies up the Mong, and not out to sea)--I, with my +sail, control the motive power." + +"You mean that if I don't go right, you'll drop the sail?"-- + +"Not at all!--I shall navigate, not drift. Do you suppose I shall +surrender at the first summons?" + +"What would you consider a 'summons'?" said Faith with a funny look. "I +don't think your sail can do much against my rudder." + +"My sail regulates the boat's headway--which in its turn affects the +rudder. (If we run down those fishermen the damages may be heavy.) But +you see I have this advantage,--I know beforehand your system of +navigation--you don't know mine. Let me inform your unpractised eyes, +Miss Derrick, that the dark object just ahead of us is a snag." + +"My eyes don't see any better for that information," said Faith; with +great attention however managing to guide their little craft clear of +both snag and fishermen, and almost too engaged in the double duty to +have leisure for laughing. But practice is the road to excellence and +ease; Faith learned presently the correspondence between the rudder and +her hand, and in the course of a quarter of an hour could keep the +north track with tolerable steadiness. The wind was fair for a straight +run up the Mong. The river stretching north in a diminishing blue +current (pretty broad however at Pattaquasset and for some miles up) +shewed its low banks in the tenderest grading of colour; very softly +brown in the distance, and near the eye opening into the delicate hues +of the young leaf. The river rolled its bright blue, and the +overarching sky was like one of summer's. Yet the air was not +so,--spicy from young buds; and the light was _Springy_; not Summer's +ardour nor Summer's glare, but that loveliest promise of what is coming +and oblivion of what is past. So the little boat sailed up the Mong. +Mr. Linden's sail was steady, Faith's rudder was still. + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said suddenly, "have you made up your mind to my +letter plan?" + +"About Reuben? O yes. I am willing." + +"You know you are to send me every possible question that comes up in +the course of your studies, and every French exercise, and every doubt +or discomfort of any kind--if any should come. I shall not be easy +unless I think that." + +"But you won't have time for my French exercises!" + +"Try me. And you are to take plenty of fresh air, and not a bit of +fatigue; and in general are to suppose yourself a rare little plant +belonging to me, which I have left in your charge for the time being. +Do you understand, Mignonette?" + +Her blush and smile, of touched pleasure, shewed abundance of +understanding. + +"But I want you to tell me, Endecott, all the things in particular you +would like to have me do or attend to while you are away--besides my +studies. I have been thinking to ask you, and waiting for a good time." + +"'All the things'?--of what sort, dear child?" + +"Aren't there some of your poor people you would like to have +particularly attended to? I could get Reuben to go with me, you know, +where it was too far for me to go alone--or mother." + +"Yes, there are some things you might do," said Mr. Linden, "for me and +for them, though more in the way of sending than going; the places are +too far off. But I should like to know that Mrs. Ling's mother had a +bunch of garden flowers now and then, and that another went to that +little lame girl on the Monongatesak road; and once in a great while +(not often, or they will lose their charm) you may send the Roscoms two +fresh eggs!--not more, on any account. Reuben will go for you, +anywhere--and the Roscoms are old protegees of his." + +"I didn't mean to forget the Roscoms," said Faith. "But must one manage +with them so carefully?" + +"In matter of favours, yes. And even in matter of visits, to a certain +degree,--their life is so monotonous that novelty has a great charm. +Reuben used to go and read to them almost every day on his way from +school, but I found it best to make my coming an event." + +"Can I do anything for Reuben?" + +"Nothing new that I know of, at present--you are doing something for +him all the while,--and it will be a wonderful delight to him to bring +you letters. Then if you are ever driving down that Monongatesak road, +with nothing to hinder, take the little lame child with you for a mile +or two,--she so pines to be out of the house and moving. Would it be +disagreeable to you?--there is nothing but what is pleasant in her +appearance." + +"What if there were?" she said with a wistful look at him. "Do _you_ +mind disagreeablenesses? and do you want to have me mind them?" + +"No, dear child, but you must get wonted by degrees,--and some +temperaments can never bear what others can. What if we were to +overhaul those fishermen?" + +"What do you want?" said Faith, as she carefully set the boat's head +that way. "A fish for dinner?" + +"No"--said Mr. Linden,--"I have too much respect for that basket at my +feet. But you know, Faith, we are having a sort of preliminary +play-practice at seeking our fortune, to-day--we must carry it out. +Just imagine, my dear, that we are adrift in this boat, with nothing at +all for dinner, and supper a wild idea!--not the eastern fisherman who +for four fish received from the Sultan four hundred pieces of gold, +would then appear so interesting as these." + +"If you wanted dinner from them--but you say you don't," said Faith +laughing. "Endecott, I don't understand in the least! And besides, you +said you wouldn't 'drift' but navigate!" + +And her soft notes rolled over the water, too soft to reach the yet +somewhat distant fishermen. + +"And so because I turn navigator you turn Siren!" said Mr. Linden. "But +I have you safe in my boat--I need not stop to listen." + +"But what did you mean?" + +"By what?" + +"All that." + +"Short and comprehensive!" said Mr. Linden--"come up on the other side, +Faith, the current is less strong. All about seeking our fortune, do +you mean? Did you never hear of any other extraordinary prince and +princess who did the same?" + +"If I am not adrift in the boat, I am in my wits!" said Faith,--"and +with no sail nor rudder either. Why are those fishermen interesting, +Endecott?" + +"Why my child," he said, "in the supposititious case which I put, they +were interesting as having fish, while we had none. But in the +reality--they were picturesque in the distance,--what they are near by +we will see," he added with a smile at her, as the sail came round and +the little boat shot up alongside of her rough-looking relation. "Well +friends, what cheer?--besides a May morning and a fair wind?" + +The fishermen slowly dragging their net, hoarsely speculating on its +probable weight of fish, paused both their oars and tongues and looked +at him. One of the men had the oars; the other at the end of the boat +was hauling in, hand over hand. + +"That's about all the cheer you want, I guess,--aint it?" said this +man. It was said freely enough, but with no incivility. + +"Not all _I_ want," said Mr. Linden,--while the oarsman, rolling his +tobacco in his mouth, came out with-- + +"Shouldn't wonder, now, if 'twan't much in your line o' +business!--guess likely you be one o' the mighty smart folks that don't +do nothin'." + +"I've no objection to being 'mighty smart'," said Mr. Linden, belaying +his rope with a light hand, "but I shouldn't like to pay such a price +for it. Smartness will have to come down before I'm a purchaser." + +The man looked at him with a queer little gleam crossing his face-- + +"Shouldn't wonder if you hadn't took it when it was down!" he said. + +"It's a great thing to know the state of the market," said Mr. Linden. +"I suppose you find that with your fish." + +"Gen'lly do, when we take 'em,"--said the man at the net, who never +took his eye off the overhauling boat and its crew. He was not a young +man, but a jovial-looking fellow. "What fish be _you_ arter, stranger?" + +"Somewhat of a variety," Mr. Linden said with a smile. "What makes the +fish come into your net?" + +"Haven't an idee!" said the man--"without it bees that fish is very +onintelligent creturs. I don't suppose fish has much brains, sir. And +so they goes further and fares worse." Which statement of the case he +appeared to think amusing. + +"But then why do they sometimes stay out?" said Mr. Linden,--"because I +have read of men who 'toiled all the night and caught nothing'." + +"Wall, you see," said the fisher, "they goes in shoals or flocks like, +and they's notional. Some of 'em won't come at one time o' tide, and +some won't come at another--and they has their favourite places too. +Then if a man sets his nets where the fish _aint_, all creation might +work and catch nothin'. This side the river is better now than over +there." + +"These men that I was talking of," said Mr. Linden, "once found a +difference even between the two sides of their ship. But the other +time, when they had caught nothing all the night, in the morning they +caught so many that their net broke and both their ships began to sink." + +"What kind o' folks was them?" said the oarsman a little scornfully. + +"Why they were fishermen," said Mr. Linden. "They followed your calling +first, and then they followed mine." + +"What's yourn?" said the other, in his tone of good-humoured interest. +"Guess you're a speaker o' some sort--aint ye?" + +"Yes--" Mr. Linden said, with a little demure gesture of the head,--"I +am--'of some sort,' as you say. But I've got an account of these men in +my pocket--don't you want to hear it?--it's more interesting than any +account you could have of me." + +"Like to hear it well enough--" said the man at the net, setting +himself astride the gunwale to listen, with the net hanging from his +hand. + +"I wouldn't mind knowing how they worked it--" said the other man, +while Mr. Linden threw a rope round one of the thole-pins of the +fishing boat and gave the other end to Faith, and then took out his +book. And Faith was amused at the men's submissive attention, and the +next minute did not wonder at all!--as she noted the charm that held +them--the grace of mingled ease, kindliness, and power, in Mr. Linden's +manner and presence. Nothing could have greater simplicity, and it was +not new to Faith, yet she looked at him as if she had never seen him +before. + +"A great many years ago," he said, "when the Son of God, our Lord Jesus +Christ, was in this world, he went about healing sick people, and +teaching every one the way to heaven; and the people came in great +numbers to hear him. + +"'And it came to pass, that, as the people pressed upon him to hear the +word of God, he stood by the lake of Gennesareth, and saw two ships +standing by the lake; but the fishermen were gone out of them, and were +washing their nets.'" + +"We wash our'n by pullin' 'em through the water," said the net man. + +"The Lord entered one of the ships, which belonged to a man named +Simon, and asked him to push out a little from the shore. 'And he sat +down, and taught the people out of the ship. Now, when he had left +speaking, he unto Simon, Launch out into the deep, and let down your +nets for a draught. And Simon answering, said unto him, Master, we have +toiled all the night, and have taken nothing; nevertheless, at thy word +I will let down the net.'" + +"In course! whether 'twas any use or not,"--the man with the net said +approvingly. "So he had oughter." + +"Yes, and he knew it would be of use in some way, for God never gives a +command without a reason. And when they had let down the net, 'they +enclosed a great multitude of fishes: and their net brake. And they +beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other ship, that they +should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so +that they began to sink.'" + +"That was a bigger haul than ever I see, yet," remarked the man. + +"Neither had Simon ever seen anything like it--he knew that it was +brought about by the direct power of God. + +"When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, 'Depart +from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord.' For he was astonished, and all +they that were with him, at the draught of the fishes which they had +taken." + +"Can't see what he said _that_ fur," said the oarsman. + +"No more don't I!" said the other. "He had got a good haul o' fish, +anyway--if he was ever so!--and we aint none of us white lilies." + +"But then Peter knew that he ought to be a white lily--and such a new +view of God's power and greatness made him feel it more than ever. So +that he was both afraid and ashamed,--he thought himself unworthy to +have the Lord in his ship, and was afraid to have him stay there." + +"I wouldn't have asked him to go out, if he had been in mine,--_I_ +don't think!"--said the elder fisher slowly. "I don't see as that chap +need to ha' been afeard--he hadn't done nothin' but good to him." + +"But it's what we do ourselves that makes us afraid," said Mr. Linden. +"So it was with Adam and Eve in the garden, you know--God had talked to +them a great many times, and they were never afraid till they disobeyed +him--then the moment he spoke they ran and hid themselves." + +The oarsman was silent, the other man gave a sort of grunt that +betokened interest. + +"What shines had this feller been cuttin' up?" + +"Why!" said Mr. Linden, starting up and taking his stand by the mast, +as the little boat curtseyed softly over the waves, "if you tell one of +your boys always to walk in one particular road, and you find him +always walking in another--I don't think it matters much what he's +doing there, to him or to you." + +"Wall?"--said the man, with a face of curiosity for what was to come +next, mingled with a certain degree of intelligence that would not +confess itself. + +"Well--Peter knew he was not in the way wherein the Lord commands us +all to walk." + +"I guess every feller's got to pick out his own road for himself!" said +the fisher, pulling up a foot or two of his net carelessly. + +"That's what Peter had thought,--and so he had lived, just as he chose. +But when he saw more of the glory of God, then he was afraid and +confessed his sin. And what do you suppose the Lord said to him then?" + +"What did Peter own up to?" + +"The account gives only the general confession--that he was a sinful +man, not worthy to have the Lord look upon him except in anger. You see +he falls down at his feet and prays him to depart--he could not believe +that the Lord would stay there to speak good to him." + +"Well--what _did_ he say to him?" + +"'He said unto him, Fear not'. And no one need fear, who humbly +confesses his sins at the feet of Jesus, 'for if we confess our sins, +he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from +all unrighteousness.' Then the Lord bade Simon and all his companions +to follow him--and they obeyed. And now I want to tell you what this +following means." + +He put one arm round the mast, half leaning against it, and gave them +what Faith would have called a 'ladder'--passing from the 'Follow me,' +spoken to Peter,--to the young man who being bid to follow, 'went away +sorrowful',--to the description of the way given in the tenth chapter +of John,--to the place whither the flock follow Christ-- + +"'And I looked, and lo, a Lamb stood on the mount Zion, and with him an +hundred forty and four thousand, having his Father's name written in +their foreheads.' 'These are they which follow the Lamb whithersoever +he goeth.'"-- + +The men listened, open-mouthed and with intent eyes;--partly to the +speaker, it was evident, and partly to what the speaker said. And that +his words took hold, it was also evident. When he ceased, the man at +the net dropped his eyes for a moment, a curious look of meditation +covering his face. + +"It's easy to talk of follerin'," he said with a half laugh which was +not of carelessness,--"and one might like to,--but it's plaguey hard to +know where to start!--" + +"It's easy for God to teach you and easy to ask him to do it. If it was +anything else you wanted to do, you would not stop trying till you +found out," said Mr. Linden--"and that is just the way here. Now I am +going to give you a copy of all this," he said, throwing his own little +Bible softly into Faith's lap and stepping forward to the prow of the +boat (which she thought held only lunch baskets)--"and I shall turn +down a leaf at the story of the net full of good fishes--and another at +a place that tells of a net full 'of every kind, both bad and good.' +And I want you to read them, and think about them, and find out how to +follow Christ--and then come on!" He took his seat once more in the +stern of the boat, and held out the Bible to the fisherman. The other +man, slowly dipping his oars in and out, met his look too, but made no +answer. + +The man at the net took the book and turned over the leaves with a +wondering, considering air. + +"What do you reckon this here's worth?" he said somewhat awkwardly, +without raising his eyes from it. + +"Worth daily reading and study--worth all you have in the world, if you +will use it right," said Mr. Linden. "You need not think about any +other value--I had it in trust to give away." + +"I'm much obleeged to you,--I'll take a look at it now and then. Do you +live along here, anywheres?" + +"In Pattaquasset, just now," Mr. Linden said, as he prepared to make +sail again. "I don't very often come to this part of the river." + +"Well hold on!" said the man, beginning to pull in his net with great +vivacity,--"I'm bound to give you a fish--if I've got one here. Bear a +hand, Dick! Haint you got a place on board there that you can stow it, +without skeerin' the lady?"-- + +"I'll try to find one!" said Mr. Linden, answering the proposal just as +it was meant. "If the lady is scared she shall turn her face the other +way." + +"She'll turn it which way you say?--" ventured the fisher insinuatingly. + +Faith did not seem afraid of the fish, by the way she leaned over the +stern of the boat and eyed the up-coming nets which the men were +drawing in. She had listened to the foregoing talk, to the full as +intently as those for whom it was meant, and with a multitude of +interests at work in her mind and heart of which they had never +dreamed. And now her eye was bent on the net; but her thoughts were on +that other kind of fishing of which she had just seen an example--the +first she had ever seen of Mr. Linden's!--and her full heart was +longingly thinking, among other thoughts, of the few there were to draw +those nets, and the multitude to be drawn! What Faith saw in the meshes +the man's hands were slowly pulling up!-- + +But the fisherman only saw--what pleased him greatly, some very fine +fish; shad they were for the greater part; from which he selected a +noble specimen and cast it over into Mr. Linden's boat. Then standing +up in his own he wiped his hands on the sleeves of his coat. + +"Hope you'll come along again some day," said he. "And" (waggishly) +"don't come without the lady!"-- + +The rope was drawn in and the little skiff shot ahead smoothly and +silently from the great brown fishing boat and her equally brown +owners. Gliding on--watched for a little by the fishers, then their +attention was claimed by the flapping shad in the net, and the sail +boat set her canvas towards Kildeer river. Mr. Linden went forward and +bestowed his prisoner a little more out of sight and sound in some +place of safety, and then sitting down in the prow dipped his hands in +the blue water and took a survey of Faith, as she sat in the stern--the +tiller in her hand, the shadow of the sail falling partly across; the +spring zephyrs playing all about her. + +"Little bird," he said, "why don't you sing?" + +A smile of much and deep meaning went back from the stern to the prow; +but she presently made the somewhat obvious remark that "birds do not +always sing." + +"A melancholy fact in natural history! the truth of which I am just now +experiencing. What shall be done with them at these times--are they to +be coaxed--or chidden or fed with sponge cake? Have you got any in your +basket?" + +"Are you hungry?" said Faith. + +"Only for words--or songs--or some other commodity of like origin," Mr. +Linden said, coming back to his old place. "What shall I have?--if I +cannot get the two first?" + +"You might have a little patience?--" + +"'Patience', my dear, 'is a good root'--but nothing akin to sugar +canes." + +"There's no need of it, either," said Faith laughing,--"for _you_ can +sing if I can't." + +"No, there is no need of it, and therefore--Now, little bird, will you +please not to fly past the outlet of Kildeer river?" + +Laughing, colouring, Faith nevertheless bent a very earnest attention +upon this difficult piece of navigation. For the opening of Kildeer +river was as yet but slightly to be discerned;--a little break in the +smooth shore line,--a very little atmospheric change in the soft leafy +hues of the nearer and further point. Faith watched, as only a young +steersman does, for the time and place where her rudder should begin to +take cognizance of the approaching change of course. A little wider the +break in the shore line grew,--more plain the mark of a break in the +trees,--and almost suddenly the little stream unfolded its pretty reach +of water and woodland, stretching in alluringly with picturesque turns +of its mimic channel. Faith needed a little help now, for the river was +not everywhere navigable; but after a few minutes of pretty sailing +among care-requiring rocks and sand-banks, where the loss of wind made +their progress slow, the little skiff was safely brought to land at a +nice piece of gravelly shore. It was wonderful pretty! The trees with +their various young verdure came down to the water's edge, with many a +dainty tint; here one covered with soft catkins of flower,--there one +ruddy with not yet opened buds. The winding banks of the stream on one +hand; and on the other the little piece of it they had passed over, +with the breadth of the Mong beyond. Through all, May's air and +Spring's perfume, and the stillness of noonday. + + "Inverted in the tide + Stand the grey rocks, and trembling shadows throw. + And the fair trees look over, side by side, + And see themselves below." + + +So Mr. Linden told Faith, as he was putting his sail in trim repose, +and then--telling her that the guiding power was still in her hands, +requested to know what they should do next. + +"Why," said Faith merrily, "I thought you had business to attend to?" + +"I had--" said Mr. Linden,--"but I reflected that you would probably +give me full occupation, and so got rid of the business first." + +"Then you have nothing to do here?" + +"A great deal, I suppose; but I know not what." + +Faith fairly sat down to laugh at him. + +"What do you think of having lunch, and then going after flowers?" + +"I consider that to be a prudent, bird-like suggestion. Do you expect +me to cook this fish for you? or will you be content to take it home to +your mother, and let us feast upon-- + + "'Herbs, and such like country messes, + Which neat-handed Phyllis dresses'?" + + +"_Have_ you all the books in the world in your head?"--said Faith, +laughing her own little laugh roundly. "How plain it is Mr. Linden has +nothing to do to-day!--Would you like to help me to gather some sticks +for a fire, sir? I think you had better have something on your hands." + +"Do you?" he said lifting her out of the boat in his curiously quick, +strong, light way,--"that was something on my hands--not much. What +next?--do you say we are to play Ferdinand and Miranda?" + +Faith's eye for an instant looked its old look, of grave, intelligent, +doubtful questioning: but then she came back to Kildeer river. + +"I haven't played that play yet," she said gaily; "but if you'll help +me find some dry sticks--your reward shall be that you shall not have +what you don't like! I can make a fire nicely here, Endecott; on this +rock." + +"Then it was not about them you were reading in that focus of sunbeams?" + +"What?--" she said, looking. + +"Once upon a time--" Mr. Linden said smiling,--"when you and Shakspeare +got lost in the sunlight, and wandered about without in the least +knowing where you were." + +"When, Endecott?" + +"Leave that point," he said,--"I want to tell you about the story. +Ferdinand, whom I represent, was a prince cast away upon a desert +shore--which shore was inhabited by the princess Miranda, whom you +represent. Naturally enough, in the course of time, they came to think +of each other much as we do--perhaps 'a little more so' on the part of +Miranda. But then Miranda's father set Ferdinand to carrying wood,--as +you--acting conscientiously for Mrs. Derrick--do me." + +"I wonder if I ever shall understand you!" exclaimed Faith desperately, +as her laugh again broke upon the sweet air that floated in from the +Mong. "What has my conscience, or Mrs. Derrick, to do with our lunch +fire? Why was the other prince set to carrying wood?" + +"For the same reason that I am!" said Mr. Linden raising his eyebrows. +"To prove his affection for Miranda." + +How Faith laughed. + +"You are mistaken--O how mistaken you are!" she exclaimed. "It shews +that though you know books, you don't know everything." + +And running away with her own armful of sticks and leaves, back to the +rock spoken of near where the vessel lay, Faith was stopped and +relieved of her load, with such an earnest-- + + "'No, precious creature, + I'd rather crack my sinews, break my back, + Than you should such dishonour undergo'--" + +that she could do nothing but laugh, till the sticks were fairly on the +rock. Then Faith went to laying them daintily together. + +"I hope you've no objection to my making the fire," she said; "because +I like it. Only, Endecott! the matches are in the basket. Could you get +them for me? Indeed I shall want the basket too out of the boat." + +Whereupon Mr. Linden-- + + "'The very instant I saw you, did + My heart fly to your service: there reside, + To make me slave to it; and for your sake, + Am I this patient log man'!--" + + +But anything less like those two last words than the way in which he +sprang into the boat, and brought the basket, and got out what she +called for, could hardly be. + +"How many matches do you want?" he said, looking demurely at her as he +gave her one. + +"All of them,--basket and all, Endecott. You are so patient that you do +not hear." + +"And you so impatient that you do not see--'basket and all' are at your +side, fair princess.--Stand back,--it may be very well for the winds to +'blow, and crack their cheeks,' but I think it should be confined to +them." And she was laughingly held back, where she could only use her +eyes about the fire. + +"That's my province," said Faith. "I think any effort to make a +princess of me, will--fail. Did Miranda pick up any wood herself?" + +"You can't help being a princess if I am a prince," said Mr. Linden. + +"I don't see how it follows," said Faith. "Only let me get at that +fire, and the fancy will pass away. Endecott!--it is absolutely +necessary that some wood should be put on; and I don't believe princes +know how." + +"Princes," said Mr. Linden, holding her a little off with one hand, +while with the other he replenished the fire, "are especially famed for +their power of doing impossible things in desert places. And the +princess will follow--whether you can see it or not. Is that blaze +aspiring enough for you?" + +"Yes, but it needs to be kept up--I want a good bed of coals." + +A fine fire was on its way at last, and while waiting for it to burn +down to the desired bed of coals, the temporary prince and princess sat +down on the rock to feast their eyes in the mean time. A little past +midday, it was not the picturesque hour for another season; but now, in +the freshness of Spring, the delicate beauties of colour and light +could bear the full meridian sun and not ask for shadows to set them +off; other than the tender shade under the half-leaved trees. It was a +warm enough day too, and those same leaves were making a great spring +towards their full unfolding. Birds were twittering all around, and +they only filled up the silence. + +"Isn't it worth coming for!--" said Faith, when they had taken it all +in for a few minutes without interrupting the birds. + +"More than that--and the 'it' is very plural. Faith, do you see that +butterfly?"--A primrose-winged rover was meandering about in the soft +air before them, flitting over the buttercups with a listless sort of +admiration. + +"Poor thing, he has come out too soon," said Faith. "He will have some +frost yet, for so summery as it is to-day." But Faith gave a graver +look at the butterfly than his yellow wings altogether warranted. + +"Among the ancients," said Mr. Linden, "the word for a butterfly and +the word for the soul were the same,--they thought the first was a good +emblem of the lightness and airiness of the last. So they held, that +when a man died a butterfly might be seen flitting above his head. I +was thinking how well this one little thing shews the exceeding lowness +of heathen ideas." + +"Did they think the butterfly was his very spirit, in that form?" + +"I suppose so--or thought they did. But look at that creature's +wavering, unsteady flight; his aimless wanderings, anywhere or nowhere; +and compare it with the 'mounting up with wings as eagles', which a +Christian soul may know, even in this life,--compare it with the swift +'return to God who gave it'--with the being 'caught up to meet the +Lord' which it shall surely know at death." + +"And the butterfly isn't further from that," said Faith clasping her +hands together,--"than many a real, living soul in many a living +person!"-- + +"No, not further; and so what the old Greeks made an emblem of the +immortal soul, gives name, with us, to those persons who are most tied +down to mortality. What were you thinking of, a minute ago, when I +shewed you the butterfly?" + +"I was thinking of somebody that I am afraid a butterfly will always +remind me of,"--Faith answered with a slight colour;--"and of the time +he got the name." + +"He got it by favour of his office, you know--not otherwise." + +"I know--" + +But with that, Faith jumped up to see to the state of the fire; and +then after some conjuration in her basket produced a suspicious-looking +tin vessel, for which the proper bed of coals was found. Leaving it and +the fire to agree together, Faith came back to the rock and Mr. Linden +and stood a little while silently looking and breathing the sweetness. + +"I always did love everything in the world, that my eyes could see," +she said gravely. "But I love them so much more now!--now that the hand +that made them is not such a strange far-off hand to me. It makes a +kind of new world to me, Endecott." + +"Yes--and you can understand how--even without physical changes--when +we 'shall know as we are known,' the 'heavens and earth wherein +dwelleth righteousness' may be preeminently 'new'." + +Faith stood without reply a few minutes longer, then ran back to her +fire; and after a short space called to Mr. Linden to ask if he would +like to come and see what the prince had been picking up wood for? + +To which the prince responded with very un-royal alacrity, bringing a +well-put-together knot of buttercups to adorn one side of Miranda's +head; which he declared looked better than gold beads, if they didn't +cost as much. + +A napkin was spread on the rock, conveniently near to the fire; on +which plates and bread and a bottle of cream and a dainty looking pasty +were irregularly bestowed. Mr. Linden threw himself down on the moss; +and Faith had got a cup and saucer out of her basket and was just +sugaring and creaming the prince's reward before applying to her dish +on the fire for the crowning coffee; when her eye was caught by a +spectator lately come upon the scene. No other than a somewhat ragged +little boy, who eyeing them from the bank had been irresistibly lured +nearer and nearer, by the grace of the preparations and the steam of +the hot coffee perhaps, till he now stood by the trunk of the nearest +tree. + +"What are you doin'?" he said. + +"What are you?" said Mr. Linden, turning to look at the boy--not just +as _he_ looked at the coffee, but very much as the coffee looked at +him. "Did you never see people eat dinner?" + +The boy stood his ground with, "What you got?" + +"When was the last time?" said Mr. Linden. ("Princess--this may turn +out to be a subject!") + +"Last time _what?_" said the "subject" stoutly. + +"The last time you saw people eating dinner," said Mr. Linden. "Did you +ever go to the Museum?" + +"I've went to Pettibaug!"-- + +"When is the last time you saw people eating dinner?" said Faith. + +"We haint got none to our house." + +"What's the matter?" + +"Mintie said there warn't nothin' to eat and I might go a +blackberryin'." + +"You've come to the right place," said Mr. Linden,--"I don't believe +they're ripe anywhere else. Who is 'Mintie'? and who stays with her +while you're after blackberries?" + +"Mintie's sissy. There aint nobody stayin' with her--she's stayin' +along o' mother--when she's up." + +"Where is she?--I mean where does she live--and you, and Mintie. Where +is your house?" + +"Round there--'Taint fur. What you got?" + +Faith set down her cup and looked at Mr. Linden. + +"What is the matter with your mother?" + +"She's sick." + +"Well if I give you a basket, and this lady puts some dinner in it for +your mother and Mintie and you, do you think you can carry it home?" + +"Is your sister sick too?" said Faith. + +"She's got the fever nagur." + +"Endecott," said Faith softly,--"shall we go and see them?" + +"Yes, of course. What's your name, child?" + +"My name's Bob Tuck." + +Mr. Linden looked at him. + +"How comes it that you and Dromy are no more alike?" he said. + +"Mother says Dromy aint like nothin' _I_ be." + +"Well Bob Tuck," said Mr. Linden smiling, "have you got a broom at +home?" + +"There's two old ones." + +"Then if you will go home and sweep the floor as well as you can, with +the two old brooms, and set the table, I'll bring this lady to see you +and we'll carry the basket--(which means, Princess, that _I_ +will!)--and you can let the blackberries hang on till they get ripe. Do +you understand?" + +"If I'll sweep the floor, you'll fetch the basket?" said Bob. + +"Yes. And you can wash your hands nicely and be ready to help me take +the things out of it." + +Bob started. "How soon 'll you come?" + +"As soon as I finish my dinner." + +"How good it is I brought the whole pie!" said Faith, as she poured the +delayed coffee upon the cream and sugar. "And there's your shad, +Endecott! unless you prefer to take that home, and we'll send something +else.--Now you see what you picked up sticks for?" + +"I see--" Mr. Linden said, looking at her. "And you see, Princess, what +royalty is apt to meet if it will go wandering round the world." + +"What?" + +"Bob Tuck!--" + +"Well--it's a good thing for Bob Tuck to meet with royalty,"--said +Faith, looking at the pie Mr. Linden was cutting. + +"Princess," said Mr. Linden, "have you any 'Queen Anne' in your basket?" + +Faith looked, her merry, puzzled, grave look of inquiry,--and then +there was nothing for it but a ringing laugh again. + +"I would rather have that at a venture, if I were the sick one," said +Mr. Linden. "But the specific most prized by that class of the +population who have 'fever nagur', is called in their vernacular 'Queen +Anne'--anglice, quinine. Faith, you have no idea how those buttercups +are beautified!" + +"Flowers always are, that you handle," said Faith. + +"You see how appropriate they are to my Sunbeam--for + + 'The buttercup catches the sun in his chalice'." + + +"What is a chalice?" + +"A sort of cup--a church service cup, generally. Did you admire so much +the head of clover I gave you once down at the shore?" + +Faith gave him a curious glance of recollection; but though there was a +half smile on her face too, she remained silent. + +"Well, little bird?" he said smiling. "Of what is that look compounded?" + +"Various things, I suppose. Let me have your cup, Endecott?" + +"Do you know," he said, "that for a scholar, you +are--remarkably--unready to answer questions?" + +"I didn't know it." + +"Are you not aware of any class of recollective remarks or inquiries +which now and then break forth, and which you invariably smother with a +thick blanket of silence?" + +There was another quick glance and smile, and then Faith said as she +handed him his cup,-- + +"What do you want to know, Endecott?" + +"I want to know where there was ever just such another princess. And by +the way, speaking of the shore--I have something that belongs to her." + +"To me?" + +"Oui, mademoiselle." + +"May I know what?" + +"You may, yet not just now. You may guess what it is." + +But Faith gave up guessing in despair at one of Mr. Linden's puzzles. + +The basket was repacked when the lunch was done; and they set out on +their walk. The way, following Bob's direction, led along the bank +under the trees, turning a little before the Mong was reached. The +house was soon found; standing alone, in an enclosed garden ground +where no spade had been struck that season; and at the end of a farm +road that shewed no marks of travel. + +Bob had not only swept the room, but his tidings had roused apparently +his sister to prepare herself also; for Mintie met them as they came +in. She was a handsome girl, with a feverish colour in her cheeks that +made her appearance only more striking. There was pride and poverty +here, clearly. Faith's simple words neither assumed the one nor +attacked the other. The girl looked curiously at her and at the other +visiter. + +"Who be you?" + +"We do not live in this neighbourhood," said Faith. "We came up to +Kildeer river to-day, and met your little brother down by the shore." + +"What did he say to you?" + +"He told us you were sick and in want of help." + +Another look laid the girl's jealousy asleep. She told her story--her +father had died six months ago; she and her mother and brother lived +there alone. It was an "unlikely place to get to," and no neighbours +very near. Her mother had been sick abed for a number of weeks; and she +had had all to do, and now for a week past had been unable to do +anything, go to Pettibaug or anywhere else, to get what they wanted. +And so they "had got out of 'most everything." Dromy Tuck, Mr. Linden's +scholar, lived at Farmer Davids' in the capacity of farm-boy; Mrs. +Davids being a far-off connexion. + +So much was all pride permitted to be told. Without much questioning, +her visiters contrived to find out what they could do for her. Faith +put the coffee-pot on the fire, declaring that it would do Mintie good +like medicine; and served it to her when it was hot, with some bread +and chicken, as if it had been indeed medicine and Faith a doctor. Then +while Bob and she were dining, Faith went in to see the sick woman. +_She_ was much more communicative, and half avowed that she believed +what she wanted now was "nourishing things"--"but with me lyin' here on +my back," she said, "'taint so easy to find 'em." Faith gave her a cup +of coffee too and some bread; she had hardly drunk any herself at +lunch; and leaving her patient much inspirited, came back to Mr. Linden +in the other room. Apparently his words and deeds had been acceptable +too,--Bob's face was shining, not only with dinner but with the +previous cold water applications which Mr. Linden had insisted on, and +Mintie's mind was evidently at work upon various things. The basket was +soon emptied of all but its dishes, and the prince and princess went on +their way down the hill. + +"Faith," said Mr. Linden, "shall we go and sit in the boat for half an +hour, considering various things, and then have our wild flower hunt? +Or would you prefer that first?" + +"O no! I would rather have the half hour in the boat." + +It was good time yet in the afternoon, and though the little boat now +lay partly shadowed by the hill, it was none the worse resting place +for that. Again Faith was seated there in all the style that shawls and +cushions furnished, and just tired enough to feel luxurious in the soft +atmosphere. Mr. Linden arranged and established her to his liking; then +he took out of his pocket a letter. + +It was one which had been opened and read; but as he unfolded it, there +appeared another--unopened, unread; its dainty seal unbroken, and on +the back in fair tracery, the words, "Miss Faith Derrick." As Faith +read them and saw the hand, her eye glanced first up at Mr. Linden with +its mute burden of surprise, and then the roses bloomed out over her +cheeks and even threw their flush upon her brow. Her eye was cast down +now and fixed on the unopened letter, with the softest fall of its +eyelid. + +"Shall I read you a part of mine first?" + +"If you please. I wish you would." + +"Only a little bit," he said smiling--thinking perhaps that she did not +know to what she gave her assent so readily,--"you shall read the whole +of it another time." The "little bit" began rather abruptly. + + + +"'I have written to your darling, Endy--Not much, tell her; because +what I have in my heart for her cannot be told. I know how precious any +one must be whom you love so much. But make her love me a little before +she reads my letter--and don't let her call me anything but Pet--and +then I shall feel as if I had a sister already. And so I have, as you +say. What a glad word!--I could cry again with the very writing of it. + +'Endy--I did cry a little over your letter, but only for joy: if it had +been for sorrow I should have cried long ago; for I knew well enough +what was coming. Only I want more than ever to be at home,--and to see +you, and to see Faith--don't let her think I am like you! + +'My letter wouldn't hold much, as I told you. But I give you any number +of (unspeakable!) messages for her, John Endy. I suppose you will take +charge of them? I may feel sure they have all reached their +destination?'" + + + +Long before the reading was finished, Faith's head had sunk--almost to +the cushions beside her. The reader's voice and intonation had given +every word a sort of ring in her heart, though the tone was low. One +hand came round her when she put her head down, taking possession of +her hand which lay so still, with the unopened letter in its clasp. But +now she was gently raised up. + +"Precious child," Mr. Linden said, "what are you drooping your head +for?" + +"For the same reason she had, I suppose,--" said Faith half laughing, +though witnesses of another kind were in her eyes. + +"Who are you talking about?" + +"Your sister." + +"Why don't you begin to practise your lesson?" + +Perhaps Faith thought that she _was_. She looked at nothing but her +letter. + +"Will you wait for your messages till we get home?--this place not +being absolute seclusion." + +"Shall I read this now?" said Faith rather hastily. + +"I should think there would be no danger in that." + +With somewhat unsteady fingers, that yet tried to be quiet, Faith broke +the seal; and masking her glowing face with one hand, she bent over the +letter to read it. + + + +"My very dear, and most unknown, and most well-known little sister! I +have had a picture sent me of you--as you appeared one night, when you +sat for your portrait, hearing Portia; and with it a notice of several +events which occurred just before that time. And both picture and +events have gone down into my heart, and abide there. Endecott says you +are a Sunbeam--and I feel as if a little of the light had come over the +water to me,--ever since his letter came I have been in a state of +absolute reflection! + +"I thought my love would not be the first to 'find out the way'--even +then when I wrote it! Faith--do you know that there is nobody in the +world just like him? because if you do not--you will find it out!--I +mean! like Endecott--_not_ like Love. My dear, I beg pardon for my +pronoun! But just how _I_ have loved you all these months, for making +him so happy, I cannot tell you. + +"And I cannot write to-day--about anything,--my thoughts are in too +uneven a flow to find their way to the end of my pen, and take all +possible flights instead. Dear Faith, you must wait for a _letter_ till +the next steamer. And you cannot miss it--nor anything else, with +Endecott there,--it seems to me that to be even in the same country +with him is happiness. + +"You must love me too, Faith, and not think me a stranger,--and let me +be your (because I am Endy's) + +"PET." + + + +Faith took a great deal more time than was necessary for the reading of +this letter. Very much indeed she would have liked to do as her +correspondent confessed she had done, and cry--but there was no sign of +such an inclination. She only sat perfectly moveless, bending over her +letter. At last suddenly looked up and gave it to Mr. Linden. + +"Well?" he said with a smile at her as he took it. + +"You'll see--" she said, a little breathlessly. And still holding her +hand fast, Mr. Linden read the letter, quicker than she had done, and +without comment--unless when his look shewed that it touched him. + +"You will love her, Faith!" he said as he folded the letter up +again,--"in spite of all your inclinations to the contrary!" + +"Do you think that is in the future tense? But I am afraid," added +Faith,--"she thinks too much of me now." + +"She does not think as much of you as I do," Mr. Linden said, with a +look and smile that covered all the ground of present or future fear. +"And after all it is a danger which you will share with me. It is one +of Pet's loveable feelings to think too much of some people whom she +loves just enough." + +Humility is not a fearful thing. Whatever had been in Faith's speech, +her look, bright, wistful, and happy, had no fear, truly bumble though +it was. "There is no danger of my loving this letter too much"--she +said as she carefully restored it to its envelope; said with a secret +utterance of great gratification. + +The promised half hour was much more than up, and the broadening shadow +on Kildeer river said that the time which could be given to wild +flowers was fast running away. Perhaps, too, Mr. Linden thought Faith +had mused and been excited enough, for he made a move. Everything in +the boat was put up in close order, and then the two went ashore again, +flower basket in hand. + +The long shadows heightened the beauty of the woods now, falling soft +and brown upon the yet browner carpet of dry leaves, and the young +leaves and buds overhead shewed every tint, from yellow to green. Under +the trees were various low shrubs in flower,--shad-blossom, with its +fleecy stems, and azalia in rosy pink; and the real wild flowers--the +dainty things as wild in growth as in name, were sprinkled everywhere. +Wind flowers and columbine; orchis sweet as any hyacinth; tall +Solomon's seal; spotless bloodroot; and violets--white, yellow, and +purple. The dogwood stretched its white arms athwart hemlock and +service; the creeping partridge berry carried its perfumed white stars +over rocks and moss in the deep shade below. Yellow bellwort hung its +fair flowers on every ridge; where the ground grew wet were dog's-tooth +violet and chick wintergreen. There the red maples stood, with bunches +of crimson keys,--at the edge of the higher ground their humbler +growing sister the striped bark, waved her green tresses. There seemed +to be no end to the flowers--nor to the variety--nor to the pleasure of +picking. + +"Faith--" said Mr. Linden. + +Faith looked up from a bunch of Sanguinaria beside which she was +crouching. + +"I find so much Mignonette!--do you?" + +Faith's eye flashed, and taking one of those little white stars she +threw it towards Mr. Linden. It went in a graceful parabolic curve and +fell harmlessly, like her courage, at his feet. + +"What has become of the princess?" + +"You ought rather to ask after the prince!" said Mr. Linden, picking up +the Sanguinaria with great devotion. "Is this the Star of the Order of +Merit?" + +"I am not Queen Flora. I don't know." + +"As what then was it bestowed?" + +"It might be Mignonette's shield, which she used as a weapon because +she hadn't any other! Endy, look at those green Maple flowers! You can +reach them." + +He gathered some of the hanging clusters, and then came and sat down +where she was at work and began to put them into her basket, arranging +and dressing the other flowers the while dextrously. + +"Do you know, my little Sunbeam," he said, "that your namesakes are +retreating?" + +"I know it, Endy," she said hastening her last gatherings--"and I am +ready." + +They began their homeward way to the boat, wandering a little still, +for flowers, and stopping to pick them, so that the sun was quite low +before Kildeer river was reached. There Mr. Linden stood a moment +looking about. + +"Do you see the place where we sat, Faith?" he said,--"over on the +other bank?" + +She looked, and looked at him and smiled--very different from her look +then! A glance comprehensive and satisfactory enough without words, so +without any more words they went on their way along the shore of the +river. As they neared their boat, the rays of the setting sun were +darted into Kildeer river and gilded the embayed little vessel and all +the surrounding shores. Rocks and trees and bits of land glowed or +glistened in splendour wherever a point or a spray could catch the sun; +the water in both rivers shone with a long strip of gold. They had had +nothing so brilliant all day. + +In the full glow and brightness Faith sat down in the boat with her +flowers near her, and Mr. Linden loosened the sail. How pretty the bank +looked as they were leaving it! the ashes of their fire on the rock, +and the places where they had sat or wandered, and talked--such happy +words! + +"I shall always love Kildeer river," said Faith with little long +breath, "because I read my letter here." + +"And so shall I," said Mr. Linden,--"but my love for it dates back to +the first piece of reading I ever did in its company." He looked back +for a minute or two--at the one shore and the other--the sunlight, the +trees, the flowery hillside, and it was well then that his face was not +seen by Faith--there fell on it such a shadow of pain. But he presently +turned to her again with just the former look. + +"Now," he said, "do you think you can steer home in the twilight?" + +"I don't know. Can I? I can follow directions." + +"And I can give them." + +And with that arrangement they ran out from the clean woody shores of +Kildeer river, and set their sail for Pattaquasset. How fair, at that +point of weather and day! a little quieter than the morning spring-tide +of everything, but what was less gay was more peaceful; and against a +soft south wind the little boat began to beat her way down, favoured +however by the tide. These tacks made Mr. Linden's counsels more +especially needed, but the short swift runs back and forth across the +river were even more inspiriting than a steady run before the wind, and +the constant attention which helm and sail required made talk and +action lively enough. + +"This is good, Endecott!" said Faith as the little boat came about for +the fifth or sixth time. + +"Faith," he said, smiling at her, "you look just as fresh as a +rose!--the day does not seem to have tired you one bit." + +"Tired!" she said,--"yes, I am a little bit tired--or hungry--but was +there ever such a day as we have had?--since the first of January!" + +"My dear little Mignonette!" Mr. Linden said--but if it was a "message" +Faith had then, it came from somewhere nearer than across the water. +"If you are tired, dear child, give up the rudder to me, and lay down +your head and rest. Do you see after what a sleep-inviting fashion the +lights are twinkling all down the shore?" + +"I'm not sleepy a bit;" said Faith,--"nor tired, except just enough; +and I like this small portion of power you have put in my hands. How +beautiful those lights look!--and the lights overhead, Endy. How +beautiful every thing is!"-- + +"Yes," said Mr. Linden, "when there is light within.-- + + 'He that hath light within his own clear breast, + May sit i' the centre and enjoy bright day.'" + + +"That's beautiful!" said Faith after a pause. + +And now the brush and stir of "coming about" again claimed their +attention, and in a minute more they were stretching away on a new +tack, with another set of constellations opposite to them in the sky. +The breeze was fresh, though as mild as May; the boat made good speed; +and in spite of beating down the river the mouth of the Mong was neared +fast. Pattaquasset lights, a little cluster of them, appeared +unmistakably; for down by the point there was a little knot of houses, +variously concerned in trade or fisheries. Mr. Linden had to put his +hand upon the tiller sometimes then, till they got in. Mr. Skip and +Jerry were in waiting; had been, "a sight o' half hours," the former +stated. Baskets and shad and passengers were transferred to the wagon, +and within a moderate time thereafter welcomed (the latter) by Mrs. +Derrick and supper--wherein, after a little delay therefor, the shad +played a conspicuous and most satisfactory part. + +Now there are no shad like the shad that come out of the Mong. + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + + +So passed the days. Not indeed all at Kildeer river, but all in sweet, +peaceful, bright occupations, whether of work or play. The trustees had +received their notice, with much dismay; a little alleviated by the +fact that Mr. Linden was willing to stay at his post for a few weeks +after the end of the year. + +It was almost a wonder, as the weeks went on, that Mr. Linden kept down +the shadows as well as he did,--to leave Faith in the morning, and go +to his devoted set of scholars--every one of whom had some particular +as well as general hold on him and love for him; and then to get away +by the hardest from their words and looks of sorrow and regret, and +come back to the presence of her brave little face--Mr. Linden was +between two fires. And they wrought a sort of deepening of everything +about him which was lovely or loveable--which did not make it easier +for Pattaquasset to let him go. + +As far as anybody could be a help to him, Faith was one. In a +gentleness of spirit that was of no kin to weakness, she took to her +heart the good that she had, and was quite as much of a sunbeam as +ever. How it would be when Mr. Linden was gone, Faith did not know; but +she did know that that was one of to-morrow's cares, with which she had +no business to-day. If the thought ever came up in its strength, strong +enough to bring down her heart and head,--if there were times when +Faith shewed herself to herself--the revelation was made to no other +person. And therefore it is probable that it was a view she did not +often indulge in. + +Dr. Harrison was not much at Pattaquasset these days He found it +convenient to be away. + +Dr. Harrison was a man who did not like to throw away his ammunition. +He by no means absented himself because of any failing in his fancy for +somebody in Pattaquasset; the working of cause and effect was on a +precisely opposite principle. The truth was, the fancy had grown to a +strength that would not well bear the doubtful kind of intercourse +which had been kept up between the parties; yet doubtful it remained, +and must remain for the present. With Mr. Linden there in the family; +with the familiar habits that naturally grow up between hostess and +guest, friend and friend, fellow inmates of the same house--it was very +difficult for the doctor to judge whether those habits had any other +and deeper groundwork. It was impossible, with his scanty and limited +chances of observation. At the same time there was too great a +possibility--his jealousy called it more,--for him to be willing to +take any forward and undoubtful steps himself. He did not find sea-room +to put in his oar. In this state of things, all that his pride and his +prudence would suffer him to do, was to wait--wait till either by Mr. +Linden's stay or departure the truth might be made known. But to abide +in Pattaquasset and watch patiently the signs of things, was more than +Dr. Harrison's feeling,--for it was far more than fancy,--could bear. +Just now, in despair or disgust, he had taken a longer enterprise than +usual; and was very far indeed from Pattaquasset when the news of Mr. +Linden's going set all the country in a flame. So, greatly to Faith's +satisfaction, he could not for some time be there to add any flame of +his own. + +The morning readings with Mr. Linden were great and chief treasures to +her all these days. She was always ready for him before six o'clock. +Not now in a firelit room, with curtains drawn against the cold; but in +the early freshness of the spring and summer mornings, with windows +open and sweet air coming in. Duly Faith noted every "ladder of +verses"--till her Bible grew to be well dotted with marks of red ink. +They looked lovely to her eyes. So they might; for they were records of +many very deep and sweet draughts from that well of water which the +word is to them that love it; draughts deeper and sweeter than Faith +could have drawn by herself--or she thought so. No quarter of an hour +in the day Faith loved so well. It was often more. + +One morning the "ladder" began with the silver trumpets made for the +service of God in the hands of the priests of Israel. Faith, looking +quietly out of the window, went roving in thought over the times and +occasions Mr. Linden read of, when their triumphal blast had proclaimed +the name and the glory of God in the ears of the thousands of Israel; +times of rejoicing, of hope, of promise and of victory. Scenes of glory +in the old Jewish history floated before her--with the sublime faith of +the actors in them, and the magnificent emblematic language in which +they read the truth. Faith only came fairly back to New England and +Pattaquasset at David's declaration-- + +"Blessed are the people that know the joyful sound; they shall walk, O +Lord, in the light of thy countenance." + + +The words thrilled her. She thought of the many who had never heard the +sound at all; and entered into Isaiah's foresight of a day when "the +great trumpet shall be blown, and they shall come that were ready to +perish in the land of Assyria, and the outcasts in the land of Egypt."-- + +"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth +good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good; +that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!" + + +Then came Isaiah's own blast of the trumpet, and then the sweet +enlargements and proclamations of the gospel, and the Lord's own +invitation to all who are "weary and heavy laden." But also-- + +"How shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how +shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall +they hear without a preacher? and how shall they preach, except they be +sent? as it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach +the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!"-- + +"And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, +Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him +take the water of life freely." + + +Faith sat by the open window, no sound abroad but the stir in the +leaves and the low music of birds. The very still peace without, rather +seemed to heighten and swell the moving of thoughts within, which +surged like the sea. Mr. Linden stopped reading and was silent; and so +was she, with nothing of all this appearing otherwise than in the +fixed, abstracted look which went out into Pattaquasset but also went +far beyond. And when she spoke, it was earnestly and with the same +clear quiet. + +"Endy--I am _glad_ to have you go, for the reason you are going for. I +wouldn't have you be anything else than what you mean to be,--not for +the pleasure of having you here." + +Her voice did not tremble, though indeed it told of feelings that were +less assured. + +"Dear Faith!" Mr. Linden said, with a bright flash of pleasure at her +words, which changed even while he spoke, "you do not know what a +comfort it is to me to feel that! And do you realize, little Sunbeam, +what joy it is, that however far apart we can still work together--in +the same cause, for the same master? The work which I take upon me by +name, belongs as really to you,--for the call should be given by every +one that heareth to every one that is athirst." + +"I know--" she said quietly. "How grand those words are you have been +reading!" + +"Faith," Mr. Linden said presently, "have you any special attachment to +this particular little Bible?" + +"I have my red notes in it," she said with a bright smile. + +"I am not quite satisfied with the paper and type, for your eyes--by +firelight and twilight. Shall I break up any train of old association +if I send you another?" + +She gave him a look of what Dr. Harrison might have called "compound +interest"; but assured him at the same time with sedate earnestness +that the one she had would do very well. + +This was but a day or two before Mr. Linden's leaving Pattaquasset. He +had paid his many farewell visits before the last week came, and before +that, too, had given up his weekday scholars,--those last days were all +given to Faith. Given to her in every possible way--out of doors and +within; in that fair summer weather the open air was the best of all +places for talking, and the least liable to intrusion. It was a great +relief to get away from village sights and sounds to the still woods, +or the fresh shore,--it was a great help towards cheerfulness. And the +help was needed. Wherever Mr. Linden went, among people, he met nothing +but sorrow for his going away,--wherever he went, to house or woods, he +carried the deep-hidden double sorrow in his heart, which no one +guessed of all who so loudly bewailed his departure. Faith herself +perhaps hardly realized what his part of that sorrow was; but he knew +hers, and bore it--as one bears the trials of the dearest friend one +has on earth. + +He was to go very early in the morning, but when the late evening talk +had impinged upon the night as much as it could be allowed to do, he +gave Faith the unexpected promise of coming down to read with her just +as usual next day. + +It was very, very early this time, in the summer twilight dawn, when +the kildeers were in their full burst of matins, and all the other +birds coming in one by one. Faith did not say many words, but she was +as quiet as the hour. Then she went to the breakfast-room to arrange +and hasten matters there; and Mr. Linden followed, and stood watching +her--she did not know how,--she only knew how he talked. + +But he took her into the sitting-room the moment breakfast was over and +stood by her, giving her the mute caresses he could not put in words. +And for words there was little time. The morning light came up and up +into the sky, the candles burned dim, as they stood there; and then he +bade her "'be perfect, be of good comfort,'" and so went away. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + + +When Mr. Linden was out of sight from the porch, Faith went to the +deserted room. + +It was in the latter end of summer. The windows were open, and the +summer wind blowing the muslin curtains flutteringly in. The maple +shaded Faith's old reading window, the leaves not changing yet; one +cupboard door a little open, shewed the treasures of books within. The +chintz couch stood empty, so it always stood when Faith saw it, except +only in those days of Mr. Linden's confinement with his wound. But now +her mind leaped back to that time; and the couch and the table and the +books, the very windows and fireplace, looked deserted. The red maple +leaves floating in--the dancing flames in the chimney--her lessons by +the side of that couch--her first exercise, which she had been sent to +do at that table;--all that and everything beside seemed to make its +passage through Faith's mind in tumultuous procession. She sat down on +the couch and leaned her head on the back of it; but only a few nervous +tears came, and oppressed sobbing breaths took the place of them. For a +little while then Faith fell on her knees, and if she could not speak +connectedly, nor think connectedly, she yet poured out her heart in the +only safe channel; and grew quiet and self-possessed. After an hour she +left the couch and turned to go down and join her mother. + +Passing the table on her way out, with a glance which had been called +off by other things as she came in, Faith's eye was caught and stayed. +There was no exercise left there for her, but the very gold pen with +which she had written that first one--and which she had used so many +times since, lay there; and by the pen a letter. The blood rushed to +Faith's heart as if Mr. Linden had come back again, or rather as if he +had not taken quite all of himself away. In a flood of gladness and +thankfulness and sorrow, Faith took up the letter and standing there by +the table read it. + + +MY OWN LITTLE PRECIOUS MIGNONETTE, + +I have a love for this sheet of paper, because it will be in your hands +when I cannot touch them nor see them,--how often they have ministered +to me just where I am writing this! just where you will find it. I know +_you_ will find it, Faith--I know where you will go as soon as I am out +of sight,--but dear child, do not let any sight or association in this +room make you anything but glad: they are all very dear to me. That +first day when you came in here to see me--and all the days that +followed,--and all the sweet knowledge I gained of my little +Mignonette, while she was learning other things. Faith, I can even +forgive Dr. Harrison his questions that day, for the delight it was to +me to shield you. Dear child, you must let me do that now whenever I +can,--it is one of the griefs of this separation that I cannot do it +all the time. + +I must go back to our Bible verses!--Do you remember that first +'ladder' we went up together? 'The Lord God is a sun and a shield; the +Lord will give grace and glory.'--In that sunlight I shall think of you +as abiding,--I will remember that you are covered by that shield. I +know that the Lord will keep all that I have committed to him! + +Now darling, if I could leave you 'messages,' I would; but they must +wait till I come and deliver them myself. Take, in the mean while, all +possible love and trust; and all comfort from the cause of my absence, +from our mutual work, from my expected coming home now and then--from +the diamonds on your finger and what they betoken! The diamonds stay +with you, Faith, but their light goes with me. + +My child, I have too much to say to write any longer!--I shall be drawn +on too far and too long,--it is not far from daybreak now. Take the +best possible care of your self, and 'be strong and of a good courage,' +and 'the Lord that made heaven and earth, bless thee out of Zion'! + +Precious child, you do not know how deeply I am + +Always your own-- + +ENDECOTT." + + +The first lines of the letter wrung some tears from Faith's eyes, but +afterwards the effect of the whole was to shake her. She sat down on +the couch with the letter fast in her hand, and hid her head; yet no +weeping, only convulsive breaths and a straitened breast. Faith was +wonderful glad of that letter! but the meeting of two tides is just +hard to bear; and it wakened everything as well as gladness. However, +in its time, that struggle was over too; and she went down to Mrs. +Derrick looking much like her wonted self. + +She went about so, all the day; nervously busy, though never more +orderly about her business. In the kitchen and dairy and storeroom, and +with her mother, Faith seemed as usual, with a very little of grave +thoughtfulness or remembrance thrown over her natural pleasantness; +only she gave books a wide berth, and took care to see no face that +came to the house. One would have thought her--perhaps Mrs. Derrick +even did--quietly composed and patiently submitting to trial, as if Mr. +Linden had been already weeks away. Perhaps Faith herself thought so. A +little thing shewed how much this quiet was worth. + +The day had been gone through; the tea was over, as it might, with the +two alone; and mother and daughter had gone into the other room. Faith +lit the lamp, and then began a sentence to her mother about laying the +Bible in its place for prayer--when she stopped short. For a moment she +stood still with the revulsion; then she fell on her knees and hid her +face in Mrs. Derrick's lap, and the tears that had kept back so long +came in a stormy flood; clearing the sky which had not been clear +before. She was quiet really after that; she had no more fear of her +books; and the first thing Faith did was to take pen and paper and pour +out an answer to her morning's letter; an answer in which she gave Mr. +Linden the history of her whole day, with very little reservation. + +Her mother watched her,--sat and looked at her as she wrote, with eyes +very glistening and tremulous in their fond admiration. Indeed that had +been their character all day, though Mrs. Derrick had followed Faith in +her busy work, with no attempt to check her, with no allusion to what +they both thought of uninterruptedly. Now, however, that Faith's tears +had made their own way, her mother's heart was easier; and she watched +the pretty writer by the lamp with all sorts of sweet and tender +thoughts. + +A day or two passed, in great quiet and tender ministering to each +other of the mother and daughter. Faith had taken deep hold of her +studies again and every minute of the day was filled up as busily as +ever. So the sitting-room wore in all things minus one its wonted +aspect, when, the third evening, it received Dr. Harrison. + +He came in looking remarkably well, in his light dainty summer dress, +and with that gentle carelessness of movement and manner that suited +the relaxing persuasions of a hot summer day. He came in, too, a little +like a person who through long absences has forgotten how wonted he +used to be in a certain place or how fond he was of what he found +there. Nothing further from the truth! + +He accosted both ladies after his usual gay fashion, and talked for a +while about nothings and as if he cared about nothing. He could make +nothing of Faith, except perhaps that she was a trifle shy of him. That +did not mean evil necessarily; it was natural enough. He wouldn't +disturb her shyness! + +"I have a sympathetic feeling for you, Mrs. Derrick," he remarked. "I +miss Mr. Linden so much in Pattaquasset, I can't think how you must do +in the house." + +"No, doctor, you can't," was Mrs. Derrick's quiet rejoinder. + +"How do you?" + +"Why I can't tell you, either," said Mrs. Derrick. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said the doctor, "I shouldn't like to be a lawyer and +have to examine you as a witness. Unless it wasn't August!" + +"Well I suppose we should agree upon that, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick. +"I don't know what August has to do with it." + +"My dear madam, it would be too much trouble!--Apparently it isn't +August everywhere!"--A very peremptory rap at the front door came in +the train of footsteps that were loud and brisk as by authority, and +that had quite survived the enervating effects referred to by the +doctor. + +"Miss Faith," said Cindy appearing at the parlour door, "here's a man's +got something--and he won't give it to me without I'll take oath I'm +you--which of course I dursn't. I'm free to confess, I can't even get +sight of it. Shall I fetch him in--thing and all?" + +Faith went to the door. It was nobody more terrific than an +express-man, who seemed to recognize "Miss Faith Derrick" by instinct, +for he asked no questions--only put a package into her hands, and then +gave her his book to sign. Faith signed her name, eagerly, and then ran +up stairs with her treasure and a beating heart, and struck a light. + +There was no need to ask where it came from--the address was plain +enough; nor much need to ask what it was--she knew that it must be her +Bible. Yet that only heightened the pleasure and interest, as she took +off one wrapping paper after another, till its own beautiful morocco +covers appeared. Within was the perfection of type and paper, with here +and there a fine coloured map; in size and shape just that medium which +seems to combine the excellencies of all the rest. There was no letter +in the package, but a slip of paper with a new "ladder of verses" +marked the place where they began; and on the fly leaf, below the +inscription, was written the first verse of the ninety-first psalm. +This was the leading reference on the slip of paper. + +Has any one--with any heart--ever received such a package? To such a +one there is no need to tell the glow of pleasure, the rush of +affection and joy, which filled Faith's heart and her face; to anybody +else it's no use. She had to exercise some care to prevent certain +witnesses of the eyes from staining the morocco or spotting the leaves. +The paper of references she left, to be enjoyed more leisurely another +time; and went on turning over the pages, catching glimpses of the +loved words that she had never seen so fairly presented to the eye +before; when after a good deal of this sort of delectation, through +half of which she was writing a letter to Mr. Linden, Faith suddenly +recollected Dr. Harrison! Softly the paper wrappers enfolded her +treasure, and then Faith went down stairs with the high colour of +pleasure in her cheeks. The doctor took several observations. + +He had not been profiting by any opportunity to "examine" Mrs. Derrick. +On the contrary, he had talked about everything else, somewhat August +fashion, in manner, but yet so cleverly that even Mrs. Derrick +confessed afterwards she had been entertained. Now, on Faith's +reappearance, he went on with his subject until he came to a natural +pause in the conversation; which he changed by remarking, in a simple +tone of interest, + +"I haven't learned yet satisfactorily what took Mr. Linden away?" + +"His own business," said Mrs. Derrick. "You must have heard what he is +about now, doctor?" + +"I have heard--but one hears everything. It is true then?" + +"O yes, it's true," said Mrs. Derrick with an even play of her +knitting-needles. + +"But then follows another very natural question," said the +doctor.--"Why did he come here at all?" + +"I dare say he'd tell you if he was here--as I wish he was," said Mrs. +Derrick,--"Mr. Linden always seemed to have good reasons for what he +did." + +"I think that too," said the doctor. "I am not quite so sure of his +telling them to me. But Pattaquasset has reason to be very sorry he is +gone away! What sort of a preacher will he make, Mrs. Derrick?" + +"He's a good one now--" said Mrs. Derrick with a smile that was even a +little moved. "Don't you think so, doctor?" + +"How dare you ask me that, Mrs. Derrick?" said the doctor with slow +funny utterance. "But I will confess this,--I would rather have _him_ +preach to me than you." + +"What sort of a bad reason have you got for that?" she said, looking at +him. + +"Miss Faith," said the doctor with the mock air of being in a +dilemma,--"you are good at definitions, if I remember--what is the +proper character of a _bad reason!_" + +Faith looked up--he had never seen her look prettier, with a little +hidden laughter both on and under her face and that colour she had +brought down stairs with her. But her answer was demure enough. + +"I suppose, sir, one that ought not to be a reason at all,--or one that +is not reason enough." + +"Do you consider it a bad reason for my not liking Mrs. Derrick's +preaching, that I am afraid of her?" + +"I shouldn't think it was reason enough," said Faith. + +"Do you like preaching from people that you are afraid of?" + +"Yes. At least I think I should. I don't know that I ever really was +afraid of anybody." + +These words, or the manner which went with them, quite obliterated the +idea of Mrs. Derrick from the doctor's head. But his manner did not +change. He only addressed his talk to Faith and altered the character +of it. Nothing could be more cool and disembarrassed. He had chosen his +tactics. + +They were made to regulate likewise the length of his visit, though the +short summer evening had near run its course before he (in +parliamentary phrase) "was on his legs" not to speak but to go. Then +strolling on to the front door, he there met Reuben Taylor; flush in +the doorway. The boy stept back into the hall to let him cone out; +whence, as the doctor saw through the open window,--he went at once to +Faith's side. But either accidentally or of design, Reuben stood so +directly before her, that Dr. Harrison could see neither face--indeed +could scarce see her at all. The little business transaction that went +on then--the letter which Reuben took from his pocket and then again +from its outer enveloppe,--the simple respect and pleasure with which +he gave it to Faith--though colouring a little too,--all this was +invisible, except to Mrs. Derrick. Faith's face would have told the +doctor the whole. The pretty colour--the dropped eyes--and the +undertone of her grateful, "I am very much obliged to you, Reuben!" + + +Reuben made no verbal answer, and staid not a minute longer, but the +pleasure of his new trust was wonderful! + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + + +Faith did not have as uninterrupted a time for studies as she had +counted upon for the next few months. In the first place, letters took +a great many hours. In the second place, her studies were pretty +frequently broken up of an evening by Dr. Harrison. + +He certainly came often; whether it was because of the strength of +attraction in that particular house, or the failure of any attraction +beside in all the coasts of Pattaquasset, was a problem which remained +unsolved by anything in the doctor's manner. His manner was like what +it had been the evening just recounted. He amused himself, after his +nonchalant fashion, and amused his hearers; he did not in the mean time +call upon them for any help at all. He discerned easily that Faith had +a little shyness about her; that might mean one thing or it might mean +another; and Dr. Harrison was far too wise to risk the one thing by +endeavouring to find out whether it was the other. The doctor was no +fisher had no favour for the sport; but if he had been, he might have +thought that now he was going to give his fish a very long line indeed, +and let it play to any extent of shyness or wilfulness; his hand on the +reel all the time. + +The talk that would do for Miss Essie would not please Faith. The +doctor knew that long ago. He drew upon his better stores. His +knowledge of the earth we live on; his familiarity with nature's and +art's wonders; history and philosophy; literature and science; and a +knowledge of the world which he used as a little piquant spice to +flavour all the rest of his knowledge. Thrown in justly, with a nice +hand, so as not to offend, it did rather serve to provoke a delicate +palate; while it unmistakably gratified his own. It was the salt to the +doctor's dish. + +But everything wants breaking up with variety, and variety itself may +come to be monotonous. He asked Faith one evening if she knew anything +of chymistry; and proceeded upon her reply to give her sundry bits of +detail and some further insight into the meaning and bearing of the +science. It was not August then, but it might have been, for the +leisurely manner in which the doctor "unwound his skein" of talk, as if +he were talking to himself or _for_ himself; and yet he was, and he +knew it, filling Faith's ears with delight. He took up the same subject +afterwards from time to time; beginning from any trifle of suggestion, +he would go off into an exquisite chymical discussion, illustrated and +pointed and ornamented, as no lecturer but one loving both his subject +and his _object_ could ever make it. After a while the doctor began to +come with bits of metal and phials of acids, and delight Faith and +astonish Mrs. Derrick by turning her sitting-room into an impromptu +laboratory. Such fumes! such gaseous odours! such ominous "reports", +were never known in and about Mrs. Derrick's quiet household; nor were +her basins and tumblers ever put to such strange, and in her view +hideous, uses. But Dr. Harrison rather seemed to enjoy what appeared at +first sight inconveniences; triumphed over the imperfections of tools +and instruments, and wrought wonders over which Faith bent with greater +raptures than if the marvels of Aladdin's lamp had been shewn before +her. The doctor began by slow degrees; he let all this grow up of +itself; he asked only for a tumbler the first time. And insensibly they +went on, from one thing to another; till instead of a tumbler, the +doctor would sometimes be surrounded with a most extraordinary retinue +and train of diversified crockery and china. An empty butter-tub came +to do duty for a water-bath; bottles and jars and cups and glasses, of +various shapes and dimensions, attended or waited upon the doctor's +operations; and with a slight apology and assurance to Mrs. Derrick he +on more than one or two occasions appropriated the clock-shade for his +use and behoof as a receiver. Then siphons began to come in the +doctor's pocket; and glass tubes, bent and straight, open and sealed, +in the doctor's hand; and one of his evenings came to be "better than a +play." A most beautiful and exquisite play to Faith. Yet Dr. Harrison +never forgot his tactics; never let his fish feel the line; and to +Faith's joyous "How shall I ever thank you, Dr. Harrison!"--would reply +by a dry request that she would induce Mrs. Derrick to have muffins for +tea some evening and let him come. + +And what did Dr. Harrison gain by all this? He did gain some hours of +pleasure--that would have been very exquisite pleasure, but for the +doubt that haunted him, and respecting which he could get no data of +decision. The shyness and reserve did pass away from Faith; she met him +and talked with him as a pleasant intimate friend whose company she +enjoyed and who had a sort of right to hers; the right of friendship +and kindliness. But then he never did anything to try her shyness or to +call up her reserve. He never asked anything of her that she _could_ +refuse. He never advanced a step where it could with decency be +repressed. He knew it. But he bided his time. He did not know what +thorough and full accounts of all his evenings went--through the +post-office. + +He knew, and it rather annoyed him, that Reuben Taylor was very freely +admitted and very intimately regarded in the house. There was perhaps +no very good reason why this should have annoyed the doctor. Yet +somehow he always rather identified Reuben Taylor with another of his +friends. He found out, too, that Reuben much preferred the times when +he, the doctor, was not there; for after once or twice coming in upon +sulphuric acid and clock shades (from which he retreated faster than if +it had all been gun-powder) Reuben changed his hour; and the doctor had +the satisfaction of wishing him good evening in the porch--or of +passing him on the sidewalk--or of hearing the swing of the little gate +and Reuben's quick bound up the steps when his own feet were well out +in the common ground of the road. + +Mrs. Derrick expressed unequivocally (to Faith, not the doctor) her +dislike of all chymical "smells" whatever, and her abhorrence of all +"reports" but those which went off after the doctor's departure; the +preparation of which Mrs. Derrick beheld with a sort of vindictive +satisfaction. Mr. Linden enjoyed his letters unqualifiedly, sometimes +wrote chymical answers--now and then forestalling the doctor, but +rarely saying much about him. Faith was in little danger of annoyance +from anything with her mother sitting by, and for the rest Dr. Harrison +was at his own risk. Letters were too precious--every inch of them--to +be much taken up with discussing _him_. Other things were of more +interest,--sometimes discussion, sometimes information, oftenest of +all, talk; and now and then came with the letter some book to give +Faith a new bit of reading. Above all, the letters told her--in a sort +of indefinable, unconscious way, how much, how much her presence was +missed and longed for; it seemed to her as if where one letter laid it +down the next took it up--not in word but in atmosphere, and carried it +further. In that one respect (though Faith never found it out) the +chymical accounts gave pain. + +Faith in her letters never spoke directly of this element of his; but +she made many a gentle effort to meet it and soothe what could be +soothed. To this end partly were her very full accounts of all the +course of her quiet life. As fearlessly and simply as possible Faith +talked, to him; quite willing to be found wrong and to be told so, +wherever wrong was. It was rather by the fulness of what she gave him, +than by any declaration of want on her own part, that Mr. Linden could +tell from her letters how much she felt or missed in his absence. She +rarely put any of that into words, and if it got in atmospherically it +was by the subtlest of entrances. When she spoke it at all, it was +generally a very frank and simple expression of strong truth. + +Of out-door work, during all this time, she had a variety. For some +time after Mr. Linden's going away, neither Mrs. Stoutenburgh nor the +Squire had been near the house; but then they began to amuse themselves +with taking her to drive, and whenever Faith could and would go she was +sure of a pleasant hour or two out in the brisk autumn air, and with no +danger of even hearing Mr. Linden's name mentioned. The silence indeed +proved rather too much, but it was better than speech. Then she and +Reuben had many excursions, short and long. Sometimes the flowers or +eggs or tracts were sent by him alone, but often Faith chose to go too; +and he was her ever ready, respectful, and efficient escort,--respect +it was truly, of the deepest and most affectionate kind. And thus--on +foot or with Jerry--the two went their rounds; but at such houses Faith +must both hear and speak of Mr. Linden--there was always some question +to answer, some story to hear. + +It happened, among Dr. Harrison's other pleasures, that he several +times met them on these expeditions; generally when he was driving, +sometimes when they were too; but one late November afternoon--not late +in the month but late in the day, fortune favoured him. Strolling along +for an unwonted walk, the doctor beheld from a little hill Faith and +Reuben in the valley below,--saw them go up to the door of a cottage, +saw Faith go in, and Reuben sit down in the porch and take out his +book. It was a fair picture,--the brown woodland, the soft sunlight, +the little dark cottage, the pretty youthful figures with their quick +steps and natural gestures, and the evening hue and tone of everything. +But the doctor did not admire it--and went down the hill without even +taking off his hat to the chickadees that bobbed their black caps at +him from both sides of the road. By the porch the doctor suddenly +slackened his pace, looked within, nodded to Reuben, and came to a halt. + +"Have I accidentally found out where you live, Reuben?" + +"I live down by the shore, sir," said Reuben standing up. + +"I thought--" said the doctor, "I had got an impression that you were +not a thorough-going Pattaquasseter--but you looked so much at home +there.--Where _do_ you live? whereabouts, I mean; for the shore +stretches a long way." + +Reuben gave the vernacular name of the little rocky coast point which +was his home, but the point itself was too much out of the doctor's +'beat' to have the name familiar. + +"How far off is that?" + +"About four miles from here, sir." + +"May I ask what you are studying so diligently four miles from home at +this hour?" + +Reuben coloured a good deal, but with not more than a moment's +reluctance held out his book for the doctor's inspection. It was a +Bible. The doctor's face changed, ever so little; but with what +feeling, or combination of feelings, it would have taken a much wiser +reader of men and faces than Reuben to tell. It was only a moment, and +then he stood with the book in his hand gravely turning it over, but +with his usual face. + +"I once had the pleasure of asking you questions on some other +matters," he remarked,--"and I remember you answered well. Can you pass +as good an examination in this?" + +"As to the words, sir? or the thoughts?--I don't quite know," said +Reuben modestly. + +"Words are the signs of thoughts, you know." + +"Yes, sir--but nobody can know all the Bible thoughts--though some +people have learned all the Bible words." + +The doctor gave a little sort of commenting nod, rather approving than +otherwise. "You are safe here," he paid as he handed the book back to +Reuben; "for in this study I couldn't examine you. What are you +pursuing the study for?--may I ask?" + +"If you don't know!" was in the boy's full gaze for a moment. But he +looked down again, answering steadily--"'Thy word have I hid in my +heart, that I might not sin against thee!'--I love it, Dr. +Harrison--and it shews me the way to serve God." + +"Well," said the doctor rather kindly--"if I hadn't interrupted you, +how much more study would you have accomplished before you thought it +time to set oft for that four miles' walk home--to that unpronounceable +place?" + +"I don't know, sir--I am not obliged to be there by any particular time +of night." + +"No, I know you are not. But--excuse my curiosity!--are you so fond of +the Bible that you stop on the way home to read it as you go along? or +are you waiting for somebody?" + +The words brought the colour back with a different tinge, but Reuben +simply answered, "No, sir--I did not stop here to read. I am waiting." + +"For Miss Derrick, are you not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Then I dare say Miss Derrick will release you for this time, and allow +me to attend her home, whither I am going myself." + +"I must wait till she comes out, sir," Reuben said, with the respectful +intractability which the doctor remembered. + +"Of course!" he said. "Did you ever take lessons of anybody but Mr. +Linden?--" But at this point the house door opened and Faith came out. + +"Miss Faith," said the doctor, after his greeting which was thoroughly +in character, "if you will tell your escort here--who I am sure is a +staunch one--that you need him no longer, he will feel free to begin +his long walk to the shore,--and I shall have the rare pleasure and +honour of going home with you." + +Faith turned frankly. "Do you want to go home, Reuben?" + +"No, Miss Faith"--was the equally frank, low-spoken answer,--"not +unless you want me to go." Reuben could but speak the truth--and he did +try to speak it with as little offence as possible; though with an +instinctive feeling that the time "when truth will be truth and not +treason," had not yet arrived. "I mean, that I want to do just what you +wish," he added looking up at her. + +"I don't want you to go, then," said Faith laughing, "for I mean that +you shall come home to tea with me. Dr. Harrison, I will invite you +too," she said turning her bright face towards him. "I _believe_--there +are muffins to-night." + +"Miss Faith,"--said the doctor,--"you are an angel!" + +"What is the connexion between that and muffins?" said Faith merrily, +for Reuben was at her side and she felt free. + +"You mistake the connexion," said the doctor gravely. "Angels are +supposed to be impartial in their attentions to the human race, and not +swayed by such curious--and of course arrogant--considerations as move +the lower herd of mortals. To an immaterial creature, how can the +height of a door be material!" + +"But I think you are mistaken," said Faith gently. "I don't believe any +creatures mind more what they find inside the door." + +"What did you find inside that door?" said the doctor. + +Faith hesitated. "Do you know to-morrow is Thanksgiving day, Dr. +Harrison?" + +"I am not quite sure that I ought to say I know it--though my father +did read the proclamation. I suppose I know it now." + +"I found inside of that door some people who could not make pumpkin +pies--and Reuben and I have been carrying them one of mother's." + +"What a day they will have of it!" said the doctor,--"if Mrs. Derrick's +pies are made in the same place as her muffins. But can _you_ find +nothing better to do than running round the country to supply the +people that haven't pies?" + +"Not many things pleasanter,"--said Faith looking at him. + +"I see I was right," said he smiling. "I have no doubt angels do that +sort of thing. But it is a sort of pleasure of which I have no +knowledge. All my life I have pleased only myself. Yet one would wish +to have some share in it, too. I can't make pies! And if I could, I +shouldn't know in the least where to bestow them. Do you think you +could take this now," said he producing a gold eagle, "and turn it into +pumpkins or anything else that you think will make people happy--and +see that they get to the right places?--for me?" + +"Do you mean it seriously, Dr. Harrison?" + +"If you will have the condescension!" + +"Oh thank you!" said Faith flushing with joy,--"oh thank you! I am very +glad of this, and so will many others be. Dr. Harrison, I wish you +could know the pleasure this will give!--the good it will do." + +"I don't think a ten-dollar piece ever gave _me_ so much pleasure," +said he looking a little moved. "About the good I don't know; that's +not so easy." + +Faith left that point for him to consider, though with many a wish in +her own heart. But the walk home brightened into a very pleasant one +after that. + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + + +The soft grey clouds which had hung about the setting sun only waited +his departure to double their folds and spread them all over the sky. +Then the wind rose, sweeping gustily through the bare branches, and +heavy drops of rain fell scatteringly on the dead leaves. But when wind +and rain had taken a little more counsel together, they joined forces +in a wild stormy concert which swept on with increasing tumult. It did +not disturb Faith and her mother, at their quiet work and reading,--it +did not deter Cindy from going over night to spend Thanksgiving day +with her friends,--but it was a wild storm nevertheless; and while the +hours of the night rolled on over the sleepers in Mrs. Derrick's house, +still wind and rain kept up their carousal, nor thought of being quiet +even when the morning broke. + +"But rather, giving of thanks."--That was the motto of the day--the one +answer to the many vexed questions of life and care. Care was pressing, +and life distracting, and everywhere was something that seemed to call +for tears or complaints. To all of these the day answered--"But rather, +giving of thanks." + +It was dark enough when Faith awoke; and she sat up in bed a minute or +two, listening to the wild blasts of wind and the heavy pattering of +the rain,--hearing the screech of the locomotive as the train swept by +in the distance, with a pang at the thought of its freight of +homeward-bound and expected dear ones,--then taking the day's motto, +and gently and quietly going about the day's work. But the first of its +work for her, was to cancel the bit of work it had already done by +itself; and for that Faith went to her Bible,--went first to the list +of texts that had come with it; endeavouring to realize and make sure +her ground on that verse of the 91st Psalm--then on from that to its +following-- + + "For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion." + + +It was not a "time of trouble." Faith would not call it so. Never so +bright a Thanksgiving day had risen upon her, spite of its clouds. But +trouble might come; in the course of life-experience she knew it was +pretty sure to come; and she sought to refuge herself beforehand in the +promise of that pavilion of hiding. The driving wind and storm that +emblematized another kind, gave emphasis also to the emblem of shelter. +How Faith blessed her Bible! + +The next verse enlarged a little.-- + +"Thou shalt hide them in the secret of thy presence from the pride of man: +thou shalt keep them secretly in a pavilion from the strife of tongues." + + +Then followed the joyful acceptance of that promise-- + +"Thou art my hiding place; thou shalt preserve me from trouble; thou +shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance." + + +Then its result-- + +"I am like a green olive tree in the house of God: I trust in the +mercy of God for ever and ever." + +"From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is +overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For thou hast +been a shelter for me, and a strong tower from the enemy. I will abide +in thy tabernacle for ever; I will trust in the covert of thy wings." + + +What strong refuge! what riches of trust!--How very bright Faith's +fire-lit room looked, with the wind whistling all about, and the red +light on her open Bible. She turned on. And like the full burst of a +chorus after that solo, she seemed to hear the whole Church Militant +say,-- + + "Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations." + + +Her mind swept back to the martyr ages,--to times when the church's +road has been in darkness and in light, and the long train of pilgrims +have gone over it in light and in darkness, each with that staff in his +hand. Faith looked long at those words, seeming to see the great "cloud +of witnesses" pass in procession before her. How true the words were to +Abraham, when he left his home. How true to Daniel when he was thrown +to the lions. How true they were to Stephen when he uttered his dying +cry!--how true to the little child whom she had seen go to be with +Christ for ever!--"In all generations." + +The prophets, true to their office, threw the light for ward.-- + + "He shall be for a sanctuary." + +"Although I have cast them far off among the heathen, and although +I have scattered them among the countries, yet will I be to them as a +little sanctuary in the countries where they shall come." + +"I will be as the dew unto Israel: he shall grow as the lily, and cast +forth his roots as Lebanon. His branches shall spread, and his beauty +shall be as the olive tree, and his smell as Lebanon." + + +The next words gave the whole description, the whole key of entrance. + +"Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in +him and he in God. And we have known and believed the love that God +hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, +and God in him." + + +Here was the "Sanctuary" on earth,--the foreshewing image of the one on +high. + +"I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are +the temple of it." + + +How far Faith had got from the earthly Thanksgiving day--even to that +finished and everlasting one on high! She had of course read and +studied these passages all before--once; and then she had shut them up +as a particular casket of treasures that she would not grow too +familiar with suddenly, but would keep to enjoy their brightness +another time. Something this Thanksgiving morning had made Faith want +them. She now sat looking at the last words, feeling as if she wanted +nothing. + +The wind and the rain still raged without, drowning and merging any +sounds there might be in the road, though truly few animate things were +abroad at that hour in that weather. Mr. Skip had roused himself, +indeed, for his day's pleasure, and after lighting the kitchen fire had +gone forth--leaving it to take care of itself; but when the door closed +after him, Faith and her fire looked at each other in the same +stillness as before. Until she heard the front door open and +shut,--that was the first sound, and the last,--no unwonted one, +either; that door opened and shut twenty times a day. What intangible, +well-recognized modification in its motions now, made Faith's heart +bound and sink with sudden belief--with swift denial? Who was it? at +that hour! Faith sprang to the parlour door, she did not know how, and +was in the dark hall. A little gleam of firelight followed her--a +little faint dawn came through the fanlight of the door: just enough to +reveal to Faith those very outlines which at first sight she had +pronounced "pleasant." One more spring Faith made; with no scream of +delight, but with a low exclamation, very low, that for its many-folded +sweetness was like the involutions of a rosebud. + +"Faith!" he exclaimed. "Don't touch me till I get out of the +rain!"--which prohibition Faith might consider useless, or might think +that--shuttlecock fashion--it had got turned round in the air. + +"The best place to get out of the rain is in here," she said trying to +draw him along with her. "Oh Endy! how came you in it?" + +"If you say three words to me, I shall give you the benefit of all the +remaining raindrops," said Mr. Linden, disengaging himself to throw off +his overcoat,--"how can one do anything, with you standing there? How +came I in it?--I came in it! Precious child! how do you do?" And she +was taken possession of, and carried off into the next room, like a +rosebud as she was, to have the same question put a great many times in +a different way. More words for her, just then, Mr. Linden did not seem +to have. Nor Faith for him. She stood very still, her face in a glow of +shy joy, but her eyes and even her lips grave and quiet; except when +sometimes a very tiny indicatory smile broke half way upon them. + +"When did you come?" + +"I came in the night train. Mignonette--are you glad to see me?" + +The smile shewed her teeth a little. They would bear shewing, but this +was only a glimmer of the white enamel. + +"Then you have been travelling all night?" + +"Yes. How are you going to prove your position?" + +"What position, Endy?" + +"That you are glad to see me." + +"I don't know,"--she said looking up at him. + +"You cannot think of any proof to give me?" + +"I can think of a great many." + +"I am ready to take them!" said Mr. Linden demurely. + +"Then if you will sit down and let me leave you for a few minutes, I +will see what I can do." + +"Thank you--the proofs that I mean would by no means take you further +off. Suppose you see what you can do without going away." + +She laid her head down for a minute, colouring too, even the cheek that +was high-coloured before; but she looked up again. + +"Stoop your high head, then, Endy!"--she said;--and she gave him two +kisses, as full and earnest as they were soft. There was no doubt Faith +had proved her position! + +"Faith, darling," he said, "have you been growing thin?--or is it only +that I have had to do with such substantial humanity of late. Look up +here and let me see--are you anything but the essence of Mignonette?" + +The face she shewed was aptly named; about as pure as that. With grave, +loving intentness--not the less grave for its little companion +smile--Mr. Linden studied her face for a minute,--pushing back her hair. + +"Do you think,"--she said then in a light soft tone--a departure from +the last words,--"do you think you won't want the essence of something +else by and by, Endecott?" + +"No,"--decidedly,--"I want nothing but you--so you may as well make up +your mind to want nothing but me." + +"Do you know what that would end in?" + +"Not necessarily in such a simple duet," said Mr. Linden +smiling,--"people do not always realize their ideal. Mignonette, you +are just as lovely as you can be!--and you need not bring Miss Reason +to keep me in order. I suppose if _she_ were in the house it would end +in her wanting her breakfast." + +"I don't like Miss Keason," said Faith, "and the only thing I am +thinking of putting in order is the kitchen fire. Would you like to go +there with me? Nobody's in the house--Cindy went yesterday to a +wedding, and Mr. Skip is gone home to keep Thanksgiving." + +"That is the best thing I ever heard of Cindy," said Mr. Linden. "Of +course I will go!--and play Ferdinand again Faith, would the doctor +call me an 'acid'--come to dissolve all his crystals?" + +"Dr. Harrison gave me ten dollars yesterday for the poor people," said +Faith as she led the way to the kitchen. Arrived there, she placed a +chair for Mr. Linden and requested him to be seated; while she examined +into the state of the fire. The chair was disregarded--the fire +received double attention. + +"Faith," he said laughingly, "I bear the curb about as well as +Stranger. I have a great mind to tell you how that eagle stands in the +doctor's memorandum book!" + +Faith dropped her hands for the moment and looked at him, with grave +eyes of wide-open attention. The look changed Mr. Linden's purpose,--he +could not bear to take away all the pleasure the eagle had brought on +his gold wings. + +"I don't believe there is such a book in existence," he said lightly. +"Miranda, what would you like to have me do for you now?--the fire is +ready for anything." + +"I haven't anything ready for it yet," said Faith, "but I will have--if +you'll wait a bit."--She left him there, and ran off--coming back in a +little while. And then Mr. Linden was initiated, if he never was +before, in kitchen mysteries. Faith covered herself with a great apron, +rolled up her sleeves above the elbows, and with funny little glances +at him between whiles, went round the room about various pieces of +work. Almost noiselessly, with the utmost nicety of quick and clean +work, she was busy in one thing after another and in two or three at +the same time; while Mr. Linden stood or sat by the fire looking on. +Two things he comprehended; the potatoes which were put over the fire +to boil and the white shortcakes which finally stood cut out on the +board ready for baking. The preliminary flour and cream and mixing in +the bowl had been (culinary) Sanscrit to him. He had watched her +somewhat silently of late, but none the less intently: indeed in all +his watching there had been a silent thread woven in with its laughing +and busy talk,--his eyes had followed her as one follows a veritable +sunbeam, noting the bright gleams of colour here, and the soft light +there, and thinking of the time when it must quit the room. + +"Faith," he said as she cut out her cakes, "are these what you made for +me the first night I came here?" + +"I believe so!" + +"What do you suppose you look like--going about the kitchen in this +style?--you make me think irresistibly of something." + +"I should like to know," said Faith with an amused laugh. + +"I shall make you blush, if I tell you," said Mr. Linden. + +That was enough to do it! Faith gave him one look, and went on with her +shortcakes. + +"You don't care about knowing, after all?" said Mr. Linden. +"Well,--Faith, do you expect ever to make such things in my +house?--because if you do, I think it will ensure my coming down stairs +before breakfast." + +How she flushed--over cheek and brow,--then remarked gravely that, "she +was glad he liked it." + +"Yes, and you have no idea what effects my liking will produce!" said +Mr. Linden. "You see, Faith, it may happen to us now and then to be +left without other hands than our own in the house (there is no +reliance whatever to be placed upon cottages!) and then you will come +down, as now, and I shall come too--taking the precaution to bring a +book, that nobody may suspect what I come for. Then enter one of my +parishioners--Faith, are you attending?" + +Faith had stopped, and poising her rolling pin the reverse way on the +board--that is, on end,--had leaned her arms upon it,--giving up +shortcakes entirely for the time being. + +"You will not be in that position," said Mr. Linden, "but going on +properly with your cakes--as you should be now. Then enter one of my +parishioners who lives six miles off, to ask me to come over to his +house and instruct him in the best way of hanging his gate,--which I of +course promise to do, notwithstanding your protestations that I know +nothing of that--nor of anything else. Parishioner goes away and +reports. One part of the people say how economical we are!--to make one +fire do our cooking and studying. Another part have their suspicions +that you keep me at hand to lift off the teakettle (much strengthened +by report of your protest.) And the charitable part at once propose to +raise my salary--so that we may have as many fires as we like. +Faith--what should we do in the circumstances?" + +Faith was biting her lips and rolling out cakes with the swiftest +activity, not allowing Mr. Linden a sight of her face. + +"If you hung the gate, I should think you would take the money"--she +answered demurely. + +"I said you would say I could not do it!" said Mr. Linden. "Which being +duly reported and considered by certain other people, will cause them +to shake their heads, and wish in half audible (but most telegraphic!) +whispers, 'that Mr. Linden were half as smart as his wife'!" + +Faith stopped again. "Oh Endy!"--she exclaimed between laughing and +pleading. + +"Que voulez-vous, Mademoiselle?" + +But Faith went at her cakes and finished the few that were left. + +"I think you must be very much in want of your breakfast," she said +coming to the fire. "You have played Prince Ferdinand--do you think you +would mind acting the part of King Alfred, for once?" + +"My dear, I will play any part for you whatever!--in our duet. Shall I +practise taking off the kettle to begin with?" + +"I don't think you had better,"--Faith said with a kept down +laugh,--"for it doesn't boil." + +"Shall I take you off then? What are you going to do while I play +Alfred?--I will not answer for my solo performances." + +"I shall not be gone but a few minutes. Do you think you could take +this little skillet from the fire if it _did_--boil?" + +Mr. Linden might have got into a reverie after she ran away;--but +certain it is that the skillet was in imminent danger of "boiling over" +when Faith appeared at his side and with a laughing look at him gently +lifted it off. + +"You are an excellent Alfred!" + +"What version of Alfred have you learned?" he said laughing, and +catching it from her hand before it reached the hearth. "I thought hot +water was his reward--not his work." + +"I thought, Endy, you would like to go up to your room before +breakfast. Mother will be down presently." + +"And am I to find the perfection of a fire, as usual?" said Mr. Linden, +taking both her hands in his and looking at her. "Little Sunbeam!--you +should not have done that! Do you know what you deserve?" + +She stood before him rather soberly, glancing up and down; but he +little guessed what her quietness covered. Though the lines of her lip +did give tiny indication that quietness was stirred somewhere. He drew +her to him for a moment, with one or two unconnected words of deep +affection, then turned and went away. Faith listened to hear the well +known run up the stairs--the familiar closing of that door,--how +strange it sounded! how gladsome, how sorrowful. She stood still just +where Mr. Linden had left her, as if sorrow and joy both held her with +detaining hands. + +"Why child? Faith!"--said Mrs. Derrick coming into the kitchen, "what +_are_ you about? What made you get up so early, Faith? What's the +matter?--breakfast ready at this time of day! Couldn't you sleep, +pretty child?" she added tenderly. + +"I didn't get up very much earlier than usual, mother. Don't you want +breakfast?" + +"Whenever you like, child," said her mother, taking hold in her +turn,--"but what's made you in such a hurry? And what makes you look +so, Faith?--You're not pale, neither,--how _do_ you look?" + +Faith came so close that her mother could not see, and kissed her. +"Mother, Mr. Linden is here." + +"Here!" said Mrs. Derrick with a little sympathetic start--it was not +all surprise, nor all joy.--"Pretty child! how glad I am! But why +didn't you call me, Faith?--and why don't you go and sit down and be +quiet--now you've just been tiring yourself, and I could have done the +whole! And of all things, how could he get here in such weather? No +wonder you're in a hurry, child!"--and Mrs. Derrick began to work in +earnest. + +Faith gave her the word or two more that she could give, and went to +the dairy. It was Faith's domain; she was alone, and her industry fell +from her hands. Breakfast and all might wait. Faith set down her bowl +and spoon, sat down herself on the low dairy shelf before the window, +cold and November though it was, and let the tears come, of which she +had a whole heartful in store; and for a little while they fell faster +than the raindrops which beat and rattled against the panes. But this +was a gentler shower, and cleared the sky. Faith rose up from the shelf +entirely herself again. + +So busy, skimming off the smooth cream, she felt the light touch of +hands on her shoulders--felt more than that on her cheek. Had the tears +left any trace there?--that Mr. Linden brought her face round into +view. He asked no such question, however, unless with his eyes. + +"Mignonette, what are you about?" + +"King Alfred's breakfast. I forgot you knew the way to the dairy!" + +"Or could find it if I did not. What shape does my breakfast take in +these regions?" + +"It takes the shape--Let us go back to the kitchen and we will see." + +It was spry work in the kitchen now! How Faith's fingers went about. +But Mr. Linden could make nothing of the form his breakfast was +taking--nothing of Faith's mysterious bowl, in which the cream he had +seen her skim went into compound with the potatoes he had seen boiling +and with also certain butter and eggs. The mixture went into the oven, +and then Faith went off to set the table in the parlour. As they were +alone to-day the fire in the dining-room was not to be kindled. + +The storm beat so differently upon the windows now!--now, when it was +only a barrier against people who were not wanted to come in. Mr. +Linden followed Faith in her motions, sometimes with eye and voice, +sometimes with his own steps; confusing both her and her arrangements, +making her laugh, and himself the cause of various irregularities in +the table-setting, which he was very quick to point out. + +"Mignonette," he said, "I think it is a perfect day! Do you hear how it +storms?" + +"And aren't you glad Cindy went to a wedding? And oh, Endy!--how many +people will be coming after you to-day?" Faith stopped, knife in hand. + +"Did you suppose that I would come here to see you, and then be obliged +to see half Pattaquasset instead? I stopped at Patchaug station,--there +Reuben met me, and we had as pleasant a four mile drive in the rain as +I ever remember. As to the wedding--I think there can never be more +than one other so felicitous." + +Faith ran off. + +And presently the breakfast came in, variously, in her hands and in +Mrs. Derrick's. It was broad light now, and the curtains drawn back, +but the red firelight still gave the hue of the room; and the +breakfast-table and the three people round it wanted for no element or +means of comfort. There were the shortcakes, which Mr. Linden might +more readily recognize now in their light brown flakiness--his coffee +was poured upon the richest of cream; the potatoes came out of the oven +in the shape of a great puff-ball, of most tender consistency; and the +remains of a cold chicken had been mystified into such a dish of +delicacy as no hands but a Frenchwoman's--or Faith's--could concoct. +It's a pleasant thing to be catered for by hands that love you. Mr. +Linden had found that pleasure this morning before. But both Faith and +he were undoubtedly ready for their breakfast! + +After breakfast came the consideration of a basketful of things Mr. +Linden had brought her. Very simple things they were, and unromantic +enough to be useful; yet with sentiment enough about them,--if that +name might be given to the tokens of a care that busied itself about +all the ins and outs of her daily life, and sought out and remembered +the various little things that she wanted and could not get; for the +various papers of sugarplums in which the whole were packed, Mr. Linden +declared them to be nothing but epithets and adjectives. + +The weather held on its way into the afternoon; but what was most +unexpected, the afternoon brought a visiter. Mr. Linden and Faith, deep +in talk, heard the sound of a foot on the scraper and then of a knock +at the door, which made them both start up. Faith went to the door. But +before she could open it, Mrs. Derrick came up behind her with swift +steps and remanded Faith to the parlour. + +"I'll open it, child," she said,--"it's no use for you to run the risk +of seeing anybody you don't want to." So Faith returned to Mr. Linden. +But the first word set all fears at rest--it was only Reuben Taylor. He +presented himself with many apologies, and would fain have told his +errand to Mrs. Derrick, but as it was for Faith, the good lady opened +the parlour door and bade Reuben go in,--which, as he could not help +it, Reuben did. But the colour of his face as he came in!--Mr. Linden +took the effect of it--Faith was partly occupied with her own; and +Reuben, thinking the sooner the quicker--walked straight up to her. + +"Miss Faith," he said, trying to speak as usual, "I beg your +pardon--but I was sent here with this,"--and Reuben presented a +moderately large round basket, without a handle. + +"Reuben, come up to the fire," said Mr. Linden; while Faith took the +basket and exclaimed, "This! Who in the world sent you, Reuben?--Yes, +come to the fire." + +"I am not cold, sir," Reuben said with a look towards where Mr. Linden +stood by the mantelpiece, as if his desire was to get out of the +room--instead of further in, though he did follow Faith a step or two +as she went that way. "I didn't mean to come here to-day, Mr. Linden, +but--" + +"Didn't mean to come here?" said Mr. Linden smiling,--"what have you +been doing, to be afraid of me? Faith, has your postman been remiss?" + +They were a pair, Reuben and Faith! though the colour of the one was +varying, while Reuben's was steady. Faith nevertheless seized the boy's +hand and drew him with gentle violence up to the fire. + +"Who sent you with this, Reuben?" + +"Dr. Harrison, Miss Faith. I was off on an errand after church, and one +of his men came after me and told me to come to the house. And there I +saw the doctor himself--and ho told me to bring you this basket, ma'am, +and that he didn't like to trust it to any one else. And--" but there +Reuben hesitated. + +"And that you were the only person he knew who would go through fire +and water for him?" said Mr. Linden. + +"No, sir, but--I suppose I've got to say it, since he told me to,--Dr. +Harrison said, Miss Faith, that--" the message seemed to stir both +Reuben's shame and laughter--"that he had begged a cake of his sister, +to go with your Thanksgiving pies--and that it was in the basket. And +that I needn't tell anybody else about it." + +"Reuben," said Mr. Linden laughing, "you needn't tell him that I shall +eat half the cake." + +"No, sir"--Reuben said,--and tried not to laugh, and couldn't help it. + +The third member of the trio shewed no disposition at all to much +laughter. She had put the basket down on the table and looked at it +from a distance, as if it had contained the four and twenty live +blackbirds--or a small powder magazine. The effect of his message +Reuben did not stay to see. He went round to Mr. Linden to ask if the +morning orders were unchanged, clasped hands with him--then bowed low +to Faith and went out. + +With very demure face Mr. Linden seated himself in one of the +easy-chairs, and looked towards the table, with the air of one who +expects--something! And not demurely but with grave consciousness, +Faith stood looking in the same direction; then her eyes went to Mr. +Linden. But his face did not relax in the least. + +"Do you suppose that basket holds a kitten?" he said contemplatively. + +Faith did not answer but walked over to the table and began the work of +investigation. Mr. Linden came too. "If you are to make feline +discoveries, I must stand by you, little bird," he said. + +The basket was carefully tied with a network of strings over the top; +then followed one paper after another, a silk paper at last,--and the +cake was revealed. The low exclamation that burst from Faith might be +characterized as one of mingled admiration and dismay. + +Certainly Dr. Harrison had amused himself that Thanksgiving day! +perhaps in terror of his old enemy, ennui. At least his basket looked +so. + +The cake lay upon a white paper in the basket, with a little space all +around. It was a rather small loaf with a plain icing. But round the +sides of it were trailed long sprays of ivy geranium, making a +beautiful bordering. The centre was crowned with a white camellia in +its perfection. From the tip edge of each outer petal depended a drop +of gold, made to adhere there by some strong gum probably; and between +the camellia and the ivy wreaths was a brilliant ring of gold spots, +somewhat larger, set in the icing. Somebody, and it was probably the +doctor, for want of better to do,--had carefully prepared the places to +receive them, so that they were set in the white like a very neat +inlay. It was presently seen that quarter eagles made the inlay, and +that the camellia was dropped with gold dollars. + +On the ivy lay a note. Faith looked at Mr. Linden as she took it up; +broke the seal, and hastily running over the paper gave it to him-- + + + +"MY DEAR MISS FAITH, + + + +My yesterday's speculation in pumpkins proved so successful, that like +a true speculator it made me want to plunge deeper--into the pumpkin +field! I find myself this morning dissatisfied with what I have +done--and beg to send a cake to go along with the pies--to be +apportioned of course as your judgment shall suggest. I begged the cake +from Sophy, who I am sure would not have given it to me if she had +known what I was going to do with it. + +Your pleasure, personal and representative, last night, is a reproach +to me whenever I think of it. Yet my unwonted hand knows neither how to +cut up cake, nor what to do with it when it is cut--except--_avaler!_ +Am I wrong in hoping that you will do me the grace to make available +what I should only--if I tried to do better with it--throw away? and +that as a token of your forgiveness and grace you will on the next +opportunity bestow a piece of pumpkin pie, such as you carried the +other night, on + + + +Your very respectful and most obedient servant, + + + +JULIUS HARRISON." + + + +PATTAQUASSET, Nov. 15, 18--. + + + +Mr. Linden read the note more deliberately than Faith had done, but his +face, the while, she could not read; though (fascinated by the +difficulty) her glances changed to a steady gaze. It was quietly +grave--that was all and not all,--and the note was given back to her +with a smile that spoke both "thoughts" of the doctor, and pleasure for +any pleasure Faith might have from his basket. But then some of the +deeper feeling came out in his comments--and they were peculiar. He had +stood still for a second after reading the note,--his eyes looking down +at the cake--gravely; but then they came to her; and suddenly taking +her in his arms Mr. Linden gave her--it would be hazardous to say, as +many kisses as Dr. Harrison had gold pieces--but certainly as many as +he had put in the basket, and more. Faith did not read them, either, at +first,--till the repetition--or the way of it, told what they were; the +glad saying that she was his, beyond any one's power to buy her,--more +than all, an indemnification to himself for all the gold he could not +lay at her feet! There needed no speech to tell her both. + +A word or two had answered his demonstrations, first a wondering word, +and then afterwards a low repetition of his name, in a tone of humble +recognition and protest. Now she looked up at him with a child's clear +face, full of the colour he had brought into it. + +"Little darling," he said, "you will have your hands full of business!" + +"Oh Endy--I am very sorry!" + +"Sorry?" Mr. Linden said. "What about?" + +"I'm sorry that basket has come here!" + +"It gives you the means of making other people glad." + +"Yes--but,"--Faith looked uncomfortably at the basket. Then brought her +eyes back to Mr. Linden's face. "What ought I to do, Endecott?" + +"The most good and the least harm you can in the circumstances." + +"How shall I,--the last?"--she said with a manner like a beautiful +child, truth struggling through embarrassment. + +"If you could contrive to make yourself disenchanting!" + +Faith passed that, and waited, her eyes making a grave appeal. Mr. +Linden smiled. + +"I am afraid you can only be yourself," he said. "And if Dr. Harrison +will not remove himself to a safe distance, there is not much to be +done, except with the money. Let him understand that you consent for +once to be his almoner, merely because you know better than he where +the need is,--that you take from him, as from anybody, a donation for +your poor and sick neighbours." + +"Must I write?" + +"No." + +"But, Endecott--is that all?" + +"All that I need say. You never did encourage him, Faith,--it may be a +long time before he gives you a chance to _dis_courage. There is one +thing I can do, if you wish." + +She had stood with an awakened, sorrowful look, the colour burning all +over face and brow. Now she startled and asked "What?" + +"Something you do _not_ wish. I can tell him that you belong to me." +But that indeed Faith did not wish. + +"Oh no, Endecott--I would rather manage it some other way. Now don't +let us lose any more of our afternoon with it--but come and tell me +what will be the best things to do with this money." + +"It is hard to tell all at once," Mr. Linden said as they once more +took their seats by the fire. "What have you thought of yourself?" + +"I know where one or two blankets are wanting. And O, Endy! there is +one place where I should like to send a rocking-chair--ever so common a +one, you know." + +"And if Ency Stephens had one of those little self-locomotive +carriages, she could go about by herself all day long." + +"How good that would be! as soon as the spring opens. You could send +one up from New York, Endecott. Do they cost much?" + +"I think not. And what do you say to taking a little portion of this +for the beginning of a free library for the poor people? If the thing +were once begun, Mr. Stoutenburgh would give you what you please to +carry it on,--and Mr. Simlins would help,--and so would I." + +"I was thinking of books!" said Faith, her eye dancing in an unknown +"library";--"but these would be books to _lend_. I think a great many +would like that, Endecott! O yes, we could get plenty of help. That is +a delightful plan!--I don't think I ought to be sorry that basket came, +after all," she added smiling. Mr. Linden smiled too--she was a pretty +Lady Bountiful! + +"Faith," he said, "suppose (it is a very presumptuous supposition, but +one may _suppose_ anything) suppose when my hands are free to take care +of my Mignonette, that I should have the offer of two or three +different gardens wherein to place her. How should I choose?" + +She coloured and looked at him somewhat inquiringly, then turned away +with a kept-in but very pretty smile. "I know," she said, "how you +would choose--and you would not ask me." + +"Yes I should, little unbeliever--I ask you now." + +"You would go," she said gravely--"where your hands were most wanted." + +"There spoke a true Sunbeam!" said Mr. Linden. But perhaps the word--or +something in the changing light of the afternoon--carried his thoughts +on to the night train which was to bear him away; for he left Dr. +Harrison, and baskets, and schemes, in the background; and drawing her +closer to his side talked of her affairs--what she had been doing, what +she meant to do, in various ways,--trying to leave as it were a sort of +network of his care about her. Then came twilight, and Mrs. Derrick and +tea; with Faith's light figure flitting to and fro in preparation; and +then prayers. And then--how fast the clock ticked! how fast the minutes +began to run away! + +The storm did not rest,--it blew and beat and poured down as hard as +ever, eddying round the house in gusts that made every word and every +minute within doors seem quieter and sweeter. And the words were many, +and the minutes too--yet they dropped away one by one, and the upper +glass was empty! + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + + +Faith fortified herself with a triple wall of mental resolves against +Dr. Harrison's advances. But when the doctor came again, a night or two +after Thanksgiving, there did not seem to be much that she could do--or +hinder. The doctor's lines of circumvallation were too skilfully drawn +for an inexperienced warrior like Faith to know very well where to +oppose him. He was not in a demonstrative mood at all; rather more +quiet than usual. He had just pushed an advanced work in the shape of +his golden cake; and he rested there for the present. + +To Faith's great joy, midway in the evening the doctor's monopoly was +broken by the entrance of Squire Stoutenburgh and a very round game of +talk. Faith seized the opportunity to present her claim for a free +library--answered with open hand on the spot. And when he was gone, she +sat meditating a speech, but she was prevented. The doctor, as if +unconsciously amusing himself, started a chymical question; and went on +to give Faith a most exquisite analysis and illustration. It was +impossible to listen coldly; it was impossible to maintain reserve. +Faith must be herself, and delight shone in every feature. Now could +Dr. Harrison enjoy this thoroughly and yet give no sign that he did so; +his eye watched hers, while Faith thought he was looking into depths of +science; his smile was a keen reflection of that on her lips, while she +fancied it called forth only by his own skill, or success, or +scientific power. He had produced the very effect he wanted; for the +moment, he had her all to himself. + +"Miss Faith," he said gently, as his demonstration came to an +end,--"you may command me for that library." + +Faith drew back and her mind returned to business again. The doctor saw +it, and was instantly sorry he had started the subject. + +"I was going to speak to you about that, Dr. Harrison. If you have no +objection, I shall take a little of that money you entrusted to me, for +it--the beginning of it. Only a little. The rest shall go as I suppose +you meant it to go." + +"I knew it was very sure to go right after it got into your hands. I +don't think I followed it any further." + +"It will make a great many people happy this winter, Dr. Harrison." + +"I hope it will," said he very sincerely; for he knew that if it made +_them_ it would her. + +"You have little notion how much," Faith went on gravely. "I will do +the best I can with it,--and if you had patience to hear, I would let +you know what, Dr. Harrison." + +"You do me less than justice, Miss Faith. You can hear me rant about +philosophical niceties,--and yet think that I would not have patience +to listen to a lecture from you upon my neglected duties!" + +"I didn't mean that, sir." + +He gave her a genial, recognizing little smile, which was not exactly +in his "part"--but came in spite of him. + +"Do you know, I should like to hear it, Miss Faith. I always like +lectures illustrated. What have you done already?" + +"There is an almost bed-ridden woman two miles off, who will bless +somebody all winter for the comfort of a rocking-chair--all her life, I +may rather say;--a common wooden one, Dr. Harrison." + +"That is a capital idea," said the doctor. "She will bless _you_, I +hope." + +"No, certainly! I shall tell her the money is not mine,--I am only +laying it out for a kind somebody." + +"Miss Faith," said the doctor,--"I am not kind!" + +"I think you are,"--was her gentle, somewhat wistful answer. The doctor +sprung up. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said he with all his comicality alive,--"Miss Faith +promised me a piece of pumpkin pie." + +He had it, and taking his old place on the rug slowly demolished it, +qualifying every morsel with such ridiculous correlative remarks, +allusions, and propositions,--that it was beyond the power of either +Mrs. Derrick or Faith to retain her gravity. But the moment the door +closed upon him, Faith looked sober. + +"Well, child?" said her mother. + +"Well, mother--I haven't written my French." + +And she sat down to write it, but studied something else. "Manage it +some other way"--she had said she would; it was not easy! What was she +going to do? the doctor asked nothing of her but ordinary civility; how +could she refuse him that? It was a puzzle, and Faith found it so as +the weeks went on. It seemed to be as Mr. Linden had said; that she +could do little but be as she had been, herself. That did not satisfy +Faith. + +It was a great relief, when about the middle of December the family +went to New York for a few weeks, and Dr. Harrison went with his +family. Once more she breathed freely. Then Faith and Reuben made +themselves very busy in preparing for the Christmas doings. Means +enough were on hand now. Reuben was an invaluable auxiliary as a +scout;--to find out where anything was pressingly wanted and what; and +long lists were made, and many trains laid in readiness against Mr. +Linden's arrival. And then he came! + +It was for a good week's holiday this time, and how it was enjoyed two +people knew--which was enough. Studies went on after the old fashion +during that week, and dinners and teas out made some unavoidable +interruptions, yet not on the whole unpleasant. And sleigh rides were +taken, day and night; and walks and talks not to be mentioned. Then the +Newyear's visiting--with such a budget of new varieties!--how pleasant +it was to go that round again together; and it was hard to make short +visits, for everybody wanted to see and hear so much of Mr. Linden. He +stayed one extra day after that--to see Faith when he had done seeing +everybody else, but then he went; and the coldness and quiet of winter +set in, broken only by letters. + +There was a break of another kind when Dr. Harrison came back, in the +middle of January; such a break to Faith's quiet that the coldness was +well nigh forgotten. She had doubly resolved she would have as little +as possible to do with him; and found presently she was having quite as +much as ever. + +The plan of rendering him a grave account of what she had done or was +doing with his money, so far as the plan regarded keeping him at a +distance, was a signal failure. Very simply and honestly it was done, +on her part; but it suited the doctor admirably; nothing could better +serve his purposes. Dr. Harrison heard her communication about some +relieved family or project of relief, with a pleasant sort of attention +and intelligence; and had skill, although really and professedly +unwonted in the like things, to take up her plans and make the most +happy suggestions and additions--often growing a large scheme upon a +small one, and edging in the additional means so insensibly, so +quietly, that though Faith saw he did it she could not tell how to +hinder and did not know that she ought. Mr. Linden had sent, as he +promised, his help for the library,--indeed sent from time to time some +new parcel; and without inquiring whether the money he had left for +_his_ poor people was exhausted, had sent her a fresh supply. But she +had none too much, from all sources. It was a winter of great severity +among the poorer portion of the community; work was hard to come by, +and the intense weather made food and clothing and tiring doubly in +demand. There were few starving poor people in Pattaquasset; but many +that winter lacked comforts, and some would have wanted bread, without +the diligent care of their better-off neighbours. And there as +everywhere, those who gave such care were few. Faith and Reuben had +plenty to do. But indeed not merely, nor chiefly, with the furnishing +of food to the hungry and firing to the cold; neither were those the +points where Dr. Harrison's assistance came most helpfully in. + +Little Ency Stephens wanted a flower now and then, as well as a +velocipede; and Dr. Harrison gave--not to Faith, but to Faith's hands +for her--a nice little monthly rose-bush out of the greenhouse. How it +smiled in the poor cottage and on the ailing child!--and what could +Faith do but with a swelling heart to wish good to the giver. A smoky +chimney was putting out the eyes of a poor seamstress. Dr. Harrison +quietly gave Reuben orders to have a certain top put to the chimney and +send the bill to him. He even seemed to be undertaking some things on +his own account. Faith heard through Reuben that he had procured the +office of post-mistress in Pattaquasset to be given to the distressed +family she and Mr. Linden had visited at Neanticut; and that Mrs. Tuck +and Mintie were settled at the post-office, in all comfort accordingly. +But worst of all! there were some sick people; and one or two for whom +Faith dared not refuse his offer to go with her to see them. Dared +still less after the first time he had actually gone; so great and +immediate she found the value, not of his medicines only, but of the +word or two of hint and direction which he gave her towards their help +and healing. Faith began to look forward to May with a breath of almost +impatience. But a change came before that. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + + +The spring came, with all its genial influences. Not now with such +expeditions as the last spring had seen, but with letters to take their +place, and with walks of business and kindness instead of pleasure. +Yes, of pleasure too; and Faith began to find her "knight" not only a +help and safeguard, but good company. Reuben was so true, so simple and +modest--was walking in such a swift path of improvement; was so devoted +to Faith and her interests, besides the particular bond of sympathy +between them, that she might have had many a brother and fared much +worse. The intercourse had not changed its character +outwardly--Reuben's simple ceremonial of respect and deference was as +strict as ever; but the thorough liking of first acquaintanceship had +deepened into very warm affection on both sides. With Dr. Harrison +Reuben gained no ground--or the doctor did not with him. Though often +working for him and with him, though invariably courteous with the most +respectful propriety, Faith could see that Reuben's old feeling was +rather on the increase. + +With the spring thaw came a freshet. It came suddenly, at the end of +the week; every river and stream rising into a full tide of +insurrection with the melting snows of Saturday, and Saturday night +bridges and mill dams went by the board. Among the rest, one of the +railway bridges near Pattaquasset gave way, and a full train from the +east set down its freight of passengers in Pattaquasset over Sunday. +They amused themselves variously--as such freight in such circumstances +is wont to do. Faith knew that the church was well filled that Sunday +morning, but the fact or the cause concerned her little--did not +disturb the quiet path of her thoughts and steps, until church was out +and she coming home, alone that day, as it happened. Then she found the +walk full and _her_ walk hindered. Especially by two gentlemen--who as +the others thinned off, right and left, still went straight on; not +fast enough to get away from Faith nor slow enough for her to pass +them. They were strangers, evidently, and town bred. One of them +reminded Faith of Dr. Harrison, in dress and style--both belonged to a +class of which she had seen few specimens. But she gave them little +heed (save as they detained her,) nor cared at all for their discussion +of the weather, or the place. Then suddenly her attention was caught +and held. + +"By the way!" said one--"this is the very place where Linden was so +long." + +"Who? Endecott Linden?" said Dr. Harrison's likeness. "What was he here +for?" + +"Teaching school." + +"Teaching school!" echoed the other,--"Endecott Linden teaching +school!--Pegasus in pound!--How did the rustics catch him?" + +"Pegasus came of his own accord, if I remember." + +"Pshaw, yes!--but Linden. For what conceivable reason did he let +himself down to teach school?" + +"He didn't--" said the other a little hotly. "He wouldn't let himself +down if he turned street-sweeper." + +"True--he has a sort of natural dais which he carries about with +him,--I suppose he'd make the crossing the court end. But I say, what +did he do _this_ for?" + +"Why--for money!" said the first speaker. "What an ado about nothing!" + +"Inconceivable! Just imagine, George, a man who can sing as he does, +teaching a, b, ab!" + +"Well--imagine it," said George,--"and then you'll wish you were six +years old to have him teach _you_." + +"How cross you are," said his friend lazily. "And despotic. Was there +nothing left of all that immense property? I've just come home, you +know." + +"Not much," said George. "A little--but Endecott wouldn't touch +that--it was all put at interest for Miss Pet. He would have it so, and +even supported her as long as she staid in the country. What he works +so hard for now I don't understand." + +"Works, does he? I thought he was studying for the church--going to +bury himself again. It's a crying shame! why he might be member, +minister, Secretary, President!" + +"He!" cried George in hot disdain,--"he soil his fingers with politics! +No--he's in the right place now,--there's no other pure enough for him." + +"I didn't know you admired the church so much," said his friend +ironically. + +"I don't--only the place in it where he'll stand. That's grand." + +"And so he's at work yet?" + +"Yes indeed--and it puzzles me. That year here ought to have carried +him through his studies." + +"Why what can he do?--not teach school now,--he's no time for it." + +"He can give lessons--and does. Makes the time, I suppose. You know he +has learned about everything _but_ Theology. Olyphant was telling me +about it the other day." + +"What a strange thing!" said the other musingly, "such a family, so +swept overboard! What a house that was! You remember his mother, +George?" + +"I should think so!--and the way Endecott used to sing to her every +night, no matter who was there." + +"Yes," said the doctor's confrere--"and come to her to be kissed +afterwards. I should have laughed at any other man--but it set well on +him. So did her diamond ring in his hair, which she was so fond of +handling. How did he make out to live when she died?" + +"I don't know--" said George with a half drawn breath--a little +reverently too: "I suppose he could tell you. But all that first year +nobody saw him--unless somebody in need or sorrow: _they_ could always +find him. He looked as if he had taken leave of the world--except to +work for it." + +"How courted he used to be!"--said the other--"how petted--_not_ +spoiled, strange to say. Do you suppose he'll ever marry, George? will +he ever find any one to suit his notions? He's had enough to choose +from already--in Europe and here. What do they say of him off +yonder--where he is now?" + +"They say he's--rock crystal,--because ice will melt," said George. "So +I suppose his notions are as high as ever." + +"You used to admire Miss Linden, if I remember," said his friend. "What +a ring that was!--I wonder if she's got it. George--I sha'n't walk any +further in this mud--turn about." + +Which the two did, suddenly. Both stepped aside out of Faith's way, in +surprise--her light footfall had not made them lower their voices. But +in that moment they could see that she was a lady; in acknowledgment of +which fact the one gentleman bowed slightly, and the other lifted his +hat. Faith had thrown back her veil to hear better what they were +saying, not expecting so sudden an encounter; and as she passed, secure +in being a stranger, gave them both a view of as soft a pair of eyes as +they had either of them ever looked into, which also sought theirs with +a curious intentness, borne out by the high bright tinge which +excitement had brought into her cheeks. Both of them saw and +remembered, for swift as it was, the look was not one to forget. But +the glance added little to what Faith knew already about the strangers, +and she went on her way feeling as if a stricture had been bound tight +round her heart. + +The words about Mr. Linden's fastidiousness she knew quite enough of +him to verify; and in the light of these people's talk it almost seemed +to Faith as if there had been some glamour about her--as if she should +some day prove to be "magician's coin" after all. But though the old +sense of unworthiness swept over her, Faith was not of a temper to +dwell long or heavily upon such a doubt. Her heart had been strangely +stirred besides by what was said of his mother, and his old way of +life, and his changes. She knew about them of course before; yet as a +trifle, the touching of a single ray, will often give a new view of an +old scene,--those side words of strangers set all Mr. Linden's time of +joy and sorrow with such vivid reality before her, that her heart was +like to break with it. That effect too, more or less, passed away from +her mind,--never entirely. Another thing staid. + +"What he works so hard for now"--Then he was working hard! and doing +his own studies and correcting her French exercises, and giving her +lessons all the while, as well as to other people; and bringing her +gifts with the fruit of his work! And not an atom of it all could Faith +touch to change. She pondered it, and she knew it. She doubted whether +she could with any good effect venture so much as a remonstrance; and +the more Faith thought, the more this doubt resolved itself into +certainty. And all the while, he was working hard! Round that fact her +thoughts beat, like an alarmed bird round its nest; about as helplessly. + +Mrs. Derrick thought Faith was more grave and abstracted than usual +that day, and sometimes thought so afterwards; that was all Faith made +known. + +Dr. Harrison thought the same thing on the next occasion of his seeing +her, and on the next; or rather he thought she held off from him more +than usual; what the root of it might be he was uncertain. And +circumstances were unfavourable to the exactness of his observations +for some time thereafter. + +It was yet early in March, when Mrs. Stoutenburgh took a very +troublesome and tedious fever, which lasted several weeks. It was +reckoned dangerous, part of the time, and Mrs. Derrick and Faith were +in very constant attendance. Faith especially, for Mrs. Stoutenburgh +liked no one else so well about her; and gratitude and regard made her +eager to do all she might. So daily and nightly she was at Mrs. +Stoutenburgh's bedside, ministering to her in all the gentle offices of +a nurse, and in that line besides where Mr. Linden had declared Dr. +Harrison but half knew his profession. And there, and about this work, +Dr. Harrison met her. + +Their meetings were of necessity very often; but no lectures, nor +discussions, nor much conversation, were now possible. Faith felt she +had a vantage ground, and used it The doctor felt he had lost ground, +or at the least was not gaining; and against some felt but unrecognized +obstacle in his way his curiosity and passion chafed. He could see +Faith nowhere else now; she contrived not to meet him at home. She was +out with Reuben--or resting--or unavoidably busy, when he came there. +And Dr. Harrison knew the resting times were needed, and could only +fume against the business--in which he sometimes had some reason. + +One day he found her at her post in the sick room, when Mrs. +Stoutenburgh had fallen asleep. It was towards the end of the +afternoon. An open Bible lay on the bed's side; and Faith sat there +resting her head on her hand. She was thinking how hard Mr. Linden was +working, and herself looking somewhat as if she were following his +example. + +"What are you doing?" said the doctor softly. + +"I have been reading to Mrs. Stoutenburgh." + +"Feverish--" whispered the doctor. + +"No;--she has gone to sleep." + +"Tired her!--" + +"No," said Faith with a smile, "it's resting. The Bible never tired any +one yet, that loved it--I think." + +"Well people--" said the doctor. + +"Sick people! You're mistaken, Dr. Harrison. Sick people most of all." + +"Do you know that you will be sick next," said he gravely, "if you do +not take more care?" + +A fair little smile denied any fear or care on that subject, but did +not satisfy the doctor. + +"I do not approve of what you are doing," said he seriously. + +"Reading this?" + +"Even the same." + +"But you are mistaken, Dr. Harrison," she said gently. "There is +nothing so soothing, to those that love it. I wish you loved it! Don't +you remember you confessed to me once that somebody had told you you +had but half learned your profession?" + +Faith trembled, for she had said those last words wittingly. She could +not have spoken them, if the light in the room had not been such as to +hide her change of colour; and even then she dared not speak the name +she alluded to. But she had said it half as a matter of conscience. + +It drew forth no answer from the doctor, for Mrs. Stoutenburgh just +then stirred and awoke. And Faith little guessed the train she had +touched. There were no indications of manner; and she could not, as Dr. +Harrison went leisurely down the stairs, see the tremendous bound his +mind made with the question,-- + +"Is it _that book_ that stands in my way?--or HE!" + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + + +Mrs. Stoutenburgh got well. And it was in Faith's mind then, by some +means to see very little more of Dr. Harrison till Mr. Linden should be +in Pattaquasset again. So much for human intentions. Faith fell sick +herself; and instead of being kept at a distance Dr. Harrison saw her +twice at least in the twenty-four hours. + +It was a doubtful privilege to see those soft eyes lustrous with fever +and a steady glow take place of the changing and flitting hues which +were as much a part of Faith's language, at times, as the movements of +a horse's ears are part of his. But as after a few days it became +evident that there was nothing dangerous about Faith's attack, it is +probable that the doctor rather enjoyed his position than otherwise. +The freedom and authority of his office were a pleasant advance upon +the formalities of ordinary intercourse; and to see Faith and speak to +her and touch her hand without any ceremonial but that of friendship, +was an advantage great enough to desire the prolonging thereof. Faith +was a gentle patient; and Dr. Harrison's care was unbounded; though it +was not alarming, even to Mrs. Derrick, as he assured her there was no +cause. + +For a week however Faith kept her bed, and even Dr. Harrison was glad +when at the end of a week she was able to be up again. Especially +perhaps as it was only in her wrapper and an easy chair; his office was +not at an end; the fever, in a remittent or intermittent form, still +hung about her and forbade her doing anything but taking care of +herself. + +Not precisely in this category of duty were the letters Faith had +written all that week. She had written them, how was best known by an +aching head and burning fingers and feverish vision. But an +interruption of them would have drawn on Mr. Linden's knowing the +reason; and then Faith knew that no considerations would keep him from +coming to her. It was towards the end of the study term; he was working +hard already; she could not endure that any further bar should be +placed in his way. None should for her. And so, bit by bit when she +could do but a bit at a time, the letters were written. Exercises had +to be excused. And Faith was at heart very thankful when at the end of +a sick week, she was able to get up and be dressed and sit in the +easy-chair and see the diamonds sparkling against her brown wrapper +again. + +It was April now, and a soft springy day. A fire burned gently in the +chimney, while a window open at a little distance let in Spring's +whispers and fragrances; and the plain old-fashioned room looked cosy +and pretty, as some rooms will look under undefinable influences. +Nothing could be plainer. There was not even the quaint elegance of Mr. +Linden's room; this one was wainscotted with light blue and +whitewashed, and furnished with the simplest of chintz furniture. But +its simplicity and purity were all in tone with the Spring air and the +cheer of the wood fire; and not at all a bad setting for the figure +that sat there in the great chintz chair before the fire; her soft hair +in bright order, the quiet brown folds of the wrapper enveloping her, +and the flash of the diamonds giving curious point and effect to the +whole picture. Faith was alone and looking very happy. + +It wanted but a few weeks now of Mr. Linden's coming home,--coming home +for a longer rest and sight of her; and Faith had not seen him since +January. Mrs. Stoutenburgh's illness and Faith's consequent fatigue had +in part accounted to him for the short letters and missing French +exercises, but she could see that such excuse would not long be made +for her,--his last one or two letters had been more anxious, more +special in their inquiries: how glad she was that he need have no +further cause for either. Partly musing on all this, partly on what she +had been reading, Faith sat that afternoon, when the well-known single +soft knock at her door announced Reuben Taylor. He came in with a glad +face--how sad it had lately been Faith had seen, sick as she was,--and +with both hands full of pleasant things. One hand was literally full, +of cowslips; and as he came up and gave her his other hand, it seemed +to Faith as if a great spot of Spring gold was before her eyes. + +"Dear Miss Faith," Reuben said, "I wonder if anybody can ever be +thankful enough, to see you better! You feel stronger than yesterday, +don't you, ma'am?" + +"_I_ can't be thankful enough, Reuben--I feel that to-day. How good you +are to bring me those cowslips! O yes,--I am stronger than I was +yesterday." + +That Faith was not very strong was sufficiently shewn by the way her +hands lay in her lap and on the arm of the chair, and by the lines of +her pale quiet face. _Bodily_ strength was not flourishing there. +Reuben looked at her wistfully, with a half-choked sigh, then knelt +down beside her chair, as he often did. + +"I didn't bring them all, Miss Faith--I mean, I didn't _pick_ them all. +Charlie and Robbie saw me in the meadow, and nothing would do but they +must help. I don't think they always knew which to pick--but I thought +you wouldn't mind that," he said as he laid the cowslips on the table, +their fair yellow faces shewing very fair in the sick room. Faith's +face was bright before, but it brightened still. + +"They look lovely to me--tell Charlie and Rob I will thank them when I +can. I don't thank _you_, Reuben,"--she said turning from the flowers +to him. + +"No, ma'am, I should hope not," he said, answering her smile +gratefully. "But that's not all, Miss Faith--for Ency Stephens sent you +one of her rosebuds,"--and Reuben took a little parcel carefully from +his pocket. "It's only wrapped up in brown paper, because I hadn't time +to go home for white. And she told me to tell you, Miss Faith," he +added, both eyes and cheek flushing--"that she prays every day for you +to get well and for Mr. Linden to come home." + +The smile died on Faith's face and her eyes fell. "He ought to have +this," she said presently, with a little flush on her own cheek. "I +don't feel as if it should come to me. Reuben, does she want anything?" +It was very rare, even now, for Faith to speak directly to Reuben of +Mr. Linden, though she was ready enough to hear Reuben speak of him. + +"No, ma'am, I think not," he said in answer to net question. "You +know--did you ever hear, Miss Faith?--that when Mr. Linden first went +there she was kept in the house the whole time,--nobody knew how to +take her out--or took the trouble; and Mr. Linden carried her half a +mile down the lane that very first day. And you can guess how he talked +to her, Miss Faith,--they said she looked like another child when she +came back. But is there anything I can do for you, ma'am, before I go +to the post-office?--it's almost time." + +"If you'll fill that glass with water for me, Reuben--that I mayn't let +my sweet cowslips fade--that's all. They'll do me good all to-morrow." + +Reuben went off, his place presently supplied by Mrs. Stoutenburgh; who +against all persuasion had insisted upon coming down to see Faith. And +then Faith was left to the calm companionship of her cowslips till +Reuben came back from the post-office. + +He came up to Faith's chair, and taking out the letter broke the outer +seal, (a ceremony he generally performed in her presence) and was just +removing the envelope when the doctor came in for his evening visit. +The doctor saw a tableau,--Faith, the cowslips, and Reuben,--Mrs. +Derrick by the window he hardly saw, nor what the others were about. +But that he had interrupted _something_ was clear--the very atmosphere +of the room was startled; and though Reuben's position hid both letter +and hands, it was certain the hands were busy. What was in them, and +what became of it, the doctor could not tell. Before he was fairly in +the room the letter had retreated to Reuben's pocket, and Reuben +stepped back and stood behind Faith's chair. + +The doctor laid a hand on his shoulder with a "How do you do" as he +passed; and accosted Faith with all the free kindliness which his +office of physician permitted him to add to the friend. The doctor took +all his advantage; he did not take more; and not Faith herself could +see that there was any warmer feeling behind his pleasant and pleased +eye and smile. But it is true Faith was a simpleton. She did not see +that his pleasantness covered keen scrutiny. The scrutiny found nothing. + +"How do you do?" he said. + +"I don't suppose I need say a word to tell you," Faith answered +smiling. "I am well enough to enjoy cowslips." + +The doctor's eye fell slightingly upon them, which was not wonderful. + +"I think you must be very well!" he said with some trifle of addenda +from lip and eye. "You see you are mistaken. I shouldn't have known how +well, except from your words." + +"_You_ are mistaken now, Dr. Harrison," said Faith in the slow quiet +way in which she spoke to-day. "You think these are not splendid--but +they are bits of spring!" + +"They are not Spring's best bits, I hope," said the doctor. + +"What do you think of that?" + +The doctor took the rosebud and looked at it. + +"If I were to tell you what I think of it," he said with a sort of +grave candour, "you would dismiss me, and I should come here no more!" + +"Reuben brought me that, Dr. Harrison, from the little lame girl you +sent the rosebush to, in the winter. I wish you knew how much good that +rosebush has done!" + +"I sometimes wish," said the doctor, "that I had been born in a +cottage!" + +"Why, in the world?" + +"It would be so pleasant to have people come and bring me rosebushes!" + +"Or cowslips?" said Faith. "Then you would have a taste for cowslips." + +"But then the people might get sick," said the doctor, waiving the +"bits of spring;"--"so I am content. How are you to-day?" He took +Faith's hand and felt it, and looked at her. The result did not seem to +be unsatisfactory on the whole. + +"You mustn't read too much in that book," said he, glancing over at it. + +"Why not?" + +"You must keep quiet." + +"For how long?" + +"It depends. There is a little enemy of fever hanging about your +skirts, that I will oppose with something else; but all you can oppose +to him is quietness." + +Faith thought of the words--"The rock of my defence and my +refuse"--what quietness was like that of their giving; but she said +nothing to the doctor. + +Dr. Harrison gave Mrs. Derrick her directions on various points; then +taking his old-fashioned stand on the rug, surveyed the easy-chair and +its occupant and Reuben still behind it. + +"By the way, Mrs. Derrick," said he carelessly,--"I have heard a pretty +story of your friend Mr. Linden." He noticed, but only that Faith had +glanced at him and was to all appearance quietly looking down at her +cowslips. + +"I dare say, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick placidly. "I've heard a great +many." + +"Have you heard it?" + +"Heard what?" said Mrs. Derrick. "It's an old pretty story that +everybody loves him." + +"I heard this only the other day," said the doctor. "It's not of that +kind. But stories will be stories--and people will tell them." + +How the colour flushed and paled in Reuben's cheek!--he stood resting +his hands lightly on the back of Faith's chair, looking down. The +colour on Faith's cheek did not change. + +"Who told this?" said Mrs. Derrick. + +"People that have known the family. They say, he has managed to run +through a very large property, and that he leaves his sister now to +live upon charity." + +It was impossible to tell from the doctor's manner whether he put any +faith in his story himself. It was as much like delivering a report as +bringing a charge. It might have been either! He saw Reuben's colour +become fixed and very high, but though the doctor could almost have +sworn that there was a rush of hid tears under the boy's drooping +eyelids, yet the lines about the mouth took the curl of an +irrepressible smile. Mrs. Derrick picked up two stitches, made a +third--then answered. + +"So that's what _you_ call a pretty story! It was hardly worth +remembering to tell us, doctor,--you and I, and Reuben, and Faith, know +better." Now could not the doctor tell for the life of him, whether the +words were simply innocent, or--simply malicious! Mrs. Derrick was so +imperturbable there, at her knitting! Neither did the doctor much care. +It sounded to him just like Mrs. Derrick. He looked at Faith; and +remarked lightly that "he didn't know anything!" + +Faith was very quiet; he could not see that her colour had risen more +than a little, and a little was not enough to judge by in her face. But +in an instant more after he had spoken, she looked full and gravely up +at him. + +"Do you believe everything about everybody, Dr. Harrison?" + +"On the contrary! I don't believe anything of anybody--Except you," he +added with a little smile. + +"Do you believe such a story?" + +Her steady soft eyes, which did not move from him, gave him an +uncomfortable feeling--perhaps of undefined remembrance. "I don't +believe it," he said returning her gaze. "I don't do anything with it. +Such things are said of everybody--and of almost everybody they are +true. I take them as they come. But about this particular case," he +said with one of his gentle looks, "I will do just what you say I must +do." + +Faith smiled. + +"I don't say you must do anything. I am sorry for you, Dr. Harrison." + +"I am glad you are sorry!" he said sitting down by her. "And there is +reason enough; but what is this one?" + +"You lose a great pleasure." + +"What one?"-- + +"You don't know how to trust." + +"Do I not?" said the doctor, looking at the rosebud still in his hand. +"Well--you shall teach me!" And springing up he bowed to Mrs. Derrick +and went off--rosebud and all. + +Reuben stood still for about half a minute--then came round, and +silently gave Faith her letter. + +"Reuben Taylor!"--said Faith, as he was going after the doctor. "You +have been standing so long--suppose you sit down for a minute?" + +Whatever Reuben thought of the request, he said nothing, but obeyed +her, bringing a foot cushion to her chair and bestowing himself upon +it. Faith smiled at him as she spoke again, though there was an +unwonted fire in her owe eyes; and the blood came fast now to her face. + +"Reuben, I wanted to ask you what all that colour is in your cheeks +for?" + +Reuben hesitated--there seemed a stricture across his breast which made +speaking hard work; but at last he said frankly, though in none of the +clearest tones, + +"Because I'm angry, Miss Faith--and hurt too." + +Faith's next words fell like pearls-- + +"It isn't worth the while." + +"No, Miss Faith," he answered without looking up. + +"It's too much honour to something that doesn't deserve +it,--and--Reuben--it's too little to something that does." + +"O no, ma'am! it's not _that!_" Reuben said, raising his eyes to her +face with the old earnest look. "But Miss Faith, there are some things +he can't bear to hear said--and said _so_," he added a little lower, +and looking down again. "And then--he's Dr. Harrison, and I'm only a +poor boy and mayn't answer him--and that fretted me; and it isn't the +first time, neither," Reuben said, as if he were making a clean breast +of it. "Oh Miss Faith! I'd rather have had him knock me down, than +speak such words!" Tears were getting the upper hand in the boy's voice. + +"Dear Reuben," said Faith, very quietly, though her cheeks were two +carnations,--"what I am most sorry for is Dr. Harrison." + +Reuben drew a long breath, with his "Yes, ma'am--I'm sorry for him too, +very often--when he talks about other things. But I don't believe even +you know just--just how false that was." Reuben spoke as if the words +choked him. "It's maybe never come in your way to know all he did here +for everybody, and--for me." + +There was a quick pulsation at that instant from Faith's heart to the +hand that held her letter,--but she only said, "Tell me!" + +"I couldn't begin to tell you all, ma'am," Reuben said, a smile coming +over his face now,--"nobody could but himself--and _he_ wouldn't +remember. I couldn't even tell you all he's done for me; but one +thing"--Reuben's eyes and voice fell and he spoke very low. "You know, +Miss Faith, the rate of schooling here is fixed by the trustees. And +the first day I came father told me to say he didn't know that he could +find the money for more than one quarter, but he had so much all ready, +and he wanted me to have so much. I thought it would be hard to ask, +but it was so easy--of him," Reuben said with that same smile. "Mr. +Linden didn't say much about it--only yes--but then he spoke to father +(that very day we were at the shore Miss Faith) and told him I should +come all the time--for the pleasure of teaching me." (Reuben thought +the compliment went all to Mr. Linden, or he would not have told it.) +"But father wouldn't do that,--he said Mr. Linden should have the money +as fast as he could get it; and if he didn't take it I shouldn't come. +And it was paid all the year, regularly. But then, Miss Faith----" +there was a pause. + +"What, Reuben?" she whispered. + +"Then instead of keeping it for himself, he put it all in the bank for +me.--And I never knew it till I opened the letter he gave me when he +was going away." + +The brightness of the hidden diamonds danced in Faith's face for a +minute--half hidden too, but it was there. + +"Reuben," she whispered, as he was starting up to go,--"what we have to +do is to pray for Dr. Harrison." + +"Miss Faith, how do people live who do not pray?" + +"I don't know!" + +But Faith's voice did not speak the thanksgiving which bounded in her +heart to Reuben's words. She sat back in her chair looking tired, with +her letter clasped fast in her hand. Reuben stepped forward and +arranged the fire softly--then giving her another wistful look he bowed +and went lightly out of the room. With gentle step Mrs. Derrick came up +to Faith, to kiss her and ask how she felt. Faith's eyelids unclosed. + +"Very happy, mother,--and tired too. Don't you think I could have a +light presently?" + +"This minute, pretty child. But lie down on the couch, Faith, and I'll +bring up the little table." + +That was done, and then Faith read her letter, with first a rapid and +then a slow enjoyment of it, making every word and sentence do more +than double duty, and bring the very writer near. And then she lay with +it clasped upon her bosom, thinking those flowing trains of half +feverish thought which are so full of images, but which in her case +flowed with a clear stream over smooth channels, nor ever met a rough +break or jar. Even Dr. Harrison did not make an exception, for Faith's +thought of him was constantly softened by her prayer for him. Her +mother drew near when the letter was at last folded up, and watched her +from the other side of the stand; but though mind and heart too were +full enough, she rightly judged that Faith needed no more excitement; +and so never mentioned Dr. Harrison's name, nor even asked how he came +to carry off the rosebud. + +Faith's trains of thought ended at last in a sleep which lasted till +past her tea-time. Mrs. Derrick was still by her side when she awoke, +and Faith opening her eyes as quietly as she had shut them, remarked, + +"Mother!--letters are great things." + +"Why child," said her mother smiling, "what have you been dreaming +about?" + +"Nothing.--That isn't a dream; it's a reality." + +Blessing in her heart the sender of the reality which gave such +pleasure, Mrs. Derrick answered, "Yes, child, it's real--and so's he." + +Faith said nothing to that except by her smile. She only spoke the hope +that she might be stronger the next day; a sentiment which though at +first sight it might seem to have nothing to do with the former +subject, was really in very close connexion with it. + +But Faith was not stronger the next day. The fever was not driven away +and strength was in the grip of it yet. The doctor gave her no new +directions, but insisted very much on quietness and care. There was +nothing to be apprehended of the fever but tediousness, and the further +and prolonged loss of strength; but that was quite enough to have to +avoid. For that she must take all sorts of care. He also said that the +case might go on without his oversight for a day or two, and that for +that space of time in the middle of the week he should be absent from +Pattaquasset, having a very urgent call of business elsewhere. + +And whether for that reason or needing no fresh one, the doctor having +stated so much went on to tell about other things, and made a long +visit. The talk came upon the Bible again, Faith didn't know how, and +grew very animated. Dr. Harrison had brought with him this morning one +of his pleasantest moods, or manners; he thought yesterday that Faith's +eyes had given him a reproof for slander, and he had no intent to +offend in the like way again. He was grave, gentle, candid, +seemingly--willing to listen, but that he always was to Faith; and +talked sense or feeling in a most sensible and simple way. Yet the +conversation ended with giving Faith great pain. He had asked her to +read something confirmatory or illustrative of the statement she was +making, out of the Bible; and Faith had complied with his wish. That +was nothing strange. She had often done it. To-day the reading had been +followed by a little observation, acutely put, which Faith felt raised +a barrier between him and the truth she had been pressing. She felt it, +and yet she could not answer him. She knew it was false; she could see +that his objection was foundationless--stood on air; but she did not +see the path by which she might bring the doctor up to her +standing-point where he might see it too. It was as if she were at the +top of a mountain and he at the bottom; her eye commanded a full wide +view of the whole country, while his could see but a most imperfect +portion. But to bring him up to her, Faith knew not. It is hard, when +feet are unwilling to climb! And unskilled in the subtleties of +controversy, most innocent of the duplicities of unbelief, Faith saw +her neighbour entangled, as it seemed, in a mesh of his own weaving and +had not power to untie the knot. It distressed her. Other knots of +skepticism or ignorance that he had presented to her she had cut easily +with the sword of truth if she could not untie; he had offered her one +to-day that she could cut indeed as easily for herself,--but not for +him. To do that called for not better wits, but for far greater +controversial acumen and logical practice than Faith knew. He did not +press his point, not even for victory; he gave the objection to her and +left it there; but while to her it was mere rottenness of reasoning, +she knew that for him it stood. It grieved her deeply; and Mrs. Derrick +saw her worn and feverish all the day, without knowing what special +reason there had been. She tried to stop Faith's working; but though +not fit for it, Faith would not be stopped. She dared not trust Mr. +Linden with any more excuses or put-offs; and a feverish cheek and hand +that day and the next went over her exercise and letter. And enjoyed +both, in spite of fever. But when they were done, late in the next day, +Faith lay down wearily on the couch and consoled herself with the +thoughts of the letter to come; it was the evening for one. + +It was the evening for one and yet one came not. Other letters +came--the great leather bag was tossed out on the station-house steps, +and thence borne off to the post-office, where five minutes later +Reuben Taylor came to wait for his share of the contents. But when with +the assurance which has never yet known disappointment, Reuben applied +at the window, Mintie gave him a rather coquettish-- + +"No, Mr. Taylor--you're not in luck to-day,--there's nothing for you." + +In his surprise Reuben tried every means to make himself and her +believe that she was mistaken; and urged a new examination of all the +letters, till Mintie made--or feigned to make--it, with the same +success. + +Reuben turned away from the office in real sorrow of heart. He had not +now to learn what store was set by those letters--especially now, when +Faith was sick,--he had noticed her holding of that very last one which +had come. And then, not merely to lose the pleasure, but to have the +disappointment!--Then too, what had hindered the letter? One sometimes +came out of time, but the expected one had never yet failed. Was Mr. +Linden sick?--and what would Miss Faith think?--the letter might fail +from other causes (hardly, Reuben thought) but what would _she_ +think?--herself so far from well. And then, should he go at once and +tell her--or let her find it out from his non-appearance? + +That last idea was promptly rejected,--she should at least not be in +suspense, and Reuben was soon at her door, as soon admitted. But he +came in very quietly, without that spring of step which had so often +brought a letter, and standing by her chair said gently,-- + +"Miss Faith, I didn't find anything to-night--but I thought I'd come +and tell you, for fear you'd be expecting." + +"Not find anything!"--said Faith raising herself half up, with the +start of colour into her pale cheeks. + +"No, ma'am,--they said at the office there was nothing. Maybe it will +come to-morrow." + +It hurt him to see the little patient droop of each feature as Faith +laid herself down again. + +"Thank you, Reuben," she said. "O yes, maybe it will." + +Words of consolation Reuben did not presume to offer, but there was a +great deal in his face and quiet low-spoken "Can I do anything +to-night, Miss Faith?" + +"No," she said cheerfully. "There's nothing. Isn't it time Mr. and Mrs. +Roscom had some fresh eggs, Reuben? Mother will give you them." + +Reuben only said he would stop there and see them. + +The letter did not come next day. Reuben came, as usual, in the +afternoon, but only to tell his bad success. He had not the heart to +bring cowslips again, and ventured no words to Faith but about some of +her poor people. That subject Faith went into fully. After Reuben was +gone she lay quiet a while; and took her indemnification in the evening +by getting Mrs. Derrick to read to her one or two of those strings of +passages which Faith called ladders. Whether she could mount by them or +not just then, her mother might; and hearing them Faith went to sleep. +She said nothing about her letters, except to tell Mrs. Derrick they +had not come. + +That day and the next were quiet days, being the days of Dr. Harrison's +absence. And if some accident had befallen Wednesday's letter, there +was good hope of one Friday. And as Friday wore away, Faith did not +know that she was counting the hours, and yet could at any time have +answered any question as to the time of day. It was one of those calm +days, within doors and without, which ebb away so noiselessly, that +only the clock tells their progress. Faith's little clock--(Mr. Linden +had amused himself with sending her one about as big as a good-sized +watch on a stand)--ticked musically on the table, suggesting a good +many things. Not merely the flight of time--not merely that the train +would soon be in, not merely that she might soon have a letter; nor +even that it, the clock, had seen Mr. Linden since she had. All these +thoughts mingled, but with them something else. They would tick on, +those minutes, relentlessly, no matter what they were to bring or take +away,--steady, unalterable, unchecked,--like the old idea of Fate. She +tried to be steady too--tried to have that fixedness of heart which +says confidently, "I will sing and give praise." But she was weak yet, +with the effect and even the presence of fever, and through all her +thoughts she seemed to feel those minutes tracking with light steps +across her breast. She lay with her hands clasped there, to still them. + +The sun began to slant his beams in at the window, and then with one +long screeching "Whew!"--the afternoon train flew through Pattaquasset, +tossing out the letter bag on its way. Then Faith waited--watching +intently for Reuben's step on the stairs. + +Reuben on his part had watched the letter-bag from the moment it was +thrown out, had followed it to the office, and there posted himself +near the window to have the first chance. But his prize was a blank. + +Sick at heart, Reuben drew back a little, giving way before Mintie's +rather sharp "I tell you no, Mr. Taylor," and other people's earnest +pressing forward to the window. But when the last one had gone--those +happy people, who had got their letters!--Reuben again presented +himself, and braved Mintie's displeasure by further inquiries; which +produced nothing but an increase of the displeasure. He turned and +walked slowly away. It might have been any weather--he might have met +anybody or heard anything; but when Reuben reached Mrs. Derrick's the +whole walk was a blank to him. What was the matter--how would Miss +Faith bear it--these two questions lay on his heart. In vain he tried +to lay them down,--for the very words which told him that "the Lord +doth not afflict willingly," said also that he doth afflict; and +Reuben's heart sank. He stood for a moment in the porch, realizing "how +people live who do pray"--then went in and straight upstairs, walked up +to Faith's couch when admitted, and without giving himself much time to +think, told his news. + +"Dear Miss Faith, you must wait a little longer yet. May I write by +to-night's mail and ask why the letter hasn't come?--it may have been +lost." + +Faith started up, with first a flush and then a great sinking of +colour, and steadying herself with one hand on the back of the couch +looked into her messenger's face as if there she could track the +missing letter or discern the cause that kept it from her. But Reuben's +face discovered nothing but his sorrow and sympathy; and Faith sank +back on her pillow again with a face robbed of colour beyond all the +power of fever's wasting to do. + +"Yes--write!" she said. + +Reuben stood still, his hands lightly clasped, his heart full of +thoughts he had perhaps no right to utter, if he could have found words. + +"I wish you'd write, Reuben," she repeated after a moment. + +"Yes, ma'am," he said, "I will. Only--dear Miss Faith! you know 'the +darkness and the light are both alike to Him.'" Reuben was gone. + +Faith lay for a few minutes as he had left her, and then slipped off +the couch and kneeled beside it; for she felt as if the burden of the +time could be borne only so. She laid her head and heart down together, +and for a long time was very still; "setting her foot on the lowest +step" of some of those ladders, if she could not mount by them. A +foot-hold is something. + +She was there yet, she had not stirred, when another foot-step in the +passage and other fingers at the door made her know the approach of Dr. +Harrison. Faith started up and met him standing. The doctor looked at +her as he came up. So pale, so very quiet, so purely gentle, and yet +with such soft strength in her eye,--he had not seen her look just so, +nor anybody else, before. + +"How do you do?" he said reverentially as he took her hand. + +"I am--well,"--said Faith. + +"Are you?" said the doctor gravely, eyeing the mark of unconquered +fever and its wasting effects even on her then.--"I am very glad to +hear it, indeed!" + +"I mean, that I feel--well," said Faith correcting herself. + +"You will feel better if you will take a more resting position," said +the doctor putting her into the chair. And then he stood and looked at +her; and Faith looked at her little clock, with her foot on that step +of her "ladder."--"He knoweth thy walking through this great +wilderness." + +"What have you been doing to yourself these two days?" said the doctor. + +"Nothing--" she said;--"more than usual." + +He laid her appearance all to the account of the fever, she was so +quiet; and proceeded to a new examination of the state of her hand, and +to give her various professional orders. + +"Miss Faith, can you do anything in the way of eating?" + +Her very face as well as her tongue seemed to answer him, "Not much." + +"Do you think of anything you could fancy?" + +"No."-- + +"I brought some birds home with me that I believe I can answer for. Try +to demolish the pinion of one of them--will you? It is a duty you owe +to society." + +"I will try,"--she said gravely. + +The doctor wondered whether she had laid up against him any of his +former conversation. + +"What do you think," he said with a kind of gentle insinuation,--"of +that argument I ventured to advance the other day, on the matter we +were speaking of?" + +"I don't like to think of it at all, Dr. Harrison." + +"May I know why not?" + +"Because I know it is false, and yet I cannot make you see it." + +"Can you make yourself see it?" + +"I don't need to take any pains for that. I see it very well." + +"Perhaps you will find the way to make me see it," said the doctor +pleasantly. + +"That would be easy," said Faith, "if--" + +"If what? May I not know the difficulty?" + +"If you really cared about it." + +"I do care about it. You mistake me when you think that. But you must +not think about anything now. Did you know I carried off your rosebud +the other night?" + +"Yes." + +It was impossible to tell from the doctor's accent how _he_ viewed the +transaction, and equally impossible from Faith's answer to tell what +she thought of it. Extremes meet--as Mr. Linden had once remarked. + +"I'll endeavour to atone for that presumption to-morrow," said he +rising, for Mrs. Derrick now entered the room. To her Dr. Harrison +repeated his orders and counsels, and to Faith's relief took himself +away. Her mother came up to the easy-chair with a smothered sigh on her +lips, and laid her gentle hand on Faith's forehead and wrist. + +"Child," she said, "has that man talked you into a fever again? I've a +great mind not to let him come any more--I guess I could cure you +better myself. If you'd send word to somebody else, Faith, we'd have +you well in no time." + +"I haven't heard from him to-night, mother." Faith felt the little +start of her mother's hand. + +"Maybe he's coming then," said Mrs. Derrick,--"he might have meant to +come yesterday and been hindered." Faith did not think that. + +"We shall know," she said to her mother. "We have only to wait and be +quiet." And she carried out both parts of her stated duty to perfection. + +There is a strange sort of strength in a certain degree of weakness--or +it may be that weakness runs sooner to its refuge, while strength +stands outside to do battle with the evil felt or feared. Faith's +gentle and firm temper was never apt for struggling, with either pain +or fear; it would stand, or yield, as the case called for; and now, +whether that her mind had been living in such a peaceful and loving +atmosphere, both earthly and heavenly, that it could settle upon none +but peaceful views of things, or that bodily weakness made her unable +to bear any other, she did mount upon one of those "ladders" and left +her burden on the ground. She thought she did. She was as quiet +outwardly as before; she told Mrs. Derrick, who looked at her in +misery,--and told her with a steady cheerful little smile, that "she +dared say the letter would come to-morrow." But it is true that Faith +had no power to eat that night nor the next day; and that she did not +know the hidden slow fever--not of disease--which was running through +all her veins and making the other fever do its work again, bright in +her cheek and eye and beating at her temples and wrist. But she was as +still and quiet through it all--quiet in voice and brow--as if letters +had been full and plenty. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + + +It was about midday of Saturday, when Reuben Taylor, proceeding up the +main street of Pattaquasset on some business errand for his father, was +joined by Phil Davids--no wonted or favourite associate or companion. +But Phil now walked up the street alongside of the basket which had +come "into town" with fish. + +"I say, Reuben," said Phil after some unimportant remarks had been made +and answered,--"does Mr. Linden ever write to you?" + +Reuben started--as if that touched some under current of his thoughts, +and answered "yes." + +"I wish he'd write to me," said Phil. "I know I'd like it. I say, +Taylor, what does he send you such thick letters about?" + +"Such thick letters!" Reuben repeated, with a quick look at his +companion. "People put a great many things in a letter, Phil." + +"I guess likely. That's what I say. What does he write to you about?" + +"Maybe I'll bring up one of 'em for you to read," said Reuben. "You've +heard him talk, Phil--he writes just so." + +"Does he? I guess you wouldn't like to miss one of his letters then, +Reuben,--would you?" + +"No." + +"I s'pose it would be a worse job yet to miss two of 'em--wouldn't it?" +said Phil with a perfectly grave face. + +"Phil Davids!" Reuben exclaimed, facing round upon him, with such a +flash of joy and hope and surprise and eagerness, as made Phil wonder. +"What do you mean?" he added checking himself. "Just turn your pockets +inside out, Phil, before we go any further." + +"When were you at the post-office?" + +"Last night--and this morning." Reuben forced himself to be quiet. + +"Well look here,--when you go there, don't you ask for letters?" + +"Ask!--I've asked till they were all out of patience." + +"Suppose you come to the right shop next time!" said Phil, importantly +producing the missing papers. + +"Phil! Phil!--" was all Reuben said. He caught the letters--and stood +looking at them with a face that made Phil look. "Mr. Linden will love +you all his life for this. But how in the world did you get them?" + +"That's exactly what I'd like somebody to tell me!" said Phil. "I know +who put the monkey's paw in the fire--but how the chestnuts got there, +I'm beat!" + +"What do you know?" said Reuben,--"where did you get these? Oh Phil! I +never can thank you enough!" + +"It was because they were _his_ letters I did it," said Phil bluntly. +"I wasn't going to let Mintie Tuck have 'em. But I say, Reuben! what +have you done to spite her? or has she a spite against Mr. Linden? or +who has she a spite against?" + +"I don't know. Did _she_ give 'em to you, Phil?" + +"Not by a precious sight nor to anybody else. Dromy saw 'em in her +drawer, and for all the gumph he is, he knew the writing; and I made +him get 'em for me this morning while they were at breakfast. Now +Taylor," said Phil settling his hands further down in his pockets as +they rapidly walked along,--"what bird's on _that_ nest?" + +Reuben listened--with an intentness that spoke of more than wonder. "In +her _drawer?_" he repeated,--"what, down in the office?" + +"Not a bit of it! Stowed away with her earrings and ribbands upstairs +somewhere." + +"Phil," said Reuben when he had pondered this strange information in +silence for a minute, "will you be in the office when the mail comes in +for a night or two?--and don't tell this to any one till Mr. Linden +sends word what should be done." + +"You expect more letters?" said Phil, with a not stupid glance at his +fellow. + +"Yes," Reuben said, too frankly to increase suspicion; "and if one +should come it's very important that I should get it. And of course _I_ +can't watch." + +"_She_ sha'n't get it!" said Phil. "I'll be there. I'll be Sinbad's old +man of the mountain for Mintie. I won't sit on her shoulders, but I'll +sit on the counter; and if there's a scratch of Mr. Linden's in the +mail-bag, I'll engage I'll see it as fast as she will. I know his seal +too." + +"_Could_ she have done it to tease me?" Reuben said,--"I've never had +the least thing to do with her but through that post-office window." + +"What did you ever give her through the post-office window?" Phil asked +half laughingly. + +"Questions enough--" Reuben said, his thoughts too busy to notice any +underhand meaning,--"and lately she's given me rather cross answers. +That's all." + +"Well what do you suppose she stole your letters for?" + +"I don't know enough about her to guess," Reuben said frankly. + +"Well," said Phil, "_I_ guess Dr. Harrison won't appoint the postmaster +of Pattaquasset when I am President. I rather think he won't." + +"I wish you'd make haste and be President," Reuben said. "But if he +didn't know anything about Mrs. Tuck, Phil, other people did--and +thought she was honest at least. And you know _she_'s postmaster, by +right." + +"_She_--is the female of Dromy!" said Phil with intense expression. +"But Mintie aint a fool, and it's _she_'s post-master--anyhow Dromy +says it's she that's Dr. Harrison's friend;--so that makes it. But that +don't tell why she wants the letters." + +"Dr. Harrison's friend?" said Reuben,--"what does she have to do with +him?" + +"I aint a friend of either of 'em, so I don't know," said Phil. "But +girls with pretty faces will make friends with anybody!" + +A very high degree of masculine charity and correctness of judgment was +expressed in Phil's voice and words. Reuben made no reply--his charity, +of any sort, was not in a talkative mood, and the two parted kindly at +Phil's cross road. + +Not home to dinner now, for Reuben! The minutes of talk had seemed long +to his impatience; he had borne them, partly to get information, partly +to keep down suspicion. But now with Phil out of sight, he turned short +about and took the way to Mrs. Derrick's with almost flying steps. +True, he was not dressed for "Miss Faith's" room--but Reuben Taylor was +always neat and in order, and she must not wait. He hurried into Mrs. +Roscom's--there to leave his basket and every removable trace of his +work,--then on! + +Faith had spent the early morning upon her couch;--no need to ask if +she felt stronger than yesterday,--every line and feature shewed +prostration--and patience. Breakfast had been passed over nominally. +What Mrs. Derrick could do for her was done; what she could not, lay +heavy on the hearts of both as the one went down to make the days +arrangements, and the other lay still to endure. Reuben had not come +after the morning train--there was nothing even to expect till night, +and Faith lay listening to her little clock and watching the passage of +the April sunbeams through her room. + +Suddenly a loud startling rap at the front door. But she was powerless +to go and see, and after that one sound the house seemed to sink into +perfect stillness. Then the door of her room opened, and Mrs. Derrick +came in bearing a large basket. A heavy one too, but Mrs. Derrick would +have spent her last atom of strength before she would have let any one +else bring it up. Her face looked quite radiant. + +"Pretty child!" she said, "here's something for you!" + +It was needless to ask questions,--Mrs. Derrick's face could have but +one meaning. Faith neither asked nor answered, except by the sudden +start of the blood into cheeks which were pale enough before. Slipping +from the couch she was on her knees by the basket, pulling out the ends +of the knots by which it was tied, with just a tiny beautiful smile at +work on her changed lips. Her mother went softly away (she thought the +first sight of anything in _that_ line belonged to Faith alone) and the +April sunbeams took a new view of things. + +The knots gave way, and the basket cover swung round, and the white +wrapping paper came off; and within lay something for her truly!--most +appropriate! A great stem of bananas and another of plantains, thick +set with fruit, displayed their smooth green and red coats in very +excellent contrast, and below and around and doing duty as mere +packing, were sunny Havana oranges, of extra size, and of extra +flavour--to judge by the perfume. But better than all, to Faith's eye, +was a little slip of blackmarked white paper, tucked under a red +banana--it had only these words-- + + 'Sweets to the sweet.' + + +"Faith, I should put in more, but the basket refuses. It is the measure +of only one part of the proverb--do you understand?" + + +Faith knew oranges, she had never seen bananas or plantains before. It +was all one; for the time being they were not bananas or oranges but +hieroglyphics; and the one fruit looked as much like Mr. Linden's +handwriting as the other. She sat with her arm resting on the couch +supporting her head, and looking at them. Not the finest picture that +Goethe ever viewed, or bade his friends view as part of their "duty," +was so beautiful as that basket of red and yellow fruit to Faith's eye. +And all the more for that foreign look they were like Mr. Linden; for +the common things which they said, it was like him to say uncommonly. +How very sweet was the smell of those oranges! and how delicious the +soft feeling of peace which settled down on all Faith's senses. Very +different from the sort of quiet she was in a quarter of an hour ago. +She did not trouble herself now about the missing letters. This told +that Mr. Linden was well, or he could hardly have been out to buy fruit +and pack it and pack it off to her. So Mrs. Derrick found her--reading +not words, but oranges and bananas; with a face it was a pity Mr. +Linden could not see. + +It may be remarked in passing that the face was not lost upon the one +who did see it. Mrs. Derrick came and stooped down by Faith and her +basket in great admiration and joy and silence for a moment--the sight +almost put everything else out of her head; but then she exclaimed, +"Child, the doctor's coming!--I saw him driving up to the door." + +Faith put the cover on the basket, and while Mrs. Derrick set it out of +sight, she received the doctor as yesterday, standing. But with a nice +little colour in her cheeks to-day, in place of yesterday's sad want of +it. Dr. Harrison came up with one hand full of a most rare and elegant +bunch of hothouse flowers. + +"My amends-making--" he said as he presented it. + +It was not in Faith's nature not to look pleasure and admiration at +such bits of kindred nature. They were very exquisite, they were some +of them new to her, they were all most lovely, and Faith's eyes looked +love at them. Dr. Harrison was satisfied, for in those eyes there was +to-day no shadow at all. Their gravity he was accustomed to, and +thought he liked. + +"How do you do?" he said. + +"I am--a great deal better. O mother--may I have a glass of water for +these?" + +"You said yesterday you were well, Miss Faith." + +"You saw I wasn't," said Faith as she put her flowers in the glass. + +"That is very true. And I see also that your statement to-day is not of +much juster correctness. How came you to say that?" + +"I said, it without knowing--what I said," Faith answered simply. "What +is this, Dr. Harrison?" + +The doctor puzzled over her answer and could make nothing of it. + +"That is a Fuchsia--and that is another." + +"How beautiful!--how beautiful. They are not sweet?" + +"You cannot _always_ have sweetness in connexion with everything else," +he said with a slight emphasis. Faith's mind was too far away from the +subject to catch his innuendo; unless other lips had spoken it. + +"Mrs. Derrick," said the doctor, "I should like as a professional man, +to know what portion of the wing of a robin this lady can manage for +her breakfast?" + +"Some days more and some days less," said Mrs. Derrick. "She was not +very hungry this morning." (A mild statement of the case.) + +"Some days less than the wing of a robin!" said the doctor. "The robin +himself is a better feeder. Mrs. Derrick, what fancies does this bird +live upon?" + +The allusion drew a smile to Faith's face, which Mrs Derrick did not +understand. + +"She don't tell all her fancies,--she has _seemed_ to live on tea and +toast, for eatables." + +The doctor smiled, and went back to Faith who was busy with the +flowers; or as Mrs. Derrick said, seemed to be busy with them. + +"Are those better than cowslips?" he asked lightly. + +"They are more wonderfully beautiful--they are not better in their +place." + +"How is that?" + +"I told you cowslips were bits of spring," said Faith smiling. "These +are not that. I think everything in the world--I mean, the natural +world--has its place, that it fills." + +"Better than any other would?" + +"I suppose so. Yes." + +"That is admirable philosophy," said the doctor. "Excellent to keep one +contented. Three feet of snow is then as good as May zephyrs! Daisies +and dandelions are fair substitutes for geraniums and cacti! And these +barren granite fields, where the skeleton rock has hardly covered +itself skin deep with soil, are better than flowery prairies of rolling +land, and fertile wildernesses of roses!" + +"Well," said Faith; "you needn't laugh. I think they are." + +"By what transmutation of philosophy?" + +Faith's philosophy was put to the test by certain sounds which just +then came to her ear; the hall door opened and shut quick though +softly, and Reuben came lightly upstairs--two stairs at a time!--but +his knock at Faith's door was almost as quiet as usual. Whatever spirit +of energy was at work in him, however, calmed itself down at sight of +Dr. Harrison--whom he did not then stay to greet, but coming up with a +swift steady step to Faith's chair, knelt down there and gave her his +hand with, "Miss Faith, are you better to-day?" + +If a rosebud yesterday shut up in the cold had opened all its beams to +the sun,--that was Faith to-day, as she took Reuben's hand and held it. + +"That is a very devoted servant of yours, Miss Faith," said the doctor +pointedly. "I notice he gives you homage in true chivalric style. Does +the transmuting philosophy extend thus far also?" + +Faith turned the light of her face upon him as she answered, "I +shouldn't be worthy of one of those knights or of this, Dr. Harrison, +if I would change one for the other." + +Reuben had risen to his feet as the doctor spoke, and as he quitted +Faith's hand laid his own, with the slightest possible gesture, upon +the left breast of his coat; which did not mean (as it would with Sam +Stoutenburgh) that there was his heart--but that there were the +letters! Then stepping back with a bow acknowledging Dr. Harrison's +presence, Reuben went over to the window to speak to Mrs. Derrick. The +doctor had seen him before that morning from the window, as with some +ordered fish Reuben entered Judge Harrison's gate, and his dress was +the same now as then,--how the different offices could be so different +and so reconciled--or what _this_ office was, were matters of study. +But clearly Faith was as strong for her knight as her knight was for +her. + +"I didn't understand the transmuting philosophy in the former case," +the doctor remarked. + +"It is not that," said Faith with rising colour, for she had seen +Reuben's hand gesture. "It is just taking things as they are." + +"That is a philosophy deeper than that of transmutation!" said the +doctor. "I give it up. But what is the philosophy in this case?--" and +he nodded slightly towards Reuben. + +"If you ever know him, you'll know, Dr. Harrison," Faith said softly. + +"Is he so trustworthy?" said the doctor thoughtfully looking at him; +but then he gave his attention to Faith, and talked of herself and what +she was to do for herself; until seeing no prospect of the doctor's +being out of his way, Reuben was again passing them on his way out. The +doctor arrested him by a slight but pleasant gesture. + +"What are you doing now, Taylor?" + +"Nothing new, sir,--a little for my father and a little for myself." + +"I saw you doing something for your father, I think to-day. Doesn't +that hinder your studies?" + +"Mr. Linden used to say that one duty never _really_ hinders another, +sir." + +"Pleasant doctrine!" said the doctor. "I am tempted to try it now. If +you bestow a little time upon me, it will not perhaps interfere with +your going to dinner afterwards. Does Mr. Linden continue to hold some +of his supervision over you? Do you hear from him sometimes?" + +"Yes sir--both,"--was Reuben's prompt answer. + +"Then you have something to do with the post-office occasionally?" + +"Yes sir." + +"And know pretty well what everybody in Pattaquasset says of every +other body,--don't you?" + +"I don't need to go to the post office for that, sir," Reuben said +quietly. + +"No--I mean by virtue of another office--that which you exercise for +your father. But it is true, isn't it?" + +"Not quite, sir. Some people do not talk to me--and some I never stop +to hear." + +The doctor smiled a little, along with an acute look of approving +intelligence. + +"Well--do you happen to know what is said or thought of the people I +was the means of putting into the post-office, half a year ago?" + +"Not very well, sir. I haven't heard much said about them." + +"As far as your knowledge goes, they seem to be doing their duty?" + +"I make no complaint, sir." + +Dr. Harrison glanced at Faith with a not pleased expression, and back +again. "Does that mean that you have none to make, or that you will +make none? I am asking, you surely must know, not officially nor +judicially; but to gain private information which it is desirable I +should have; and which I ask, and expect to receive, confidentially." + +"Sir," Reuben said gravely, though with a manner perfectly respectful, +"why do you ask _me?_ The gentlemen of Pattaquasset should know more +about their own post-office, than the poor fishers of Quapaw. There is +a clannishness among poor people, sir,--if I had heard anything, I +should not like to tell you." + +The doctor got up and took his old position on the carpet rug, a very +slight air of haughty displeasure mixing with his habitual indolent +gracefulness. + +"This is your knight, Miss Derrick! Apparently the proverb of 'friends' +friends' does not hold good with him. When you are a little older, sir, +you will know--if you grow correspondingly wiser--that the fishers of +Quapaw or of any other point are precisely the people to know in such a +matter what the gentlemen whom it more nearly concerns, cannot get at; +and you have yourself given the reason." + +Faith looked at Reuben with a little inquiring wonder. But he made no +answer, either to her look or the doctor's words; indeed perhaps did +not see the former, for his own eyes were cast down. He stood there, +the fingers of both hands lightly interlaced, his face quiet to the +last degree of immovability. The doctor's first words, to Faith, had +brought a moment's flush to his cheeks, but it had passed with the +moment; gravity and steadiness and truth were all that remained. The +doctor recognized them all, but all as adverse or opposition forces. + +"I will not detain you longer, sir!--I told you, Miss Faith," he said +sitting down and changing his tone, "that I did not know how to cut up +cake--still less how to administer it. I found this family--very +poor--over at Neanticut, on some of my excursions;--and somewhat +carelessly thought they could perform the duty of taking papers out of +a bag, as well as wiser people. There is a girl too, the daughter, who +seemed clever enough. But I have had reason to doubt my own wisdom in +the proceeding, after all." + +Faith heard the door close after Reuben with the first of the doctor's +words to her. She listened to the rest with a divided interest. Her +mind had gone off to her basket of bananas, and was besides occupied +with a little lurking wonder at Reuben's impracticability. But with +nothing strongly, the feeling of weakness and lassitude was so taking +the upper hand of every other. The relaxing now began to tell of the +great tension she had borne for a day or two; the relaxing was entire, +for what the basket had begun Reuben's appearance had finished. Faith +was sure he had a letter for her, and so sat and looked at the doctor +like one whose senses were floating away in a dream--one of those +pleasant dreams that they do not wish to break. + +"You are faint!" said the doctor suddenly. "Mrs. Derrick, have you any +wine in the house? I should like some here." + +But Mrs. Derrick's first step (it seemed but that) was to Faith--taking +her out of the easy-chair and putting her on the couch before any one +had time to say ay or no. There she left her while she opened the +closet and got out the wine; bringing it then to Faith and setting the +doctor aside most unceremoniously. Faith had not quite reached the +fainting point, though she was near it from mere inanition. She drank +the wine, and smiled at them both like one who had a secret wine of her +own that she was taking privately. + +"What _will_ she eat, Mrs. Derrick?" said the doctor in real concern. +"Tea and toast won't do!" + +"I will take something presently," Faith said with another of those +childlike satisfied looks. They made Dr. Harrison very unlike himself, +always. He stood so now. + +"Doctor," said Mrs. Derrick, in her odd, free, rather blunt and yet +kindly way, "you are a very good doctor, I dare say, but you're not +much of a nurse. Now I am--and I'll find her something to eat,--you +needn't be uneasy." + +He looked at her with one of the best smiles that ever came over his +face; bright, free and kindly; then turned to Faith. + +"What made your knight so cross with me?" he said as he bent over her +to take her hand. + +"I don't know--" said Faith. "I am sure he had some good reason." + +"Reason to be cross!"-- + +"He didn't mean to be cross. You don't know Reuben Taylor." + +The doctor was inclined to be of a different opinion, for his brows +knit as soon as he had closed her door. + +"Now mother!" said Faith half raising herself,--"please let me have my +basket. I am going to try one of those queer things. That is what I +want." + +"Do you know what I want?" said Mrs. Derrick as she brought up the +basket. "Just to have Dr. Harrison find Mr. Linden here some day!" +Which severe sentence was so much softened down by the weight of the +basket, that it sounded quite harmless. + +Faith was too eager to get the cover off to pay present attention to +this speech. There they were again! the red and yellow strange, +beautiful, foreign-looking things which she was to eat; too handsome to +disturb. But finally a red plump banana was cut from the stem, and +Faith looked at it in her fingers, uncertain how to begin the attack. +Looking back to the little empty space where it had been, Faith became +"ware" of an end of blue ribband beneath said space. Down went the +banana and down went Faith. The loop of ribband being pulled gently +suggested that it was not able to contend with an unknown weight of +bananas; but when Faith partly held these up, the ribband yielded to +persuasion, and tugged after it into the daylight a tiny package--which +being unwrapped revealed a tiny oval case; wherein lay, last of all, a +delicate silver knife. Faith's face of overflowing delight it was good +to see. + +"O mother!--how just like him!--Mother!" exclaimed Faith,--"this is to +eat those with!" + +Could anything more be wanting to give bananas a flavour? They happened +moreover to hit the fancy the doctor had been so anxious to suit. Faith +liked her first one very much, and pronounced it very nearly the best +of all fruits. But being persuaded to try one, Mrs. Derrick avowed that +she could not eat it and wondered how Faith could; declaring that in +her judgment if a thing was sweet at all, it ought to be sweeter. + +If Dr. Harrison could have seen the atmosphere of peace and delight his +knit brows had left behind them! + +As soon as he was gone, Reuben brought up the letters. And with +sunshine all round her, Faith read them and went to sleep, which she +did with the little case that held her knife clasped in her hand. Sleep +claimed her while fever took its turn and passed away for the day. +Faith woke up towards evening, weak and weary in body, unable to make +much lively shew of the "merry heart" which "doeth good like a +medicine". + +"My studies don't get on very fast at this rate, mother," she remarked +as she sat in the easy-chair at her tea, unable to hold her head up. + +"This has been a hard day," her mother said sadly as she looked at her. +"Faith, I won't let Dr. Harrison pay any more such long visits! he +tires you to death." + +"It wasn't that. Mother--I think I'll have one of those things out of +my basket--I wish Mr. Linden had told me what to call them." + +Mrs. Derrick brought the basket and looked on intently. + +"When is he coming, child?" she said. + +Faith did not certainly know. Under the influence of a plantain and the +silver knife she revived a little. + +"Mother--what made you wish Dr. Harrison might meet Mr. Linden here?" + +"It would save him a world of trouble," said Mrs. Derrick kindly. "And +besides, child, I'm tired seeing him buzz round you, myself. Faith, Mr. +Linden would say that _he_ ought to be told you're sick." + +"I can judge for him once in a while," Faith said with a little bit of +a triumphing smile. + +"Well--" said her mother,--"you'll see what he'll say. I guess he'd +rather you'd judge for him about something else." + +From that time letters went and came through the Patchaug post-office. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + + +Faith rallied somewhat from the prostration that succeeded those days +of anxiety; but then the fever again asserted its empire, and strength, +little by little but daily, lost ground rather than gained it. Though +not ever very high, the fever came back with persevering regularity; it +would not be baffled; and such always recurring assaults are trying to +flesh and blood and to spirit too, be they of what they may. Faith's +patience and happy quiet never left her; as the weeks went on it did +happen that the quiet grew more quiet, and was even a little bordering +on depression. One or two things helped this uncomfortably. + +The sense of the extreme unpleasantness of such a meeting as her mother +had wished for, perhaps startled Faith to a fresh sense of what she had +to do in the premises. She resolved to be as grave and cool as it was +possible to be, in Dr. Harrison's presence. She would keep him at such +a distance as should wean him from any thoughts of her. Faith tried +faithfully to do what she had purposed. But it was very difficult to +keep at a distance a person who did not pretend to be near, or only +pretended it in a line where he could not be repulsed. He must see her +every day as her physician. He must be allowed the kindly expression of +kind feelings; he could not be forbidden to bring to his patient, as +her friend and physician, such things as he thought her strength, or +weakness, needed. These instances of thoughtfulness and care for her +were many. Birds, old wine from his father's cellar, flowers from the +greenhouse, and fruit from nobody knows where, came often; and the +manner of offering them, the quiet, unobtrusive, unexacting kindness +and attention, it was scarce possible to reject without something that +would have seemed churlishness. Faith took them as gravely as she could +without being unkind. Her illness helped her, and also hindered the +effect she wished to produce. Feeling weak and weary and unable for any +sort of exertion, it was the easier for her to be silent, abstracted, +unresponsive to anything that was said or done. And also her being so +signified the less and testified the less of her real purpose. Faith +knew it and could not help it. She could not besides be anything but +natural; and she felt kindly towards Dr. Harrison; with a grave +kindness, that yet was more earnest in its good wishes for him than any +other perhaps that existed for Dr. Harrison in the world. Faith could +not hide that, careful as she was in her manner of shewing it. And +there was one subject upon which she dared not be unresponsive or +abstracted when the doctor brought it up. He brought it up now very +often. + +She did not know how it was, she was far from knowing why it was; but +the pleasant talk with which the doctor sought to amuse her, and which +was most skilfully pleasant as to the rest, was very apt to glance upon +Bible subjects; and as it touched, to brush them with the wing of +doubt--or difficulty or--uneasiness. Dr. Harrison did not see things as +she did--that was of old; but he contrived to let her see that he +doubted she did not see them right, and somehow contrived also to make +her hear his reasons. It was done with the art of a master and the +steady aim of a general who has a great field to win. Faith did not +want to hear his suggestions of doubt and cavil. She remembered Mr. +Linden's advice long ago given; repeated it to herself every day; and +sought to meet Dr. Harrison only with the sling stone of truth and let +his weapons of artificial warfare alone. Truly she "had not proved +these," and "could not go with them." But whatever effect her sling +might have upon him, which she knew not, his arrows were so cunningly +thrown that they wounded her. Not in her belief; she never failed for a +moment to be aware that they were arrows from a false quiver, that the +sword of truth would break with a blow. And yet, in her weak state of +body and consequent weak state of mind, the sight of such poisoned +arrows flying about distressed her; the mere knowledge that they did +fly and bore death with them; a knowledge which once she happily had +not. All this would have pained her if she had been well; in the +feverish depression of illness it weighed upon her like a mountain of +cloud. Faith's shield caught the darts and kept them from herself; but +in her increasing nervous weakness her hand at last grew weary; and it +seemed to Faith then as if she could see nothing but those arrows +flying through the air. But there was one human form before which, she +knew, this mental array of enemies would incontinently take flight and +disappear; she knew they would not stand the first sound of Mr. +Linden's voice; and her longing grew intense for his coming. How did +she ever keep it out of her letters! Yet it hardly got in there, for +she watched it well. Sometimes the subdued "I want to see you very +much,"--at the close of a letter, said, more than Faith knew it did; +and she could not be aware how much was told by the tone of her +writing. That had changed, though that too was guarded, so far as she +could. She could not pour out a light, free, and joyous account of all +that was going on within and about her, when she was suffering +alternately from fever and weakness, and through both from depression +and nervous fancies. Most unlike Faith! and she tried to seem her usual +self then when she came most near it, in writing to him. But it was a +nice matter to write letters for so many weeks out of a sick room and +not let Mr. Linden find out that she herself was there all the while. +His letters however were both a help and a spur; Faith talked a good +deal of things not at Pattaquasset; and through all weakness and ailing +sent her exercises prepared with utmost care, regularly as usual. It +hurt her; but Faith would not be stopped. Her sickness she knew after +all was but a light matter; and nothing could persuade her to break in +upon Mr. Linden's term of study with any more interruptions for her. +And even to Mrs. Derrick she did not tell the keen heart-longing, which +daily grew more urgent, for that term to come to an end. + +Mrs. Derrick did sometimes connect the cause of her weariness with Dr. +Harrison, and was indignant in proportion. Faith looked at him with +different eyes, and her feeling was of very gentle and deep sorrow for +him. It was by the appeal to that side of her character that Dr. +Harrison gained all his advantage. + +Faith's shield caught his arrows of unbelieving suggestion and threw +them off from her own heart; she could not put that shield between them +and the doctor, and that was her grief. It grieved her more than he +thought. And yet, it was with a half conscious, half instinctive +availing himself of this feeling that he aimed and managed his attacks +with such consummate tact and skill. Faith would not have entered into +controversy; she would not have taken up a gauntlet of challenge; did +he know that? His hints and questions were brought into the subject, +Faith knew not how; but the point of view in which they always +presented themselves was as troublers of his own mind--difficulties he +would willingly have solved--questions he would like to see answered. +And Faith's words, few or many, for she was sometimes drawn on, were +said in the humble yearning desire to let him know what she rejoiced in +and save him from an abyss of false fathomless depth. It was more than +she could do. Dr. Harrison's subtle difficulties and propositions had +been contrived in a school of which she knew nothing; and were far too +subtle and complicate in their false wit for Faith's true wit to +answer. Not at all for lack of wit, but for lack of skill in fencing +and of experience in the windings of duplicity. So she heard things +that grieved her and that she could not shew up to the doctor for what +she knew them to be. + +"I am no better than this little knife!" she thought bitterly one day, +as she was looking at her favourite silver banana-carver;--"it can go +through soft fruit well enough, but it isn't strong enough or sharp +enough to deal with anything harder!--" + +Faith did herself injustice. It takes sometimes little less than +Ithuriel's spear to make the low, insidious, unobtrusive forms of evil +stand up and shew themselves what they are--the very Devil! + +"Reuben," said Faith one time when they were alone together,--"did you +ever hear any of the mischievous talk against the Bible, of people who +don't love it?" + +"Yes, Miss Faith,--I never heard a great deal at a time--only little +bits now and then. And I've felt some times from a word or two what +other words the people had in their hearts." + +"Don't ever let people talk it to you, Reuben, unless God makes it your +duty to hear it," she said wearily. Reuben looked at her. + +"Do you think he _ever_ makes it our duty, Miss Faith?" + +"I don't know!" said Faith, a little as if the question startled her. +"But you might be where you could not help it, Reuben." + +He was silent, looking rather thoughtfully into the fire. + +"Miss Faith," he said, "you remember when Christian was going through +the Valley of the Shadow of Death, the fiends came and whispered to him +all sorts of dreadful things which he would not have thought of for the +world. 'But,' as Mr. Bunyan says, 'he had not the discretion either to +stop his ears, or to know from whence those blasphemies came.'" Reuben +blushed a little at his own advice-giving, but made no other apology. + +There was much love and respect and delight in Faith's swift look at +him. Her words glanced. "Reuben, I am glad you are going to be a +minister!"--She added with the sorrowful look stealing over her face, +"I wish the world was full of ministers!--if they were good ones." + +His face was very bright and grateful, and humble too. "Miss Faith," he +said, taking up her words, "don't you love to think of that other +definition of minister?--you know--'ye ministers of his, that do his +pleasure.'" + +"In that way the world is full now," said Faith; "in all things except +men. But by and by 'the great trumpet will be blown' and 'they that +were ready to perish' shall come, from everywhere. It's good to know +that." + +"It's such a beautiful thing to know, just by believing!" Reuben +said,--"don't you think so, Miss Faith? And then whatever people say or +do, and if we can't find a word to answer them, we _know_ down in our +hearts, that the Bible is true. And so 'by faith we stand.'" + +"But we ought to find words to answer them, Reuben--or else, though +_we_ stand, they fall!" + +"Yes, ma'am--sometimes," Reuben said rather hesitatingly. "Only--I've +heard Mr. Linden say that a Christian must take care of his own +standing _first_, and do nothing to shake that; or else he may have his +own light blown out while he's trying to light other people's. You +know, Miss Faith, the five wise virgins would not give their oil to the +others. I've heard Mr. Linden talk about it very often," Reuben added +softly, as if he wanted to screen himself from the charge of +presumption. + +If Faith was bringing charges, it was against herself, for she sat very +silent and thoughtful, and weary also; for when for the fifth or sixth +time Reuben brought his eyes from the fire to her face he saw that she +had fallen asleep. + +Mr. Linden's letters about this time told two or three things, among +the rest that he might soon be looked for instead of letters. Moreover +that he felt sure he was wanted--and further, that Faith's letters had +changed. These two last things were not said in words, but Faith read +them none the less surely--read thus first that her letters really +_were_ different. Just what cause Mr. Linden assigned to himself, she +did not know, nor whether he had fixed upon any; but it was clear that +nothing but the fact that his freedom was so close at hand, kept him +from freeing himself at once and coming to Pattaquasset. And second +only to Faith did Mrs. Derrick long for his appearance. + +She had heard bits of the doctor's talk from time to time, but for a +while with some doubt of their meaning,--as whether he was reporting +what other people said, or whether she had heard him correctly. But +when by degrees the goodness of her hearing attested itself, _then_ +Mrs. Derrick's indignation began to follow suit. The doctor's object +she did not at first guess (perhaps made it, if possible, worse than it +was) but that made little difference. + +On this particular afternoon, when Faith woke up she found Reuben gone +and her mother keeping watch. The fair look that always greeted Mrs. +Derrick was given her, but otherwise the face she was studying was not +satisfactory. The roundness of the cheek was much lessened, the colour +was gone, and the lines of expression were weary though she had slept. +Or rather perhaps they were too gravely drawn. + +"Faith," said her mother decisively, "you want your tea. Can you eat a +broiled pigeon, if I broil it myself?" + +"I can eat a piece of one, if you'll take the rest, mother," she said +with a smile at her. "I eat a whole banana just before I went to sleep." + +"Well this ain't the doctor's pigeon, so I guess it will be good," said +Mrs. Derrick. "Sam Stoutenburgh brought it.--And I'm going to cook it +here, pretty child, because I want to be here myself. I suppose the +smoke won't trouble you if it goes up chimney?" + +"I'd like it, smoke and all, mother," said Faith, changing the +resting-place for her head. "But you needn't slight the doctor's +birds--they were as fine birds as could be--when I could eat them." + +"'Birds of a feather'"--said Mrs. Derrick laconically. And she drew out +some of the glowing and winking embers, and set thereon the tiny +gridiron with its purplish plump pigeon. "Sam's home now, Faith, and +you'd think he'd been through every degree of everything. But the first +thing he did was to go off and shoot pigeons for you." + +Faith was inclined to think he had not got above one degree. She sat in +her easy-chair and watched the play cookery with amused pleased eyes. + +"I should like to be in the kitchen again, mother--doing something for +you." + +"You shall do something for me presently," said her mother, as the +pigeon began to send out little puffs of steam and jets of juice, which +the coals resented. "_This_ one's fat, anyway--and there's a half dozen +more. The fun of it is, child, that Sam was afraid there weren't +enough!--he wanted to know if I was _sure_ they'd last till +to-morrow!--so I guess _he's_ not in a fainting away state. I told him +we'd roast beef in the house, for you to fall back upon, child," she +added with a little laugh, as she turned the pigeon. But her face was +very grave the next moment, with the sorrowful reality. "Pretty child," +she said tenderly, "do you feel as if you could eat a muffin or a +biscuit best?" + +"Mother, that pigeon is making me hungry, it smells so nice. I am sure +I can eat anything." + +"Well I _made_ muffins," said Mrs. Derrick, bustling softly about with +the little table and the tea-things. "Faith, I'm afraid to have Mr. +Linden come home and find your cheeks so thin." + +"I'm not," said Faith quietly. + +"My!" said her mother, "you never were afraid of anything he'd a mind +to do, child. But for all _I_ know, he may carry you off to Europe in +the next steamer. He's up to 'most anything," said Mrs. Derrick +stooping down by the pigeon, and giving it the persuasion of a few more +coals. + +Faith said languidly that she did not think there was much danger, and +Mrs. Derrick for the present concentrated her attention upon the tea +preparations. Cindy came up with a little teakettle, and Mrs. Derrick +made the tea, and then went down stairs to superintend the first baking +of the muffins, leaving the teakettle to sing Faith into a very quiet +state of mind. Then presently reappearing, with a smoking plate of +cakes in her hand, Mrs. Derrick took up the pigeon, with due +applications of butter and salt and pepper, and the tea was ready. It +was early; the sunbeams were lingering yet in the room, the air wafted +in through the window the sweet dewy breath of flowers and buds and +springing grass over the pigeon and muffins; and by Faith's plate stood +the freshest of watercresses in a little white bowl. These Reuben +brought her every day, wet from the clear stream where they grew, +shining with the drops of bright water, and generally sprinkled too +with some of the spring flowers. To-day the plate on which the bowl +stood had a perfect wreath or crown of mouse-ear,--the pale pink +blossoms saying all sorts of sweet things. The room was well off for +flowers in other respects. Dr. Harrison's hothouse foreigners looked +dainty and splendid, and Mrs. Stoutenburgh's periwinkle and crocuses +and daffodils looked springlike and fresh; while in another glass a +rich assortment of dandelions spoke a prettier message yet, from +Charles twelfth and his little compeers. + +"And the mouse-ear is come!" said Faith as she applied herself to the +refreshment of salt and watercresses. "I wonder whether Reuben does +this because he loves flowers him self, or because he knows I do. I +guess it's both. How lovely they are! How my dairy must want me, +mother." Which was said with a little recollective patient sigh. + +"I guess it can wait," said her mother cheerfully. "And I guess it'll +have to. You needn't think you'll be let do anything for one while, +Faith." + +"I guess I shall, mother. I am sure I am stronger to-day,--and Dr. +Harrison said I had less fever. And your pigeon is good. Besides, I +_must_,--if I can,"--said Faith, with an anticipative glance this time. + +"It's my belief, child," said her mother, "that if Dr. Harrison had +staid away altogether--or never staid here more than five minutes at a +time, you'd have been better long ago. But I think you _are_ better--in +spite of him." + +Of the two subjects Faith preferred the pigeon to Dr. Harrison, and +discussed it quite to her mother's satisfaction. But if silent, she +thought never the less. Both Reuben Taylor's words and her mother's +words quickened her to thinking, and thinking seemed of very little +use. The next day when the doctor came she was as grave and still and +unresponsive as she could be. And it had no effect on him whatever. He +was just as usual, he talked just as usual; and Faith could but be +grieved, and be silent. It did not enter her gentle imagination that +the very things which so troubled her were spoken on purpose to trouble +her. How could it? when they made their way into the conversation and +into her hearing as followers of something else, as harpies that +worried or had worried somebody else, as shapes that a cloud might take +and be a cloud again--only she could not forget that shape. It was near +now the time for Mr. Linden to come home, and Faith looked for his +coming with an hourly breath of longing. It seemed to her that his very +being there would at once break the mesh Dr. Harrison was so busy +weaving and in which she had no power to stop him. + +But the doctor's opportunity for playing this game was nearing an end, +and he knew it. He did not know that Mr. Linden was coming; he did know +that Faith was getting well. + +A day or two after the talk with Reuben it happened that Mrs. Derrick +was detained down stairs when the doctor came up to see Faith. The room +was full of a May warmth and sweetness from the open windows; and Faith +herself in a white dress instead of the brown wrapper, looked May-like +enough. Not so jocund and blooming certainly; she was more like a +snowdrop than a crocus. Her cheeks were pale and thin, but their colour +was fresh; and her eye had the light of returning health,--or of +returning something else! + +"You are getting well!" said the doctor. "I shall lose my work--and +forgive me, my pleasure!" + +"I will give you some better work to do, Dr. Harrison." + +"What is that? Anything for you!--" + +"It is not for me. That little lame child to whom you sent the +rose-tree, Dr. Harrison,--she is very sick. Would you go and see her?" + +"Did you think I would not?" he said rather gravely. + +"I want to see her very much myself," Faith went on;--"but I suppose I +could not take so long a ride yet. Could I?" + +The doctor looked at her. + +"I think the mother of the Gracchi must have been something such a +woman!" he said with an indescribable grave comic mien;--"and the other +Roman mother that saved Rome and lost her son! Or that lady of Sparta +who made the affectionate request to _her_ son about coming home from +the battle on his shield! I thought the race had died out." + +Faith could not help laughing. He had not been sure that she would +understand his allusions, but his watchful eye saw that she did. + +"Were you educated in Pattaquasset?" he said. "Pardon me!"-- + +All Faith's gravity returned, and all her colour too. "No, sir," she +said, "I have never been educated. I am studying now." + +"Studying!" said he gently. "You have little need to study." + +"Why, sir?" + +"There are minds and natures so rich by their original constitution, +that their own free growth is a fuller and better harvest than all the +schoolmasters in the world can bring out of other people." + +Again Faith's cheek was dyed. "I was poor enough," she said bowing her +head for a moment. "I am poor now,--but I am studying." + +In which last words lay perhaps the tiniest evidence of an intention +not to be poor always. A suspicious glance of thought shot from the +doctor's mind. But as it had happened more than once before, the +simplicity of Faith's frankness misled him, and he dismissed suspicion. + +"If you want an illustration of my meaning," he went on without change +of manner, "permit me to remind you that your paragon of +character,--the Rhododendron--does no studying. My conclusion is plain!" + +"The Rhododendron does all it can." + +"Well--" said the doctor,--"it is impossible to trace the limits of the +influences of mignonette." + +Faith looked grave. She was thinking how very powerless her influences +had been. + +"Don't you see that I have made out my position?" + +"No." + +"What sort of studying--may I ask it?--do you favour most?" he said +with a smile. + +"I like all kinds--every kind!" + +"I believe that. I know you have a love for chymistry, and Shakspeare, +and natural history. But I should like to know Mignonette's favourite +atmosphere." + +"The study I like best of all is the one you like least, Dr. Harrison." + +"What may that be, Miss Faith?" + +"The study of the Bible." + +"The Bible! Surely you know that already," he said in an interested +voice. + +"Did you think so?" said Faith quickly and with secret humbleness. "You +made a great mistake, Dr. Harrison. But there is nothing I take such +deep lessons in;--nor such pleasant ones." + +"You mistake me too, Miss Faith. I do like it. You are strong enough +for it to-day--I wish you would give me one of those lessons you speak +of?" + +"If you loved it, sir, you would not ask me. You would find them for +yourself." + +"Another mistake!" said the doctor. "I might love them, and yet ask +you. Won't you give me one?" + +She lifted to his a look so gentle and grave that he could not think +she was displeased, or harsh, or even unkind. But she answered him, +"No." + +"Don't you feel strong enough for it?" he said with a shade of concern. + +"Yes." + +"You think you have given me one lesson already," he said smiling, +"which I am not attending to. I will go and see your little sick child +immediately. But I don't know the way! I wish you were well enough to +pilot me. I can't find her by the sign of the rosebush?" + +"Reuben Taylor will take you there, Dr. Harrison, if you will let him. +He goes there often." + +"If I will let him! Say, if he will let me! Your knight does not smile +upon me, Miss Faith." + +"Why not?" + +"I'm sure I'm not qualified to give evidence," said the doctor half +laughing at having the tables turned upon him. "Unless his chivalric +devotion to you is jealous of every other approach--even mine. But you +say he will guide me to the rosebush?" + +"I am sure he will with great pleasure, Dr. Harrison." + +"And I will go with great pleasure--for you." + +He was standing before her, looking down. There was something in the +look that made Faith's colour come again. She answered seriously, "No +sir--not for me." + +"Why not?" + +"I can't reward you," said Faith; trembling, for she felt she was +speaking to the point. "Do it for a better reason." + +"Will you shew me a better?" + +She answered instantly with a bright little smile, "'Give, and it shall +be given unto you; full measure, pressed down, heaped up, and running +over, shall men give into your bosom.'" + +"In another world!--" said the doctor. + +"No--in this. The promise stands for it." + +"It's your part of this world--not mine; and unless you shew me the +way, Miss Faith, I shall never get into it."--Then more gently, taking +her hand and kissing it, he added, "Are you tired of trying to help me?" + +Faith met his keen eye, reddened, and drooped her head; for indeed she +felt weak. And her words were low and scarce steady. "I will not be +tired of praying for you, Dr Harrison." + +What swift electric current along the chain of association moved the +doctor's next question. He was silent a minute before he spoke it; then +spoke in a clear even voice. "May I ask you--is it impertinent--what +first led you to this way of thinking?--Sophy says you were not always +so." + +The colour deepened on Faith's cheek, he saw that, and deepened more. + +"The teaching is always of heaven, sir. But it came to me through the +hands of the friend who was so long in our house--last year." + +"And has that adventurer counselled you to trust no friend that isn't +of his way of thinking?" the doctor said with some haughtiness of +accent. + +Faith raised her eyes and looked at him, the steady grave look that the +doctor never liked to meet from those soft eyes. It fixed his, till her +eyes fell with a sudden motion, and the doctor's followed +them--whither? To that gloved forefinger which he had often noticed was +kept covered. Faith was slowly drawing the covering off; and something +in her manner or her look kept his eyes rivetted there. Slowly, +deliberately, Faith uncovered the finger, and in full view the +brilliants sparkled; danced and leapt, as it seemed to Faith, whose +eyes saw nothing else. She did not dare look up, nor could, for a +double reason. She sat like a fair statue, looking still and only at +the diamond sign, while the blood in her cheeks that bore witness to it +seemed the only moving thing about her. That rose and deepened, from +crimson to scarlet, and from her cheeks to the rim of her hair. + +She never saw the changes in her neighbour's face, nor what struggles +the paleness and the returning flush bore witness to. She never looked +up. She had revealed all; she was willing he should conceal all,--that +he could. It was but a minute or two, though Faith's measurement made +it a more indefinite time; and Dr. Harrison took her hand again, +precisely in his usual manner, remarked that it was possible he might +be obliged to go south in a day or two _for_ a day or two, but that he +rather thought he had cured her; and so went off, with no difference of +tone that any stranger could have told, and Faith never raised her eyes +to see how he looked. + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + + +Dr. Harrison sent away his curricle and walked home,--slowly, with his +hands behind him, as if the May air had made him lazy. To any one that +met him, he wore as disengaged an air as usual; his eye was as coolly +cognizant of all upon which it fell, and his brow never looked less +thoughtful. While his head never had been more busy. He kept the secret +of his pride--he had kept and would keep it, well; no one should guess +what he bore; but he bore a writhing brain and a passion that was +heaving with disappointment. To no end--except to expose himself--he +had worked at his mining operations all these months; nothing could be +more absolute than the silence of Faith's answer; nothing could be more +certain than the fixedness of her position. Against the very +impassableness of the barrier the doctor's will chafed, even while his +hope gave way. He ruthlessly called himself a fool for it too, at the +minute. But he was unused to be baffled; and no man pursues long with +such deliberate energy a purpose upon which he has set his heart, +without having all the cords of his will and his passion knit at last +into a cable of strength and tenacity. The doctor's walk grew slower, +and his eyes fell on the ground. How lovely Faith had looked--even +then, when she was putting him and herself to pain; how speakingly the +crimson hues had chased each other all over her face, and neck; how +shyly her eyelashes had kept their place on her cheek; with how +exquisite grace her still attitude had been maintained. And withal what +a piece of simplicity she was! What a contrast those superb diamonds +had made with the almost quaint unadornedness of her figure in its +white wrapper. A contrast that somehow was not inharmonious, and with +which the doctor's artistic taste confessed itself bewitched, though +Faith's only other remotest ornament was that very womanly one of her +rich brown hair. A piece of simplicity? Could she be beyond his reach? +With duty between,--yes; otherwise,--no! as all the doctor's experience +told him. And he walked leisurely past his own door, past the houses of +the village, on almost to the entrance of the woody road; then turned +and came with a brisker pace back. He still called himself a fool, +secretly; but he went into the library and wrote a letter. Which in +course of time was received and read by Mr. Linden between two of his +pieces of work. + +It appeared the next day that Dr. Harrison had changed his mind, or his +plans, about going south; for he came as usual to see Faith. In every +sense as usual; to her astonishment no traces remained of the +yesterday's conversation. The ease and kindliness of his manner had +suffered no abatement, although a little touch of regretfulness, just +allowed to appear, forbade her to doubt that she had been understood. +Spite of herself, she could not help being presently again almost at +ease with him. Nevertheless Faith wished he had gone south. + +She did not feel sure that Mr. Linden would be pleased with the state +of matters, as days went on, and she was sure she was not pleased +herself. There was something she did not understand. The doctor's +manner was not presuming, in a way; neither did he obtrude even his +sorrow upon her; yet he took the place of a privileged person--she felt +that--and she was obliged to see his pain in the very silence and in +the play of words or of face which she thought assumed to conceal it. +She was very sorry for him, and in the same breath thought she must +have been wrong in something, though she could not see how, or things +would never have come to such a point. + +She could not guess--how could she!--that the doctor was playing a +desperate game and had thrown his last stake on the chance of a flaw in +Mr. Linden's confidence towards her or in hers towards him, or of a +flaw in the temper of either of them, or a flaw in their pride, or +affection! There are flaws in so many characters! Did but either of +them lack moral courage, or truth, or trust, or common sense, like a +great many of the rest of the world--and the doctor had gained his +ground! For Dr. Harrison had determined that Faith's religious opinions +should not stand in his way; she should think as he did, or--he would +think with her! + +Of all this Faith knew nothing. She had only an intuitive sense that +something was not right; and doubt and annoyance kept her strength +back. She lost ground again. All summed itself up in a longing for Mr. +Linden to come. + +Meanwhile Mr. Linden had received and read the following despatch, and +studied and taught before and after it as best he might. + + + +_Pattaquasset_, _April_, 18--. + + + +"MY DEAR LINDEN, + + + +I do not know what impulse prompts me to write this letter to you--A +very strong one, probably, that makes fools of men--Yet even with my +eyes open to this, I go on. + +I have unwittingly become your rival. Not in fact, indeed, but in +character. I have been so unfortunate as to love a person you are +somehow concerned in--and before I knew that you had any concern of the +kind. That is a very simple story, and only one to be smothered--not to +be brought to open air,--were it all. But the course of the months +past, which has too late brought me this knowledge of myself, has also +made me believe that--had I a fair field--were there no contrary ties +or fetters of conscience--I should not love in vain. What those ties +are I know nothing--I have not asked--but the existence of _some_ +obligation I have been given to understand. With certain natures of +truth and duty, that is a barrier impassable. You would be safe, were I +to act out of honour. + +I am a fool, I believe; but I am not yet such a fool as not to know +that there is but one man in the world to whom I could write such a +confession. Nothing better prompts it than pure selfishness, I am +aware--but with me that is strong. I have that notion of you that you +would not care to keep what you held _only_ by priority of claim. I may +be wrong in the supposition upon which I am going--yet it is my chance +for life and I cannot yield it up. That were the lady _free_--in +conscience as well as in fact--she might be induced to look favourably +on me. I ought to add, that I believe such a consciousness has never +shaped itself to her mind--the innocence with which she may at first +have entered into some sort of obligation, would not lessen or alter +its truth or stringency to her pure mind. The game is in your own +hands, Linden--so is + + + +Your unworthy friend + + + +JULIUS HARRISON. + + + +P.S.--One thing further I ought to add--that a somewhat delicate state +of nerves and health, over which I have been for some time watching, +would make any rash broaching of this subject very inexpedient and +unsafe. I need not enforce this hint." + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + + +The spring opened from day to day, and the apple blossoms were +bursting. Mr. Linden might soon be looked for, and one warm May +afternoon Faith went in to make his room ready. It was the first day +she had been fit for it, and she was yet so little strong that she must +take care of her movements. With slow and unable fingers she did her +pleasant work, and then very tired, sat down in her old reading +window-seat and went into a long dream-meditation. It was pleasant for +a while, in harmony with the summer air and the robins in the maple; it +got round at last into the train of the last weeks. A fruitless reverie +ended in Faith's getting very weary; and she went back to her own room +to put herself on the couch cushions and go to sleep. + +Sleep held on its way after a peaceful fashion, yet not so but that +Faith's face shewed traces of her thoughts. Mrs. Derrick came softly +and watched her, and the spring air blew back the curtains and fanned +her, and brushed her hair with its perfumed wings; and one or two honey +bees buzzed in and sought honey from the doctor's flowers, and forsook +them again for the fields. + +Up there at last, following Mrs. Derrick, came Mr. Linden. With few +reasons asked or told of his sudden appearance; with little said even +of Faith's illness but the mere fact, he went up to the sunlit room and +there staid. Not restingly in Faith's easy-chair, but standing by the +low fire-place, just where he could have the fullest view of her. Mrs. +Derrick came and went,--he never stirred. The sunbeams came and +went--wrapped Faith in their bright folds and lay at his feet, then +began to withdraw altogether. They had shewed him the unwontedly pale +and worn face, and lit up the weary lines in which the lips lay asleep; +and just when the sunbeams had left it all, Mr. Linden became aware +that two dark eyes had softly opened and were gazing at him as if he +were a figure in a dream. So perhaps for a minute he seemed, touched +with the light as he was, which made a glorification in the brown locks +of his hair and gleamed about "pleasant outlines" standing as fixed and +still as a statue. But they were not statue eyes which looked into +hers, and Faith's dreamlike gaze was only for a moment. Then every line +of her face changed with joy--and she sprang up to hide it in Mr. +Linden's arms. He stood still, holding her as one holds some rescued +thing. For Faith was too weak to be just herself, and weariness and +gladness had found their own very unusual expression in an outflow of +nervous tears. + +Something seemed to have taken away Mr. Linden's power of words. He did +place her among the cushions again, but if every one of her tears had +been balm to him he could not have let them flow more unchecked. +Perhaps the recollection that they _were_ tears came suddenly; for with +very sudden sweet peremptoriness he said, + +"Faith, hush!--Are you so glad to see me?" + +She was instantly still. No answer. + +"What then?" The intonation was most tender,--so, rather than by any +playfulness, cancelling his own question. She raised her head, she had +dismissed her tears, yet the smile with which her glance favoured him +was a sort of rainbow smile, born of clouds. + +"That is a very struggling and misty sunbeam!" said Mr. Linden. "Is +that why I was kept out of its range so long?" + +Faith's head drooped. Her forehead lay lightly against him; he could +not see what sort of a smile she wore. + +"Whereupon it goes into seclusion altogether. Mignonette, look up and +kiss me--how much longer do you suppose I can wait for that?" + +He had no longer to wait at that time, and the touch of her lips was +with a tremulous gladness which was tale-telling. And then the position +of the lowered head and the hand which kept its place on his shoulder +shewed him that she was clinging, though with shy eagerness, like a +bird that with tired wing has found her nest. With one of those quick +impulses which to-day seemed to have taken the place of his usual +steadiness, Mr. Linden bent down and blessed her; in words such as she +never remembered from other lips. Not many indeed, but deep and +strong,--as the very depth and strength of his own human and religious +nature; words that stilled Faith's heart as with the shadowing of +peace; so that for the time she could not wonder, but only rest. They +made her tremble a moment; then she rested as if the words had been a +spell. But the rest wrought action. Faith drew back presently and +looked up at Mr. Linden to see how he looked. And then she could not +tell. Her puzzled eyes found nothing to remark upon. + +"Endy--I thought you would not be here for two or three days yet." + +"It was nearly impossible. My child, when did you get sick?" + +"O--a good while ago." + +"'A good while,'"--Mr. Linden repeated with grave emphasis. "Well do +you think it would have lengthened the time to have me come and see +you?" + +Faith's heart was too full, and her answer, looking down, was a +tremulous, quiet and tender, + +"I don't think it would." + +"Then wherefore was I not permitted?" + +"I didn't want you to come then." + +"And again, wherefore?" + +"Why you know, Endy. I couldn't want you till you were ready to come." + +"I should have been most emphatically ready! What sort of medical +attendance have you had?" + +"Good, you know. I had Dr. Harrison." + +"And he did his duty faithfully?" + +"I guess he always does--his medical duty," said Faith somewhat quietly. + +"Duty is a sort of whole-souled thing, to my mind," said Mr. Linden. +"Do you think all his ministrations did you good?" + +There was pain and wonder, and even some fear in Faith's eyes as she +looked at Mr. Linden. + +"They ought not to have done me any harm"--she said meekly. + +"_Did_ they, Faith? I thought--" Very softly and thoughtfully his +fingers came about her hair, his eyes looking at her, Faith could +hardly tell how. The pain of those weeks stung her again--the sorrow +and the shame and the needlessness. Faith's head sunk again upon Mr. +Linden's breast, for the tears came bitterly; though he could not know +that. He only knew that they came. Holding her with a strong arm--as if +against some one else; soothing her with grave kisses, not with words, +Mr. Linden waited for her to speak. + +"Child," he said at last, "you will do yourself harm. Has _he_ brought +on this state of the nerves that he talks about? And in what possible +way?" + +"Don't talk about it, Endy!--" said Faith struggling for +self-command--"I am foolish--and wrong--and weak. I'll tell you another +time."--But Faith's head kept its position. + +"Do you think I can wait, to know what has made my coming home such a +tearful affair?" + +"Yes. Because it's all over now." + +"What is over?" + +"All--that you wouldn't like." + +"Faith, you talk in perfect riddles!--It is well that what I can see of +this very pale little face is less puzzling. Did you tell Dr. Harrison +of your claim upon me?" + +"What?--" she said looking up. + +"Well.--You know what that claim is. Did you tell him, Faith?" + +Her eyes fell again. "Yes--at least--I shewed him my ring." + +"In answer to his suit, Faith?" + +"No.--He was talking as I did not like, one day."--Faith's cheeks were +growing beautifully rosy. + +"Was it to protect yourself, or me?" said Mr. Linden watching her. +Faith's glance up and down, was inexpressibly pretty. + +"Myself, I think." + +"You have a strange power of exciting and keeping down my temper, at +one and the same time!" said Mr. Linden. "What did he dare say to you?" + +"Nothing about me. It was something--about you--which I did not choose +to have him say." + +Mr. Linden smiled, and called her a little crusader, but the grave look +came back. Dr. Harrison had known, then, just what ties he was trying +to break,--had felt sure--_must_ have felt sure--that they were bonds +of very deep love and confidence; and thereupon, had coolly set himself +to sow mistrust! Mr. Linden was very silent,--the keen words of +indignation that rose to his lips ever driven back and turned aside by +Faith's face, which told so plainly that she could bear no excitement. +He spoke at last with great deliberation. + +"You may as well shew it to all Pattaquasset, Mignonette!--for all +Pattaquasset shall know before I have been here much longer." + +"What?--why?" she said startling. + +"For what you will, love. I think you need the protection of my name." + +Faith could not deny it; howsoever she looked quaintly grave upon the +proposition. + +"Do you know how you will have to scour the country now, and make +yourself as much as possible like cowslips and buttercups and primroses +and mouse-ear?" said Mr. Linden smiling. "One day you may be a Spring +beauty, and the next Meadow-sweet, and when I see you a wild pink I +shall feel comparatively happy." + +Faith with a very little laugh remarked that she did not feel as if she +ever should be anything _wild_. + +"What is your definition of wild?" + +"Not tame." + +"Does that meek adjective express the kind of pink you intend to be?" + +"I didn't say what I should be--I only spoke of what I am." + +"Shall I tell you the future tense of this very indicative mood?" he +said touching her cheeks. + +"If you know it!" + +"If I know it!--You will be (some months later) a Linden +flower!--whether wild or tame remains to be been." + +Unless Linden flowers can be sometimes found a good deal +deeper-coloured than pinks, there was at least very little present +resemblance. The only notice Faith took of this prophecy was an +involuntary one. The door softly opened at this point, and Mrs. Derrick +came in to announce tea. She stood still a moment surveying them both. + +"How do you think she looks, Mr. Linden?" + +His eyes went back to Faith, giving a quick reply which he did not mean +they should. "She looks like a dear child--as she is, Mrs. Derrick. I +cannot say much more for her. But I shall take her down to tea." + +Mrs. Derrick went joyfully off for shawls and wrappers. Mr. Linden was +silent; his eyes had not stirred. But he amused himself with taking +some of the violets from the table near by and fastening them in her +belt and hair; the very touch of his fingers telling some things he did +not. + +"Sunbeam, do you feel as if you could bear transportation?" + +"Not as a sunbeam. I could walk down, I think," said Faith. Mr. Linden +remarked that the truth of that proposition would never be known; and +then she was muffled in a large soft shawl, and carried down stairs and +laid on the sofa in the sitting-room. The windows were open for the May +wind, but there was a dainty little fire still--everything looked +strangely familiar; even Mr. Linden; though his face wore not just its +most wonted expression. He had laid her down among the cushions and +loosened her wrapping shawl, and paid a little attention to the fire; +and now stood in Dr. Harrison's favourite place, looking at +her,--perhaps trying to see whether she looked more like herself down +stairs than she had done above. He could not find that she did. Faith +felt as if a great cloud had rolled over and rolled off from her; yet +in her very happiness she had a great desire to cry; her weakness of +body helped that. Her head lay still upon the cushions with fingers +pressed upon her brow. She hardly dared look at Mr. Linden; her eye +wandered over less dangerous things; yet it saw him not the less. How +sweetly the wind blew. + +Mr. Linden went off to the window and picked three or four of the May +roses that grew there, and then coming to sit down by Faith's sofa +softly pushed one of the buds in between her fingers, and made the rest +into a breast knot which he laid on the white folds of her dress. He +put other roses in her cheeks then, but it was all done with a curious +quietness that covered less quiet things. Faith took the flowers and +played with them, venturing scarce a look of answer. With the wasted +cheek, the delicate flush on it, and all the stirred fountain of +feeling which she was not so able as usual to control, Faith was very +lovely; to which effect the roses and violets scattered over her lent a +help of their own. Mr. Linden looked at her,--giving now and then a +little arranging touch to flowers or hair--with an unbending face, +which ended at last in a very full bright smile; though just why it +rouged her cheeks so instantly Faith did not feel quite sure. She felt +the rouge. + +"I am glad you feel like yourself again," she remarked. + +"How do you know that I do?" + +"I think you look so." + +"Quite a mistake. I am only bewitched. That is somewhat like myself, I +must own." + +Faith's face made a remonstrance, not at all calculated to be +successful. + +"Please don't bewitch me then!" said Mr. Linden answering the look. +"You know I cannot help it--and on the whole you don't wish I could. +What do you think of her now, Mrs. Derrick?" he added, getting up to +roll the tea-table close to the sofa. The folding of Mrs. Derrick's +hands was significant. + +"Yes, but you must not look at her _so_," said Mr. Linden demurely +arranging the table and sofa angles in harmonious relation. "You should +look with cool unconcern--as I do." + +"_You!_" said Mrs. Derrick. "Well I should like to see that for once." + +Faith laughed again, and was ready for her supper after a new fashion +from what she had known for many a day past. There is no doubt but +cresses and broiled pigeon were good that night! + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + + +What a twitter of birds was in Faith's ears as she awoke next morning! +Perhaps they were not really more noisy than usual, but she seemed to +hear them more; and then it was a soft balmy morning, with a joyous +spring sunshine and a dancing spring air, which gave full effect to all +the bird voices. Faith listened to the chorus, the choir, the concert, +the solos, with a charmed ear. The minute's hush; the low +twitter--answered softly from bush and tree; the soft chiming in of +other notes; the swelling, quickening, increasing song--till every +sparrow and kildeer in all Pattaquasset drew his bow and clattered his +castanets with the speed and the eagerness of twenty fiddlers. Only in +this orchestra the heads turned gracefully on swelling throats, and for +the angular play of elbows there was the lifting flutter of joyous +wings; and the audience of opening leaves "clapped their little hands" +for an encore. + +Such were the sounds that came to Faith from without;--within her room, +Mrs. Derrick moved silently about, lighting the fire, arranging the +window curtains, the table and couch, laying out Faith's dressing gown +to air, but not saying a word to her yet, lest she might be asleep. +Faith could see the relief and gladness in every step her mother +took--and well knew why. On the white spread before her lay a glowing +little bunch of spring flowers, the last night's dew yet hiding in the +depths of the violets, and sprinkling the leaves of the May roses, and +making the windflowers look at her with wet eyes. Faith grasped these +and held a considerably long conversation with them; then found it in +her heart to speak otherwise. + +"Mother," said she, with a little smile upon the contented languor of +convalescence,--"you feel better!" + +Mrs. Derrick came quick to her side, and kissed her and stroked her +face. "Pretty child," she said, "so do you." + +Which fact Faith confirmed by setting about the business of dressing +with more energy and good will than she had for many a day brought to +it. The pale cheeks were not quite so pale this morning. The white +dress was tied round the waist with _that_ blue ribband of long +ago--never yet spoiled with wearing; and in it the roses and violets +made a spot of warmer colour. When at last she was ready, and had +stepped out into the hall, Mr. Linden met her there as he had done the +night after the fire; and as then, stayed her for a minute and scanned +her face: with a different look from then, with a different sort of +gravity, which gladness did not quite cover up. He asked no questions +but with his eyes, and did not say much but with his lips; then carried +her down to the breakfast-room. + +"Mignonette," he said, "what time to-day will it please you to take a +drive?" + +The pleasure of the idea brought the colour to Faith's cheeks. "I +suppose I had better ask Dr. Harrison first whether I may go," she said +gravely. + +"Not at all. He has nothing whatever to say about it." + +"Then as soon as he is gone, I am ready." + +"We will not wait for him," said Mr. Linden. + +"But Endy, later will do just as well, won't it?" + +"No, love--not half so well." + +"Why?" + +"Principally, because I want you to be out when Dr. Harrison comes." +And quitting that subject, Mr. Linden wheeled her round to the nearer +consideration of biscuits and coffee; leaving Dr. Harrison, for the +time, quite out of sight. Out of his own sight, that is; for Faith +plainly did not forget him. She was a delicious thing to take care of +this morning; in that delicacy of bodily condition to which the strong +love to minister, and a tenderness of spirit which grew out of other +things and which to-day she had no force to hide. And there was an +apprehension which Mr. Linden could see behind her eyes every time they +came to his face. Faith was gathering her powers for a struggle. Yet +she had no mind to begin it, and waited after breakfast till Mr. Linden +should bring up the subject again. He seemed in no haste to bring it +up. For some reason or other, he was in a mood that could not do enough +for her. It was a mood Faith must try. + +As the morning had worn on and she saw some preliminary movement on Mr. +Linden's part, which looked like action, she put her hand in his and +lifted her eyes to his face, with a gentle plea in them, speaking in +musical softness. "Endy, will you let me wait till Dr. Harrison has +made his visit?" The little hand was clasped and held fast. + +"He would not wish to see you with me, Mignonette--and I certainly will +not let him see you without." + +"O why, Endy?" + +"Because--Mignonette I cannot tell you. Don't ask me." + +Faith flushed and looked troubled but somewhat timid too, and asked no +more. She puzzled over the subject. + +"Then, Endy, suppose we don't go out to drive to-day?" + +"Suppose we do. What are you rouging your cheeks for?" he added +smiling. "Faith, I know I have no legal right to control your +actions--and yet in this case you must let me say for you what I should +for my sister or my wife." + +How Faith wished to know why. The rouge grew bright; but forbidden to +ask, she dared not ask. "Would you care if we did not go out to-day?" +she said with some timid hesitation. + +"Very much." + +She was silenced. That Mr. Linden had some strong reason it was plain; +not the less the thought of Dr. Harrison grieved her. But she said +nothing. Nor did he, upon that subject,--threw it to the winds +apparently. The first move was to take her up stairs again and bestow +her daintily among cushions, then to sit by her and spice her cup of +chicken broth with pepper and talk, till both it and Faith were warm, +and Mrs. Derrick in a state of delight. The good, sweet effect of which +mode of treatment, was shewn in the way "the fringed curtains" of +Faith's eyes were by and by dropped by sleep herself. When she awoke +Mr. Linden was gone; and Mrs. Derrick sat there keeping watch. + +"Has the doctor been here, mother?" + +"Why child," said her mother, "he's slipped off Stranger, in some of +his capers, and hurt his ancle,--so Reuben says he won't come till +to-morrow. Shall I tell Mr. Linden he may come up?" + +"Yes." Faith felt it a relief. + +Mr. Linden came to tell her the carriage was ready. + +It seemed to Faith as if Jerry knew his old driver, with such good will +did he set forth, with such little snorts of high spirit and tossings +of head and mane. Down the old farm road, among fields of fresh grain +and fresh ploughing, where blue birds sat on the fences, and jocund +dandelions sunned themselves by the wayside. The breeze came fresh into +Faith's face, tossing back her hair; and presently with the scent of +buds and flowers and ploughed land came a mingling of the sea breeze, +for Mr. Linden was driving that way. He was right to make her +come!--Faith felt it in her heart, and so did he. There had been few +words spoken hitherto, but now he turned to her with a smile of great +satisfaction, saying, + +"Mignonette, this breeze is telling upon your cheeks." + +"It is going all through me!" said Faith, drawing an eager breath of +appreciation. Mr. Linden gave her shawls and cushions some arranging +touches, and to her a glad word or two of answer, then drove on down to +the shore. Not at their usual bathing and picnic place, but at the +further out Barley Point; where the breeze came in its full freshness +and the waves rolled in white-crested. There he made Jerry stand still +for a while, and made Faith lean upon him and so rest. + +They were somewhat elevated above the sea, where the barren face of the +land broke down suddenly some twenty feet. With what a sweet dash the +waves broke upon the beach, chasing up the wet sand and laying down a +little freight of seaweed here and there: how the water sparkled and +glittered, and was blue and white and green and neutral tint,--how the +gulls soared and stooped and flapped their wings in the gay breeze, +before which the white-winged vessels flew on a more steady course. +Jerry pawed the turf, and shook his head in approbation, and Faith's +head lay very still. Perhaps Mr. Linden thought she had done talking +enough that day, for he was rather silent; only watching her lest she +should be tired, or have too much of the air. What he watched her for +all the rest of the time, was best known to himself. Her brow had its +old quiet again now, though her face was grave beyond its old wont; and +the eyes, as he could see them, were softly grave and softly glad +together, intently going from the white-tipped water to the +white-winged gulls and the clouds grey and white that sailed above +them. Suddenly, after a long roaming over the fresh life that was +abroad there, the eyes were lifted to his face. + +"Endecott--if I don't say anything, it is because I can't say anything +good enough!" + +"Faith," he said with that same glad look at her, "your face says that +you are getting better every minute. Not tired yet?" + +"I feel as if I was in a grand dream." + +"Do you?" said Mr. Linden,--"I am glad I do not. It brings me out of a +dream to see you begin to look like yourself. I have not felt so real +before since I came home." + +"You are real enough," said Faith; "and so is everything else. It is +only my feeling that is dreamy. And this air will wake me up, if I stay +here a little while longer. How good it is!" + +"Do you see that dark rock out in the midst of the waves? and how the +waves half cover and then leave it bare?" + +"Yes." + +"I was thinking of what Rutherford says of the changing, swaying, +unsteady tide of life-joys and sorrows,--'Our rock doth not ebb and +flow, but our sea.'" + +Faith thought her own life had not been much like that changing tide; +then remembered his had, in nearer measure. The next question was not +far off; she put it, looking up anxiously and regretfully. "Endecott, +what are you working so hard for?" + +A very gay change of face answered her. + +"So hard as what?" + +"As you do." + +"What makes you think I am working 'so hard,' little Mignonette?--have +I given you that impression? I did not mean it. Do I look overworked?" + +"No--" said Faith--"I think not,--but that is not the thing. Why do +you, Endecott?" + +It was a very gently put question, but put with eyes and lips as well +as the sweet voice, dainty in its half timidity mixed with the +sweetness. Mr. Linden looked down at her till the question was +finished, but then he looked off at the dancing water; the smile which +had been dawning upon his lips breaking out into very full sunshine. It +was a strange smile--very enjoying and yet a little moved. + +"Mignonette," he said looking down at her again, "do you know what a +dear little child you are?" + +Her eyes wavered, then faced him again with a sort of smiling gravity, +as not relinquishing their answer. + +"You will be dreadfully shocked if I tell you." + +"Shall I?"--she said, not believing him. + +"Yes. But what do you suppose I am doing?--what has put all this into +your head?" + +"I heard it," said Faith. + +"From whom?" + +"I don't know. But somebody that wondered what you were doing it for." + +"Most enigmatical information! What 'it' did somebody say I was doing?" + +"Working hard--giving lessons," said Faith dropping her voice. + +"Well--what else was I doing when I was here? _That_ should not shock +you, dear child." + +"You were _not_ doing anything else when you were here--that is the +very thing, Endecott." + +"Mignonette--I have done nothing to hurt myself, as you may see. I am +very strong to work." + +She gave a little grave glance at him, grave with a background of +regretfulness, and placed herself back in her former position; pushing +her questions no further. But Mr. Linden did not look grave. + +"I am quite willing to tell you all about my work," he said,--"that I +did not long ago was for two or three reasons which you will +understand. I told you once, dear Faith--upon a night which I shall +never forget--that I had means enough to carry me through my studies; +but two things made me take measures to earn a good deal more. One was, +that I would always rather work than not to have what I want to spend +in various good and pleasant ways." + +"Yes--?" she said a little eagerly. He looked at her with that same +smile coming over his face. + +"It will shock you," he said,--"however--The other reason was this. We +agreed how I should choose between two gardens wherein to place my +Mignonette. But it may chance that for even the offer of one I shall +have to wait--and for Mignonette I cannot. Voyez-vous, Mademoiselle?" + +Yes, plainly enough; as he could tell by the bright flush which mounted +up to her forehead and made her a Rhodora again. And doubtless Faith +would have said several things, only--she could _not!_ and so sat like +the stillest of scared mice; with no more words at command. Mr. Linden +laughed telling her he thought there was no hope of benefitting her +cheeks any further that day, and that to judge by her eyelids sleep +would be the next thing; and so turned the little carriage round and +Jerry's head towards home. + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + + +Dinner was ready when they reached home, so that Faith was taken at +once to the table; and when dinner was over, up stairs to go to sleep. +And sleep held her well nigh all the afternoon. The sunbeams were long, +the light of day was growing gentle, when Faith at last awoke and +arose, with a tinge in her cheeks and a face getting to be itself +again. She put her hair and her dress in fresh order, and went softly +about doing the same office for several things in the room; thinking +all the while what Mr. Linden had been working for, and how shut her +mouth was from saying anything about it. + +"Where is Mr. Linden, mother?" + +"Down stairs." + +"I am going down too. I am quite well enough without being carried. +Come, mother." + +"He won't like it, child,--you'd better let me call him." + +"No indeed," said Faith. "I'll just take your arm, mother. It will do +me good." + +So softly and with a little wilful pleasure on Faith's part, the stairs +were descended; and not content with that, Faith went into the tea-room +and began as of old to give a delicate hand to the tea-table +arrangements. Then when all was done, slowly made her entrance into the +other room. But there, to Faith's dismay, were two gentlemen instead of +one, standing in the middle of the floor in earnest conversation. Both +turned the minute she opened the door, and Squire Stoutenburgh came +towards her, exclaiming, "Why Miss Faith!--nobody gave me any hope of +seeing you. My dear, are you as well as you look?" + +Faith's instant extreme desire was to quit the field she had so rashly +ventured upon. Her answer to Mr. Stoutenburgh, if made, was too +unintelligible to be understood or remembered; and meanwhile she was as +the Squire had hinted, looking very well, and a picture of dainty +confusion. It might not help the confusion, though it did put her face +more out of sight, to be rescued from the Squire's hands and placed in +the easy-chair. + +"No, she is not as well as she looks, Mr. Stoutenburgh, and therefore +you must not keep her standing." + +"I won't keep her--nor you neither--long," said the Squire. "Miss +Faith, I hope you'll keep _him_--standing or kneeling or something--all +summer. How long are you going to stay, sure enough?" + +"Till I must go." Faith heard the smile with which it was spoken. + +"Then I shall go home a happy man!" said Mr. Stoutenburgh, with a sort +of earnest heartiness which became him very well. "My dear, I'm as glad +as if you were my own daughter--and you'll let me say that, because +your father and I were such friends." With which original and sincere +expression of feeling the Squire went off. + +"You naughty child," Mr. Linden said, coming back to Faith's chair, +"who gave you leave to come down stairs? I shouldn't be at all +surprised if you had been after cream." + +"No I haven't, Endy,"--said Faith lifting up her face which was in a +sort of overwhelmed state. + +"What is the matter?" he said smiling. + +"Don't mind me," said Faith passing her hands over her face. "I am half +ashamed of myself--I shall be better in a day or two." + +"How do you feel, after your ride and your sleep?" + +"O well!--nicely,"--she said in happy accents. + +"What made you try to walk down stairs?" + +"I thought I could do it." + +"And knew I would not let you. Will you be in a talking mood after tea?" + +"I am now. I have been wanting to talk to you, Endecott, ever since you +got home." + +"What about?" + +"About these weeks." + +The summons to tea came then, however; but when tea was disposed of, +and Faith had come back to her sofa in the sitting-room, Mr. Linden +took his place at her side. + +"Now I am ready for 'these weeks,'" he said. + +Faith was less ready than he, though she had wished for the talk. Her +face darkened to something of the weary look with which he had found +her. + +"Endecott, I have wanted to see you dreadfully!" He looked pained--not +merely, she knew, because of that: but the thought had no further +expression. + +"What has been the matter, my dear child?" + +Faith's hand and head went down on his shoulder, as on a rest they had +long coveted. "I am afraid you will be ashamed of me, Endecott,--but I +will tell you. You know since I have been sick I have seen a great deal +of Dr. Harrison--every day, and twice a day. I couldn't help it." + +"No." + +"And Endy,--he used to talk to me." + +"Yes,"--the word was short and grave. + +"I don't know why he did it; and I did not like it, and I could not +help it. He would talk to me about Bible things." + +"Well?--He used to do that long ago." + +"And long ago you told me not to let him talk to me of his doubts and +false opinions. Endecott, I didn't forget that--I remembered it all the +while,--and yet he _did_ talk to me of those things, and I could not +tell how to hinder it. And then, Endecott--the things were in my +head--and I could not get them out!"--The manner of Faith's slow words +told of a great deal of heart-work. + +Mr. Linden did not start--but Faith felt the thrill which passed over +him, even to the fingers that held hers. Clearly _this_ was not what he +expected. + +"Faith,"--he said,--"has he touched _your_ faith?" + +Faith's head drew nearer to his, with a manner half caressing, half +shrinking, but the answer was a low, "No--never." + +"Child!" he said with a sort of deep terror in his voice,--"I think I +could not have borne that. I would rather he had won away your heart +from me!" + +Faith did not move, and seemed to herself scarce to breathe, such a +spasm of various feelings was upon her heart. "It did not, Endy,"--she +whispered. + +He stooped to kiss her, as if that was the only answer he could give +just then; merely saying, "Tell me all about it." + +"I don't know how he did it"--Faith went on hesitatingly, as if the +words were not easy to her;--"and always before I knew it was coming, +it was said,--something that troubled me; almost every time he came. I +don't know whether it troubled him too, or whether--But no matter what +it was said for! He would tell me of some question that had occurred to +him, or some difficulty that he could not understand; or else it was a +contrary fact that somebody else had stated, or a cunning explanation +that somebody had found out, or a discovery that was against the truth, +or some train of consequences and inferences that would undermine it. +And these things were always so curiously put, that though I knew they +were false, Endy--I never doubted that--I knew they were not the +truth;--yet I could not shew him that they were not; and that hurt me. +It pained me by day and by night;--but that was not all." Faith +hesitated. "These things never did touch my faith, Endecott--but it +seems to me now as if they had shut it up in a fortress and besieged +it. I hadn't a bit of comfort of it except by snatches--only I knew it +was there--for ever so long. When I tried to read the Bible, often I +could think of nothing but these thoughts would push themselves in +between--like a swarm of gnats humming in my ears;--and often I had no +good of prayer,"--she added in a yet lower voice. + +"Have you now?" Mr. Linden said. "Has that passed away?" + +She hesitated again, perhaps struggling with some emotion which she +would not let get the better of her. Her words were quiet. "It is +passing. Earth and sky are all cleared since you came--as I knew they +would be." + +Mr. Linden was silent and motionless,--looking down at her, curbing as +he best might the grief and indignation which were by turns as much as +he could manage. He did not speak for some time. + +"I think, Endy," said Faith, "I shouldn't have felt so if I had been +well and strong. I am almost sure it was partly that. I wasn't strong +in mind or body--and how I wanted you!" + +"And where _was_ my place in the world if not here!" + +"I didn't want you till you came," she said in a very sweet low tone. + +"Ah, child! you do not know what you are talking of,--nor what a snare +was spread for you." + +"Do you think that, Endy?" she said in a scared way. + +"What else?" + +"But he always seemed--I always hoped, he was really interested in +those things himself." + +"No man carries truth in one hand and falsehood in the other," said Mr. +Linden sternly. + +Faith was sitting upright, looking very thoughtful and very grieved. +"But you do not think, Endecott,--you do not think--there was no truth +in it?" + +His face caught her grieved look,--he answered slowly, "Child, you must +leave all that. I only know that he tried to get rid of every barrier +in his way." + +"And how in this, Endecott?--What?" + +"He doubtless thought your belief stood between him and your favour." + +"And that if he could change that!"--Faith's head sank with a low word +of pain. Mr. Linden was silent. She looked up again, with a face of +yearning sorrow which it was a pity perhaps Dr. Harrison could not see. +"And now," she said, "we never can do anything more for him!" + +But Mr. Linden was not ready for the wish,--the sternness of his face +did not relax this time even under the power of hers. Until as he +looked, with the sight of all her loveliness and the thought of all the +wrong done her, came the keen realization of why it had been +done;--then his look changed and saddened. + +"Endecott," she said after a while, humbly, "do you think any one who +loves Christ could be brought to disbelieve him?" + +"No--not really and permanently. The promise says, 'Because he hath set +his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him.'" + +"Then what did you fear so much for me, Endy?" + +She had cause for the question; he had spoken and looked and listened +with that intentness of sense which shews some hidden +anxiety,--measuring jealously every look and word of hers by some old +well-remembered standard. + +"You remember, dear Faith," he said, "that when the thieves set upon +one of the pilgrims, though he made out to keep his jewels yet they +took from him all his spending money; and in the want of that he went +to the end of his life." + +But the smile that answered him was an answering smile. Though there +was sorrow in it, and humbleness, and even fear, its fullest burdens +were the free guaranty that she was not hurt, and an untold wealth of +affection, that almost breathed out of the moving and parted lips. +"Endy,--it was only a cloud--I knew at the time it would scatter away +just as soon as you came. I knew it was a cloud, but I wasn't well." + +Mr. Linden lifted her face, gazing at it intently. "My little +Mignonette," he said, "are you sure that you 'hold fast the beginning +of your confidence?' Are you sure he has not dimmed the light that used +to shine so bright in your heart?--that he has not made heaven seem +less real, nor the promises of less effect? Are you sure, Faith?--If he +has, find it out now!" + +She had never seen him look so--never heard him speak with such +earnestness. The words seemed to come from the very depths of his +heart; freighted not only with their own moment, but with the pain +which the raising such questions had stirred in him. Faith knew little +of even the pictures of angels--if she had she might have thought of +one then. Her child nature would have thrown itself into his arms to +give the answer; as it was, the woman drew a little back and spoke with +veiled eyes. + +"If he has, I don't know it, Endecott. It was a cloud that hindered all +enjoyment from me,--I knew at the time it was no more. It is gone, or +almost. It was wrong to be on me at all--but I was weak and not well." +Her speech was very humble, and the innocent trembling of the lips was +as one might answer an angel. + +His eyes changed as she spoke, watching her still, but less clearly; +and bringing her where she had not dared to place herself, Mr. Linden +kissed her again and again--as one rejoices over what has been lost or +in deadly peril. Not many words--and those low and half uttered, of +deep thanksgiving, of untold tenderness. But Faith hid her face in her +hands, and though she did not shed any tears, shook and trembled. + +"This will not do, for you nor for me," said Mr. Linden. +"Mignonette--have my words grieved you? they need not--there was not a +breath in them harsher than a summer wind." + +"I didn't think it, Endy." + +"What are you thinking of, my child?" + +"Nothing--Never mind me,--" she said deprecatingly. + +"Tell me, Faith," he repeated. + +But she did not. The quivering emotion passed away or was overcome; and +then her answer was a very grave and sweet look and smile; still such a +one as might without any force have been given to an angel. + +"Faith, what will make you speak?--this?--Tell me what you were +trembling about--I shall begin to think you have grown afraid of me." + +"I don't think I have,--" she said very quietly. + +"You are a sort of willowbranch,--so very pliant that you glide out of +reach on the very breath that comes after you. Now I think the very +profound confidence I reposed in you this morning, deserves some +return. I'm afraid I cannot ask for it with such persuasive eyes." + +"It's no confidence--" said Faith. "I didn't know I had been in such +danger; and"--she spoke with some difficulty--"I didn't know what it +would be to offend you." + +"Did you think you could?" + +"If I did wrong--?" + +"Faith," he said, "do you know what I should expect 'if I did wrong,' +as you say?--that you would break your heart, perhaps, but never that +you would be offended. I should expect to find you more than ever my +sweet ministering spirit." + +A look of intense grave earnestness followed and echoed his thought +with one or two of her own; then her gravity broke in a radiant little +smile. "I am not exactly like you, Endecott," she said. + +"What is the precise bearing of that remark?" + +"You might be offended--where I should have no right,--" she said with +slow utterance and consideration of her words. + +"But _why_--little Arabic poem?" + +The colour started into Faith's cheeks, but she answered. "You are +better than I,--and besides,--you know, Endy!--it would be right for +you to do what it wouldn't be right for me to do." Her colour deepened +to brightness and her eyes were very cast down. Mr. Linden looked at +her--smiling a grave sweet smile. + +"Faith," he said, "I have heard--or imagined--that a man might have an +angel for his wife, but I never heard yet of a woman who had an angel +for her husband--did you?" + +Faith endeavoured to shield her eyes and cheek with a very insufficient +hand. "You put me in the witness-box,--what can I do?" she said. + +"You can do one thing as well as anybody I ever saw," Mr. Linden said, +taking her hand down. "Faith, where did you get such pink cheeks?" + +"What is an Arabic poem?" said Faith gravely. + +"A pretty thing that requires translating. Faith, I have a great desire +to take you all about Pattaquasset and tell everybody what you are to +be." + +"Endecott!"--said Faith with a startled glance. + +"What?" he answered laughing. + +"Why do you say so?" + +"Just imagine the delight of all Quapaw, and the full satisfaction of +the Roscoms. Shouldn't you like to see it?" + +Faith looked at him in a sort of frightened mood of mind, discerning +some earnest in the play. Mr. Linden's face did not reassure her, +though he carried the play at that time no further. + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + + +If the fears of the night before had not quite been slept off, if the +alarming ideas had not all been left in dreamland, still it was hard +for anything but peace and pleasure to shew its head that morning. In +at Faith's window came the sunbeams, the tiny panes of glass shewed +each a patch of the bluest sky, and through some unseen open sash the +morning air swept in full sweetness. When Faith opened her own window, +the twitter and song of all manner of birds was something to hear, and +their quick motions were something to see. From the sweetbriar on the +house to the trees in the orchard,--from the mud nest under the eaves +to the hole in the barn wall,--what darting and skimming and +fluttering! Off in the orchard the apple trees were softly putting on +their nonpareil dress of blossoms, feeding the air with nectar till it +was half intoxicated; and down in the garden a little bevy of bells +stood prim and soft and sweet, ringing their noiseless spring chimes +under Faith's window. + +Under her window too, that is within close sight of it, stood Reuben +Taylor and Mr. Linden. Not watching for her just then as it appeared, +but intent upon their own concerns. Or rather, Reuben--in his usual +dark, neat dress and straw hat, with hands neither busy nor at rest, +but waiting and ready--was intent upon Mr. Linden--and Mr. Linden upon +his work. His hat was off, on the grass beside him, and he +himself--half sitting half leaning upon an old crooked apple tree, had +his hands full of cowslips--though what he was doing with them Faith +could not tell. Only from a fluttering end of blue ribband that +appeared, she could guess their destination. The two friends were +talking busily and merrily, with little cowslip interludes, and the +yellow blossoms sprinkled the grass all about the tree, some having +dropped down, others been tossed off as not worthy a place in the ball. +For that was the work in Mr. Linden's hands--something which Faith had +never seen. + +It was so very pretty a picture that Faith sat down to look at it, and +thoughtless of being found out, looked on in a dream. Mr. Linden's +threats of yesterday did come back to her shrinkingly, but she threw +them off; the time was too happy to bear the shadow of anything +weightier than apple blossoms. Faith looked out through them +admiringly, marvelling anew how Mr. Linden had ever come to like her; +and while her soft eyes were studying him, her heart made many a vow +before the time. She only felt the birds fly past; her mind was taking +strange glimpses into the future. + +Stepping jauntily out from the house, Sam Stoutenburgh came next upon +the scene, the springtime of his man's attire suiting well enough with +his years but not so well with his surroundings; too desperately smart +for the cowslips, bright and shining as they were there in the sun, too +_new_ for the tulips--though they had been out of the ground but a few +days. For + + In a little bit of garden ground + Where many a lovely plant was found, + Stood a tulip in gay attire! + His pantaloons green as ever were seen, + His cap was as red as fire. + + +But the tulip was at least used to his cap--which was more than could +be said of Sam and his hat. + +"Mrs. Derrick told me to come out here and find you, sir," he said. +"But what _are_ you doing, Mr. Linden?" + +"I am making a ball." + +"A ball!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Linden,--"gratifying one of my youthful tastes. Sam, +I'll lend you my hat." + +"Why! what for, sir?" said Sam, a little confused and a good deal +puzzled, while Reuben smiled. + +"Just to save you from the headache while you stand there in the sun," +said Mr. Linden, tying the ends of his ribband together. "It's a man's +hat, Sam--you need not be afraid of it. That's a good lesson in +whistling!" he said, looking up into the tree over his head, where a +robin had just come to exercise his powers. But as Mr. Linden's eyes +came back from the robin they caught sight of Faith at her window, and +instantly he was on his feet and made her a most graceful and low +reverence. Instinctively the two boys turned and followed suit--the one +with his straw hat the other with his beaver. + +Faith's contemplative quiet was broken up, and her face grew shy and +flushed as she gave her tiny grave signs of recognition; but a soft +"good morning" floated down to them, followed--nobody knows why--by a +more particular "Good morning, Sam." + +"Miss Faith!" said Sam affectingly, "are you always going to stay up +stairs?" + +"No--I am coming down presently. You are early to-day, Sam." + +"Not earlier than I've been some other days, Miss Faith." + +Faith nodded at him and left the window; threw round her the light +shawl which she was expected to wear because she had been sick, rather +than because the May air called for it, and prepared to go down. But in +the second of time which all this took, she heard her name called from +the orchard--not very loud but very distinct. + +"Faith!" + +She knew who called, and it was with a little startled thrill that she +presented herself at the window to answer the summons. Mr. Linden stood +close beneath it. + +"Can you catch this?" he said, looking up at her with laughing eyes. +And the soft cowslip ball came whirling up to bury its golden head in +her hands. If Faith saw anything else, it was the very evident +astonishment of one of the standers-by. But nevertheless she bravely +put her bright blushing face out again. + +"Thank you, Mr. Linden," she said. "It's too pretty to be thrown more +than once." + +"Are you ready to come yourself?" + +"Yes, I'm coming." + +He bowed and turned away, passing on into the house with so quick a +step that he was at the head of the stairs as soon as she was. + +"You are not going to carry me down to-day!"--said Faith starting back. +"I can walk down as well as you can--or at least I can as well walk +down." + +"There is no one in the parlour, Mignonette." + +"Then I'll not go there," said Faith smiling. + +"I'll take you to the garden, if you prefer it. Is the supposed fact of +your being able to walk down stairs any reason why you should not bid +me good morning?" + +There was neither that nor any other existing reason, to judge by the +quiet grace with which Faith drew near to give the required good +morning, or rather to permit Mr. Linden to take it; and then placed her +hand in his, as willing to have so much aid from him as that could +give. He held it fast, and her too, for a minute, while his other hand +busied itself with fastening in her belt a dewy, sweet, sonsie looking +little sprig of May roses. + +"How do you feel this morning?" he said when he was gravely considering +the effect. + +"Very much like Spring!"--Faith looked so, with her other hand full of +primroses. + +"And otherwise?" + +"I don't feel otherwise!" said Faith laughing; the first really free +merry look of laughter he had seen on her face since he came home. + +"You are the sweetest of all spring blossoms," Mr. Linden said, +carrying her off with perfect disregard of the supposed fact of her +being able to walk. At the foot of the stairs, however, she was +permitted to find her feet again. "Where will you go, dear child?--the +orchard is very wet, but you may venture as far as the door." + +"No, I have something to do," said Faith. + +"What have you to do?" + +"What I used to take care of--part of it. I'm so glad to do it again." + +"Not to-day--you ought not!--nor to-morrow. You must come in here and +sit quiet till breakfast, and for a few days more be content to be +'Love in idleness' as well as Mignonette. Will you promise?" he said, +seating her in the easy-chair, with open window, and breakfast table, +and a gay little fire to make the captivity pleasant. + +"But I like work, Endy--and a little won't hurt me. Those boys want +you--and I'll make the coffee." + +"Do you know, Mignonette, how pale you would be if I were away?" + +She shook her head. + +"I do," said Mr. Linden,--"and as I am in a mood for roses this +morning, I want you to let me bring 'those boys' in here--then they can +see me and I can see you." + +The roses came, started and brightened, and her eyes looked a soft +protest; but it was a minority protest and gave way, and her face after +all told him he might do what he liked. He gave her a reassuring smile, +and went back to the orchard, presently returning with Reuben and +Sam,--the one wearing a face of unqualified pleasure, the other of +almost as unqualified shyness. Sam was not quite sure that his ears had +reported correctly, but the doubt and the new idea were enough to +discompose him thoroughly. He listened eagerly to the answers Reuben's +words called forth, but seemed afraid to venture many himself. As for +Mr. Linden, he was combining another handful of flowers--covering his +amusement with very grave composure. + +It was not bad amusement; for the exquisite simplicity in Faith's +manner, with the contrast of the coming and going colour and the shy +eyelashes, made a picture that any one claiming interest in it would +have been a little proud of. And the roses in her belt and the cowslips +in her hand and the delicate lines of her face which health had not yet +rounded out again, all joined to make the vision a very fair one. She +was most shy of Sam, and did not look at Mr. Linden. + +"I haven't thanked you for your pigeons, Sam," she said, after a few +lively words with Reuben. + +"No, Miss Faith, please don't!" was the gallant rejoinder. + +"Weren't they worth thanks?" inquired Mr. Linden. + +"I thought they were, when I was eating them; and mother said they were +the best I had. Don't you like to be thanked, Sam?" + +"When it's worth while," said Sam. "But you know, ma'am--You know, Mr. +Linden, it's thanks enough to do anything for Miss Faith." + +"I know that very well." Quiet as the words were they brought all Sam's +ideas to the ground like his own pigeons. + +"Where are you now in college, Sam?" Faith went on perhaps because she +felt herself a coward. + +Sam made answer, in a more subdued state of mind than was usual when he +announced his Sophomorical distinctions. + +"What are you going to do when you come out?" + +"O I don't know, Miss Faith,--father says I can do just what I like." + +"And you don't know what that will be, Sam?" + +"No--" said Sam. "I can't even guess." + +"A man who can do what he likes ought to do a great deal," said Mr. +Linden. "Reuben, will you take the upper road home, and give these +flowers to Ency Stephens for Miss Faith?" + +"O yes, sir!" Reuben said. + +"No, Reuben! I didn't send them," said Faith eagerly. + +"Tell her," said Mr. Linden smiling, "that they came from Miss Faith's +garden, and that I shall bring Miss Faith herself to see her, just so +soon as she can bear such a long drive." The bunch of flowers was laid +lightly on her hands for her disposal. "Now I must send you two +collegians--present and future--away, for you have had your breakfast +and we have not had ours." + +At which remark Sam took Faith's hand with a bow of great perplexity +and reverence, and Reuben drew near and waited for the flowers. + +"Give them to her from Mr. Linden," said Faith, rosy red, as she put +them in his keeping;--"she will like that best, Reuben." + +Reuben thought he knew how to combine the two messages, and the boys +went off just as the coffee-pot came in. + +"Faith," said Mr. Linden coming back to sit down by her, "here is a +rosebud so much like you that I think I ought to wear it. What do you +consider the most appropriate way?" + +"How do gentlemen wear flowers?--You'll have to stick it in a +buttonhole," said Faith half grave and half laughing,--"if it must be +worn." + +"But that is to treat it as a common flower!" + +"You'll have to treat it so," said Faith glancing from the rosebud to +him. + +"Look at it," said Mr. Linden,--"do you see how very lovely it is?" + +She did look at it, more closely, and then at him with an appeal of +grave remonstrance, deep though unspoken. But it was met defiantly. + +"If I am to wear this, Mignonette, you must put it in place." + +Faith was a little shy of even doing so much, and besides was aware +that her mother as well as the coffee-pot had come upon the scene. +However she took the flower and succeeded in attaching it securely +where she thought it ought to go, on the breast of Mr. Linden's +waistcoat; by which time the resemblance between the two rosebuds was +perfect, and striking; and Faith drew back to her breakfast, glad to +have everybody's attention diverted to coffee, which she declared was +good with cowslips. It may be said that the diversion was not +immediate; for though her chair was at once wheeled round to the table, +yet Faith had to take her thanks then and there--in full defiance of +Mrs Derrick's presence. After that, however, Mr. Linden--to do him +justice--did change the subject. + +Cowslips and coffee went on well till near the end of breakfast, which +to say truth had been rather prolonged as well as delayed; and then +there came a front door knock. It was of no use for Faith to start, for +breakfast was not absolutely finished; and the next minute who should +come in from the hall but Miss Essie de Staff. As fresh as possible, in +white dress and black silk apron; her black hair from which she had +drawn off the sunbonnet, in shining order; the black eyes as well! +Perhaps they dilated on first seeing the party; more sparkling they +could not be. She advanced at a moderate pace towards the table, +looking and speaking. + +"Mrs. Derrick!--I didn't know you were such late people. I have come to +run away with your daughter, and thought I should find the coast clear. +Mr. Linden! I didn't know Pattaquasset was so happy as to have you +back, sir." + +"We have breakfast late for Faith's sake," said Mrs. Derrick, while Mr. +Linden rose and gave the lady first his hand and then a chair, +remarking that the happiness of Pattaquasset was pleasant news to him +too. + +"But Faith's well again, isn't she?" said Miss Essie, waiting to get +breath, mentally. + +"She's better," said Mrs. Derrick. + +"She goes out?" + +"She has been once." + +"Is that all? Well it will do her good to go again. Sophy Harrison and +I made up our minds that she and I and Faith would spend the day +together--and so I've come to fetch her. Do you believe in the +possibility of ladies falling in love with ladies, Mr. Linden?" + +"I have more knowledge of gentlemen's possibilities. Who is supposed to +be in danger, Miss Essie?" + +"Faith cannot go out to spend the day," said Mrs. Derrick decidedly. + +"Is it _danger?_" said Miss Essie. "Mrs. Derrick, why can't Faith go +with me? Faith, won't you go?"--She had come up close to the table and +stood by Faith's side, whom her eyes were now reading, or at least +endeavouring to spell out. + +"Not to-day, Miss Essie, thank you." + +"Thank me? you ought to apologize to me." Miss Essie took a chair in +that place, where she could "rake" the whole table. "Here will be Sophy +and me horribly disappointed. We had counted on you. Sophy is all +alone. You know, Faith, the doctor is laid up?" + +"We heard of it,"--Faith answered, not very easily. + +"Well, do you know he says he is going South?" + +"I heard so," said Faith. Miss Essie could not make much of the rising +colour in her cheeks, it came and went so easily! + +"What takes him off just now in such haste?--business?" + +Faith looked up and gave her inquisitor a full clear look, such as +curiosity never cares for, while she answered with quiet dignity, "He +did not tell me, Miss Essie." + +"It's a pity Dr. Harrison's just going now that you're just come," said +the lady of the black eyes, shifting her ground. "You used to be such +friends." + +"What is a friend?" said Mr. Linden--"By the way, Miss Essie, you +should make these cresses an excuse for at least eating salt with us, +and so prove your title to the name." + +"Dear me!" said the lady taking a handful,--"I thought a friend was +something more--more etherial than that!" + +"Than what, if you please?" + +"A person who eats your salt!--I don't love cresses. I am not one of +Nebuchadnezzar's family. Where did you get the fashion? It's French. +Dr. Harrison eats them. Did he teach it to you, Faith?" + +"I think I had that honour," said Mr. Linden. + +"I dare say you gave more lessons than were given in school," said Miss +Essie significantly. "What else did you learn of him, Faith?" + +Faith gave the lady only a glance of her soft eye, but her face and her +very throat were charged with varying colour. Her attention went from +cresses to cowslips. + +"I am saucy!" said the lady.--"Mr. Linden, are you coming back to the +bona fide school here? there'll be a great many glad." + +A very involuntary lesson to Miss Essie herself came longingly to Mr. +Linden's lips, but except from the slight play and compression of the +same she had not the benefit of it. He spoke as usual. + +"She has never learned the art of self-defence, Miss Essie, therefore I +pray you attack me. No, I am not coming back to the school--and to say +truth, I think there would be some people sorry--as well as glad--if I +did." + +"Your bad scholars?"--said the lady, not intent upon her question. + +"No--my good friends." + +"_I_ should be glad," said Miss Essie. "Who are your friends that would +be sorry? Dr. Harrison, for instance?" + +"The friends who like my present work better." + +"And you are going to be a clergyman?" said Miss Essie, leaning her +elbow on the table and 'studying' Mr. Linden, perhaps some other things +too, with her eyes. He smiled under the scrutiny, but merely bowed to +her question. + +"It's dreadful hard work!--" said Miss Essie. + +"Dreadful?--Miss Essie, you have not studied the subject." + +"No," said she laughing,--"I said 'dreadful _hard_.' And so it is, I +think." + +"'There be some sports are painful, but their labour delight in them +sets off'--is not that equally true of some work?" said Mr. Linden, +making one or two quiet additions to the breakfast on Faith's plate. +Which means of assistance Faith inadvertently disregarded and pushed +her plate away. + +"Do you suppose anybody delights in them?" said Miss Essie. "I can't +understand it--but perhaps they do. A minister is very much looked up +to. But one thing is certain--of all things the hardest, it is to be a +minister's wife!" + +"Of _all_ things! He must be a poor sort of a minister who lets his +wife have a harder life than his own." + +"He can't help it--" said Miss Essie, walking her black eyes about. "Of +course he don't wish it--but women always do have a harder time than +men, and a minister's wife particularly." + +"It's a comfort to think he don't wish it," said Mr. Linden with a sort +of resigned gravity. + +"Well it would not be much comfort to me," said Miss Essie. "When a +woman marries, she naturally expects her husband to belong to her;--but +a minister belongs to everybody else!" + +"I see I have not studied the subject," said Mr. Linden. "Miss Essie, +you are giving me most important information. Is this so inevitable +that I ought in conscience to warn the lady beforehand?" + +Miss Essie smiled graciously. "It would be no use,--she wouldn't +believe you. _I_ might warn her. I have seen it." + +"What have you seen?" + +"Why that!--that a woman who marries a minister needn't expect to have +any more of her husband than his clothes to mend." + +"Melancholy statement!" said Mr. Linden. + +"It's of no use to tell it to a man!" said Miss Essie. "But I have seen +it." + +"Not in my house." + +"I shall see it in your house, if you ever let me in there--but it will +be too late to warn then. Very likely _you_ will not see it." + +Faith sat with one hand shielding her face from this speaker, though by +that means it was more fully revealed to the other. Her other hand, and +her eyes as far as possible, were lost in the bunch of cowslips; her +colour had long ceased to be varying. She sat still as a mouse. + +"No, I shall not see it. To what end would your warnings be directed, +if they could reach her in time?" + +"To keep her from taking such a trying position." + +"Oh--" said Mr. Linden. "Have you no feeling for me, Miss Essie? It is +very plain why you scrupled to eat salt with me this morning!" + +"I'll eat salt with you as a single man," said Miss Essie,--"but if you +are going to be a minister, be generous, and let your wife go! Any +other woman will tell you so." + +"Let her go where? With me?--that is just what I intend." + +"Yes," said Miss Essie,--"and then--you'll never know it--but she will +sit alone up stairs and sew while you are writing your sermons, and +she'll sit down stairs and sew while you're riding about the country or +walking about the town; and she'll go out alone of your errands when +you have a cold that keeps you at home; and the only time she hears you +speak will be when you speak in the pulpit! And if you ask her whether +she is happy, she will say yes!--" + +Despite all her desperate contusion, the one visible corner of Faith's +mouth shewed rebellion against order. Mr. Linden laughed with most +unterrified amusement. + +"If she says that, it will be so, Miss Essie--my wife will be a most +uncompromising truth-teller. But in your picture _I_ am the one to be +pitied. Will she never sit on the same floor with me under _any_ +circumstances?" + +"More than you deserve!" said Miss Essie. "You to be pitied, indeed! +You know the man has the stir, and the talk, and the going from place +to place, and the being looked up to, and the having everybody at his +feet; and what has she?" + +Mr. Linden did not answer, even with his eyes, which were looking down; +and the smile which came at Miss Essie's last words, was clearly not +meant for her. His wife would have something--so it said and +asserted,--and his wife was not an indefinite, imaginary person,--it +said that too. And she was worth all that could be laid at her feet. +How much he had to lay there--what homage _his_ homage was--even of +this the face gave unconscious token. Miss Essie looked, and read it or +at least felt it, much more than she could well have put into words. +Then taking in review Faith's bowed head, she turned and spoke in quite +a different tone. + +"There is no use in talking to people, Mrs. Derrick. After all, mayn't +I have Faith?" + +"To spend the day? Oh no, Miss Essie!--she's not strong enough," said +Mrs. Derrick, rising from the table and beginning to put the cups +together. Faith left the party and went to the fire, which in the +advanced state of the May morning needed no tending. + +"Yet she must spend the day somewhere," said Miss Essie wheeling round. +"Faith!--what are you going to do with yourself?" + +"Nothing, Miss Essie,"--came softly from the fire-mender. But as her +hand moved to and fro with the tongs, the sparkle of the diamonds +caught Miss Essie's eye. + +"Child!--how did you get that?"--she exclaimed, springing to her side +and arresting the tongs. Faith's low "I don't know, ma'am"--was +inimitable. It was well neither lady had sight of Mr. Linden's face. + +"It's very beautiful!" said Miss Essie, controlling herself into some +order, and poring over the little hand she had made captive. "I never +saw a greater beauty of a ring--never. Do you know what it means, +Faith?" She dropped her voice and tapped significantly the finger. + +Faith answered like a person put to the question,--"Yes." + +"Do you?" said Miss Essie in the same low aside and half laughing. "I +am so glad. I always thought it. But this is splendid, Faith. _You_ +don't know how handsome it is. It is easy to know where this came from. +I needn't ask." + +"I must ask you both to sit down," said Mr. Linden,--"Faith is not +strong enough for much standing, Miss Essie." + +"I can't sit down--I'm going away," said the lady. "I'll tell Sophy she +may expect you the first day you can go out for so long,"--she went on +renewing her half whisper to Faith. "Does she know of this?"--touching +the diamonds which Miss Essie had not yet let go. + +"No, Miss Essie--" Faith stood in great confusion. Mr. Linden left the +table, and gently disengaging her from Miss Essie placed her in the +great chair, and stood resting one hand on the back of it. + +"Miss Essie," he said, "Faith belongs to me--and therefore if I take +care of her strength in a somewhat summary way, you will forgive me." + +Miss Essie paused and looked at him in most bewildering confusion. He +had spoken and she had heard, very clearly. + +"I don't believe it!"--she said with an attempt at jocularity in which +there mingled somehow, inexplicably, a quality that was not pleasure. +"Faith!--no double-dealing. Two is too much." + +"Or even the suggestion of two," Mr. Linden said. + +"Do you mean," said Miss Essie looking at him with a semi-comical +endeavour to cover up discomfiture and other things--"do you mean to +say that I have made nothing here but an abominable mistake?" + +"I should give it a different adjective." + +Miss Essie made a despairing gesture. "Oh!--I might well say it's no +use talking to people! Will you ever for give me, Mr. Linden, for all +the mischief I have tried to do you? I didn't know _both_ parties were +within hearing of me, you know, sir?--" + +"Miss Essie, I hope you may always be as successful." + +Perhaps Miss Essie wondered, as she glanced at Faith, whether she had +done any "mischief" or no; but she ventured no sort of repartee, being +altogether in an uncomfortable and somewhat awed state of mind. She +made hurried adieus to Mrs. Derrick, more formal and extremely civil +leave-taking of Mr. Linden, parted in a sort of astonished wise with +Faith and the diamonds which evidently bewildered her yet, and made +what was also evidently an escape out of the house. While Mr. Linden +attended the lady to the door, Faith softly and swiftly passed behind +them and made her escape too, up stairs. She was gone before he turned. + +It was perhaps an hour after this, when Cindy entered Faith's room and +gave her a note. "I'm free to confess," said Cindy, "that Mr. Linden +gave it to me, but who writ it I don't know." But Faith did. It ran +thus:-- + + + +"Mademoiselle--With great impatience I have waited for my Sunbeam to +break through the gloomy clouds of doubt which surround me--but I +perceive the 'warning' has taken effect! + +In keeping with this is the state of the outer world, which is even +rainy!--so that my purpose to take said Sunbeam out to drive is for the +present thwarted. + +Conceive of my state of mind! + +In vain I repeat to myself the comforting truth, that my Sunbeam is +shining somewhere, if not on me,--there are circumstances where +philosophical truths lose all their power. + +I remember that the 'warning' contained some notable mistakes,--as for +instance, that I should ever--my pen refuses to write the words!--or I +do. As well might it be said that I should----. Mademoiselle, you must +perceive the obvious bearing of these two upon each other. + +If your interest in the writer has carried you so far, perhaps he may +indulge the hope that at some future time it may carry you +further--even to the head of the stairs--where it is needless to say +you will be received with open arms. + +It is also needless to sign this--it could come from but one person!" + + + +Some two minutes after, Faith's room door opened, and a very flashing +bright sunbeam came out upon the place indicated, only a little +peachblossom tinge in her cheeks witnessing to any consciousness. She +was met according to promise--then held off and looked at with +serio-comic eyes. + +"What a cruel child you are!" Mr. Linden said. + +"What do you want, Endecott?" said Faith trying to be serious. + +"How can you have the heart to sit up stairs and sew while I am down +stairs in my study?" + +Faith instantly came so close, taking the nearest refuge, that he could +not very well see her face; but that she was laughing still he knew. + +"Endecott!--don't talk so. I didn't know where you were." + +"Will it be in this sort of weather that you will 'go out to do +errands' and leave me at home?" + +"Endecott!--If you don't want anything more of me," said Faith lifting +up a face which was an array of peach-blossoms,--"I'll go back again." + +"Will you?--" with a little tightening of his hold, and signification +of his approval of peachblossoms. "Faith, you are a lovely child! Will +it distress you very much if I go off and ride about the country alone?" + +But now,--seeing she could not get away,--she stood graver; and the +answer was very gentle, almost tender--"No." + +"Then you will not confess that you were frightened out of your wits at +the picture?" said Mr. Linden smiling, though with an answering change +of tone. + +"Did you think I was?" + +"No--you are too much of a woman for that, even if you had believed it +true." + +"Then _you_ were not frightened?--" she said with some comicality. + +"I? desperately!--my note did not give you any idea of the state of my +mind! Imagine me sitting down stairs and saying to myself--(words +naturally suggested by the state of the weather)-- + + 'O how this spring of love resembleth + Th' uncertain glories of an April day, + Which now shews all the beauties of the sun, + And by and by a cloud takes all away!'" + + +One of the soft flashes of Faith's eye came first to answer him; and +then she remarked very coolly, (N.B. her face was not so,) "I think it +will clear at noon, Endecott." + +"Do you?" he said looking towards the window with a counterfeit +surprise that was in comical antithesis to his last words,--"does it +rain still!" + +Faith's eye came back quick from the window to him, and then, for the +first time in many a long day, her old mellow sweet laugh rolled over +the subject, dismissing make-believes and figures of speech in its +clear matter-of-fact rejoicing. + +"My dear little Mignonette!" Mr. Linden said, "that does my very heart +good. You are really getting better, in spite of lessons and warnings, +and all other hindrances. Do you want to know what I have truly been +thinking of since you came up stairs? Shall we exchange thoughts?" + +"Please give me yours," she answered. + +"They sprang from Miss Essie's question. Faith, when she asked me what +my wife would have, I could not tell her--I could not answer it to +myself afterwards very definitely. Only so far--she will have all I +have to give." His hand was smoothing and arranging her hair as he +spoke--his look one that nobody but Faith ever had from Mr. Linden. She +had looked up once and seen it; and then she stood before him, so still +and silent as if she might have had nothing to say; but every line of +her brow, her moved lip, her attitude, the very power of her silence, +contradicted that, and testified as well to the grace of a grave and +most exquisite humility which clothed her from head to foot. Mr. Linden +was as silent as she, watching her; but then he drew her off to the low +couch in the wide old-fashioned entry window, and seated her there in a +very bath of spring air and struggling sunbeams. + +"I suppose it is useless to say 'Please give me yours'," he said +smiling. "Mignonette, we have had no reading to-day--do you like this +time and place?--and shall it be with you or to you?" + +"It will be both, won't it?" said Faith; and she went for her Bible. + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + + + +The day was struggling into clearness by the time dinner was over. +Patches of blue sky looked down through grey, vapoury, scattering +clouds; while now and then a few rain drops fell to keep up the +character of the morning, and broad warm genial sunbeams fell between +them. It was not fair yet for a drive; and Mr. Linden went out on some +errands of business, leaving Faith with a charge to sleep and rest and +be ready against his return. + +He was but a little while gone when Jem Waters made his appearance and +asked for Faith. Mr. Simlins had been ill--that Faith knew--but Jem +brought a sad report of how ill he had been, and a message that he was +"tired of not seeing Faith and wished she would let Jem fetch her down. +She might go back again as soon as she'd a mind to." He wanted to see +her "real bad," according to Jem; for he had ordered the best wagon on +the premises to be cleaned and harnessed up, and the best buffalo robe +put in, and charged Jem to bring Miss Faith "if she could anyways +come." And there was Jem and the wagon. + +Faith demurred; she had not had her sleep and didn't know, or rather +did know, how the proceeding would be looked upon; but she also fancied +more meaning in the summons than Jem had been commissioned to make +known. And perhaps another little wee feminine thought came in to help +her decision. + +"Mother," she said, "I shall go. You need not say anything about it +unless you are asked. It isn't far to Mr. Simlins--I shall be home in +time for my ride." So, quickly ready, Jem drove her down. + +Mr. Simlins she found sitting up, in a nondescript invalid's attire of +an old cloak and a summer waistcoat; and warm as the day was, with a +little fire burning, which was not unnecessary to correct the damp of +the unused sitting-room. He was, as he said, "fallen away considerable, +and with no more strength than a spring chicken," but for the rest +looked as usual. And so spoke. + +"Well,--why haint you been to see me before?" + +"I have been sick, sir." + +"Sick?" said he, his voice softening unconsciously towards her sweet +tones. "Sit there and let me see.--I believe you have. But you aint fur +from well now!" He had some reason, for the face he had turned to the +sunlight bore all the quiet lines of happiness, and its somewhat faint +colour was replaced under his scrutiny by a conscious deep rose. + +"Don't you know," said he settling himself back in his chair,--"I don't +think I see the sun and moon when I don't see you? Or the moon, +anyways--you aint but the half of my Zodiack." + +"What did you want to see the moon for, Mr. Simlins?" said Faith +willing to interrupt him. + +"Well--you see, I've been a kind of a latudinarian too," said Mr. +Simlins doubtfully.--"It pulls a man's mind down; as well as his +flesh--and I got tired of thinkin' to-day and concluded I'd send for +you to stop it." His look confessed more than his words. Faith had +little need to ask what he had been thinking about. + +"What shall I do to stop it, sir?" + +"Well, you can read--can't you?--or talk to me." + +There was a strange uneasy wandering of his eye, and a corresponding +unwonted simplicity and directness in his talk. Faith noted both and +silently went for a Bible she saw lying on a table. She brought it to +Mr. Simlins' side and opened its pages slowly, questioning with herself +where she should read. Some association of a long past conversation +perhaps was present with her, for though she paused over one and +another of several passages, she could fix upon none but the parable of +the unfruitful tree. + +"Do you mean that for me?" said the farmer a minute after she had done. + +"Yes sir--and no, dear Mr. Simlins!" said Faith looking up. + +"Why is it 'yes' and 'no'? how be I like that?"--he growled, but with a +certain softening and lowering of his growl. + +"The good trees all do the work they were made for. God calls for the +same from us," Faith said gently. + +"I know what you're thinkin' of," said he;--"but haint I done it? Who +ever heerd a man say I had wronged him? or that I have been +hard-hearted either? I never was." + +It was curious how he let his thoughts out to her; but the very gentle, +pure and true face beside him provoked neither controversy nor +mistrust, nor pride. He spoke to her as if she had only been a child. +Like a child, with such sympathy and simplicity, she answered him. + +"Mr. Simlins, the Bible says that 'the fruits of righteousness are by +Jesus Christ.'--Do you know him?--are you in his service?" + +"I don't know as I understand you," said he. + +"I can't make you understand it, sir." + +"Why can't you? who can?" said he quickly. + +"It is written, Mr. Simlins,--'They shall be all taught of God.'"--She +shewed him the place. "And it is written, 'Come, and let us go up to +the mountain of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob; and _he +will teach us_ of his ways, and we will walk in his paths.'--That is +it. If you are willing to walk in his paths, he will shew them to you." +Faith looked eagerly at the farmer, and he looked at her. Neither heart +was hid from the other. + +"But supposin' I was willin'--which I be, so fur's I know--I don't know +what they be no more'n a child. How am I goin' to find 'em out?" + +Faith's eyes filled quick as she turned over the leaves again;--was it +by sympathy alone that occasion came for the rough hand to pass once or +twice hastily across those that were looking at her? Without speaking, +Faith shewed him the words,--"If any man will do his will, he shall +know of the doctrine." + +"That is the question, dear Mr. Simlins. On that 'if' it all hangs." +The farmer took the book into his own hands and sat looking steadily at +the words. + +"Well," said he putting it back on her lap--"supposin' the 'if' 's all +right--Go ahead, Faith." + +"Then the way is clear for you to do that; and it's all easy. But the +first thing is here--the invitation of Jesus himself." + +"'Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give +you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me; for I am meek and +lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is +easy, and my burden is light.'" + +"You see," she went on very gently,--"he bids you _learn of him_--so he +is ready to teach you. If you are only willing to take his yoke upon +you,--to be his servant and own it,--he will shew you what to do, step +by step, and help you in every one." + +"I don't see where's the beginning of the way yet," said the farmer. + +"_That_," said Faith. "Be the servant of Jesus Christ and own it; and +then go to him for all you want. He is good for all." + +There was a pause. + +"I s'pose you've been goin' on in that way a good while." + +"A good while--yes,"--Faith almost whispered. + +"Well, when you are goin' to him sometimes, ask somethin' for me,--will +you?" + +He had bent over, leaning on his knees, to speak it in a lower growl +than ordinary. Faith bowed her head at first, unwilling to speak; but +tears somehow started, and the drops followed each other, as she sat +gazing into the black fireplace,--she could not help it--till a perfect +shower of weeping brought her face into her hands and stirred her not +very strong frame. It stirred the farmer, robust as he was in spite of +illness; he shifted his chair most uneasily, and finally laid down his +head on his folded arms on the table. Faith was the first to speak. + +"Mr. Simlins, who takes care of you?" + +"Ugh!" (a most unintelligible grunt,) "they all do it by turns--Jenny +and all of 'em." + +"What have you had for dinner to-day?" + +"Didn't want anything!" He sat up and brushed his cloak sleeve across +his forehead. + +"Mr. Simlins, I shall send you down something from home and you must +eat it." + +"The doctor said I was to take wine--but I haint thought of it to-day." + +"Where is it?" + +He nodded his head in the direction of the cupboard. Faith went +rummaging, poured him out a glass and brought it. + +"You see," said he after he had taken it--"I've been pretty well pulled +down--I didn't know--one time--which side of the fence I was goin' +over--and I didn't see the ground on the other side. I don't know why I +should be ashamed to say I was afeard!"--There was a strong, stern, +truth-telling about this speech that thrilled his hearer. She sat down +again. + +"You had best take some yourself," he said. "Do Faith!" + +"No sir--I'm going. I must go," she answered rising to make ready. + +It was strange how the door could have opened and she not heard +it--neither she nor Mr. Simlins in fact,--perhaps because their minds +were so far away. That the incoming steps were unheard was not so +strange, nor new, but the first thing of which Faith was conscious was +the soft touch of a hand on either side of her face--she was a +prisoner. Faith's instant spring to one side brought her face to face +with everybody. Mr. Simlins looked from one to the other, and his first +remark was characteristically addressed to Faith. + +"Why you didn't tell me that!" + +"Has she told you everything _but_ that?" said Mr. Linden smiling, and +giving the farmer's hand good token of his presence. + +"Where under the sun did you come from?" said the farmer returning his +grasp with interest, and looking at Mr. Linden as if indeed one of the +lights of the solar system had been out before his arrival. Faith sat +down mutely and as quietly as possible behind Mr. Linden. + +"From under the sun very literally just now--before that from under a +shower. I have been down to Quapaw, then home to Mrs. Derrick's, then +here. Mr. Simlins, I am sorry to see that you are nursing yourself +instead of me. What is the matter?" + +"I'd as lieves be doin' this, of the two," said the farmer with a stray +smile. "There aint much the matter. How long have you been in this +meridian?" + +"Two days." And stepping from before Faith, Mr. Linden asked her "if +she had come there in a dream?" + +"Do you ever see such good-lookin' things in your dreams?" said the +farmer. "My visual pictures are all broken down fences, or Jem or Jenny +doin' somethin' they haint ought to do. How long're you goin' to stay +in Pattaquasset, Dominie?" + +"Some time, I hope. Not quite so long as the first time, but longer +than I have been since that. Do you know, Mr. Simlins, your coat collar +is a little bit turned in?--and why don't you give the sunshine a +better welcome?--you two sick people together want some one to make a +stir for you." Which office Mr. Linden took upon himself--lightly +disengaging the collar, and then going to the window to draw up the +shade and throw back the shutters, stopping on his way back to +straighten the table cover, and followed by a full gush of sunlight +from the window. + +"It is so glorious this afternoon!" he said. And standing silent a +moment in that brilliant band of light-looking out at the world all +glittering and sparkling in the sun, Mr. Linden repeated,--"'Unto you +that fear my name, shall the Sun of Righteousness arise, with healing +in his wings.'--What a promise that is!" + +"Where did you get those words?"--said Mr. Simlins, after the sunlight +and the silence had given them their full effect. + +"From the Bible--God's book of promises. Do you want to see the place?" + +Mr. Simlins turned down a corner of the leaf and laid the book, still +open, on the table. Then looked at Mr. Linden with a mixture of +pleasure and humour in his eyes. "Are you any nearer bein' a minister +than you was a year ago?" + +"Nearer in one way. But I cannot lay claim to the title you gave me for +another year yet, Mr. Simlins." + +"You're Say and Seal as much as ever. What more fixin' have you got to +do?" + +"A little finishing," said Mr. Linden with a smile. + +And he got up and went for Faith's shawl and gloves which were on the +table. Mr. Simlins watched the shawling and gloving with attention. + +"You can tell Jem he won't be wanted again, Faith," he said. "I guess +you'll see him at the gate." Mr. Linden smiled, but some other thought +was on his mind,--the face that he turned to Mr. Simlins shewed concern +that was both grave and kind. + +"What can I do for you?" he said. + +"This aint the prettiest place in Pattaquasset; but maybe you'll come +and see me sometimes--till I can get out my self," Mr. Simlins said +considerately. + +"You may be sure I will. And will you let me pray with you now, before +I go?" + +The farmer hesitated--or was silent--one instant, then with a sort of +subdued abruptness said, + +"I'm ready!"-- + +They knelt there in the sunlight; but when the prayer was over Mr. +Simlins felt half puzzled to know for whose sake it had been proposed. +For with the telling of his doubts and hindrances and wants--things +which he had told to no one, there mingled so much of the speaker's own +interest,--which could not be content to leave him but in Christ's +hands. + +There was not a word spoken after that for a minute,--Mr. Linden stood +by the low mantelpiece resting his face on his hand. The farmer, busy +with the feelings which the prayer had raised, sat with downcast eyes. +And Faith was motionless with a deep and manifold sense of happiness, +the labyrinth of which herself could not soon have threaded out. The +silence and stillness of his two companions drew the farmer's eyes up; +he read first, with an eager eye that nobody saw, the sweet gravity on +one half hidden face, and the deep pure joy written in all the lines of +the other; and secret and strong, though half unknown to himself, the +whole tide of his heart turned that way. If not before, then at least, +something like Ruth's resolution came up within him;--"thy people shall +be my people, and thy God my God!" Mr. Linden was the first one that +moved. + +"Are you ready, dear child?" + +The farmer's eyes were on her too, even while he wrung Mr. Linden's +hand. But he only said before he let it go,--"Give a glass of wine to +her when she gets home." + +Out in the sweet afternoon air, and driving through the gate which +opened on the highway, with Jem Waters on hand to shut it, Mr. Linden +brought Faith's face round towards him and scanned it earnestly. + +"My child, how tired you are! I wish I knew whether it would do you +most good to go straight home, or to breathe this air a little longer." + +"I hope you won't conclude to take me home," said Faith. "I have been +looking for this all day." + +"Do you think you deserve to have it?" said Mr. Linden, turning Jerry's +head however the way that was _not_ straight home. "Why didn't you +sleep, and wait for me to bring you down here?" + +"One reason was, Endy, that I half guessed Mr. Simlins wanted to talk +to me and that it might be better for him to see one than two. + +"I could have left you there for a while." + +"No you couldn't!" she said. "And I couldn't have driven off Jerry and +left you--though that would have been better." + +"You could have driven me off. What was the other reason?" + +"The other reason isn't really worth your hearing. Don't you think this +afternoon is too pretty to spoil with bad reasons?"--she said with +gentle eyes, half fun, half confession. + +"Entirely. Faith--I think you would bear the ride better if you had a +sort of afternoon lunch,--shall we stop at Miss Bezac's for a glass of +milk?" + +"Oh no!"--she said hastily. "Oh no, Endecott! I don't want anything but +to ride." + +"And to hide--" said Mr. Linden laughingly. "Another bad reason, Faith?" + +She gave him a little blushing look, very frank and happy, that also +bore homage to his penetration. + +"Stop anywhere you please, Endy," she said honestly. "I was very glad +you came to Mr. Simlins'." + +"Would you rather get it from Mrs. Davids?" he inquired demurely. + +"No, not rather. Whichever you like, Endecott," Faith said, hiding the +start which the question in this real form gave her. The afternoon sun +through which they were riding was very bright; the washed leaves were +brilliantly green; sweet scents of trees and buds filled the air, and +opening apple blossoms were scattering beauty all over the land. +Nothing could spoil that afternoon. Faith had a secret consciousness +besides that the very thing from which she shrank was by no means +disagreeable to Mr. Linden. She did not care what he did! And he,--in +the joy of being with her, of seeing her grow stronger every hour, Mr. +Linden was in a 'holiday humour'--in the mood for work or play or +mischief; and took the road to Miss Bezac's for more than a glass of +milk. + +"Mignonette," he said, "what varieties of pride do you consider lawful +and becoming?" + +"I know only a few innocent sorts," said Faith,--"that I keep for +myself." + +"Luxurious child! 'A few innocent sorts of pride that you keep for +yourself'! You must divide with me." + +How Faith laughed. + +"You wouldn't thank me for one of them all, Endecott. And yet--" She +stopped, and coloured brilliantly on the sudden. + +"Explain and finish," said Mr. Linden laconically. + +"If I told you what they are you would laugh at me." + +"That would not hurt me. What are they, Mignonette?" + +She spoke gravely, though smiling sometimes; answering to the matter of +fact, as she had been asked. "I am proud, a little, of very fine rolls +of butter, or a particularly good cheese. I think I am proud of my +carnations, and perhaps--" she went on colouring--"of being so good a +baker as I am. And perhaps--I think I am--of such things as sewing and +dressmaking;--but I don't think there is much harm in all that. I know +myself sometimes proud of other things, where I know it is wrong." + +"How do you know but I am proud of your rolls of butter too?" said Mr. +Linden looking amused. "But Mignonette, what called forth such a +display of the carnations you are _not_ proud of? What was the force of +that 'And yet'?" + +It brought the colour again, and Faith hesitated and looked puzzled, +Then she tried a new way of escape. + +"Don't you mean to let me have any of my thoughts to myself?" she said +playfully. + +"Don't you mean to let me have any of them for myself?" + +"You?--Haven't you them almost all?" + +"My dear I beg pardon!--one for every carnation,--but I did not know +that I had so nearly made the tour of your mind. I was under the +impression that my passports were not yet made out--and that my +knowledge of your thoughts was all gained from certain predatory +excursions, telescopic observations, and such like illegal practices. I +am sure all my attempts to cross the frontier in the ordinary way are +met by something more impassable than a file of bayonets." + +Faith looked up at him as if to see how much of this was meant for true. + +"But," said she naively, "I feel as if I had been under a microscope." + +"My dear!" said Mr. Linden again, with an air at once resigned and +deprecating. But then his gravity gave way. "Faith!--is _that_ your +feeling in my company? I wonder you can endure the sight of me." + +"Why?"--said she timidly. + +"If I seem to you like a microscope." + +"Only your eyes, like those power-glasses.--Not for size!" said Faith, +laughing now herself. + +"Ah little Mignonette," he said smiling, "some things can be seen +without microscopic vision. And do not you know, my child, that +carnations must draw attention to the particular point round which they +bloom?" + +"Endy, you shall know what I was thinking of," she said. "You touched +it already. It was only--that perhaps sometime you _would_ be a little +proud even of those little things in me--because--Now you can punish me +for being proud in earnest!"--It was said in great confusion; it had +cost Faith a struggle; the white and red both strove in her downcast +face. Mr. Linden might not fathom what was not in a man's nature; but +Faith had hardly ever perhaps given him such a token of the value she +set upon his pleasure. + +"Punish you?" he said, leaving Jerry to find the road for himself for a +minute,--"how shall I do it?--so? And how much punishment do you +require? I think a little is not enough. 'Because' what, love?" + +"Endy!--" she said under her breath,--"you know!--don't ask me." + +"Then--if I exceed your limits--you will not blame me?" + +"Limits of what?" + +"Limits of this species of executive justice." + +"I don't think you would keep limits of anybody else's setting," said +Faith with a little subdued fun. "Look, Endy!--we are coming to Miss +Bezac's." + +"Most true," said Mr. Linden,--"now shall you see (perhaps!) one of the +innocent sorts of pride that I keep for myself. What have we come for?" +he added laughing, as Jerry trotted up the side hill to the +cottage,--"is it butter, or carnations, or dressmaking?--they all make +a rare combination in my mind at present." + +"She is at home!" said Faith,--"if she wasn't, the window-curtains +would be down. Now she is going to be pleased,--and so am I, for she +will give me something to eat." Faith looked as if she wanted it, as +she softly opened the door of the dressmaker's little parlour, or +workroom, and softly went in. The various business and talk of the +afternoon had exhausted her. + +Miss Bezac, having in her young days been not only rich, but also a +firstrate needlewoman, now that she was older and poor plied her needle +for a different purpose. Yet something of old habits clung to her +still; she would not take the common work of the village; but when Mrs. +Stoutenburgh wanted a gay silk dress, or Miss De Staff a delicate +muslin, or Mrs. Somers an embroidered merino--then Miss Bezac was sure +to have them go through her hands; and for these ladies she took the +fashions and dispensed them exceeding well. Strangers too, in +Pattaquasset for the summer, often came to her,--and had not Miss Bezac +made the very first embroidered waistcoat that ever Squire Deacon wore, +or Sam Stoutenburgh admired himself in? So her table was generally +covered with pretty work, and on this particular afternoon she was +choosing the patterns for a second waistcoat for the young member from +Quilipeak, a mantilla for his mother, and a silk apron for Miss Essie, +all at once. In deep cogitation Faith found her, and Faith's soft +salutation,-- + +"Dear Miss Bezac, will you let strangers come in?" How gloriously Faith +blushed. + +"Strangers!" cried Miss Bezac, turning round. "Why Faith!--you don't +mean to say it's you?--though I don't suppose you mean to say it's +anybody else. Unless--I declare I don't know whether it is you or not!" +said Miss Bezac, looking from her to Mr. Linden and shaking hands with +both at once. "Though if it isn't I ought to have heard--only folks +don't always do what they ought--at least I don't,--nor much of +anything." + +"It is nobody else yet," said Mr. Linden smiling. Whereat Miss Bezac +laid one hand on the other, and stepping back a little surveyed the two +"as a whole." + +"Do you know," she said, "(you wouldn't think it) but sometimes I can't +say a word!" + +"You must not expect Faith to say much--she is tired," said Mr. Linden +putting her in a chair. "Miss Bezac, I brought her here to get +something to eat." + +"Well I don't believe--I don't really believe that anybody but you +would ever do such a kind thing," said Miss Bezac. "What shall I get? +Faith--what will you have? And you're well enough to be out again!--and +it's so well I'm not out myself!--I'll run and see if the fire +ain't,--the kettle ought to be boiled, for I wanted an early cup of +tea." + +"No, dear Miss Bezac, don't!" said Faith. "Only give me some bread and +milk." + +Miss Bezac stopped short. + +"Bread and milk?" she said--"is that good for you? The bread's good, I +know, baked last night; and the milk always is sweet, up here with the +cowslips--and most things are sweet when you're hungry. But ain't you +more hungry than that?--and somebody else might be, if you ain't--and +one always must think of somebody else too. But you do, I'll say that +for you. And oh didn't I say long ago!--" A funny little recollective +pause Miss Bezac made, her thoughts going back even to the night of the +celebration. Then she ran away for the bread and milk,--then she came +back and put her head in at the door. + +"Faith, do you like a cup or a bowl?--I like a cup, because I always +think of a cup of comfort--and I never heard of a bowl of anything. But +you can have which you like." + +"I like the cup too," said Faith laughing. "But even the bowl would be +comfort to-day, Miss Bezac." + +The cup came, and a little pitcher for replenishing, and a blue plate +of very white bread and very brown bread, and one of Miss Bezac's +old-fashioned silver spoons, and a little loaf of "one, two, three, +four, cake", that looked as good as the bread. All of which were +arranged on a round stand before Faith by Miss Bezac and Mr. Linden +jointly. He brought her a footstool too, and with persuasive fingers +untied and took off her bonnet--which supplementary arrangements Miss +Bezac surveyed with folded hands and great admiration. Which also made +the pale cheeks flush again, but that was pretty to look upon. Faith +betook herself to the old-fashioned spoon and the milk, then gave Mr. +Linden something to do in the shape of a piece of cake; and then +resigning herself to circumstances broke brown bread into the milk and +eat it with great and profitable satisfaction, leaving the conversation +in the hands of the other two. The sun sank lower and lower, sending +farewell beams into the valleys, and shaking out gold pieces in Miss +Bezac's little brown sitting-room like the Will-o'-wisps in the "Tale +of tales". Through the open door her red cow might be seen returning +home by a winding and circuitous path, such as cows love, and a little +sparrow hopped in and out, from the doorstep, looking for "One, two, +three, four", crumbs. Faith from her seat near the fire could see it +all--if her eyes chose to pass Mr. Linden,--what he saw, she found out +whenever they went that way. It was not wonderful that Faith turned +from the table at last with a very refreshed face. + +"Miss Bezac, you have made me up," she said smiling. + +"Have I?" said her little hostess,--"well that comes pretty near it. Do +you know when I saw you--I mean when I saw _both_ of you, I really +thought you had come for me to make up something else? And I must say, +I wish you had,--not that I haven't dresses enough, and too +many--unless I had a new pair of eyes--but I always did set my heart on +making that one. And I haven't set my heart upon many things for a good +while, so of course I ain't used to being disappointed. You won't +begin, will you, Faith?" + +Faith kissed her, hastily expressing the unsentimental hope that her +tea would be as good as her bread and milk; and ran out, leaving Mr. +Linden to follow at his leisure. Faith was found untying Jerry. + +"What do you mean?" said Mr. Linden staying her hands and lifting her +in the most summary manner into the wagon. "Bread and milk is too +stimulating for you, child,--we must find something less exciting. What +will you see fit to do next?" + +"I can untie a bridle," said Faith. + +"Or slip your head through one. But you should have seen the delight +with which Miss Bezac entered upon the year of patience that I +prescribed to her!--and the very (innocuous) pride that lay hid in the +prescription. Do you feel disposed to punish me for that, Mignonette?" + +One of Faith's grave childish looks answered him; but then, dismissing +Mr. Linden as impracticable, she gave herself to the enjoyment of the +time. It was a fit afternoon! The sunbeams were bright on leaves and +flowers, with that fairy brightness which belongs peculiarly to spring. +The air was a real spring air, sweet and bracing, full of delicate +spices of May. The apple blossoms, out and bursting out, dressed the +land with the very bloom of joy. And through it all Mr. Linden drove +her, himself in a "holiday humour." Bread and milk may be stimulating, +but health and happiness are more stimulating yet; and Faith came home +after a ride of some length looking not a bit the worse, and ready for +supper. + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + + + +A month passed away,--with apple blossoms, strawberry flowers, now with +strawberries themselves. Roses coming into splendour, carnations in +full force, and both re-established in the cheeks of Faith Derrick. +What a month it had been!--of weather, of work, of society. Lessons +after the old fashion, reading aloud, talking; going round the country +at Jerry's heels, or on the back of Mrs. Stoutenburgh's pony--for there +she was put, just so soon as she could bear it, passing by degrees from +a gentle trot on level ground to a ladylike scamper over the hills. +Faith had not been so strong for many a day as the longest day of that +summer found her. + +Coming home from their afternoon ride by the way of the postoffice, Mr. +Linden found there a letter from Europe; the seal of which he broke as +they entered, the house, just in time to give Faith a little enclosed +note to herself as she went up stairs to change her dress. Its words +were few. Referring Faith to Mr. Linden for particulars, it asked her +to let him come to Germany without delay. The aunt with whom Miss +Linden lived was at the point of death, apparently--she herself in +danger of being left quite alone in a strange land. Yet with all the +urgency of the case, the whole breathing of Miss Linden's note was, +"Faith--can you spare him?--will you let him come?" + +The question was settled before it was asked, in Faith's mind; but what +a laying down of pleasure and what a taking up of pain was there! The +rest of the vacation was gone at once; for Mr. Linden could not go to +Europe and come back, even on the wings of steam, and have a day left +before study would begin again. No more of him--except, at the best, +snatches--till next year; and next year was very far off, and who could +tell what might be next year? But at the best, she must see little more +of him until then; and in the mean time he must put half the world +between them. Nobody saw how fast the roses faded on Faith's cheek; she +sat and looked at the matter all alone, and looked it through. For one +few minutes; and then she rose up and began dressing slowly, looking at +it still, but gathering all her forces together to deal with it. And +when her dressing was done, she still stood leaning one hand and her +head on the dressing table, thinking over all that was to do. She had +remembered, as with a flash of remembrance, what day the next steamer +would sail--from what port--she knew the hour when Mr. Linden must +leave Pattaquasset. And when her mind had seen all the preparations to +be made, and she thought she was strong enough, she turned to go down +stairs; but then feeling very weak Faith turned again and kneeled down +to pray. And in a mixed feeling of strength and weakness, she went down +stairs. + +First to the kitchen, where she quietly looked after the state of the +clothes in the wash, and desired Cindy to have all Mr. Linden's things +ready for ironing that evening. Then attended to the supply of bread +and the provision for breakfast; saw that one or two things about the +supper were in proper order and progress; asked Mrs. Derrick to make +the tea when it was time, and finally, as quietly as if the afternoon's +ride had been the only event of the afternoon, opened the door of the +sitting-room and softly went in. + +For a while after reading his own letter Mr. Linden had sat absolutely +still,--then with a sort of impatience to see Faith, to give her what +comfort he could, at least to have her with him every minute, he had +paced up and down the sitting-room till she appeared. Now he took her +in his arms with all sorts of tender caresses--with no words at first +but, "My little Mignonette!" Faith herself was quite still and +wordless; only once, and that suddenly and earnestly, she gave his +cheek the salutation she had never given him before unbidden. From her +it was a whole volume, and thoroughly peace-speaking, although it might +intimate a little difficulty of words. + +Keeping one arm round her, Mr. Linden began again his walk up and down +the room; beginning to talk as well--telling her what was in his +letter, how long the journey would take, and more than all, what she +must do while he was away. How long the absence would be--when he +should be at home again, that was little touched upon by either; the +return might be very speedy--that seemed most probable, but neither he +nor Faith cared to put in words all the uncertainties that hung about +it. From every point he came back to her,--with injunctions about her +strength, and directions about her studies, and charges to take care of +herself _for him_--with other words of comfort and cheering, spoken +cheerfully from a very sorrowful heart. One other charge he gave-- + +"My little Sunbeam, my dearest Faith, keep both your names unclouded!" + +"I have had one lesson, Endy"-- + +She was a little pale, but had listened to him quietly as intently; +voice and smile both ready to do their part, albeit gravely, whenever +there was a part for them. + +"I shall not forget--" she added now with a smile, a rare one, after a +little pause. + +He brought her back to the sofa then, kissing the pale cheeks as if he +missed their carnations. Yet--with the stringency of the old law which +saith that "Doublet and hose must shew itself courageous to +petticoat"--Mr. Linden gave her bright words, although they were words +of a very grave brightness--not contradicted, but qualified by his eyes. + +"Mignonette," he said, "I did not think next year could gain brightness +from anything--but I cannot tell you how it has looked to me within +these last two hours. If I could but call in Mr. Somers, and then take +you with me!" + +It brought a rush of the carnations; but Faith did not think so +extravagant a wish required any combating. Neither did she say what +_she_ thought of "next year." + +That evening at least they had quietly together. What Faith did after +they had separated for the night, Mr. Linden never knew; but the +morning saw everything ready for his departure,--ready down to the +little details which a man recognizes only (for the most part) by the +sense of want. And if cheeks were paler than last night, they were only +now and then less steady--till he was gone. + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + + + +Dr. Harrison took passage in the steamship Vulcan, C. W. Cyclops, +commander, for the Old World; having come to the conclusion that the +southern country was not sufficiently remote, and that only a change of +hemispheres would suit the precise state of his mind. Letters of +combined farewell and notice-giving, reached Pattaquasset too late to +cumber the doctor with a bevy of friends to see him off; but his sudden +motions were too well known, and his peculiarities too long +established, to excite much surprise or dismay by any new +manifestations. + +The Vulcan lay getting her steam up in that fair June morning, with +very little regard to the amount of high pressure that her passengers +might bring on board. Nothing could be more regardless of their hurry +and bustle, the causes that brought them, the tears they shed, the +friends they left behind, than the ship with her black sides and red +smoke pipe. Tears did indeed trickle down some parts of her machinery, +but they were only condensed steam--which might indeed be true of some +of the tears of her passengers. + +Punctual to her time she left her moorings, steaming down the beautiful +bay with all the June light upon her, throwing back little foamy waves +that glittered in the sun, making her farewell with a long train of +blue rollers that came one after another to kiss the shore. What if +tears sprinkled the dusty sidewalks of Canal St.?--what if that same +light shone on white handkerchiefs and bowed heads?--The answering +drops might fall in the state-rooms of the Vulcan, but on deck bustle +and excitement had their way. + +So went on the miles and the hours,--then the pilot left the vessel, +taking with him a little handful of letters; and the passengers who had +been down stairs to write were on deck, watching him off. In the city +business rolled on with its closing tide,--far down on the Long Branch +shore people looked northward towards a dim outline, a little waft of +smoke, and said--"There goes the Vulcan." The freshening breeze, the +long rolls of the Atlantic, sent some passengers below, even +now,--others stood gazing back at the faint city indications,--others +still walked up and down--those who had left little, or cared little +for what they had left. Of these was Dr. Harrison, who paced the deck +with very easy external manifestations. + +Some change of mind--some freak of fancy, sent him at last to the other +side of the ship--then to the prow. Here sailors were busy,--here one +passenger stood alone: but if there had been twenty more, Dr. Harrison +could have seen but this one. He was standing with arms folded, in a +sort of immoveable position, that yet accommodated itself easily to the +ship's slow courtseying; as regardless of that as of the soft play of +the sea breeze; looking back--but not to the place where the Vulcan had +lain a few hours before. He was rather looking forward,--looking off to +some spot that lay north or northeast of them: some spot invisible, yet +how clearly seen! Looking thither,--as if in all the horizon that alone +had any interest. So absorbed--so far from the ship,--his lips set in +such grave, sad lines; his eyes so intent, as if they could by no means +look at anything else. Nay, for the time, there was nothing else to +see! Dr. Harrison might come or go--the sailors might do their +utmost,--far over the rolling water, conscious of that only because it +was a barrier of separation, the watcher's eyes rested on Mignonette. +If once or twice the eyelids fell, it was not that the vision failed. + +Dr. Harrison stopped short, unseen, and not wishing at that moment to +meet the consequences of being seen. Yet he stood still and looked. The +first feeling being one of intense displeasure and disgust that the +Vulcan carried so unwelcome a fellow-passenger; the second, of +unbounded astonishment and wonder what he did there. _He_ putting the +ocean between him and Pattaquasset? _he_ setting out for the Old World, +with all his hopes just blossoming in the New? What could be the +explanation? Was it possible, Dr. Harrison asked himself for one +moment, that he could have been mistaken? that he could have +misunderstood the issue of the conversation that morning in Faith's +sick room? A moment resolved him. He recalled the steady, dauntless +look of Faith's eyes after his words,--a look which he had two or three +times been privileged to receive from her and never cared to meet;--he +remembered how daintily her colour rose as her eyes fell, and the slow +deliberate uncovering of her diamond finger from which the eyes were +not raised again to look at him; he remembered it with the embittered +pang of the moment. No! he had not been mistaken; he had read her +right. Could it be--it crossed the doctor's mind like a flash of the +intensest lightning--that _his letter_ had done its work? its work of +separation? But the cool reminder of reason came like the darkness +after the lightning. Mr. Linden would not have been at Mrs. Derrick's, +as the doctor had heard of his being there, if any entering wedge of +division had made itself felt between his place there and him. No, +though now he was here in the Vulcan. And Dr. Harrison noticed anew, +keenly, that the expression of the gazer's face, though sorrowful and +grave, was in nowise dark or desponding. Nothing of that! The grave +brow was unbent in every line of it; the grave lips had no hard set of +pain; the doctor read them well, both lips and brow! Mr. Linden was no +man to stand and look towards Pattaquasset if he had nothing there. And +with a twinge he now recollected the unwonted sound of that name from +the pilot's mouth as he took charge of the letters and went off. Ay! +and turning with the thought the doctor paced back again, as +unregardful now of the contents of the Vulcan, animate or inanimate, as +the man himself whom he had been watching. + +What should he do? he must meet him and speak to him, though the doctor +desired nothing less in the whole broad earth. But he must do it, for +the maintenance of his own character and the safety of his own secret +and pride that hung thereby. That little piece of simplicity up there +in the country had managed to say him no without being directly asked +to say anything--thanks to her truthful honesty; and perhaps, a twinge +or two of another sort came to Dr. Harrison's mind as he thought of his +relations with her,--yes, and of his relations with _him_. Not +pleasant, but all the more, if possible, Dr. Harrison set his teeth and +resolved to speak to Mr. Linden the first opportunity. All the more, +that he was not certain Mr. Linden had received his letter,--it was +likely, yet Dr. Harrison had had no note of the fact. It might have +failed. And not withstanding all the conclusions to which his +meditations had come, curiosity lingered yet;--a morbid curiosity, +unreasonable, as he said to himself, yet uncontrollable, to see by eye +and ear witness, even in actual speech and conversation, whether all +was well with Mr. Linden or not. His own power of self-possession Dr. +Harrison could trust; he would try that of the other. Yet he took +tolerably good care that the opportunity of speaking should not be this +evening. The doctor did not come in to supper till all the passengers +were seated, or nearly so, and then carried himself to the end of the +apartment furthest from his friend; where he so bore his part that no +mortal could have supposed Dr. Harrison had suffered lately in mind, +body, or estate. + +Mr. Linden's part that night was a quiet one, the voluntary part of it, +and strictly confined to the various little tea-table courtesies which +with him might indeed be called involuntary. But it so happened that +the Vulcan carried out quite a knot of his former friends--gentlemen +who knew him well, and these from their various places at the table +spoke either to him or of him frequently. Dr. Harrison in the pauses of +his own talk could hear, "Linden"--"Endecott Linden"--"John, what have +you been doing with yourself?"--in different tones of question or +comment,--sometimes caught the tones of Mr. Linden's voice in reply; +but as they were both on the same side of the table eyesight was not +called for. The doctor sat in his place until the table was nearly +cleared; then sauntered forth into the evening light. Fair, bright, +glowing light, upon gay water and a gay deck-full; but Dr. Harrison +gaining nothing from its brightness, stood looking out on its +reflection in the waves more gloomily than he had seen another look a +little time ago. Then a hand was laid lightly on his shoulder, making +its claim of acquaintanceship with a very kind, friendly touch. The +doctor turned and met hand and eye with as far as could be seen his old +manner, only perhaps his fingers released themselves a little sooner +than once they would, and the smile was a trifle more broad than it +might if there had been no constraint about it. + +"I am not altogether taken now by surprise," said he, "though surprise +hasn't yet quit its hold of me. I heard your name a little while ago. +What are you doing here, Linden?" + +"Rocking in the cradle of business as well as of the deep," said Mr. +Linden. "The last steamer brought word that I must sail by this, and so +here I am." + +"Who rocks the cradle of business?" said the doctor, with the old +comical lift of the eyebrows with which he used to begin a tilt with +Mr. Linden. + +"Duty and Interest rock it between them,--singing of rest, and keeping +one awake thereby." + +"A proper pair of nurses!" said the doctor. "Why man, they would tear +the infant Business to pieces between them! Unless one of them did as +much for the other in time to prevent it." + +"Never--unless Inclination took the place of Interest." + +"Don't make any difference," said the doctor;--"Inclination always +follows the lead of Interest.--Except in a few extraordinary specimens +of human nature." + +Mr. Linden turned towards the scattered groups of passengers, and so +doing his eye caught the shining of that very star which was rising +over Pattaquasset as he and Mignonette rode home two nights before. +Only two nights!--For a minute everything else might have been at the +antipodes--then Mr. Linden brought at least his eyes back to the deck +of the Vulcan. "What sort of a motley have we here, doctor? Do you know +many of them?" + +"Yes," said the doctor slightly;--"the usual combinations of Interest +and Inclination. I wonder if we are exceptions, Linden?" + +"The _usual_ combination is not, perhaps, just the best,--it is a nice +matter for a man to judge in his own case how far the proportions are +rectified." + +"He can't do it. Human machinery can't do it. Can you measure the +height of those waves while they dazzle your eyes with gold and purple +as they do now?" + +"Nay--but I can tell how much they do or do not throw me out of my +right course." + +"What course are you on now, Linden?" said the doctor with his +old-fashioned assumption of carelessness, dismissing the subject. + +"Now?" Mr. Linden repeated. "Do you mean in studies, travels, or +conversation?" + +"In conversation, you have as usual brought me to a point! I mean--if I +mean anything,--the other two; but I mean nothing, unless you like." + +"I do like. Just now, then, I am in the vacation before the last year +of my Seminary life,--for the rest, I am on my way to Germany." + +"Finish your course there, eh?" said the doctor. "Why man, I thought +you had found the 'four azure chains' long ago." + +"No, not to finish my course,--if I am kept in Germany more than a few +weeks, it will not be by 'azure' chains," said Mr. Linden. + +"That it will not!" said one of the young men coming up, fresh from the +tea-table and his cigar. "Azure chains?--pooh!--Linden breaks _them_ as +easy as Samson did the green withs. How biblical it makes one to be in +company with such a theologian! But I shouldn't wonder if he was going +to Europe to join some order of friars--he'll find nothing monastic +enough for him in America." + +"Mistaken your man, Motley!" said the doctor; who for reasons of his +own did not choose to quit the conversation. "The worst _I_ have to say +of him is, that if he spends an other year in Germany his hearers will +never be able to understand him!" + +"Mistaken him!" said Mr. Motley--"at this time of day,--that'll do! +Where did you get acquainted with him, pray?" + +"Once when I had the management of him," said the doctor coolly. "There +is no way of becoming acquainted with a man, like that." + +"Once when you _thought_ you had," said Mr. Motley. "Well, where was +it?--in a dark passage when you got to the door first?" + +"Whenever I have had the misfortune to be in a dark passage with him, +he has _shewed_ me the door," said the doctor gravely but gracefully, +in his old fashion admirably maintained. + +"If one of you wasn't Endecott Linden," said Mr. Motley throwing the +end of his cigar overboard, "I should think you had made acquaintance +on a highway robbery." + +"Instead of which, it was in the peaceful town of Pattaquasset," said +Mr. Linden. + +"Permit me to request the reason of Mr. Motley's extraordinary guess," +said the doctor. + +"So natural to say where you've met a man--if there's no reason against +it," said the other coolly. "But you don't say it was in Pattaquasset, +doctor? Were _you_ ever there?" + +"Depends entirely on the decision of certain questions in +metaphysics,"--said the doctor. "As for instance, whether anything that +is, _is_--and the matter of personal identity, which you know is +doubtful. I know the _appearance_ of the place, Motley." + + +"Are there any pretty girls there?" said Mr. Motley, carelessly, but +keeping his eye rather on Mr. Linden than the doctor. + +"Mr. Linden can answer better than I," said Dr. Harrison, whose eye +also turned that way, and whose tone changed somewhat in spite of +himself. "There are none there that could not answer any question about +Mr. Linden."-- + +"By the help of a powerful imagination," said the person spoken of. Mr. +Motley looked from one to the other. + +"I don't know what to make of either of you," he said. "Why doctor, +Endecott Linden is a--a mere--I don't like to call him hard names, and +I can't call him soft ones! However--to be sure--the cat may look at +the king, even if his majesty won't return the compliment. Well--you +and I were never thought hard-hearted, so I'll tell you my story. Did +it ever happen--or _seem_ to happen, doctor--that you, _seeming_ to be +in Pattaquasset, went--not to church--but along the road therefrom? +Preferring the exit to the entrance--as you and I too often do?" + +"It has seemed to happen to me,"--said Dr. Harrison, as if mechanically. + +"Well--George Alcott and I--do you know George?--no great loss--we were +kept one Sunday in that respectable little town by a freshet. Whether +it was one of those rains that bring down more things from the sky than +water, I don't know,--George declared it was. If it wasn't, we made +discoveries." + +"If you and George both used your eyes, there must have been +discoveries," said Mr. Linden. "Did you take notice how green the grass +looked after the rain? and that when the clouds were blown away the sun +shone?" + +"You're not all theology yet!" said Mr. Motley. "Be quiet--can't you? +I'm not talking to you. We were sauntering down this same road, +doctor--after church,--falling in with the people, so that we could see +them and be taken for churchgoers. But there wasn't much to see.--Then +George declared that here was the place where Linden had secluded +himself for nobody knows what,--then we fell naturally into lamenting +the waste of such fine material, and conned over various particulars of +his former life and prospects--the great promise of past years, the +present melancholy mania to make money and be useful. Upon which points +George and I fought as usual. Then we grew tired of the subject and of +the mud--turned short about--and beheld--what do you suppose, doctor?" + +"How far you had come for nothing?" + +"Imagine," said Mr. Motley, taking out a fresh cigar and a match and +proceeding to put them to their respective uses,--"Imagine the vision +that appeared to Balaam's ass--and how the ass felt." + +"Nay, that we cannot do," said Mr. Linden. "You tax us too far." + +"In both requisitions--" added the doctor. + +"There stood," said Mr. Motley, removing his cigar and waving it +gracefully in one hand. "There stood close behind us on the mud--she +could not have been in it--an immortal creature, in mortal merino! +We--transfixed, mute--stepped aside right and left to let her pass,--I +believe George had presence of mind enough to take off his hat; and +she--'severe in youthful beauty', glorious in youthful blushes--walked +on, looking full at us as she went. But such a look! and from such +eyes!--fabulous eyes, doctor, upon my honour. Then we saw that the +merino was only a disguise. Imagine a search warrant wrapped up in +moonbeams--imagine the blending of the softest sunset reflection with a +keen lightning flash,--and after all you have only words--not those +eyes. Linden!--seems to me your imagination serves you better +here,--your own eyes are worth looking at!" + +"It has had more help from you," Mr. Linden said, controlling the +involuntary unbent play of eye and lip with which he had heard the +description. + +"Well, George raved about them for a month," Mr. Motley went on, "and +staid in Pattaquasset a whole week to see them again--which he didn't; +so he made up his mind that they had escaped in the train of events--or +of ears, and now seeks them through the world. Some day he will meet +them in the possession of Mrs. Somebody--and then hang himself." And +Mr. Motley puffed out clouds of smoke thereupon. + +"According to your account, he could not do better," said the doctor +cynically. + +"I suppose the world would get on, if he did," said Mr. Motley with +philosophical coolness. "But the queerity was," he added, removing the +cigar once more, "what made her look at us so? Did she know by her +supernatural vision that we had not been to church?--for I must say, +Linden, she looked like one of your kind. Or were her unearthly ears +charmed by the account of your unearthly perfections?--for George and I +were doing the thing handsomely." + +"It was probably that," said Mr. Linden. "Few people, I think, can +listen to your stories unmoved." + +"Hang it," said Mr. Motley, "I wish I could!--This vixenish old craft +is behaving with a great deal too much suavity to suit my notions. I +don't care about making a reverence to every wave I meet if they're +going to tower up at this rate. But I guess you're right, Linden--the +description of you can be made quite captivating--and her cheeks glowed +like damask roses with some sort of inspiration. However, as George +pathetically and poetically remarks, + + 'I only know she came and went!'-- + +the last part of which illustrious example I shall follow. Linden, if +any story don't move _you_, you're no better than the North Cape." + +"Can you stand it?"--asked the doctor suddenly of his remaining +companion. + +"Yes--I have known Motley a long time." + +"Pshaw! no, I mean this wind." + +"I beg your pardon! Yes--for anything I have felt of it yet." + +"If you will excuse me, I will get something more on. I have come from +a warmer part of the world lately." + +The doctor disappeared, and found something in another part of the boat +to detain him. + +Dr. Harrison had stood one conversation, but he had no mind to stand a +second. He did not think it necessary. If by any possibility he could +have put himself on board of another steamer, or packet; or have leaped +forward into France, or back into America!--he would have done it. But +since he must see Mr. Linden from time to time in their present +situation, he contrived that that should be all. Even that was as +seldom and as little as possible; the art _not to see_, Dr. Harrison +could practise to perfection, and did now; so far as he could without +rendering it too obviously a matter of his own will. That would not +have suited his plans. So he saw his one-time friend as often as he +must, and then was civil invariably, civil with the respect which was +Dr. Harrison's highest degree of civility and which probably in this +instance was true and heartfelt; but he was cool, after his slight gay +surface manner, and even when speaking kept at a distance. For the +rest, it is notable, even in so small a space as the walls of a steamer +shut in, how far apart people can be that have no wish to be near. Days +passed that saw at the utmost only a bow exchanged between these two; +many days that heard but one or two words. Mr. Linden's own plans and +occupations, the arrangement of his time, helped to further the +doctor's wish. There was many an hour when Dr. Harrison would not have +found him if he had tried, but when they were really together the +non-intercourse was the doctor's fault. For all that had been, Mr. +Linden was still his friend,--he realized more and more every day the +value of the prize for which Dr. Harrison had played and lost; and pity +had made forgiveness easy. He was ready for all their old kindly +intercourse, but seeing the doctor shunned him there was nothing to do +but follow the lead. Sometimes indeed they came together for a few +minutes--were thrown so--in a way that was worse than hours of talk. + +The Vulcan had made about half her passage, and a fair, fresh morning +had brought most of the passengers on deck. Mr. Linden was not there, +but the rest were grouped and watching the approach of a homeward bound +steamer; when as she neared them Mr. Linden too came on deck. It was to +talk with the Captain however, not the passengers--or to consult with +him, for the two stood together speaking and smiling. "You can try," +Dr. Harrison heard the Captain say; and then he lifted his trumpet and +hailed--the other Captain responding. Still the steamer came on, nearer +and nearer,--still the two on the deck of the Vulcan stood side by +side; till at a certain point, just where the vessels were at the +nearest, Captain Cyclops gave his companion a little signal nod. And +Mr. Linden stepping forward a pace or two, lent the whole power of his +skill and strength to send a despatch on board the Polar Bear. The +little packet sped from his hand, spinning through the air like a dark +speck. Not a person spoke or moved--Would it reach?--would it +fail?--until the packet, just clearing the guards, fell safe on the +deck of the other vessel, was picked up by her Captain and proclaimed +through the speaking trumpet. Slightly raising his hat then, Mr. Linden +drew back from his forward position; just as a shout of delighted +acclaim burst from both the boats. + +"That went with a will, I tell _you!_" said Captain Cyclops with a +little nod of his head. + +"I say, Linden!" spoke out one of the young men--"is that your heart +you sent home?" + +"I feel it beating here yet," Mr. Linden answered. But just how much of +it he carried back to his state-room for the next hour has never been +ascertained. Society had no help from Dr. Harrison for more than that +length of time. Neither could proximity nor anything else make him, +visibly, aware of Mr. Linden's existence during the rest of the day. + +Mr. Linden knew the doctor too well--and it maybe said, knew Faith too +well--to be much surprised at that. If he could have spared Dr. +Harrison the pain of seeing his little air-sent missive, he would have +done it; but the letter could go but at one time, and from one side of +the ship--and just there and then Dr. Harrison chose to be. But though +the sort of growing estrangement which the doctor practised sprang from +no wish nor feeling but his own, yet Mr. Linden found it hard to touch +it in any way. Sometimes he tried--sometimes he left it for Time's +touching, which mends so many things. And slowly, and gently, _that_ +touch did work--not by fading one feeling but by deepening another. +Little as Dr. Harrison had to do with his friend, almost every one else +in the ship had a good deal, and the place which Mr. Linden soon took +in the admiration as well as the respect of the passengers, could not +fail to come to the doctor's notice. Men of very careless life and +opinions pruned their language in his presence,--those who lived but +for themselves, and took poor care of what they lived for, passed him +reverently on some of his errands through the ship. Dr. Harrison had +never lived with him before, and little as they saw each other, you +could as well conceal the perfume of a hidden bunch of violets--as well +shut your senses to the spring air--as could the doctor shut his to the +beauty of that well-grown Christian character. The light of it shone, +and the influence of it went forth through all the ship. + +"What a strange, incomprehensible, admirable fellow, Linden is!" said +Mr. Motley one day when he and the doctor were sunning themselves in +profound laziness on deck. It was rather late Sunday afternoon, and the +morning service had left a sort of respectful quietness behind it. + +"He must be!" said the doctor with a slight indescribable +expression,--"if at this moment you can be roused to wonder at +anything." + +Mr. Motley inclined his head with perfect suavity in honour of the +doctor's words. + +"It's a glorious thing to lie here on deck and do nothing!" he said, +extending his elegantly clad limbs rather more into the distance. "How +fine the breeze is, doctor--what do you think of the day, as a whole?" + +"Unfinished, at present,--" + +"Well--" said Mr. Motley,--"take that part of it which you with such +precision term 'this moment',--what do you think of it as it appears +here on deck?" + +"Sunny--" said the doctor,--"and we are flies. On the whole I think +it's a bore, Motley." + +"What do you think of the Black Hole of Calcutta, in comparison?" said +Mr. Motley closing his eyes. + +"The difference is, that _that_ would have been an insufferable bore." + +Mr. Motley smiled--stroking his chin with affectionate fingers. "On the +whole," he said, "I think you're right in that position. What do you +suppose Linden's about at this moment?" + +"Is he your ward?" said the doctor. + +"He's down below--" said Mr. Motley with a significant pointing of his +train of remarks. "By which I don't mean! that he's left this +planet--for truly, when he does I think it will be in a different +direction; but he's down in the steerage--trying to get some of those +creatures to follow him." + +"Which way?" + +"You and George Alcott have such a snappish thread in you!" said Mr. +Motley yawning--"only it sits better on George than it does on you. But +I like it--it rather excites me to be snubbed. However, here comes +Linden--so I hope they'll not follow him _this_ way." + +"This way" Mr. Linden himself did not come, but chose another part of +the deck for a somewhat prolonged walk in the seabreeze. The doctor +glanced towards him, then moved his chair slightly, so as to put the +walker out of his range of vision. + +"He's a good fellow enough," he remarked carelessly. "You were pleased +to speak of him just now as 'incomprehensible'--may I ask how he has +earned a title to that?" The tone was a little slighting. + +"Take the last instance--" said Mr. Motley,--"you yourself were pleased +to pronounce the steerage a more insufferable bore than the deck--yet +he chooses it,--and not only on Sundays. I don't believe there's a day +that he don't go down there. He's popular enough without it--'tisn't +that. And nobody knows it--one of the sailors told me. If he was a +medico, like you, doctor, there'd be less wonder--but as it is!--" and +Mr. Motley resigned himself again to the influence of the sunshine. A +moment's meditation on the doctor's part, to judge by his face, was +delectable. + +"There isn't any sickness down there?" he said then. + +"Always is in the steerage--isn't there?" said Mr. Motley,--"I don't +know!--the surgeon can tell you." + +"There's no occasion,--" said the doctor with a little haughtiness. "He +knows who I am." + +And Dr. Harrison too resigned himself, apparently, to the sunny +influences of the time and was silent. + +But as the sun went down lower and lower, Mr. Motley roused himself up +and went off to try the effect upon his spirits of a little cheerful +society,--then Mr. Linden came and took the vacant chair. + +"How beautiful it is!" he said, in a tone that was half greeting, half +meditation. The start with which Dr. Harrison heard him was skilfully +transformed into a natural change of position. + +"Beautiful?--yes," said he. "Has the beauty driven Motley away?" + +"He is gone.--Your waves are very dazzling to-night, doctor." + +"They are helping us on," said the doctor looking at them. "We shall be +in after two days more--if this holds." + +Helping us on--perhaps the thought was not unqualified in Mr. Linden's +mind, for he considered that--or something else--in grave silence for a +minute or two. + +"Dr. Harrison," he said suddenly, "you asked me about my course--I wish +you would tell me yours. Towards what--for what. You bade me call +myself a friend--may I use a friend's privilege?" He spoke with a +grave, frank earnestness. + +The doctor's face shewed but a small part of the astonishment which +this speech raised. It shewed a little. + +"I can be but flattered!--" he said with something of the old graceful +medium between play and earnest. "You ask me what I am hardly wise +enough to answer you. I am going to Paris, and you to Germany. After +that, I really know about as much of one 'course' as of the other." + +"My question referred, not to the little daily revolutions, but to the +great life orbit. Harrison, what is yours to be?" + +Evidently it was an uneasy question. Yet the power of influence--or of +associations--was such that Dr. Harrison did not fling it away. "I +remember," he said, not without some bitterness of accent--"you once +did me the honour to profess to care." + +"I do care, very much." And one of the old looks, that Dr. Harrison +well remembered--said the words were true. + +"You do me more honour than I do myself," he said, not so lightly as he +meant to say it. "I do not care. I see nothing to care for." + +"You refuse to see it--" Mr. Linden said gently and sorrowfully. + +Dr. Harrison's brow darkened--it might be with pain, for Mr. Linden's +words were the echo of others he had listened to--not long ago. In a +moment he turned and spoke with an impulse--of bravado? Perhaps he +could not have defined, and his companion could not trace. + +"I refuse to see nothing!--but I confess to you I see nothing +distinctly. What sort of an 'orbit' would you propose to me?" + +The tone sounded frank, and certainly was not unkind. Mr. Linden's +answer was in few words--"'To them who by patient continuance in well +doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life'." + +Dr. Harrison remained a little while with knitted brow looking down at +his hands, which certainly were in an order to need no examination. +Neither was he examining them. When he looked up again it was with the +frankness and kindliness both more defined. Perhaps, very strange to +his spirit, a little shame was at work there. + +"Linden," he said, "I believe in you! and if ever I enter upon an orbit +of any sort, I'll take up yours. But--" said he relapsing into his +light tone, perhaps of intent,--"you know two forces are necessary to +keep a body going in one--and I assure you there is none, of any sort, +at present at work upon me!" + +"You are mistaken," said Mr. Linden,--"there are two." + +"Let's hear--" said the doctor without looking at him. + +"In the first place your conscience, in the second your will." + +"You have heard of such things as both getting stagnant for want of +use--haven't you?" + +"I have heard of the one being half choked by the other," said Mr. +Linden: + +"It's so warm this afternoon that I can't contradict you. What do you +want me to do, Linden?" + +"Let conscience do its work--and then you do yours." + +A minute's silence. + +"You do me honour, to believe I have such a thing as a +conscience,"--said the doctor again a little bitterly. "I didn't use to +think it, myself." + +He was unaware that it was that very ignored principle which had forced +him to make this speech. + +"My dear friend--" Mr. Linden began, and he too paused, looking off +gravely towards the brightening horizon. "Then do yourself the honour +to let conscience have fair play," he went on presently,--"it is too +delicate a stream to bear the mountain torrents of unchecked will and +keep its clearness." + +"Hum!--there's no system of drainage that ever I heard of that will +apply up in those regions!" said the doctor, after again a second's +delay to speak. "And you are doing my will too much honour now--I tell +you it is in a state of stagnation, and I don't at present see any +precipice to tumble down. When I do, I'll promise to think of you--if +that thought isn't carried away too.--Come, Linden!" he said with more +expression of kindliness than Mr. Linden had seen certainly during all +the voyage before,--"I believe in you, and I will!--though I suppose my +words do seem to you no better than the very spray of those torrents +you are talking about. Will you walk?--Motley put me to sleep, but you +have done one good thing--you have stirred me to desire action at +least." + +It was curious, how the power of character, the power of influence, had +borne down passion and jealousy--even smothered mortification and +pride--and made the man of the world speak truth. Mr. Linden rose--yet +did not immediately begin the walk; for laying one hand on the doctor's +shoulder with a gesture that spoke both regard and sorrow and entreaty, +he stood silently looking off at the colours in the west. + +"Dr. Harrison," he said, "I well believe that your mother and mine are +dear friends in heaven--God grant that we may be, too!" + +Then they both turned, and together began their walk. It lasted till +they were summoned to tea; and from that time till they got in there +was no more avoidance of his old friend by the doctor. His manner was +changed; if he did not find enjoyment in Mr. Linden's society he found +somewhat else which had value for him. There was not again a shade of +dislike or of repulsion; and when they parted on landing, though it +might be that there lay in Dr. Harrison's secret heart a hope that he +might never see Mr. Linden again, there lay with it also, as surely, a +secret regret. + +Now all that Faith knew of this for a long time, was from a newspaper; +where--among a crowd of unimportant passengers in the Vulcan's +list--she read the names of Dr. Harrison and J. E. Linden. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + + + +Faith and her mother sat alone at breakfast. About a fortnight of grave +quiet had followed after the joyous month that went before, with little +enlivening, few interruptions. Without, the season had bloomed into +greater luxuriance,--within, the flowers now rarely came; and Faith's +flowerless dress and belt and hair, said of themselves that Mr. Linden +was away. Roses indeed peeped through the windows, and thrust their +heads between the blinds, but no one invited them in. + +Not so peremptorily as the roses--and yet with more assurance of +welcome--Reuben Taylor knocked at the door during breakfast time; +scattering the abstract musings that floated about the coffee-pot and +mingled with its vapoury cloud. + +"Sit down, Reuben," said Faith jumping up;--"there's a place for +you,--and I'll give you a plate." To which Reuben only replied, "A +letter, Miss Faith!"--and putting it in her hands went off with quick +steps. On the back of it was written, up in one corner--"Flung on board +the Polar Bear, by a strong hand, from steamship Vulcan, half way +across." + +There was no need of flowers now truly in the house, for Faith stood by +the table transformed into a rose of summer joy. + +"Mother!" she exclaimed,--"It's from sea--half way across."-- + +"From sea!--half way across--" her mother repeated. "Why child, what +are you talking about? You don't mean that Mr. Linden's contrived to +make a letter swim back here already, do you?" + +Faith hardly heard. A minute she stood, with her eyes very like what +Mr. Motley had graphically described them to be, breaking the seal with +hurried fingers,--and then ran away. The breakfast table and Mrs. +Derrick waited--they waited a long time before Faith came back to eat a +cold breakfast, which tasted of nothing but sea-breezes and was +therefore very strengthening. The strengthening effect went through the +day; there was a fresh colour in Faith's face. Fifty times at least the +"moonbeams" of her eyes saw a "strong hand" throw her packet across the +sea waves that separated the two steamers; the master of the "Polar +Bear" might guess, but Faith knew, that a strong heart had done it as +well. And when her work was over Faith put a rose in her belt in honour +of the day, and sat down to her books, very happy. + +The books were engrossing, and it was later than usual when she came +down stairs to get tea, but Mrs. Derrick was out. That wasn't very +strange. Faith went through the little routine of preparation,--then +she took another book and sat down by the sweet summer air of the open +window to wait. By and by Mrs. Derrick came slowly down the road, +opened and shut the gate with the same air of abstracted +deliberateness, and came up the steps looking tired and flushed. In the +porch Faith met and kissed her. + +"Where have you been now, mother? tea's ready." + +"Pretty child!" was Mrs. Derrick's answer, "how glad I am you got that +letter this morning!" + +Faith smiled; _she_ didn't forget it, but it was not to be expected +that it should be quite so present to Mrs. Derrick's mind. Yet almost +at the same instant she felt that her mother had some particular reason +for saying that just then. + +"Where have you been, mother?" + +"Up to Squire Stoutenburgh's," said Mrs. Derrick, putting herself +wearily in the rocking-chair,--"and they were all out gone--to Pequot +to spend the day. So I lost my labour." + +Gently Faith stood before her and took off her bonnet. "What did you go +there for, mother?" + +"I wanted to see him--" said Mrs. Derrick. "Squire Deacon's been here, +Faith." + +"Mother! Is he back again?--What for?" + +"Settle here and live, I suppose. He's married--that's one thing. What +was he here for?--why the old story, Faith,--he wants the place." And +Mrs. Derrick's eyes looked as if she wanted it too. + +"Does he want it very much, mother?" + +"Means to have it, child--and I don't feel as if I could live in any +other house in Pattaquasset. So I thought maybe Mr. Stoutenburgh would +make him hold off till next year, Faith," said Mrs. Derrick, a little +smile coming back to her lips. "I guess I'll go up again after tea." + +Faith coaxed her mother into the other room and gave her her tea +daintily; revolving in her mind the while many things. When tea was +over and Mrs. Derrick was again bent upon business, Faith ventured a +question. "Mother, what do you suppose Squire Stoutenburgh can do to +help us?" + +"I can't tell, child,--he might talk Sam Deacon into letting us keep +the house, at least. We've got to live somewhere, you know, Faith. It's +no sort of use for me to talk to him,--he's as stiff as a crab +tree--and I aint. I think I'll try." + +"To-night, mother?" + +"I thought I would." + +Faith hesitated, putting the cups together. "Mother, I'll go. I dare +say I shall do as well." + +"I'm afraid you're tired too, pretty child," said Mrs. Derrick, but +with evident relief at the very idea. + +"I tired?--Never," said Faith. "You rest, mother--and don't fear," she +added, kissing her. "I'll put on my bonnet--and be there and back again +in a little while." + +The summer twilight was falling grey, but Faith knew she could have a +guardian to come home; and besides the road between the two houses was +thickly built up and perfectly safe. The evening glow was almost gone, +the stars faintly gleaming out in the blue above; a gentle sea breeze +stirred the branches and went along with Faith on her errand. Now was +this errand grievously unpleasing to Faith, simply because of the +implication of that _one year_ of reprieve which she must ask for. How +should she manage it? But her way was clear; she must manage it as she +could. + +Spite of this bugbear, she had gone with a light free step all along +her road, walking rather quick; for other thoughts had kept her +company, and the image of her little flying packet shot once and again +through her mind. At length she came to Mr. Stoutenburgh's gate, and +Faith's foot paused. Light shone through the muslin curtains; and as +her step neared the front door the broken sounds of voices and laughter +came unwelcomely through. A most unnecessary formality her knock was, +but one of the children came to the door and ushered her at once into +the tea-room, where the family were waiting for their late tea. Mrs. +Stoutenburgh--looking very pretty in her light summer dress--was half +reclining on the sofa, professing that she was tired to death, but +quite failing to excite any sympathy thereby in the group of children +who had not seen her since morning. The Squire himself walked leisurely +up and down, with his hands behind him, sometimes laughing at the +children sometimes helping on their play. Through the room was the full +perfume of roses, and the lamplight could not yet hide the departing +glow of the western horizon. Into this group and atmosphere little +Linda brought the guest, with the simple announcement, "Mother, it's +Miss Faith." + +"Miss Faith!" Mrs. Stoutenburgh exclaimed, starting up and dispersing +the young ones,--"Linda, you shall have a lump of sugar!--My dear other +child, how do you do?--and what sweet corner of your little heart sent +you up here to-night? You have not--no, that can't be,--and you +wouldn't come here if you had. But dear Faith, how are you?"--and she +was rescued from the Squire and carried off to the sofa to answer at +her leisure. With a sort of blushing, steadfast grace, which was common +with her in the company of friends who were in her secret, Faith +answered. + +"And you haven't had tea yet,"--she said remorsefully. "I came to give +Mr. Stoutenburgh some trouble--but I can do it in three minutes." Faith +looked towards the Squire. + +"My dear," he said, "it would take you three years!" + +"But Faith," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh--"here comes the tea, and you can't +go home without Mr. Stoutenburgh,--and nothing qualifies him for +business like a contented state of his appetite!" + +Faith laughed and sat down again, and then was fain upon persuasion to +take a place at the table, which was a joyous scene enough. Faith did +little but fill a place; her mind was busy with thoughts that began to +come pressingly; she tried not to have it seem so. + +"My dear," said the Squire as he helped Faith to raspberries, "what +fine weather we have had, eh?" + +"Beautiful weather!"--Faith responded with a little energy. + +"Papa," said one of the children, "do you think Mr. Linden's had it +fine too?" + +"What tangents children's minds go off in!" observed Mrs. Stoutenburgh. +"Faith! don't eat your raspberries without sugar,--how impatient you +are. You used to preach patience to me when I was sick." + +"I can be very patient, with these raspberries and no sugar," said +Faith, wishing she could hide the bloom of her cheeks as easily as she +hid that of the berries under the fine white shower. + +"Poor child!" said her friend gently,--"I think you have need of all +your patience." And her hands came softly about Faith's plate, removing +encumbrances and adding dainties, with a sort of mute sympathy that at +the moment could find no more etherial channel. "Mr. Stoutenburgh drove +down to Quapaw the other day," she went on in a low voice, "to ask +those fishing people what indications our land weather gave of the +weather at sea; and--he couldn't half tell me about his visit when he +came home," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, breaking short off in her account. +"Linda, go get that glass of white roses and set it by Miss +Faith,--maybe she'll take them home with her." + +Faith looked at the white roses and smelled their sweetness; and then +she said, "Who did you see, Mr. Stoutenburgh?--down at Quapaw?" + +"None of the men, my dear--they were all away, but I saw half the rest +of the village; and even the children knew what report the men had +brought in, and what _they_ thought of the weather. Everybody had a +good word to say about it, Miss Faith; and everybody--I do believe!" +said the Squire reverently, "had been on their knees to pray for it. +Jonathan Ling's wife said that was all they could ever do for him." +Which pronoun, be it understood, did not refer to Jonathan Ling. + +"They're Mr. Linden's roses, Miss Faith," said little Linda, who stood +waiting for more marked admiration,--"do you like them? He always did." + +Faith kissed the child, partly to thank her and to stop her lips, +partly to hide her own which she felt were tale-telling. + +"Where did you get the roses, Linda?" + +"O off the bush in the garden. But Mr. Linden always picked one +whenever he came, and sometimes he'd stop on his way to school, and +just open the gate and get one of these white roses and then go away +again. So we called it Mr. Linden's bush." Faith endeavoured to attend +to her raspberries after this. When tea was over she was carried off +into the drawing-room and the children were kept out. + +"If you want me away too, Faith," Mrs. Stoutenburgh said as she +arranged the lamp and the curtains, "I'll go." + +"I don't want you to go, ma'am."--And then covering her trepidation +under the simplest of grave exteriors, Faith spoke to the point. "It is +mother's business. Squire Deacon has come home, Mr. Stoutenburgh." + +"My dear," said the Squire, "I know he has. I heard it just before you +came in. But he's married, Miss Faith." + +"That don't content him," said Faith, "for he wants our farm." + +"Rascal!" said Mr. Stoutenburgh in an emphatic under tone,--"the old +claim, I suppose. What's the state of it now, my dear?" + +"Nothing new, sir; he has a right to it, I suppose. The mortgage is +owing, and we haven't been able to pay anything but the interest, and +that must be a small rent for the farm." Faith paused. Mrs. +Stoutenburgh was silent; looking from one to the other anxiously,--the +Squire himself was not very intelligible. + +"Yes"--he said,--"of course. Your poor father only lived to make the +second payment. I don't know why I call him poor--he's rich enough now. +But Sam Deacon!--a small rent? too much for him to get,--and too +little.--Why my dear!" he said suddenly sitting up straight and facing +round upon Faith, "I thought--What does your mother expect to do, Miss +Faith?--has she seen Sam? What does he say?" + +"He came to see her this afternoon, sir--he is bent upon having the +place, mother says. And she don't like to leave the old house," Faith +said slowly. "He will take the farm, I suppose,--but mother thought, +perhaps, sir--if you would speak to Mr. Deacon, he would let us stay in +the house--only the house without anything else--for another year. +Mother wished it--I don't know that your speaking to him could do any +good." Faith went straight through, but the rosy colour sprung and grew +till its crimson reached her forehead. Not the less she went clearly +through with what she had to say, her eyes only at the last words +drooping. Mr. Stoutenburgh rose up with great energy and stood before +her. + +"My dear," he said, "he shall do it! If it was any other man I'd +promise to make him do more, but Sam always must have some way of +amusing himself, and I'm afraid I can't make this as expensive as the +last one he tried. You tell your mother, Miss Faith, that she shall +stay in her house till she'd rather go to yours. I hope that won't be +more than a year, but if it is she shall stay." + +"That's good, Mr. Stoutenburgh!" said his wife with a little clap of +her hands. + +Whether Faith thought it was 'good' might be a question; her eyes fell +further, she did not offer to thank Mr. Stoutenburgh for his energetic +kindness, nor to say anything. Yet Faith had seemingly more to say, for +she made no motion to go. She sat quite still a few minutes, till +raising her eyes fully to Mr. Stoutenburgh's face she said gravely, +"Mother will feel very glad when I tell her that, sir." + +"She may make herself easy But tell her, my dear," said the Squire, +again forgetting in his earnestness what ground he was on,--"tell her +she's on no account to tell Sam _why_ she wants to stay. Will you +recollect that, Miss Faith?" + +Faith's eyes opened slightly. "I think he must know--or guess it, Mr. +Stoutenburgh? Mother says she could hardly bear to live in any other +house in Pattaquasset." + +"My dear Miss Faith!" said Mr. Stoutenburgh,--"I mean!--why she don't +want to stay any longer. _That's_ what Sam mustn't know. I'm very +stupid about my words, always." + +Faith was again obliged to wait a few minutes before she could go on. +Mrs. Stoutenburgh was the first to speak, for the Squire walked up and +down, no doubt (mentally) attacking Mr. Deacon. + +"I'm so glad!" she said, with the old dance of her eyes--and yet a +little sigh too. "So glad and so happy, that I could cry,--I know I +shall when the time comes. Dear Faith, do you feel quite easy about +this other business now?" + +"What, ma'am?--about Mr. Deacon?" + +"Why yes!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing,--"isn't that the only one +you've been uneasy about?" + +"I am not uneasy now," said Faith. "But Mr. Stoutenburgh--if Mr. Deacon +takes the farm back again, whom does the hay belong to, and the cattle, +and the tools and farm things?" + +"All that's _on the land_--all that's growing on it, goes with it. All +that's under cover and moveable belongs to you." + +"Then the hay in the barn is ours?" + +"Everything in the barn." + +"There's a good deal in the barn," said Faith with a brightening face. +"You know the season has been early, sir, and our hay-fields lie well +to the sun; and a great deal of the hay is in. Mr. Deacon will want +some rent for the house I suppose,--and I guess there will be hay +enough to pay it, whatever it is. For I can't sell my cows!--" she +added laughing a little. + +Her two friends--the Squire on the floor and his wife on the +sofa--looked at her and then at each other. + +"My dear," the Squire began, "I want to ask you a question. And before +I do, let me tell you--which perhaps you don't know--just what right +I"-- + +"Oh Mr. Stoutenburgh!" cried his wife, "do please hush!--you'll say +something dreadful." + +"Not a bit of it--" said the Squire,--"I know what to say this time, my +dear, and when to stop. I wanted to tell you, Miss Faith, that I am +your regularly appointed guardian--therefore if I ask questions you +will understand why." But what more on that subject the Squire might +have said, and said not, was left to conjecture. Faith looked at him, +wondering, colouring, doubting. + +"I never heard of it before, sir," she said. + +"You shouldn't say _regularly_, Mr. Stoutenburgh," said his +wife,--"Faith will think she is to be under your control." + +"I shouldn't say _legally_," said the Squire, "and I didn't. No she +aint under my control. I only mean, Miss Faith," he said turning to +her, "that I am appointed to look after your interests, till somebody +who is better qualified comes to do it." + +"There--Mr. Stoutenburgh,--don't go any further," said his wife. + +"Not in that direction," said the Squire. "Now my dear, if Sam Deacon +will amuse himself in this way, as I said, what will you do? Do the +farm and the house about counterbalance each other most years?" + +Faith never knew how she separated the two parts of her nature enough +at this moment to be practical, but she answered. "We have been able to +pay the interest on the mortgage, sir, every year. That's all. Mother +has not laid up anything." + +The Squire took a turn or two up and down the room, then came and stood +before her again. "My dear," he said, "you can't tell just yet what +your plans will be, so I won't ask you to-night, but you had better let +me deal with Sam Deacon, and the new tenant, and the hay, and +everything else. And you may draw upon me for something more solid, to +any amount you please." + +"Something more solid than yourself!--O Mr. Stoutenburgh!" his wife +said, though her eyes were bright with more than one feeling. + +Faith was silent a minute, and then gave Mr. Stoutenburgh a full view +of those steady eyes that some people liked and some did not care _just +so_ to meet. + +"No, sir!--" she said with a smile and also a little wistful look of +the gratitude she did not speak,--"if the hay will pay the rent, I +don't want anything else. Mother and I can do very well. We will be +very much obliged to you to manage Mr. Deacon for us--and the hay. I +think I can manage the rest. I shall keep the cows and make +butter,"--she said with a laughing flash of the eye. + +"O delicious!" cried Mrs. Stoutenburgh, "(I mean the butter, +Faith)--but will you let me have it?" + +"You don't want it," said Faith. + +"I do!--nobody makes such butter--I should eat my breakfast with a new +appetite, and so would Sam. We never can get butter enough when he's in +the house. I'll send down for it three times a week--how often do you +churn, Faith?" + +Faith came close up to her and kissed her as she whispered laughingly, +"Every day!" + +"Then I'll send every day!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh clapping her hands. +"And then I shall hear of you once in a while.--Ungrateful child, you +haven't been here before since--I suppose it won't do to say when," she +added, kissing Faith on both cheeks. "I shall tell Mr. Linden it is not +benevolent to pet you so much." + +"But my dear--my dear--" said the Squire from one to the other. "Well, +well,--I'll talk to you another time, Miss Faith,--I can't keep up with +more than one lady at once. You and Mrs. Stoutenburgh have gone on +clean ahead of me." + +"What's the matter, Mr. Stoutenburgh?" said Faith. "I would like to +hear it now, for there is something I want settled." + +"What's that?" said the Squire. + +"Will you please go on, sir?" + +"I guess I'll hear you first," said the Squire. "You seem to know just +what you want to say, Miss Faith, and I'm not sure that I do." + +"You said we had gone on ahead of you, sir. Shall we go back now?" + +"Why my dear," said the Squire smiling, "I thought you two were +settling up accounts and arrangements rather fast, that's all. If they +are the beginning and end, _that's_ very well; but if they're only +premonitory symptoms, that again's different." + +"And not 'very well'?" said Faith, waiting. + +"Not very," said Mr. Stoutenburgh shaking his head. + +"How should it be better, sir?" + +"My dear, in general, what is needless can be spared." + +"I don't know what I am going to do, Mr. Stoutenburgh. I am going to do +nothing needless, not wilfully needless. But I am going to do it +_without help_." She stood before him, with perfect gentleness but with +as clear determination in both look and manner, making her meaning +known. Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughed, the Squire stood looking at her in a +smiling perplexity. Finally went straight to the point. + +"Miss Faith, it is doubly needless that you should do anything more +than you've been doing--everybody knows that's enough. In the first +place, my dear, you are your father's child--and that's all that need +be said, till my purse has a hole at both ends. In the next +place--shall I tell her what she is in the next place, Mrs. +Stoutenburgh?" + +"I fancy she knows," said his wife demurely. + +"Well," said the Squire, "the next place is the first place, after all, +and I haven't the right to do much but take care of her. But my dear, I +have it under hand and seal to take better care than that." + +"Than what, sir?"--said Faith with very deep colour, but unchanged +bearing. + +"I don't know yet," said Mr. Stoutenburgh, "any more than you know what +you are going to do. Than to let you do anything that would grieve your +dear friend and mine. If I could shew you the letter you'd understand, +Miss Faith, but I'm not good at repeating. 'To take care of you as lie +would'--that was part of it. And because I can't half carry out such +instructions, is no sign I shouldn't do it a quarter." And the Squire +stood as firm on his ground as Faith on hers. + +No, not quite; for in her absolute gentleness there was a power of +intent expressed, which rougher outlines could but give with less +emphasis. The blood spoke for her eloquently before Faith could find +any sort of words to speak for herself, brought now by more feelings +than one; yet still she stood before the Squire, drooping her head a +little, a soft statue of immoveability. Only once, just before she +spoke, both Faith's hands went up to her brow to push the hair back; a +most unusual gesture of agitation. But her look and her words were +after the same steady fashion as before, aggravated by a little wicked +smile, and Faith's voice sounded for sweetness like silver bells. + +"You can't do it, Mr. Stoutenburgh!--not that way. Take care of me +every other way;--but I'll not have--of that sort--a bit of help."-- + +The Squire looked at her with a mixture of amusement and perplexity. + +"Pin to follow suit--" he said,--"but then I don't just know what Mr. +Linden would do in such a case! Can you tell me, Miss Faith?" + +"It is no matter--it would not make any difference." + +"What would not?" said the Squire innocently. + +"Anything that he could do, sir;--so you have no chance." She coloured +gloriously, but she smiled at him too with her last words. + +"Well, Miss Faith," said Mr. Stoutenburgh, "I have my doubts as to the +correctness of that first statement; but I'll tell you what _I_ shall +do, my refractory young lady. If you set about anything outside the +limits, I'll do my best to thwart you,--there!" + +If Faith was not a match for him, there was no meaning in the laugh of +her dark eye. But she only bade Mrs. Stoutenburgh an affectionate good +night, took her bunch of white roses and Mr. Stoutenburgh's arm and set +out to go home. + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + + + +Faith put her roses in water and listened half a minute to their +strange silent messages. But after that she did a great deal of +thinking. If all went well, and Mr. Linden got home safe from +abroad,--and _this_ year were all she had to take care for, it was a +very little matter to keep the year afloat, and very little matter, in +her estimation, whatever she might have to do for the purpose. But +those "ifs" no mortal could answer for. Faith did not look much at that +truth, but she acted upon it; prayed over her thoughts and brought her +plans into shape in very humble consciousness of it. And at the early +breakfast the next morning she began to unfold them; which as Mrs. +Derrick did not like them, led on to a long talk; but Faith as usual +had her way. + +After some preliminary arrangements, and late in the day, she set off +upon a long walk to Miss Bezac's. The slant beams of the summer sun +were again upon the trim little house as Faith came up towards it. +Things were changed since she was there before! changed a good deal +from the gay, joyous playtime of that visit. Mr. Linden in Europe, and +she--"It is very well," thought Faith; "it might not have been good for +me to have too much of such a time. Next year"-- + +Would if it brought joy, bring also an entering upon real life-work. +Faith knew it; she had realized long before with a thought of pain, +that this summons to Europe had perhaps cut short her last time of +absolute holiday pleasure. Mr. Linden could hardly now be more than a +few days in Pattaquasset before "next year" should come--and Faith did +not stop to look at that; she never thought of it three minutes +together. But life-work looked to her lovely;--what did not? Even the +little pathway to Miss Bezac's door was pleasant. She was secretly glad +of that other visit now, which had made this one so easy; though yet a +sympathetic blush started as she went in. + +"Why Faith!" said Miss Bezac,--"you're the _very_ person I was thinking +of, and the very one I wanted to see! though I always do want to see +you, for that matter, and don't often get what I want. Then I don't +generally want much. But what a beautiful visit we had last time! Do +you know I've been conjuring ever since how your dress should be made? +What'll it be, to begin with?--I always do like to begin with that--and +it's bothered me a good deal--not knowing it, I mean. I couldn't +arrange so well about the making. Because making white satin's one +thing, and muslin's another,--and lace is different from 'em both--and +indeed from most other things except spider's webs." All which pleasant +and composing sentiments were uttered while Miss Bezac was clearing a +chair for Faith, and putting her in it, and laying her various pieces +of work together. + +"I shouldn't be the least bit of help to you," said Faith who couldn't +help laughing. "Can't it wait?" + +"Why it'll have to," said Miss Bezac; "he said it must,--but that's no +reason I should. I always like a reason for everything. It took me an +age and a quarter to find out why Miss Essie De Staff always will wear +aprons. She wears 'em out, too, in more ways than one, but that's good +for me. Only there's so many ways of making them that I get in a +puzzle. Now this one, Faith--would you work it with red flowers or +green?--I said black, but she will have colours. You've got a good +colour to-day--O don't you want some bread and milk?" said Miss Bezac, +dropping the apron. + +"No, thank you!" said Faith laughing again,--"not to-day. I should work +that with green, Miss Bezac." + +"But I'm afraid green won't do, with black above and black below," said +Miss Bezac. "Two sides to things you know, Faith,--aprons and all the +rest. I'd a great mind to work it with both, and then she couldn't say +she'd rather have had 'tother. What things I _have_ worked in my +day!--but my day's twilight now, and my eyes find it out." + +"Do you have more to do than you can manage, generally?" said Faith. + +"Why no, child, because I never take any more,--that's the way not to +have things--troubles or aprons. I could have my hands full of both, +but what's the use?--when one hasn't eyes--for sewing or crying. Mrs. +Stoutenburgh comes, and Mrs. Somers, and Miss Essie--and the landlord, +and sometimes I let 'em leave me a job, and sometimes I don't,--send +'em, dresses, and all, off to Quilipeak." + +"Then I'll tell you what you shall give me to-day--instead of bread and +milk;--some of the work that you would send off. Don't you remember," +said Faith, smiling quietly at Miss Bezac's eyes,--"you once promised +to teach me to embroider waistcoats?" + +"Why yes!" said Miss Bezac--"and so I will. But, my dear, are you sure +he would wear it?--and after all, isn't it likely he'll get everything +of that sort he wants, in Paris? And then the size!--who's to tell what +that should be? To be sure you could do the fronts, and have them made +up afterwards--and of course he _would_ wear anything you made.--I'll +go right off and get my patterns." + +Faith's confusion was startled. It was Miss Bezac's turn to look at +her. She caught hold of the seamstress and brought her back to +listening at least. + +"Stop!--Miss Bezac!--you don't understand me. I want work!--I want +work. I am not talking of making anything for anybody!--" Faith's eyes +were truthful now, if ever they were. + +"Well then--how can you work, if you won't make anything for anybody? +Want work, Faith?--you don't mean to say all that story about Sarn +Deacon's _true?_ Do you know," said Miss Bezac, dropping into a chair +and folding her hands, "when I heard that man had gone out of town, I +said to myself, it would be a mercy if he never came back!"--which was +the severest censure Miss Bezac ever passed upon anybody. "I really +did," she went on,--"and now he's come, and I s'pose I've got to say +_that_'s a mercy too--and this,--though I wouldn't believe it last +night." + +"Then you have heard it?" + +"My ears did, and they're pretty good ears too,--though I do get out of +patience with them now and then." + +"It's true," said Faith, "and it's nothing very dreadful. Mother and I +have nothing to live upon but what I can make by butter; so I thought I +would learn and take work of you, if you had it for me. I could soon +understand it; and then you can let people bring you as much as they +will--what you cannot do, I will do. I could think of nothing so +pleasant;--no way to make money, I mean." + +For a minute Miss Bezac sat quite still,--then she roused up. + +"Nothing to live upon but butter!"--she said,--"well that's not +much,--at least if there's ever so much of it you want something else. +And what you want you must have--if you can get it. And I can get you +plenty of work--and it's a good thing to understand this sort of work +too, for he might carry you off to some random place where they wear +calico just as they can put it on--and that wouldn't suit you, nor him +neither. I don't believe _this_'ll suit him though--and it don't me, +not a bit. I'm as proud as a Lucifer match for anybody I love. But I'll +make you proud of your work in no time. What'll you do first? embroider +or stitch or cut out or baste or fit?" + +"What you please--what you think best. But Miss Bezac, what are you +'proud' about?" + +"O I've my ways and means, like other folks," said Miss Bezac. "And you +can do something more striking than aprons for people that don't need +'em. But I'm not going to give you _this_ apron, Faith--I sha'n't have +her wearing your work all round town, and none the wiser. See--this is +nice and light and pretty--like the baby it's for,--you like green, +don't you? and so will your eyes." + +"I'd as lieve have Miss Essie wear my work as eat my butter," said +Faith. "But," she added more gravely,--"I think that what God gives me +to do, I ought to be proud to do,--and I am sure I am willing. He knows +best." + +"Yes, yes, my dear--I believe that,--and so I do most things you say," +answered Miss Bezac, bringing forth from the closet a little roll of +green calico. "Now do you like this?--because if you don't, say so." + +"I'll take this," said Faith, "and the next time I'll take the apron. I +must do just as much as I can, Miss Bezac; and you must let me. Would +you rather have the apron done first? I want Miss Essie's apron, Miss +Bezac!" + +"Well you can't have it," said Miss Bezac,--"and what you can't, you +can't--all the world over. Begin slow and go on fast--that's the best +way. And I'll take the best care of you!--lay you up in lavender,--like +my work when it's done and isn't gone home." + +So laughingly they parted, and Faith went home with her little bundle +of work, well contented. + +A very few days had seen the household retrenchments made. Cindy was +gone, and Mr. Skip was only waiting for a "boy" to come. Mother and +daughter drew their various tools and conveniences into one room and +the kitchen, down stairs, to have the less to take care of; abandoning +the old eating-room except as a passage-way to the kitchen; and taking +their meals, for greater convenience, in the latter apartment. + +Faith did not shut up her books without some great twinges of pain; but +she said not one word on the matter. She bestowed on her stitching and +on her housework and on her butter the diligent zeal which used to go +into French rules and philosophy. But Mrs. Stoutenburgh had reckoned +without her host, for there was a great deal more of the butter than +she could possibly dispose of; and Judge Harrison's family and Miss De +Staff's became joint consumers and paid the highest price for it, that +Faith would take. But this is running ahead of the story. + +Some days after Faith's appeal to Mr. Stoutenburgh had passed, before +the Squire presented himself to report progress. He found both the +ladies at work in the sitting-room, looking very much as usual, except +that there was a certain not inelegant disposition of various pieces of +muslin and silk and ribbon about the room which carried the appearance +of business. + +"What rent will Mr. Deacon have, Mr. Stoutenburgh?" said Faith looking +up from her needle. + +"My dear, he'll have what he can get," said the Squire, "but what +_that_'ll be, Miss Faith, he and I haven't just made up our minds." + +"How much ought it to be, sir, do you think?" + +"Nothing at all," said the Squire,--"not a cent." + +"Do you think not, sir?" said Faith doubtfully. + +"Not a cent!" the Squire repeated,--"and I told him so, and said he +might throw the barn into the bargain and not hurt himself." + +"Will he agree to that, Mr. Stoutenburgh?--I mean about the house. We +can pay for it." + +"My dear, I hope to make him agree to that, and more too. So just let +the hay stand, and the house, and the barn, and everything else for the +present. I'll tell you time enough--if quarter day must come. And by +the way, talking of quarters, there's one of a lamb we killed +yesterday,--I told Tim to leave it in the kitchen. How does your ice +hold out?" + +"Do you want some, sir?" said Faith, in whose eyes there shone a soft +light the Squire could be at no loss to read. + +"No my dear, I don't--though Mrs. Stoutenburgh does tell me sometimes +to keep cool. But I thought maybe _you_ did. Do you know, Miss Essie De +Staff never sees me now if she can help it--what do you suppose is the +reason?" + +"I don't think there can be any, sir." + +"Must be!" said the Squire,--"always is a reason for every fact. You +know what friends we used to be,--it was always, 'Hush, Mr. +Stoutenburgh!' or, 'How do you know anything about it?' Ah, he's a +splendid fellow!--My dear, I don't wish to ask any impertinent +questions, but when you do hear that he's safe across, just let me +know--will you?" And the Squire bowed himself off without waiting for +an answer. + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + + + +Faith found that sewing and housework and butter-making took not only +her hands but her minutes, and on these little minute wheels the days +glided off very fast. She had plenty of fresh air, withal, for Mrs. +Stoutenburgh would coax her into a horseback ride, or the Squire take +her off in his little wagon; or Mrs. Derrick and Jerry go with her down +to the shore for clams and salt water. The sea breeze was more company +than usual, this summer. + +By the time August days came, there came also a letter from Europe; and +thereafter the despatches were as regular and as frequent as the +steamers. But they brought no special news as to the point of coming +home. Mrs. Iredell lingered on in the same uncertain state, neither +worse nor better,--there was no news to send. Everything else the +letters had; and though Faith might miss that, she could not complain. + +So the summer days slipped away peacefully; and when the mother and +daughter sat sewing together in the afternoon, (for Mrs. Derrick often +took some little skirt or sleeve) nobody would have guessed why the +needles were at work. + +There was one remarkable thing about the boy Reuben had found to supply +Mr. Skip's place--he was never visible. Nor audible either, for that +matter, except that Faith at her own early rising often heard the +wood-saw industriously in motion. He was not to sleep in the house for +the first month,--that had been agreed; but whether he slept anywhere +seemed a matter of doubt. A doubt Faith resolved to set at rest; and +one August morning, while the birds were a-twitter yet with their first +getting up and the sun had not neared the horizon, Faith crossed the +yard to the woodshed and stood in the open doorway,--the morning light +shewing the soft outlines of her figure in a dark print dress, and her +white ruffles, and gleaming on her faultlessly soft and bright hair. + +The woodshed was in twilight yet; its various contents shewing dimly, +the phoebe who had built her nest under the low roof just astir, but +the wood work was going on briskly. Not indeed under the saw--that lay +idle; but with the sort of noiseless celerity which was natural to him, +Reuben Taylor was piling the sticks of this or yesterday's cutting: the +slight chafing of the wood as it fell into place chiming with the low +notes of a hymn tune which Faith well remembered to have heard Mr. +Linden sing. She did not stir, but softly, as she stood there, her +voice joined in. + +For a minute Reuben did not hear her,--then in some pause of +arrangement he heard, and turned round with a start and flush that for +degree might have suited one who was stealing wood instead of piling +it. But he did not speak--nor even thought to say good morning; only +pushed the hair back from his forehead and waited to receive sentence. + +"Reuben!"--said Faith, stepping in the doorway. And she said not +another word; but in her eyes and her lips, even in her very attitude +as she stood before him, Reuben Taylor might read it all!--her +knowledge for whose love he was doing that work, her powerlessness of +any present means of thanks, and the existence of a joint treasury of +returned affection that would make itself known to him some day, if +ever the chance were. The morning sun gleamed in through the doorway on +her face, and Reuben could see it all there. He had raised his eyes at +the first sound of her voice, but they fell again, and his only answer +was a very low spoken "Good morning, Miss Faith." + +Faith sat down on a pile of cut sticks and looked up at him. + +"Reuben--what are you about?" + +"Putting these sticks out of the way, Miss Faith"--with a half laugh +then. + +"I shall tell Mr. Linden of you," (gravely.) + +"I didn't mean you should have a chance, Miss Faith." + +"Now you are caught and found--do you know what your punishment will +be?" + +Reuben looked up again, but did not venture to guess. + +"You will be obliged to come in and take a cup of coffee with me every +morning." + +"O that's not necessary!" Reuben said with a relieved face,--"thank you +very much, Miss Faith." + +"It is necessary," said Faith gravely;--"and you are not to thank me +for what you don't like." + +"It was partly for what I do like, ma'am," said Reuben softly pitching +up a stick of hickory. + +"It's so pleasant to have you do this, Reuben," said Faith, watching +him, "that I can't tell you how pleasant it is; but you must drink my +coffee, Reuben, or--I will not burn your wood! You know what Mr. Linden +would make you do, Reuben." Faith's voice lowered a little. Reuben did +not dispute the commands so urged, though a quick glance said that her +wish was enough. + +"But dear Reuben, who's coming when you're gone?" + +"Would you like Dromy Tuck, Miss Faith?--but I don't know that you ever +saw him. He's strong, and honest--he's not very bright. I'll find +somebody." And so the matter ended. + +August went on,--Reuben sawed his last stick of wood and eat his last +breakfast at Mrs. Derrick's, and then set forth for Quilipeak, to begin +his new life there. The little settlement at Quapaw was not alone in +feeling his loss,--Mrs. Derrick and Faith missed him every day. One of +Reuben's last doings in Pattaquasset, was the giving Dromy Tuck in +charge to Phil Davids. + +"Look after him a little, Phil," he said, "and see that he don't go to +sleep too much daytimes. He means to go straight, but he wants help +about it; and I don't want Mrs. Derrick to be bothered with him." Which +request, enforced as it was by private considerations, favoured Dromy +with as strict a censorship as he desired. + +From Germany news came at last,--but it was of the sort that one can +bear to wait for. Mrs. Iredell was not able to be moved nor certain to +get well. Mr. Linden could neither come with his sister nor from her. +And thus, hindered from getting home to his Seminary duties in America, +there was but one thing he could do--finish his course in a German +University. But that ensured his being in Europe the whole year! No +question now of fall or winter or spring,--summer was the first time +that could be even thought of; and in this fair September, when Faith +had been thinking of the possibility of his sudden appearance, he was +beginning his work anew in a foreign land. + +It came heavily at first upon her. Faith had not known how much she +counted on that hope or possibility. But now when it was gone she found +she had lost a large piece of her sunlight. She had read her letter +alone as usual, and alone she struggled with her sorrow. It cost Faith +for once a great many tears. Prayer was always her refuge. But at last +after the tears and the signs of them were gone, Faith went into her +mother's company again, looking wistful and as gentle and quiet. + +Perhaps it was well for Faith that her mother knew what this quiet +meant--it saved her countless little remarks of wonder and comment and +sorrow. More devoted to her Mrs. Derrick could not be, but she had her +own strong box of feeling, and there locked up all her sorrow and +anxiety out of sight. Yet it was some time before the little +sitting-room, with its scattered bits of work, could look bright again. + +"And I sha'n't see him again till----." It gave Faith a great pang. +That "next year" she never looked at much. She would have liked a +little more of those innocent play days which had been so unexpectedly +broken off. "Next year" looked serious, as well as glad. "But it is +good for me," she said to herself. "It must be good for me, to be +reminded to live on what cannot fail. I suppose I was getting to be too +very happy."--And after a few such talks with herself Faith went +straight on, for all that appeared, as peacefully as ever, and as +cheerfully. + +It was not long after this, that passing Mr. Simlins' gate one +afternoon, as she was coming home from a walk, Faith was hailed by the +farmer. She could not but stop to speak to him, and then she could not +prevent his carrying her off into the house. + +"'Twont hurt you to rest a minute--and 'twont hurt _me_," said he. "Why +I haint seen you since----How long do you s'pose folks can live and not +see moonshine? Now you pull off your bonnet, and I'll tell Mrs. Hummins +to give us something good for tea." + + +"What would mother do for hers, Mr. Simlins?" said Faith resisting this +invitation. + +"Well you can sit down anyhow, and read to me," said Mr. Simlins, who +had already taken a seat himself in preparation for it. "People can't +get along without light from one phenomenon or the other, you know, +Faith." + +She took off her bonnet, and brought the Bible. "What do you want, Mr. +Simlins?" her sweet voice said meaningly. + +"Fact is," said the farmer rather sorrowfully, "I s'pose I want about +everything! I don't feel to know much more'n a baby--and there aint +more'n three grains of corn to the bushel in our minister's preachin'. +I go to meetin' and come home with my head a little more like a bell +than 'twas; for there's nothing more in it but a ringin' of the words +I've heerd. Do you mind, Faith, when somebody--I don't know whether you +or I like him best--wanted me to try a new kind of farming?--you mind +it? I guess you do. It never went out o' _my_ head again, till I set +out to try;--and now I find I don't know nothin' at all how to work it!" + +"What is the trouble, dear Mr. Simlins?" said Faith looking up. + +The farmer hesitated, then said low and huskily, "I don't know what to +do about joinin' the church." + +"The Bible says, 'If a man love God, the same is known of him,'"--Faith +answered softly. + +"Well, but can't it be known of him without that? Fact is, Faith, I'm +afeard!"--and a rough hand was drawn across the farmer's eyes--"I'm +afeard, if I do, I'll do something I hadn't ought to do, and so only +just dishonour the profession--and I'd better not have anything to do +with it!" + +Faith turned back the leaves of the Bible. + +"Listen to what God said to Joshua, Mr. Simlins, when he was going to +lead the people of Israel over into a land full of enemies.-- + +'Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not +afraid, neither be thou dismayed.'" + + +"It's easy to say 'be strong'," said the farmer after pausing a +minute,--"but how are you going to contrive it?" + +Faith read from the Psalms; and her words fell sweeter every one. "'In +the day when I cried thou answeredst me, and strengthenedst me with +strength in my soul.' That is what David says, Mr. Simlins; and this is +Isaiah's testimony.--'They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their +strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and +not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.'" + +"Go ahead, Faith!"--said the farmer, who was sitting with his head down +in his hands. "You aint leavin' me much of a corner to hide in. Turn +down a leaf at them places." + +Faith was still again, turning over leaves. + +"Paul was in trouble once, Mr. Simlins, and prayed earnestly about +something; and this is what he says of the Lord's answer to him.--'And +he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is +made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in +my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.'--'When I am +weak, then am I strong.'--And in another place--'I can do all things +through Christ which strengtheneth me.'" + +"But he wa'n't much like me," said Mr. Simlins "he was an apostle and +had inspiration. I hain't none." + +"He was a man, though," said Faith, "and a weak one, as you see he +calls himself. And he prays for the Christians at Ephesus, that God +would grant them 'to be strengthened with might by his Spirit;' and +they were common people. And the Bible says 'Be strong in the Lord and +in the power of his might;'--we aren't bid to be strong in ourselves; +but here again, 'Strengthened with might, according to his glorious +power, unto all patience and long-suffering with joyfulness.' Won't +that do?" said Faith softly. + +"Have you put marks in all them places?" said the farmer. + +"I will." + +"If that don't do, I s'pose nothing will," said Mr. Simlins. "They're +mighty words! And they've stopped _my_ mouth." + +Faith was silently marking the places. The farmer sat looking at her. + +"You do know the Scripturs--I can say that for you!" he remarked. + +"No, Mr. Simlins!--" said Faith looking up suddenly, "I don't know this +string of passages of myself. Mr. Linden shewed them to me," she said +more softly and blushing. She went on with what she was about. + +"Well don't he say you like to speak truth rayther than anything else?" +said the farmer. "If he don't, I wouldn't give much for his discretion. +When's he going to have leave to take you away, Faith?" It was half +sorrowfully spoken, and though Faith rose up and blushed, she did not +answer him quickly. + +"My business must take me away now, sir;--good night." + +But Mr. Simlins shouted to Jem Waters, had the wagon up, put Faith in +with infinite care and tenderness, and sent her home so. + +One rainy, stormy, wild equinoctial day in the end of September--not +long after that letter had come, Squire Stoutenburgh came to the door. +Faith heard him parleying with her mother for a minute--heard him go +off, and then Mrs. Derrick entered the sitting-room, with her eyes full +of tears and her heart, at least, full of a little package,--it did not +quite fill her hands. + +"Pretty child!" she said, "I'm so thankful!"--and she went straight off +to the kitchen, and the little package lay in Faith's lap. The thick +brown paper and wax and twine said it had come a long way. The rest the +address told. It was a little square box, the opening of which revealed +at first only soft cotton; except, in one corner, there was an +indication of Faith's infallible blue ribband. Fastened to that, was a +gold locket. Quite plain, alike on both sides, the tiny hinge at one +edge spoke of a corresponding spring. That touched, Faith found Mr. +Linden. Admirably well done and like, even to the expression, which had +probably struck the artist's fancy; for he had contrived to represent +well both the pleasure and the pain Mr. Linden had felt in sitting for +this picture, for such a reason. The dress was that of the German +students--such as he was then wearing. + +Faith had never guessed--till her wondering fingers had persuaded the +locket to open--she had never guessed what she should find there; at +the utmost she looked to find a lock of hair; and the joy was almost as +overwhelming as a little while ago pain had been. Faith could hardly +see the picture for a long time; she called herself foolish, but she +cried and laughed the harder for joy; she reproached herself for past +ungratefulness and motions of discontent, which made her not deserve +this treasure; and the joy and the tears were but enhanced that way. +Faith could hardly believe her eyes, when they were clear enough to +see; it seemed,--what they looked at,--too good to be true; too +precious to be hers. But at last she was fain to believe it; and with +blushes that nobody saw, and a tiny smile that it was a pity somebody +_didn't_ see, she put the blue ribband round her neck and hid the +locket where she knew it was expected to find its place. But Faith +forgot her work, and her mother found her sitting there doing nothing, +looking with dreamy happy thoughtfulness into distance, or into +herself; all Miss Bezac's silks and stuffs neglected around her. + +And work, diligent, happy, contented, continued, was the order of the +day, and of many days and weeks after. Miss Bezac giving out that she +would take as much work as was offered her, she and Faith soon had both +their hands completely full. The taste and skill of the little +dressmaker were so well acknowledged that even from Pequot there was +now many an application for her services; and many a lady from there +and from Pattaquasset, came driven in a wagon or a sleigh to Miss +Bezac's cottage door. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + + + +It was the month + + "When beechen buds begin to swell, + And woods the blue bird's warble know,"-- + +the month of the unbending of Nature--of softening skies and swelling +streams and much underground spring work. As for instance, by the +daffodils; which by some unknown machinery pushed their soft, pliant +leaves up through frozen clods into the sunshine. Blue birds fluttered +their wings and trilled their voices through the air, song sparrows +sang from morning to night, and waxwings whistled for cherries in the +bare tree tops. There the wind whistled too, "whiles," with the fall +approbation of snow birds and chickadees,--the three going out of +fashion together. + +It was a busy month at Miss Bezac's--two weddings at Pequot and one in +Pattaquasset kept her hands full,--and Faith's too. Just now the great +point of interest was the outfit of Miss Maria Davids--the wedding +dress, especially, being of the most complicate and ornamented +description. Miss Bezac and Faith needed their heads as well as their +hands, Miss Maria's directions with regard to flowers and furbelows +being somewhat like the Vicar of Wakefield's in respect of sheep--only +Miss Maria was willing to pay for all that went on, whereas the Vicar +wanted the sheep for nothing. + +Thus they stood, the two friends and co-workers, with the dress spread +out on a table, contriving where the flowers should go and how many it +would be possible to put on. Miss Maria's box of Pequot flowers on a +chair near by, was as full as her directions. + +"It would be better to take the box and turn it right over her after +she's dressed, and let 'em stick where they would!" said Miss Bezac in +some disgust. Whereupon, dropping her grave look of thought, Faith's +laugh broke up the monotony of the occasion. + +"Well _that's_ good any way," said Miss Bezac. "And I'm sure +everything's 'any way' about this dress. But I won't have you about it +a bit longer,--you're tired to death standing up." + +"I'm not much tired. Miss Bezac, let the lilacs have the bottom of the +dress, and the roses and lilies of the valley trim the body.--And it +will be like a spotted flower-garden then!" said Faith laughing anew. + +How little like her occupation she looked,--with her brown stuff dress, +to be sure, as plain as possible; her soft brown hair also plain; her +quaint little white ruffles; and that brilliant diamond ring flashing +wherever her hand went! N.B. A plain dress on a pretty person has not +the effect of plainness, since it lets that better be seen which is the +highest beauty. + +Up Miss Bezac's mountain road came a green coach drawn by two fat grey +horses; the coachman in front and the footman behind being in the same +state of plethoric comfort. They addressed themselves to the hill with +no hasty approbation yet with much mind to have their own way, and the +hill yielded the ground step by step. At Miss Bezac's door hill and +horses made a pause. + +"Coaches already!" said Miss Bezac,--"that's a sign of summer, as good +as wild geese. And you'd think, Faith, not having had much experience, +that it was the sign of another wedding dress--but nothing worse than a +calico wrapper ever comes out of a coach like that." + +"Why?"--said Faith looking amused. + +"The people that drive such coaches drive 'em to town for a wedding +dress," said Miss Bezac sagely. "There's a blue bird getting out of +this one, to begin with." + +While she spoke, a tiny foot emerged from the coach, and after it a +dress of blue silk, which so far from "standing alone" followed softly +every motion of the wearer. A simply plain shirred spring bonnet of +blue and white silk, made the blue bird comparison not altogether +unapt,--the bird was hardly more fair and dainty in his way than the +lady in hers. She stood still for a minute, shading her eyes with her +hand, and looking off down the road; a slight, delicate figure, with +that sort of airy grace which has a natural poise for every +position,--then she turned abruptly and knocked at the door. + +Now it was Miss Bezac's custom to let applicants open and shut for +themselves, her hands being often at a critical point of work; so in +this case, with a refractory flower half adjusted--while Faith was in +the intricacies of a knot of ribband, she merely cried, "Come in!" And +the young lady came--so far as across the threshold,--there she +stopped. A quick, sudden stop,--one little ungloved hand that looked as +if it had never touched anything harsher than satin, clasped close upon +its gloved companion; the shawl falling from her shoulders and shewing +the bunch of crocuses in her belt; the fair, sweet, high bred +face--sparkling, withal flushing like a June rose. For a minute she +stood, her bright eyes seeing the room, the work, and Miss Bezac, but +resting on Faith with a sort of intenseness of look that went from face +to hand. Then her own eyes fell, and with a courteous inclination of +her head, she came for ward and spoke. + +"I was told," she said, advancing slowly to the table, and still with +downcast eyes,--"I was told that--I mean--Can you make a sunbonnet for +me, Miss Bezac?" She looked up then, but only at the little dressmaker, +laying one hand on the table as if to support herself, and with a face +grave enough to suit a nun's veil instead of a sunbonnet. + +Faith's eyes were held on this delicate little figure with a sort of +charm; she was very unlike the Pattaquasset models. At the antipodes +from Miss Essie De Staff--etherial compared to the more solid +proprieties of Sophy Harrison,--Faith recognized in her the type of +another class of creatures. She drew back a little from the table, +partly to leave the field clear to Miss Bezac, partly to please herself +with a better view. + +"A sunbonnet?" Miss Bezac repeated,--"I should be sorry if I couldn't, +and badly off too. But I'm afraid you'll be, for a pattern,--all I've +got are as common as grass. Not that I wish grass was uncommon, +either--but what's the stuff?" + +"When I came out this morning," said the lady, glancing at Faith and +then down again, "I did not expect to come here. And--I have brought no +stuff. Can you send some one down to the village?--this young lady, +perhaps.--May I take her with me now?" + +"Why of course you may!" said Miss Bezac delightedly.--"Just as much as +if I was glad to get rid of her--which I aint,--and am too,--for she's +tired to death, and I was just wishing somebody that wasn't would take +her home. Or some horses." + +There was a sweet amused play of the lips in answer to this lucid +statement of facts, and then turning towards Faith, the stranger said, +"Will you go?"--the words were in the lowest of sweet tones. + +"Where do you wish me to go?" said Faith, coming a step forward. + +"With me--down into the village." + +"I will go," said Faith. "Then I will take these two mantillas, Miss +Bezac,--and you shall have them the day after to-morrow." + +The straw bonnet and shawl were put on in another minute, and not +waiting for her gloves she followed the "blue bird" to the carriage, +rather pleased with the adventure. + +The little ungloved hand took firm hold of hers as they stepped out of +Miss Bezac's door, and but that the idea was absurd Faith would have +thought it was trembling. Once in the carriage, the two side by side on +the soft cushions, the orders given to the footman, the coach rolling +smoothly down the hill, the stranger turned her eyes full upon Faith; +until the tears came too fast, quenching the quivering smile on her +lips. Her head dropped on Faith's shoulder, with a little cry of, +"Faith, do you know who I am?" + +A sort of whirlwind of thoughts swept over Faith--nothing definite; and +her answer was a doubtful, rather troubled, "No."-- + +"I know who you are!" said the stranger. "You are Mignonette." + +"Who told you so?" said Faith, drawing back from her to look. + +"Some one who knew!"--the face was lovely in its April of mischief and +tears. + +Faith's face grew very grave, with doubt, and bewilderment, and growing +certainty, and drew yet further off. Rosy blushes, more and more +witchingly shy, chased in and out of her cheeks; till obeying the +certainty which yet was vague, Faith's head stooped and her two hands +covered her face. She was drawn back into the stranger's arms, and her +hands and face (what there could) were covered with kisses. + +"Faith, is it strange your sister should know?--and why don't you let +me have the rest of your face to kiss?--I haven't half seen it yet. And +I'm sure Endy would not like to have his message delivered in these out +of the way places." + +Even as she spoke, the hands quitted the face, veiled only by the +rosiest consciousness; and laying both hands on the stranger Faith gave +her warm kisses--on cheeks and lips; and then looked at her, with eyes +alternately eager and shy, that rose and fell at every new stir of +feeling. + +"How did you come here?"--she said with a sort of soft breathlessness. +The eyes that looked at her were as intent, a little laughing, a little +moved. + +"How did I come here?--Faith, I knew you at the first glance,--how came +you not to know me?" + +"I--could not!" said Faith. "How came you here?" + +"Here? in Pattaquasset--how I love the name! Faith, I shall expect you +to take me to every place where Endecott set his foot when he was here." + +Faith's eye gave a little answering flash. "I don't believe I know them +all. Then--" she checked herself--"But how did you come here? You--were +in Germany." + +"Then what?--please answer me first." + +How Faith blushed!--and laughed; but she grew very grave almost +immediately. + +"Please answer me!" she said. + +"Yes, I was there--and I could not help coming here," Miss Linden +answered. "To leave him there, after all! But I could not help it, +Faith. When he determined to spend the year there--and I never saw him +look so grave over a determination--it was for one reason alone. You +know what?" + +Faith did not assent nor dissent, but her eyes were swallowing every +word. + +"It seemed then as if it might not much lengthen his absence, and would +ensure its being the last. And by-the-by, fair ladye, Endecott said I +might make the most of you before he got home; for _then_ he meant to +have you all to himself for six months, and nobody else should have a +sight of you." + +As far as they could go, Faith's eyes fell; and her new sister might +study the fair face and figure she had not had so good an opportunity +of studying before. Perfectly grave, and still to her folded hands. + +"After he was fairly launched in his work," Miss Linden went on, "Aunt +Iredell began slowly to grow better; and as the winter passed she took +the most earnest desire to come home--to America. Nothing could shake +it; and the doctors approved and urged that there should be no delay. +Then, Faith, _I_ would have stayed,--but she was exceedingly dependent +upon me, and most of all, Endecott said I ought to come. I believe he +was glad to think of my being here for another reason. He came with us +to Paris--it happened just then that he _could come_--and put us on +board the steamer. But we were three days in Paris first,--O such +pretty days!" she added smiling. "I'll tell you about them another +time." + +The downcast eyes were lifted and rested for a minute on the sparkling +face before them. If a little warm light in their glance meant that all +was "pretty" about which those two had to do, it said part at least of +what was in Faith's mind. + +"Now I am to be your neighbour for a while," said Miss Linden. "Aunt +Iredell was ordered out of town at once, and last night we came up to +Pequot,--so you must not wonder if you see me every other day after +this. O how good it is to see you! Do you know," she said, wrapping her +arms round Faith again, and resting the soft cheeks and lips upon hers, +"do you know how much I have to say of this sort, for somebody else?" + +"You are not going back to Pequot to-day?" said Faith softly. + +"May I stay in Pattaquasset till to-morrow?" + +"If I can take good enough care of you!" said Faith, kissing her half +gladly, half timidly. + +"And may I go home with you now?" + +"Where are we going?" said Faith looking out. + +"My dear, you ought to know! but I do not. I told them to drive about +till I gave contrary orders. Now you must give them." And the check +string brought the horses to a stand and the footman ditto. A half +minute's observation enabled Faith to give directions for reaching the +main Pattaquasset road and taking the right turn, and the carriage +rolled on again. There was a little pause then, till Faith broke it. A +rich preparatory colour rose in her cheeks, and the subject of her +words would certainly have laughed to see how gravely, with what +commonplace demureness, the question was put. + +"Was Mr. Linden well, when you came from Germany?" + +"Faith!" was his sister's prompt reply. Faith's glance, soft and +blushing, yet demanded reason. Whereupon Miss Linden's face went into a +depth of demureness that was wonderful. "Yes my dear, Mr. Linden was +well--looking well too, which is an uncommon thing with him." + +"Is it?"--said Faith somewhat wistfully. + +"Not in the way I mean," said her new sister smiling,--"I thought +nothing could have improved his appearance but--Mignonette. And I +suppose he thought so himself, for he was never seen without a sprig of +the little flowers." + +Faith's look in answer to that was given to nothing but the ground, and +indeed it was worthy to have been seen by only one person. + +"Faith," said Miss Linden suddenly, "are there many French people in +Pattaquasset?" + +"No,--not any. Why?" + +"Because Endecott gave me a message to you, part of which I did not +understand. But I suppose you will, and that is enough." + +"What is it?" said Faith eagerly. + +"You would not understand the other part, to-day." + +Faith went back to her thoughtfulness But as the carriage turned into +the Pattaquasset high street she suddenly faced round on Miss Linden, +flushing again before she spoke. + +"Pet," she said a little timidly--it was winning, this air of timidity +that was about her,--"don't say--don't tell Mr. Linden where you found +me." + +"Faith! does he not know? is it something new? O dear child, I am very +sorry!"--and Miss Linden's other hand came caressingly upon the one she +held. + +"Don't be sorry!--" said Faith, looking as fearless and sonsy as any +real piece of mignonette that ever shook its brown head in the +wind;--"I wouldn't tell you, only you must see it. You know, perhaps, +that mother lived by a farm.--Last summer the farm was taken away and +we had nothing left but the house. We had to do something, and I took +to dressmaking with Miss Bezac--where you found me. And it has been +very pleasant and has done very well," said Faith, smiling at Miss +Linden as honestly as if the matter had been of music lessons or any +other accomplishment. Miss Linden looked at her--grave and bright too. +Then with a sparkle of her eyes--"I won't tell Endecott now, but some +time I _will_ tell him over what sort of a wedding-dress I found you +poring. But my dear child!--" and she stopped with a look of sudden +thought that was both grave and gay. Faith's eyes asked what the matter +was. + +"No, I will not tell him now," Miss Linden repeated,--"it is so little +while--he could not know it in time for anything but his own sorrow. +But Faith! I am going to make one of those mantillas!"--and she looked +a pretty piece of defiant resolution. + +"You shall do what you please," Faith said gayly. "But--will you stop +them?--there is the house." + +The coach came to a stand before Mrs. Derrick's little gate and the two +ladies alighted. Miss Linden had been looking eagerly out as they drove +up--at the house, the fence, the little garden courtyard, the +steps,--but she turned now to give her orders, and taking Faith's hand +again, followed her in, looking at every inch of the way. Faith drew +the easy-chair out before the fire, put Miss Linden in it, and took off +her bonnet and shawl. She staid but to find her mother and introduce +her to the parlour and her guest; and she herself ran away to Mr. +Linden's room. She knew that the brown woodbox was near full of wood +which had been there since his sudden departure nine months ago. It was +well dried by this time. Faith built a fire and kindled it; made the +bed, and supplied water and towels; opened the blinds of one or two +windows, laid books on the table, and wheeled up the couch. The fire +was blazing by that time and shone warm and glowingly on the dark wood +and furniture, and everything wore the old pleasant look of comfort and +prettiness. Then Faith went for her guest. + +"You will know where you are," she said a little vaguely,--"when you +open the cupboard doors." + +Miss Linden stood still for a moment, her hands folded, her lips again +taking their mixed expression. + +"And _that_ is where he lay for so long," she said. It was a mixed +remembrance to Faith; she did not like to answer. A moment's silence, +and she turned her bright face to Miss Linden. + +"Let me do what I can for you," she said with that mixture of grace and +timidity.--"It isn't much. What may I now, Pet?" + +"You did a lifetime's work then, you dear child!--and how I used to +hear of it." And putting her arm round Faith's waist Miss Linden began +to go slowly about the room, looking at everything--out of the windows +and into the cupboards. "If you could have known, Faith--if you could +have seen Endecott in some of the years before that, you would have +known a little how very, very glad I was. I hardly believed that he +would ever find any one who could charm him out of the solitary life +into which sorrow had led him." + +"I didn't do it!" said Faith simply. + +"What do you suppose did?" + +"I think he charmed himself out of it,"--Faith said blushing. + +Miss Linden laughed, holding her very fast. "You are clear from all +charge of malice prepense," she said. "And I will not deny his powers +of charming,--but they are powerless upon himself." + +"Do you think so?" said Faith. "A charm comes at the rebound, doesn't +it sometimes?" + +"_Does_ it? How do I know?" + +Faith laughed a little, but very softly. "Now shall I leave you for a +little while?" she said. + +"Will you be busy, or may I come down when I like?" + +"I am going into the kitchen,--You wouldn't like to follow me there?" + +"If I have leave--I am in the mind to follow you everywhere." + +"Come then!" said Faith joyously. + +Miss Linden might not be accustomed to seeing kitchens, or she might! +there was no telling from her manner. Certainly that kitchen was a +pleasant one to see. And she "followed," as she had said, wherever +Faith went and watched her whatever she did, conversation going on +meanwhile amusingly enough. Faith was making some cakes again; and then +concocting coffee, the Pattaquasset fete dish in ordinary; while Mrs. +Derrick broiled the chicken. With a great white apron enveloping her +brown stuff dress, and her arms bared, running about the kitchen and +dairy in her quick still way, Faith was a pretty contrast to the "blue +bird" who smiled on her and followed her and talked to her throughout. +Then the cakes were baking, and Faith came back to the sitting-room; to +set the table and cover it with all dainty things that farm materials +can produce. And if ever "Pet" had been affectionately served, she was +that night, and if ever a room was fresh and sweet and warm and +glowing, the fire-lit room where she went to sleep afterwards was such +a one. + +But before that, when they had done tea, and talk and motion had +subsided a little, Miss Linden brought a low seat to Faith's side, and +taking that left hand in hers looked silently at the ring for a few +minutes,--then laid her cheek down upon it in Faith's lap. Faith's lip +trembled; but she only sat still as a statue till the cheek was lifted +up. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + + + +In the early morning which Faith and her mother enjoyed next day +together, Mrs. Derrick was in a contemplative and abstracted state of +mind; assenting indeed to all Faith's words of pleasure and praise, but +evidently thinking of something else. At last the matter came out. + +"Faith, how much money have we?--I mean, to last how long, suppose you +didn't do anything else but the butter?" + +"Why, mother?" + +"Why child, I've been thinking--do you know how much you've got to do +for yourself?--it won't do to put that off for Miss Bezac." + +Faith's lips softly touched Mrs. Derrick's. + +"Hush, mother, please!--Don't you think Dromy could find some +water-cress at the foot of the Savin hill?" + +"Yes--like enough," said Mrs. Derrick,--"Reuben could if he was here. +And child, you may say 'hush,' but things won't hush, after all." With +which sentiment Mrs. Derrick gave attention to the tea-kettle, just +then a practical illustration of her remark. + +About as bright and fresh and sweet as the morning Miss Linden looked +when she came down, but warmer and gentler than March in his best mood. +Her interest in everything about the house and its two tenants was +unbounded, and without being really like her brother, there was enough +family likeness in manner and voice to give a pleasant reminder now and +then. While they were at breakfast the man came from Pequot according +to order, but she went out alone to attend to him, coming back to the +table with a sort of gleeful face that spoke of pleasure or mischief in +prospect. + +"Faith," she said, "we cannot touch those mantillas this morning." + +"Can't we?" said Faith. "Which part of Pattaquasset shall we go to see?" + +"Suppose we go up to my room and discuss matters."-- + +Faith was ready. Ready as a child, or as the "bird" she used to be +called, for any innocent play or work. + +"My dear little sister," said Miss Linden as they ran up stairs, the +glee working out at the dainty finger ends that were on Faith's belt, +"don't you know that I promised you a 'message'? and don't you want to +have it?--O how lovely this room is! That trunk is not lovely, standing +just there. Dear Faith, you need not think all my baggage is coming +after it!" + +"I wish it could,"--said Faith, looking after her "message." + +"I want to shew you the key of this--it has something peculiar about +it," said Miss Linden searching in her bag. "Endecott said, Faith, that +as you and he had been together so much in a French atmosphere, you +must let him do one thing in the French style. To which message, as +well as to the trunk, you will find this the key." + +Now attached to the key was a little card, on which was written simply +the word, "Trousseau." + +Faith understood the word well enough, and it seemed to turn her into a +pretty petrifaction--with internal life at work indeed, as the rising +and falling colours witnessed. She stood with bended head looking at +the mysterious key; then making a swift transit to the window she +opened it and threw back the blinds and stood looking out, the key in +one hand giving little impatient or abstracted taps against the fingers +of the other. It was a pretty landscape certainly, but Faith had looked +at it often before. + +Miss Linden on her part followed Faith to the window with her eyes and +a smile, then sat looking at the great leathern trunk in its travelling +cover, which it wore still. Once she made a motion to take this +off--then laid her hands back in their former position and waited for +Faith to come. + +"Pet," said Faith presently,--"have you looked out of the window this +morning?" Which question brought two hands round her shoulders in no +time. + +"Yes my dear, I have. What new beauties have you discovered?" + +"It looks pretty in the spring light.--But I wasn't thinking of it, +either," said Faith blushing. And without raising her eyes, looking +distressed, she softly insinuated the key with its talismanic card back +into Miss Linden's hand. + +"Well? what, dear Faith?" + +"I don't know,"--said Faith softly. "You know." + +"I know,"--said Miss Linden, "that Endecott locked the trunk and tied +the label to the key, and it is a great mistake to suppose that I will +unlock the one or take charge of the other. In the second place, I need +not even look on unless you wish. It can go to another room, or I will +leave you in undisturbed possession of this. So speak," she said, +kissing her. + +Faith did not immediately. She wound her arms round her new sister and +hid her face in Miss Linden's neck, and stood so clasping her silently +for a few minutes. But when she raised her head she went straight to +the "trousseau" trunk; pulled off, business fashion, the travelling +cover; set the key in the lock, and lifted the lid. + +"I should tell you, dear," said Miss Linden while this was doing--she +had seated herself a little way off from Faith and the trunk, "I should +tell you, that if it had been possible to get a pattern dress and so +forth, you would have found nothing here to do _but_ look. As it is, +there is some work for your fingers, and I hope for mine." The lid was +now open, and between the two next protecting covers lay a letter. A +recognizing flash of eye greeted that; Faith put it out of sight and +lifted the second cover. From where she sat Miss Linden could see her +hand tremble. + +There were two or three characteristics that applied to the whole +arrangement, choice, and filling of the "trousseau." The absence of +things useless was not more notable than the abundance of things +useful; and let not useful be understood to mean needful,--for of the +little extras which are so specially pleasant to those who never buy +them for themselves, there was also a full supply. The daintiness of +everything was great, but nothing was out of Faith's line: the stuffs +might be finer than she had always worn, but the colours were what she +had always liked, and in any one of those many dresses she might feel +at home in five minutes--they suited her so well. She could see, well +enough, that Mr. Linden not only remembered "her style" but loved +it,--in the very top rack, that was first laid open, she had proof of +this--for besides the finest of lawn and cambric, there were dainty +bands of embroidery and pieces of lace with which Faith could ruffle +herself to her heart's content. + +At this point Faith drew a rather quick breath. She was on her knees +before the trunk, and shielding her face a little from Miss Linden, she +sat looking in--steadfastly at bits of French needlework and lappings +of the daintier texture, lifting now and then, also daintily--the end +or fold of something to see what lay underneath. There was so much food +for meditation, as well as for industry, in this department, that Faith +seemed not likely to get through it. How clearly she saw any one thing +might be doubted. She made no progress. + +"You may see Endecott in everything, Faith," said Miss Linden. "In the +matter of quantity I could sometimes give him help, but every colour +and style had to be matched with the particular pattern in his mind. I +wish you could have seen it!--it was one of the prettiest things I ever +saw. Those three days in Paris!--I told you they were pretty days." + +Faith gave her a swift look, very flushed and very grave. A pretty +picture of wonder and humility she was; and something more was borne +witness to by those soft eyes, but Miss Linden had only a second's look +of them. + +The racks seemed to hold the light varieties, each done up by itself. +There was the little French parasol in its box; the fan box, with most +pretty contents. There was the glove box, beautifully filled, and +holding among the rest the prettiest of riding gauntlets--all of just +the right size, by some means. At the other end to keep this in +countenance, was a little French riding hat in its own pasteboard +container. The riding whip Mr. Linden had given her long before. There +were stockings in pretty variety; and handkerchiefs--not laced and +embroidered, but of fine material and dainty borders. The various minor +things were too many to mention. + +Faith was in an overwhelmed state, though she hardly shewed that. Her +fingers made acquaintance almost fearfully with the various items that +lay in sight; finally she laid both hands upon the edge of the rack. + +"It is exactly like him!--" she said in profound gravity. His sister +laughed--a gay, pleased little laugh. + +"_He_ said they were all like you, Faith. His fear of touching your +individuality was comical. Do you know he says he shall expect you +always to have a brown merino?--so you will find one there." + +But first, at the bottom of the rack, under all the others, was the +flat mantilla box; and its contents of muslin and silk, in their +elegant simpleness, left Miss Bezac's "nowhere". How Faith would have +liked to shut up the trunk then and run away--nobody knew! For she only +quietly lifted out the rack and took the view of what came next. It was +not the brown merino!--it was something made up,--the gayest, +prettiest, jauntiest dressing gown; with bunches of tiny carnations all +over it, as bright as Faith's own. Though that be saying much, for at +this hers reached their acme. + +"How beautiful--" she said gravely, while her poor fluttering thoughts +were saying everything else. "How perfectly beautiful!--" + +And as delicately as if it had been made of silver tissue, Faith laid +it off on the rack. Laid it off to find the next stagc in the shape of +morning wrappers, also made up. "They fit so loosely at best--" Miss +Linden explained,--"and Endecott knew your height." + +Now neither in these nor in what lay beneath was there such profusion +as would furnish a new dress every day (for an indefinite number) at a +watering place; but there was just such as befitted a young lady, who +being married in summer-days yet looked forward to winter, and was to +be the delight of somebody's eyes summer and winter. + +They were downcast and wonderfully soft eyes that looked at those +morning dresses now,--as Miss Linden could see when by chance they were +lifted. But that was not generally; with lowered eyelids and unsteady +lips Faith went on taking out one after the other. Below, the packages +were more solid and compact, some close at both ends, others shewing +shawl fringes. Dress after dress lay in close order--muslin and silk +and stuff; under them pieces of linen and flannel such as Pattaquasset +could hardly have furnished. One particular parcel, long and soft, was +tied with white ribband. Faith looked at it doubtfully. + +"Must I open this, Pet?" + +"It is tied up for that express purpose." + +A little suspicious of each new thing, Faith pulled the easy knot of +white ribband and uncovered what lay within. It was a white embroidered +muslin, fine and beautiful in its clear texture, as was the wrought +tracery upon it. No colour relieved this white field,--a pair of snowy +gloves lay upon it, with the lace and sash for its finish of adornment; +with them a folded handkerchief, plain like the rest but particularly +fine. Separately wrapped up in soft paper that but half hid them, were +the little rosetted slippers. + +"He said you must have none but real flowers," Miss Linden said--too +softly to call for a look in answer. + +That dress was what not even Miss Bezac had been able to make Faith +look at in imagination--and there it lay before her! Perhaps, to tell +the truth, she had been hardly willing to realize to herself the future +necessity of such a thing. The blood came deeper to her cheeks, then +left them in another moment pale. Faith laid her face in her hands on +the edge of the trunk,--for once overcome. Again Miss Linden's quick +impulse was to come to Faith's side, and again she checked herself; +thinking perhaps that she was too new a friend to have her words +pleasant just then--feeling that there was but one person who _could_ +say what ought to be said. So she sat quite still, nor even turned her +eyes towards Faith except now and then in a quick glance of sympathy +and interest; both which were shewn in her folded hands and averted +head. But very soon Faith was softly doing the parcel up again in its +white ribbands; and then she began to lay the things back in the trunk, +with quick hands but dainty. Half way through, Faith suddenly stopped. + +"Shall I put these back here for the present?"--she said, looking +towards Miss Linden. + +"For the present, dear?--I am not sure that I understand." + +"Just now--till I can arrange some other place to put them." + +"I have nothing to do with 'this place'," said Miss Linden +smiling,--"it came with my trunks, that is all." + +Faith coloured again and went on with what she was doing. Miss Linden +watched her. + +"Faith," she said, "don't finish that work just now,--sit still there +and read Endy's letter--won't you, darling? I am going down to pay your +mother a visit." And with a kiss and embrace she was gone. + +Faith's hands stopped their work as the door closed, and she sat still, +looking at the voiceless messages of love, care, thought, and +anticipation, which surrounded her. Looking dreamily, and a little +oppressed; and when she moved her hand it was not first to get her +letter, but to draw out the locket from her bosom and see Mr. Linden's +face; as if she wanted his look to authenticate all these messages, or +to meet her own heart's answer. At any rate it was not till after a +good study of the little picture that Faith put it away and took out +her letter. + +It was not _just_ like having him there to talk or caress away her +discomfort--and yet it was like it, though the pages were well on their +way before the trousseau was even alluded to. But the words, the +atmosphere of the letter made Faith breathe easier,--it was like the +wand of the Fairy Order, smoothing out the little tangled skeins of +silk. And when that subject came up, it was touched so lightly, so +delicately, yet with such evident pleasure,--there was such mingling of +play and earnest in the charge given her to be ready before he came, +and such a strong wish that he could have saved her all the work,--the +terror of the trousseau could not stand before it. And at the hope that +her taste would be suited, Faith's heart made a spring the other way. +She drank in every word of the letter; and then feeling healed, though +tender-spirited yet, she finished putting away her riches and went down +stairs. + +Mrs. Derrick having gone off to attend to dinner preparations, Miss +Linden sat alone, singing to herself softly in company with the March +wind and the fire, and (of all things!) at work upon one of Miss +Bezac's mantillas. Faith's two hands were laid upon the one which held +the needle. "Not to-day--" said the silver voice which Miss Linden must +learn to know. + +"Yes--unless you'll give me somewhat else to do!" she said leaning her +sunshiny head back against Faith. "I was out of patience with myself +because I could not do what no one but Endecott could--so in my woman's +pride I took up something which he couldn't. What are _you_ going to +do, darling?" + +Faith thought she knew why she was called "Pet"--but she only kissed +her. "I shall have to ask you a great deal about those things up +stairs," she said;--"but to-day I want to see you What would you like?" + +The thing Miss Linden liked best, was to see some of her brother's old +haunts; and a notable drive the two had that afternoon. Wherein, under +the light of a Spring day, Miss Linden saw Pattaquasset, the Quapaw +people, (part of them) and not least of all, Faith herself, who shewed +herself very much as the Spring day. And of Mr. Linden his sister +talked the while, to her heart's content, and Faith's--in the full joy +of that affection which can never say enough, speaking to that which +can never hear too much. + +It would be long to tell how the trousseau was made up. Mrs. Iredell +came from Pequot and established herself in a farmhouse at +Pattaquasset; and the two future sisters put their heads and their +hands--a good deal of their hearts too--into the work that was done in +Faith's blue-wainscotted white room. There they sat and sewed, day +after day; while the days grew warm, and the apple blossoms burst, and +the robins whistled. They whistled of Mr. Linden's coming home, to +Faith, and sent her needle with a quicker impulse. She never spoke of +it. + +But Miss Linden knew whither the look went, that seemed to go no +further than the apple trees; and what was the pressure that made a +quick breath now and then and a hurried finger. Perhaps her own pulses +began to move with accelerated beat. And when towards the end of May +Mrs. Iredell found business occasion for being in Quilipeak a +fortnight, Pet so urged upon Mrs. Derrick the advantages of the scheme, +that she carried off Faith with her. It would break the waiting and +watching, and act as a diversion, she said,--and Faith did not +contradict her. + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + + + +Established fairly in that great Quilipeak hotel, Faith found her way +of life very pleasant. Mrs. Iredell was much in her own room, coming +out now and then for a while to watch the two young things at their +work. A pretty sight!--for some of _the_ work had been brought +along,--fast getting finished now, under the witching of "sweet +counsel." Miss Linden declared that for her part she was sorry it was +so near done,--what Faith thought about it she did not say. + +Meantime, June was using her rosy wings day by day, and in another week +Mr. Linden might be looked for. Just what steamer he would take was a. +little uncertain, but from that time two people at least would begin to +hope, and a day or two before that time they were to go back to +Pattaquasset. + +The week was near the ending--so was the work,--and in their pretty +parlour the two ladies wrought on as usual. The morning had been spent +in explorations with Reuben Taylor and Sam Stoutenburgh, and now it was +afternoon of a cool June day, with a fresh breeze scouting round to see +what sweets it could pick up, and coming in at the open window to +report. On the table was a delicate tinted summer muslin spread out to +receive its trimming, over which Faith and Miss Linden stood and +debated and laughed,--then Faith went back to her low seat in the +window and the hem of a pocket handkerchief. So--half looking out and +half in,--the quiet street sounds murmuring with the rustle of the many +elm leaves,--Faith sat, the wind playing Cupid to her Psyche; and Miss +Linden stood by the table and the muslin dress. + +"Faith," she said contemplatively, "What flowers do you suppose +Endecott would get you to wear with this--out of a garden full?" + +"It is difficult to tell"--said Faith; "he finds just what he wants, +just where I shouldn't look for it." And a vision of red oak-leaves, +and other illustrations, flitted across Faith's fancy. + +"Very true," said Miss Linden,--"precisely what Aunt Iredell said when +she first saw you,--but I am inclined to think, that the first day you +appear in this you will see him appear with a bunch of white +roses--probably Lamarques; if--" + +"Why Lamarques?" said Faith sewing away. "Pet, how pleasant this wind +is." + +Miss Linden did not immediately answer. She stood resting her finger +tips on the muslin dress, looking down at it with an intentness that +might have seen through thicker stuff, the colour in her cheeks +deepening and deepening. "Why?" she said abstractedly,--"they're +beautiful--don't you think so?--Oh Faith!"--With a joyous clasp of the +hands she sprang to the window, and dropped the curtain like a screen +before her. There was no time to ask questions--nor need. Faith heard +the opening door, the word spoken to the waiter,--saw Mr. Linden +himself come in. + +Pet sprang towards him with a joyful exclamation--an unselfish one, as +it seemed; for after a moment's concentrated embrace which embodied the +warmth of half a dozen, she disappeared out of the room. Mr. Linden +came forward, looking after her at first with surprise,--then as if a +possible explanation occurred to him, he stood still by the +mantelpiece, watching the door by which she had gone. Faith had waited +behind her screen--she could not have told why--utterly motionless for +that minute; then a little quick push sent the curtain aside, and she +came to him, + +"Faith!" he exclaimed--"are you hiding from me?--My dear Mignonette--" + +She hid from him then,--all her face could; for her gladness was of +that kind which banishes colour instead of bringing it. He let her +stand so a few minutes, himself very silent and still; then one hand +brought her face within reach. + +"Little bird!" he said, "I have you safe now,--you need not flutter any +more!" + +Perhaps that thought was hardly composing, for Faith's head drooped +yet, in a statue-like stillness. Not very unlike a bird on its rest +however, albeit her gravity was profound. And rest--to speak it +fairly--is a serious thing to anybody, when it has been in doubt or +jeopardy, or long withheld. What could be done to bring the colour +back, that Mr. Linden tried. + +"Faith," he said, "is this all I am to have from your lips--of any +sort? Where did you get such pale cheeks, precious one?--did I frighten +you by coming so suddenly? You have not been ill again?" + +"No,"--she said, raising her eyes for the first time to look fairly in +his face. But that look brought Faith back to herself; and though she +drooped her head again, it was for another reason, and her words were +in a different key. "We didn't expect you for a week more." + +"No--because I didn't want you to be watching the winds. Mignonette, +look up!" + +Which she did, frankly,--her eyes as delicious a compound of gravity +and gladness as any man need wish to have bestowed upon him. "Pet +brought me here,--" she said. + +"Well do you suppose _I_ have brought an invoice of Dutch patience?" + +"I don't think you are particularly patient,"--said Faith +demurely,--"except when you choose. Oh Endy!--" + +That last note had the true ring of joy. Her forehead touched his +shoulder again; the rest of her sentence was unspoken. + +"I do not choose, to-day. Mignonette, therefore tell me--do you think I +have had all I am fairly entitled to?" + +She flushed all over, but lifted up her head and kissed him. Mr. Linden +watched her, smiling then though she might not see it. + +"My little beauty," he said, "you have grown afraid of me--do you know +that?" + +"Not very--" she said. Certainly Faith was not good at defending +herself. + +"No, not very. Just enough to give us both something to do. Mignonette, +are you ready for me?" + +Faith's face was bowed again almost out of sight. "Don't you think," +she half whispered, "that Pet must be ready to see you, by this time?" + +For all answer--except a smile--she was led across the room to a seat +near the window. But _just_ there, was the table and its muslin dress! +Mr. Linden stopped short, and Faith felt and understood the clasp of +his arm about her waist, of his hand upon hers. But he only said +laughingly, "Faith, was _that_ what made you hide away?" + +"Pet hid me," Faith said very much abashed;--"not I. She let fall the +curtain." + +Mr. Linden let it fall again, in effect, for he quitted all troublesome +subjects, and sat down by her side; not loosing his hold of her, +indeed, nor taking his eyes from her, but in the gravity of his own +deep happiness there was not much to disturb her quiet. + +"I sent you a telegraphic despatch this morning to Pattaquasset, dear +Faith,--I did not mean to take you quite by surprise. And my stopping +anywhere short of that was merely because the arrangement of trains +forced me to lose an hour here on the way. I thought it lost." + +"It hasn't proved so." + +"There was such a doubt of my being in time for this steamer, that I +would not even speak of it. Faith, I have not often heard such music as +the swash of the water about her paddle-wheels as we set off." + +"Didn't you hear the swash of her paddle-wheels as you came in?" said +Faith merrily. + +"No!" The wistful gladness of her eye was a pretty commentary. + +"Is Miss Reason in full activity yet?" said Mr. Linden smiling,--_his_ +comment. + +"She has had no interruption, you know, for a great while." + +"Take care of her, Faith,--she has a great deal of work before her." +The look that answered this was a little conscious, but shewed no fear. + +There was nothing very unreasonable in the face that bent over hers; +the eyes with their deep look, lit up now and then with flashes of +different feelings; the mouth wearing its sweet changeable expression. +A little browner than usual, from the voyage,--a little thinner, +perhaps, with hard work; Mr. Linden still looked remarkably well and +like himself; though Faith felt that nameless change--that mingling of +real and unreal, of friend and stranger, which a long absence always +brings. One minute he was himself, as he had been in +Pattaquasset,--giving her lessons, riding with her, reading to her, +going off to school with one of Mrs. Stoutenburgh's white roses. The +next--he was a gentleman just arrived from Europe!--from whom she could +not get away. Perhaps the last impression was the most remarkable. But +in spite of this, Faith was herself, every inch of her; with the +exception of that one little difference which Mr. Linden had pointed +out and which was not to be denied. + +Some time had passed, when Faith felt Pet's little hand come round her +neck--the other was round Mr. Linden. Faith's start was instant; +springing up she went to the window where behind the curtain lay the +work her hand had dropped. Faith gathered it up. She would have put +that muslin dress out of the way then!--but there it lay in plain sight +and close neighbourhood. Yet somebody must do it, and it was her +business; and with cheeks of a very pretty deep rose that set off her +white drapery, Faith applied herself to the due folding of the +troublesome muslin. In two minutes Pet came to help her, but in a +different mood, though her eyelashes were glittering. + +"Endy, come here and look at this--I think it is so pretty. What +flowers must Faith wear with it?" + +"Carnations look very well." + +"I said white roses."-- + +"Which will you wear, Mignonette?" said Mr. Linden. + +He was favoured with a glance from two gentle eyes, which it was worth +a little wickedness to get. It was only a flash. "I think Pet is +right,"--she answered with great gravity. + +He came close to her side, the low-spoken "you shall have them--" +touched more things than one. + +"What do you suppose I found her doing?" said Pet, folding down a +sleeve. + +"Pet!"--said Faith. "Don't touch that! Not to-night." + +"Do you wish me to leave it unfolded?--the servants will perhaps sweep +in the morning." + +"Pet," said Faith softly,--"don't _you_ raise a dust! We might not lay +it so soon." + +"Endy," said his sister, "how do you do?--you haven't told me." + +"Perfectly well, dear Pet." + +"Turn round to the light and let me see--You've grown, thin, child!" + +He laughed--giving her a kiss and embrace to make up for that; which +was only half successful. But she spoke in her former tone. + +"He looks pretty strong, Faith,--I think I might tell him." + +"Mr. Linden," said Faith, "won't you please ask Pet not to tell you +something?" + +"I will ask _you_," he said softly, laying his hands lightly on her +shoulders. "Faith--I think we may dispense with 'Mr. Linden' _now_, +even before people." + +She was oddly abashed; glanced up at him and glanced down, with the +grave air of a rebuked child. There was nothing about it that was not +pretty; and the next thing her eyes went to Pet. How lovely and +precious she looked as she stood there! with her sweet shy face and +changing colours. Mr. Linden held her to his breast and kissed her more +than once,--but in a way that was beyond chiding. + +"Why must I ask Pet not to tell me something?" + +"It is nothing great!"--said Faith stammering over her words--"Only you +won't like it very well--but you will have to hear it. I thought +another time--that's all." + +"He'll never hear it from you--what I mean," said Miss Linden, "so he +shall from me. We'll see whether he likes it. Know then, Endecott, that +I found this child absorbed in wedding dresses!" + +"Wedding dresses!" he repeated. "More than one?" + +"Oh Endy," said his sister with a sort of laughing impatience, "what a +boy you are! I mean other people's." Faith stood smiling a little, +letting her manage it her own way. + +"Imagine it," Miss Linden went on,--"imagine this one little real +flower bending over a whole garden of muslin marigolds and silk +sunflowers and velvet verbenas, growing unthriftily in a bed of white +muslin!" Mr. Linden laughed, as if the picture were a pleasant one. + +"Mignonette," he said,--"how could you bear the sight?" + +"I was trying to make the best of it." + +"In whose behalf were you so much interested?" + +"Maria Davids," said Faith glancing up at him. "But I was _not_ +interested,--only so far as one is in making the best of anything." + +"Who is trying to make the best of her?" + +Faith looked down and looked grave as she answered--"Jonathan Fax." Mr. +Linden's face was grave too, then, with the recollections that name +brought up. + +"There is one place in the house she cannot touch," he said. "Faith, I +am glad she is not to take care of _him_." + +"I have thought that so often!" + +"Do you like my story, Endy?" said Miss Linden presently. + +"Very much--the subject. I am less interested in the application. Who +next is to be married in Pattaquasset?" + +"I don't know."-- + +"Aunt Iredell says she wishes _you_ would be married here," observed +Pet demurely. To which insinuation Faith opposed as demure a silence. + +"Oh Endecott," said his sister changing her tone and speaking in that +mixed mood which so well became her,--"I'm so happy that you are here! +This week Faith has been pretty quiet, by dint of being away from home; +but nothing would have kept her here next week--and I had been thinking +what we should do,--if the week should run on into two--or if the wind +should blow!" She spoke laughingly, yet with a voice not quite steady. + +"'So he bringeth them to the haven where they would be'!" Mr. Linden +said. But his voice was clear as the very depth of feeling of which it +told. "Aunt Iredell cannot have her wish, Pet," he added +presently,--"there would be at least three negative votes." + +"I suppose that! But I shall come down Saturday to hear what wishes +_are_ in progress." + +"Won't you go with us, Pet, to-morrow?" said Faith earnestly. She had +been standing in a sort of abstracted silence. + +"No, pretty sister, I will not. But I shall keep all those ruffles here +to finish, and Saturday Reuben Taylor shall escort them and me to +Pattaquasset." + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + + + +Things were yet in their morning light and shadow when Faith set off on +this her first real journey with Mr. Linden. She felt the strangeness +of it,--in the early breakfast, the drive alone with him to the +station,--to stand by and see him get her ticket, to sit with him alone +in the cars (there seemed to be no one else there!) were all new. The +towers of Quilipeak rose up in the soft distance, shining in the +morning sun: over meadow and hillside and Indian-named river the summer +light fell in all its beauty. Dewdrops glittered on waving grain and +mown grass; labourers in their shirt-sleeves made another gleaming line +of scythe blades, or followed the teams of red and brindled oxen that +bowed their heads to the heavy yoke. Through all this, past all this, +the Pequot train flew on towards Pattaquasset; sending whole lines of +white smoke to scour the country, despatching the shrill echoes of its +whistle in swift pursuit. + +Faith saw it all with that vividness of impression which leaves +everything sun-pictured on the memory forever. In it all she felt a +strange "something new;"--which gave the sunlight such a marked +brilliancy, and made dewdrops fresher than ordinary, and bestowed on +mown grass and waving grain such rich tints and gracious motion. It was +not merely the happiness of the time;--Faith's foot had a little odd +feeling that every step was on new ground. It was a thoughtful ride to +Pattaquasset, though she was innocently busy with all pleasant things +that came in her way, and the silveriest of tones called Mr. Linden's +attention to them. He did not leave her thoughts too much chance to +muse: the country, the various towns, gave subject enough for the +varied comment and information Faith loved so much. Mr. Linden knew the +places well, and their history and legends, and the foreign scenes that +were like--or unlike--them, or perhaps a hayfield brought up stories of +foreign agriculture, or a white sailing cloud carried them both off to +castles in the air. One thing Mr. Linden might have made known more +fully than he did--and that was his companion. For several times in the +course of the morning, first in the station at Quilipeak, then in the +cars, some friend or acquaintance of his own came to greet or welcome +him. And Faith could see the curiosity that glanced at so much of her +as her veil left in view,--Mr. Linden saw it too, with some amusement. +And yet though all this was a little rouging, it was interesting to her +in another way,--shewing her Mr. Linden as she had never seen him, +among the rest of the world,--giving her little glimpses of his former +life; for the bits of talk were sometimes quite prolonged. + +"Mignonette," he said after one of these occasions, "some people here +are very anxious to make your acquaintance." + +"I am glad you don't want to gratify them." + +"Why?--In the first place, I do." + +"Do you!"--said Faith, somewhat fearfully. + +"Certainly. I, like you, am 'a little proud of my carnations'. How do +you like this way of travelling?" + +"I like it such a morning as this," said Faith. "I don't think it's the +pleasantest. But to-day it's delicious." + +"Yes--to-day," he repeated. "What way of travelling do you like best?" + +"You know I never travelled at all, except to Quilipeak and Pequot. I +believe I like a wagon or a sleigh better than this,--in general." + +"That is our last whistling post!" said Mr. Linden "Faith, I shall be +glad to get rid of that veil. And I have so many things to say to you +that cannot be said here. Is Mr. Somers in Pattaquasset still?" + +"Everybody's there--" Faith answered. + +The little shake of the head with which this intelligence (so far as +regarded Mr. Somers) was received, Faith might understand as she +pleased, for in another minute they were at the Pattaquasset station; +the train was puffing off, and she standing there on the platform with +Mr. Linden. A little way back was Jerry and the wagon--that Faith saw +at a glance; but there too, and much nearer, was Squire +Stoutenburgh--in doubt whether to handle the new corners separately or +together, in his great delight. + +From all this Mr. Linden rescued Faith with most prompt skill; carried +her off to the wagon, shook hands with Dromy and dismissed him, and +then with the reins in his own hands had her all to himself once more. +And Jerry dashed on as if he knew his driver. + +"Mignonette, please put back your veil," were the first words. Which +Faith did, and looked at him, laughing, blushing and a little shy, all +in one pleasant combination. + +"What have you been doing to make yourself lovelier, little Sunbeam?" + +"I have been a year without seeing you,"--said Faith with excellent +seriousness. + +"My presence seems to have no counteracting effect. By the same rule, I +should be--marvellous! To you perceive it?" + +Her eye gave one of its little flashes, but Faith immediately looked +away. + +"Do you know," said Mr. Linden, "I can hardly believe that this year of +exile is over--and that there are none others to follow it. What do you +suppose will be the first subject you and I shall consider?" + +"Mr. Skip," said Faith gravely. + +"Mr. Skip merits no consideration whatever. Is Miss Bezac at work on +that dress?" + +"Because he don't live with us any longer, Endecott." + +"Does he not?--Unfortunate man!" + +"And Dromy is in his place." + +"My dear, my own place is the only one I can think of with any intense +interest. Except yours." + +"Because we have had no farm to manage this winter," said Faith; "so +Dromy could do what we wanted." + +"I am glad to hear it," said Mr. Linden,--"he never used to be able to +do what I wanted. Who has managed for you? Mr. Simlins? And has Mr. +Skip gone off in a pumpkin with Cinderella? Faith, there is the door +where I had the first sight of you--my Rose of delight!" he added +softly, as if all the days since then were passing through his mind in +sweet procession. + +Faith was silent, for she too had something to think of; and there was +no more time to finish either train of conversation that had been +started. Both dropped, even before Jerry drew up at the gate; and if +she had not gained one object she had the other. + +By this time it was about eleven o'clock. It was rarely very hot in +Pattaquasset; and now though under a sunny sky there were summer +breezes rustling in the trees. Both mingled in Faith's senses with the +joy of going into that house again so accompanied. That gladness of +getting home in a pleasant hour! No one was in the cool +sitting-room--Faith pushed open the door between and went into the +eating-room, followed by Mr. Linden. There was Mrs. Derrick; and what +of all things doing but _doing up_ some of Faith's new ruffles! It was +a glad meeting,--what though Mrs. Derrick had no hand to give anybody. +Then she went to get rid of the starch, and the two others to their +respective rooms. But in a very few minutes indeed Faith was by her +side again. + +"Mother--has Cindy come?" + +"She's coming to-morrow, child. But there's not much to do for +dinner,--_that_'s all under way." + +Faith bared her arms and plunged into dairy and kitchen to do all that +her mother characterized as "not much," and a little more. When every +possible item had been cared for--the strawberries looked over--the +cream made ready--the table set--the lettuce washed--the dishes warming +for the vegetables--the pickles and bread on the table--and Faith had +through all this delighted Mrs. Derrick as much as possible with her +company, sight and presence at least,--for Faith's words were a trifle +less free than usual;--when it was all done and the eating-room in a +state of pleasant shady summer readiness, Faith went "ben," as they say +in Scotland. She came into the sitting-room, as quietly as usual, and +coming up to Mr. Linden laid a hand on his shoulder. + +"My own dear little Mignonette!--Do you feel less afraid of me, now I +am here?" + +She hesitated to answer at first, then spoke with a very dainty shy +look--"I don't think I ever had fear enough of you to hurt anything." + +"See that you do not begin now! What have you been about, all these +long months? You were as chary of details as if I had no right to them." + +Faith looked gravely out of the window before she said, "I have not +been studying this year, Endecott." There was so clearly some reason +for it, that Mr. Linden's first thought was one of anxiety. + +"What has been the matter?" + +"You know I told you Mr. Skip had gone away?" + +"Yes." + +"And that he went because we hadn't any farm to manage?" + +"What has the farm to do with your studies?" + +"What shall I do if I make you very angry with me?" said Faith, the +least touch of seriousness mingling with her words, + +"You had better ask what I shall do. Has Mr. Deacon come back and taken +possession?" + +"Yes--And you know, Endy, we used to live by the farm. When that was +gone we had to live by something else. I wouldn't tell you if I could +help your knowing it." + +"Mignonette, what have you been doing?" + +"You know what Pet found me at?" + +"Yes."--She could not tell whether he saw the whole,--he was clearly in +the mind to hear it, taking both her hands in his. + +"I did that," said Faith. + +"Did what?" + +"I got work from Miss Bezac.--She gave me lessons." + +"For how long?" + +"Since--about a fortnight after you went away. It was then Squire +Deacon took away the farm. From that time until Pet came--" she added +with a little rise of colour in her cheeks. + +"And that all the daylight and candlelight hours of each day?" + +"O no, not that. I had long walks to Miss Bezac's, you know--or +rides--every day or two; for we kept Jerry; and I never sewed before +breakfast. And in the evening I used to write letters--part of the +evening." + +"Child! child!"--He dropped her hands, and began to pace up and down +the moderate limits of Mrs. Derrick's best carpet. Until after a few +turns Faith put herself straight in his way and intercepted him, with a +very innocent face. + +"Faith, did no one protest against this--for me?" + +"Yes, sir."-- + +"And you knew that I had guarded--that I had _tried_ to guard you +against any such possibility?" + +Faith paused. "Yes, I knew,--but Endy, that couldn't make any +difference." + +"It did not--How, could not?" + +"It ought not," she said softly and colouring. + +"Can you tell why?" + +"You know, Endy, it was better,--it was right,--it was better that I +should work for myself." + +"Never, Mignonette--while I could work for you. How do you expect to +manage when you are my wife?--And do you think I had no right even to +_know_ about it?" + +"I thought--now was the best time--" Faith said. + +"Am I to learn from this and similar instances what my wife will expect +of me if I chance to be sick or in trouble?" + +It touched her. She coloured again to the roots of her hair. + +"Do you think I did wrong, Endy?" she said doubtfully, yet in an +appealing fashion. + +"I cannot say you did right." + +"But when you could do me no good,"--said Faith very gently,--"and I +should only have given you pain--for nothing?" + +"It would not have given me pain to have you tell it--and the thing +does now. Besides, in a great many cases the thought that it is pain +'for nothing' is a mistake. I might know some remedy when you did not. +Self sacrifice will never run wild in my nature--as it is inclined to +do in yours, but just imagine it once in the ascendant and me with a +bad headache (which I never have),--it can only give you pain to hear +of it--so I tell you of it the next day. But if I had told you at the +time--what conjurations of your little fingers! what quick-witted +alleviations!--till the headache becomes almost a pleasure to both of +us." + +Faith was very near the unwonted demonstration of tears. She stood +still, looking down, till she could look up safely. + +"I will not do so again, Endy.--About important things, I mean," + +"You know, Faith, I am speaking less of this one case, than of the +daily course of future action. Is not perfect frankness, as well as +perfect truth, best? And if I call for your sympathy in all manner of +small and great things, will you let mine lie idle?" + +"I might like it,"--said Faith honestly. "But in great things I will +not again, Endecott." + +"Take care you get the right measure for things," said Mr. Linden +smiling. "Frankness makes a deliciously plain way for one's feet." + +Faith looked sober again, at the idea that she should have failed in +frankness. Then put her hand in his and looked smiling up at him. + +"There is one thing I will not keep from you any longer,"--she said. + +"What is that?--the seal of this little compact of plain speaking?" + +"Strawberries!"-- + +"Only another style of nomenclature,"--said Mr. Linden. + +"You must take the trouble to go into the other room for them." + +And light-heartedly Faith preceded him into the other room, where the +dinner was ready. A very simple dinner, but Mrs. Derrick would not have +had anything less than a roast chicken for Mr. Linden, and the lettuce +and potatoes did very well for a summer day; and Faith's waiting on +table made it only more pleasant. Talk flowed all the while; of a +thousand and one things; for Mrs. Derrick's sympathies had a wider +range since Mr. Linden had been in Germany. Indeed the talk was +principally between those two. It was a remarkably long dinner, without +multiplication of courses--there was so much to say! Many were the +pleasant things swallowed with the strawberries. It is said hunger is +the best sauce; it's not true; happiness is a better. + +And then--what came then? Truly, the same over again--looking and +talking, without the strawberries. Which were not wanted; especially +when Faith was dressed out with roses, as she was presently after +dinner. As she _would_ wash the tumblers and spoons in the dining-room, +spite of all Mrs. Derrick could say, so Mr. Linden would stay there +too; not indeed to do anything but look on, and bestow the roses as +aforesaid. Talking to her sometimes in English, sometimes in French, +with preliminary instructions in German. + +"Mignonette," he said, "I have three letters for you to read." + +"Letters, Endecott!--Who has written to me?" + +"Through me--three regions of country." + +"What do you mean?" + +Just as she spoke the words, Faith paused and set down the tumbler she +was wiping. Her ears had caught the sound of a modest knock at the +front door. She looked at Mr. Linden. + +"Stay here, Endy--please!" she said as she threw down her towel and ran +off. But Faith's hope of a chance was disappointed. She ushered +somebody into the sitting-room and came back gravely and flushed to Mr. +Linden. + +"It's Mr. Somers--and he wants to see you, Endecott!" + +Faith went at her tumblers, and simultaneously, greatly to the dismay +of one party as to the surprise of the other, in walked Mr. Somers +after her. + +"Miss Derrick told me you were in this room, sir," said the clergyman +shaking Mr. Linden's hand,--"so I came in. Ha! I am glad to be one of +the first to welcome you back. How do you do, Mr. Linden? You've been a +great while from Pattaquasset!--and you've been missed, I don't doubt." + +Apparently not by Mr. Somers! But Mr. Linden met all the advances as he +should, merely stating his belief in the general proposition that +"there is always somebody to miss everybody." + +"Will you take a seat here, sir?" he said--"or may I go with you to the +next room?" + +"I--have no choice," said Mr. Somers looking benignantly around;--"it +is very pleasant here, very!--cool;--perhaps Miss Derrick will have no +objection to our taking our seats here?" + +Faith did not say, but as Mr. Somers had taken her leave for granted, +and his seat consequently, she was saved that trouble. How she reddened +at the thought of the roses with which she was dressed! And there she +stood in full view, washing her spoons! But Mr. Somers looked the other +way. + +"I--I am very happy to see you again, Mr. Linden--very happy indeed, +sir! I heard from Squire Stoutenburgh that you were expected, and I +lost no time. How have you enjoyed your health, sir, this year? A +year's a long time! isn't it?" + +Mr. Linden, taking his seat as in duty bound, looked abstractedly at +Faith and the spoons and the roses, and answered according to the +evidence. + +"Yes, Mr. Somers,--and yet it depends very much upon how far the two +ends of the year are apart in other respects. The 'Voyage autour de ma +chambre' could never _seem_ very long, whatever time it took." + +"Ha!"--said Mr. Somers blandly,--he hadn't the remotest idea what this +speech might mean,--"no. Did you have a good passage coming over? We +had every sign of it." + +"Very good,"--said Mr. Linden smiling,--"and very stormy." + +"Ah?"--said Mr. Somers,--"very good and very stormy? Well I shouldn't +have thought that. But I suppose you have got to be such a traveller +that you don't mind which way the wind blows, if it blows you on, +ha?--like Dr. Harrison. _He_ never minds the weather. Dr. Harrison's a +great loss to Pattaquasset too," said Mr. Somers looking at Faith and +smiling a little more openly;--"all our--ha!--our pleasantest members +of society seem to be running away from us! That's what Mrs. Somers +says." + +"One more spoon--and put them up,"--thought Faith,--"and then I'll be +away!"-- + +"But I've come to see if I can't get you to do me a favour, Mr. +Linden," said Mr. Somers withdrawing his eyes and mind from her. +"I--should be very much obliged to you indeed! I'm almost afraid to +ask, for fear I sha'n't get it." + +Faith wiped her spoon slowly. + +"I like to do favours," said Mr. Linden,--"at least I think I should. +But I cannot imagine how you can give me a chance, Mr. Somers." + +"Don't you think it would be a great gratification to all your old +friends in Pattaquasset, if you would consent to fill my pulpit next +Sunday? They--I believe they'd come from all over the country!--and it +would be--a--it would be a very great gratification indeed to me. Can't +I prevail with you?" + +Faith had ceased her work and was standing quite still, with bended +head, and cheeks which had gathered their colour into two vivid spots. +On those carnations Mr. Linden's eyes rested for a moment, with a +strange feeling of pleasure, of emotion. The sort of touched smile upon +his lips when he spoke, did not, it may be said, belong to Mr. Somers. +His answer was very simple and straightforward. + +"I should like to see and speak to all my old friends again, sir, more +than I can tell you--and I think they would be glad to see me. I could +do it so well in no other way. Thank you, Mr. Somers!--it is you who +confer the favour." + +"Then you'll do it?" said Mr. Somers, delighted. "I am very happy--very +fortunate indeed! It will be quite a relief. And a pleasure--a very +great pleasure--a--I assure you, sir. It's profitable for--a--people to +have a change--they listen--ha!--they hear the same things said in a +different way; and it is often striking. And it is certainly profitable +to the pastor. Well, Mr. Linden, I shall make a great many people +happy,--and Mrs. Somers, she'll set off on her side to tell the news. +How long are you going--a--to remain in Pattaquasset?--But I don't +know," added he laughing,--"as I ought to ask!" + +Faith had carried her spoons summarily to the cup-board, and was +sitting at an open window near it, looking out. + +"And I cannot answer," said Mr. Linden. "I have hardly got past my +arrival yet, sir." + +"No--certainly. I was--a--premature. You must excuse me. And I have no +right to take up any more of your time,--as you have so +kindly--a--consented to give me Sunday. What is the state of religion +now, abroad, sir?" + +The answer to which comprehensive enquiry drew on into a talk of some +length, although Mr. Somers had declared he must go and had no right to +stay. For a little while Faith sat still by her window, but then she +vanished and appeared at Mrs. Derrick's side in the kitchen. The dishes +were all done there too, and Mrs. Derrick was "ticing" about,--talking +to Faith and wishing Mr. Somers would go, some time before he went. +Faith heard the closing door, and the light returning step,--then a +clear--not loud-spoken--"Mignonette--where are you?" + +Faith sprang back through the passage, and stood in the eating-room +again. With a very sweet sort of gravity. All her mind and her face +full of the thought that he was going to preach for Mr. Somers. + +"What are you about, little Sunbeam?--are you busy?" + +"No." + +"Then first I want a talk with you, and then a walk with you,--do you +want the same with me?--or are you tired?" + +"No--yes;--I'm not tired a bit." + +"Are you nervous?" he said, drawing her off into the next room. + +"No!" she said laughing a little,--"did you ever think I was, +Endecott?"--But Faith's heart beat somewhat strangely. + +"I am going to try you--" he said as he sat down by her; "so if you +are, shut up your eyes." + +There was no sign of shutting up in Faith's eyes. She looked at him, +not indeed assuredly, but steadily, and with a wee smile. Eye and smile +were met and held, until he had taken her left hand and held that too; +but then looking down at it, Mr. Linden gravely took out a little gold +ring and proceeded to try how well its dimensions agreed with those of +the finger for which it was destined. + +Nothing moved of Faith but her eyes, which followed his, and the +fluttering colour--which fluttered indeed! went and came like the +lights on a wreath of vapour. + +Silently the hand, with both rings on, was looked at for a few +moments--then held to his lips, with special greeting of those two +fingers; and then, as he took off the second ring, Mr. Linden looked up +at her. + +"Mignonette, when may I put it on again?" + +There seemed to be difficulty in Faith's answering. Probably she was +making up her mind to speak, but he had to wait for her words to be +ready. He waited quietly, as if he expected it; looking down at the +hand he held, and saying nothing unless by the clasp of its little +fingers. + +"Do you know where you are going yet Endy?"--she said in a very low +voice. + +"No, darling--not certainly." + +"Then--do you want to know this yet?" + +"Very much." + +Faith had expected no less; she had had fair warning; and besides in +her heart could not but confess that Mr. Linden had reason. Little as +she might care to disturb the existing state of things, which to her +mind was pleasant enough, it was clear that his mind on the subject was +different; and she could not find fault with that. There was a pause +again, of quiet waiting on one side and great difficulty of utterance +on the other, and the words when they came were in the lowest possible +key. + +"What do you wish?" + +"What I have been waiting for all these years." + +"But as to time?" + +"As little as possible." + +"I know,--but what is that, Endy?"--she said with very timid intonation. + +"'As little as possible'?" he said, raising his eyes with a laughing +look to her face,--"the words hardly need explanation--I might have +stayed Mr. Somers this afternoon. It cannot be too soon for me, +Mignonette--but I do not know what is possible for you." + +What was possible for her! It almost took Faith's breath away. Because +she acknowledged Mr. Linden's right to his wish. She was in great +confusion, besides. + +"I will do what you please!" she said at length. "You may arrange it +with mother." + +"No, with you," said Mr. Linden,--"what do you please? Am I to repeat +the passage of Quapaw creek?" + +She looked up and looked at him, and said yes. It was a look any man +would have liked to have given him. Not without a little fear of what +he might say, those eyes put such a pure faith in him and were so ready +to answer his pleasure. She waited for his answer, though her eyes did +not. + +"You know, dear Faith, I sent you word to be ready for me,--is that +done?" + +"Yes nearly." + +"'Nearly' is soon despatched," said Mr. Linden,--"and this is the month +when, 'if ever, come perfect days'--Shall we say a week from to-day?" + +She looked very startled, soft though the glance was that again met his +face. And for a moment the roses fairly fled away. "As soon as +possible" this was, sure enough. They came back however, first +stealthily and then swiftly, till Faith's face was bowed and her right +hand with futile intent of concealment was interposed between it and +Mr. Linden. But whether Faith meant to speak or meant not to speak, +certain it is that words were none. + +"I cannot have this!" said Mr. Linden, as he took the shielding hand +into his own possession,--"Faith, you shall not look pale about it. +This is the second time I have banished the colour in the first +twenty-four hours I have been home. And these roses I see now, seem to +me to come from the same tree as the white ones. If you would look more +boldly at the subject it would appear much less terrific--and the same +might be said of me. What sort of a face have I down there in the +carpet?" + +There was a little clasp of his hand which answered that; but though he +could see Faith's lips give way he did not hear them speak. + +"Mignonette, the treaty waits your signature." + +"Yes, Endy,"--she said quaintly enough. Mr. Linden brought her face +round within sight, saying--much as he had done at Quapaw creek--"Are +you afraid, dear child?" + +"No--" she said timidly, and yet "no" it was. + +"Then it only needs my seal.--In one of the northern countries of +Europe, Mignonette, the bride and bridegroom are expected to stand at +the open window for an hour or two, in full dress,--so you see things +are not so bad as they might be. Now my little beauty--are you ready +for your walk?" + + + +CHAPTER XL. + + + +It was the pretty time of a summer afternoon. The sun, in the last +quarter of almost his longest journey of the year, but high yet, sent +warm rays to rest in the meadows and dally with the tree tops and +sparkle on the Mong and its salt outlet. The slight rustle of leaves +now and then was as often caused by a butterfly or a kildeer as by the +breeze; sometimes by a heavy damask rose that suddenly sent down its +rosy shower upon the ground. It was the very pastime of birds and +insects and roses,--with that slight extra stir which told the time of +day and that the afternoon siesta was at an end. + +Gathering roses as he went along, fastening them in her belt or her +bonnet, Mr. Linden led Faith down the farm road by which he had driven +her to the shore that first day after her illness. There was small +danger of meeting any one,--it was not the time for loads of hay and +grain, and little else passed that way: the labourers in the fields +were seen and heard only at a distance Mr. Linden himself was in as gay +and gladsome a mood as the day,--more lively indeed, and active--taking +the "dolce far" without the "niente;" witnessing what "the year of +exile" had been, by his joy in being at home, with June and Mignonette. +The afternoon's talk had added something even to both their +perfections--he could not forget it though he talked of other things. +Neither did Faith forget it. Yet she laughed at Mr. Linden and with +him; though as far as conversation was concerned she took a secondary +part. She started no subject whatever, of the least moment. + +Subjects started of themselves--in numbers somewhat like the little +butterflies that roused out of the clover as the intruding feet came +by,--about as airy, about as flitting, not quite so purposeless. And +thus in a way more summery than summary, Mr. Linden and Faith arrived +at the shore. He found a shady seat for her, and with no "by your +leave," except in manner, transferred her bonnet to an airy situation +on a wild thorn. + +"Mignonette, do you know what I mean to do with you after Thursday?" + +"No, Endecott."-- + +"I shall put you before me on the wooden horse spoken of in the fairy +tale, turn the pin under his right ear, and be off." + +"What's that story!"--said Faith, looking round at him (he was standing +behind her) with the prettiest of bright flushed faces. + +"An authentic account of how a prince carried off a princess." + +"How did he?" + +"Got her consent first--(couldn't get anybody's else, but that did not +matter)--ordered some one to bring the wooden horse to the front of the +palace, placed her and himself as aforesaid, turned the pin, and +disappeared from the curious eyes of the whole court. The story goes on +to state that they both enjoyed the ride." + +"Was that what you meant when you asked me if I liked travelling in +cars?--" said Faith, a very little laugh speaking her sense of the +application. + +"Quick witted little princess!" said Mr. Linden. "The horse that +refuses to carry double for your service, shall be dismissed from mine." + +"But I don't see much, yet," said Faith. "I don't understand the story +nor you. I think you have taken me a great many rides on that horse." + +"Not en princesse," said Mr. Linden smiling. "The story is very simple, +my dear. After shewing his wife various places of interest, and letting +his friends see her, the prince arrives at home. It is said that he +then finds his fortune--but I think that part of the story is fabulous, +so don't set your heart upon it." + +"That's the story--but what do you mean, Endy?" + +"To give you such a ride. I mean that I am the prince, and that you +(will be) the princess, who shall do all these things." + +Faith jumped up. "Do you!"-- + +"Truly I do, dear Mignonette." + +Faith's face was changing. The undoubted joy in her eye had yet a check +somewhere. + +"But Endecott--" + +"Qu'est-ce que c'est, Mademoiselle?" + +"You haven't a wooden horse!"--she said with a delicious and most +delicate mixture of frankness and timidity. + +"Are you sure of the fact?--and after all, Mademoiselle, what then?" + +The same look almost answered him without words. "I am not sure--" she +said. "I thought so." + +"What is the point of the remark?" + +She hesitated between the two feelings. But frankness, or duty, carried +it. "Because, Endy--if that were so,--I don't want to go!" + +"How did your royal pride get turned about?--that you will look at none +_but_ a wooden horse?" + +She smiled at him, a little puzzled as of old, and not choosing to +venture any further. + +"I suppose I know what you mean, my dear one," Mr. Linden said, taking +both her hands in his, and smiling too; "but as I do not intend to be +John Gilpin, you need not be his wife,--not yet. Besides, the horse--of +whatever sort--will require less than you suppose; and for the prince +and princess, they, + + Being in the air, + Will not care + How they fare!"-- + + +Which words had an overcoming effect not only upon Faith's nascent +scruples, but upon Faith herself; and a perfect series of little laughs +of the most musical description rolled along a very limited extent of +the shore, kept company by flushing colours as fair as the lights which +were just then playing in the clouds overhead. Mr. Linden holding her +hands still, watched his princess with the most perfect satisfaction. + +"Is your mind at rest?" he said. "You know I threatened to keep you all +to myself for six months--though I'm afraid four will be as near as I +can come to it." + +"But where are you going, Endy?" + +"That waits partly on your choice. In general, to hills, cities, and +rivers,--the Falls, the White Mountains, Washington, and the pictured +rocks of Lake Superior. Then to some shore where you can see real +surf--and to delight the eyes of some of my old friends by the way." + +Faith's eye went gravely over to the sunny Long Island shore, but her +mind had made a perfect leap. The only outward token of which was the +unconsciously playing line of her lips. Such a journey!--with him! The +breeze from the White Mountains seemed to blow in her face already, and +the capital of the country rose before her in a most luminous +cloud-view. With Mr. Linden to guide her and to tell her +everything!--She did not see the eyes that were watching her, but when +she suddenly noticed the silence and turned towards Mr. Linden, the +smile was on his lips too. + +"I thought I should go right to work," she said,--"to study--to make up +for lost time. Can't I do that too?" + +"As much as you like! But don't you know there is a lost holiday to be +made up, as well?" + +"It is made up,"--she said gently, after a minute's hesitation. + +"How that grieved me when I went away!" said Mr. Linden,--"to take from +you what I might never be able to replace. But sit down, dear child--I +want to consult you about various things." + +Faith sat down and looked--like a grave child indeed. Her journey for +the present forgotten, and all her mind bent on something more weighty +and worthy. + +"I told you I had three letters for you to read," said Mr. Linden. "One +reached me in Germany, two I found waiting for me here. They are all +about the same subject, Mignonette: where you and I shall establish +ourselves." + +A flush rose, but she looked steadily. + +"You told me once," Mr. Linden went on, "that in such a case I should +choose the place where I was most needed--where there was most work for +me to do. Now you shall judge. The pastor of a large manufacturing town +in Pennsylvania (I may say of the town--it is so in effect) has +accepted a call to Baltimore. I knew him formerly, and I suppose it is +through his influence that the people have applied to me." Faith +thought it very likely. + +"How large is the town, Endy?" + +"Ten or fifteen thousand--I do not know precisely." + +"And no other churches?" + +"Yes, but this is so much the leading one that the others hardly hold +their ground; and by the way, I think I would rather have a call from +one of them. Apparently the churchgoers are in the minority." + +Faith thought there must be work enough to do in that place; but she +only listened more gravely. + +"An old friend of my father's writes the second letter. He lives at +Newport, and has pleased himself with building a new church in a part +of the island not much adorned with spires. Climate and society are +good, scenery picturesque, and he is quite sure if I will only +bring--Mrs. Linden!--to his house, she will decide in favour of Newport +at once." + +Faith's eyes went down, and rouge of the richest and frankest coloured +her cheeks. + +"Do you think she will?" said Mr. Linden demurely. + +"What is the other, Endy?--You said three." + +"The other, love, is from those very White Mountains you are going to +see. Another friend writes the letter,--one who has built himself a +nest there for summer migrations. It is a strange place, Faith, by all +accounts--I have never been to that part of the mountains. A scattered +population, sprinkled about on the hills like their own dewberries, and +to be found in much the same manner. Neither church nor chapel, but +only an unused schoolhouse--of which Mr. Olyphant prays I will come and +take possession. Snow and frost, the valleys and the everlasting +hills--that would be your society." + +Faith's eyes were raised now and met Mr. Linden's. Grave, as one who +felt the weight of the question to be settled; but with a brow +unshadowed, and eyes unfearing. A child's look still! + +"Mr. Olyphant says there could not be better air for my bird to sing +in," he went on with a smile,--"there was one great objection to the +place in Pennsylvania. How does this seem to you, dear Faith?--it is +rather on a spur of the mountains--not absolutely shut in. Then I am +not sure how much society you would have but mine,--what do you think +of it, in comparison with Newport?" + +She answered at first with a rare little smile, so happy in its grave +trust, and which withal a little significantly deferred the question. + +"I know you will go where you think you ought to go. Endy--I don't know +about places." + +"I doubt whether I shall grant more than half of Mr. Alcott's request," +said Mr. Linden. "I suppose if George has not got home I may venture to +grant that. Faith, it is a very singular fact that everybody falls in +love with you." + +To judge by Faith's blush, it was a somewhat painful "fact." "Whom are +you talking of?" she said doubtfully. + +"The present occasion of my remark is George Alcott--said to be absent +on a crusade of search after a pair of eyes he saw in Pattaquasset." + +"I don't know him," said Faith laughing a little; but instantly +recurring to business she asked very earnestly, "Then, Endy, you think +you will go to that place in the mountains?--or haven't you made up +your mind?" + +"I am inclined to that one, of the three--I cannot say my mind is +absolutely made up. It has had so much else to do since I came home! +Faith, do you mean to have any bridesmaids?" + +Faith jumped up off her rock. "Endy, I want to run down and look at +these little fish. And it's growing late, besides!"-- + +"Yes, but, you must answer me first," said Mr. Linden laughing and +holding her fast. "It is needful I should know beforehand, because they +will want supporters, if I do not." + +"I don't want any, Endy," said Faith with cheeks like two pink roses, +but standing very still now. + +"Then come and shew me the fish. Don't you think it would be gladsome +work to seek out those untaught and uncared for people up in the +mountains?" + +They had come down to the rocks between and among which at low tide the +shell fish played in an inch or two of water; and sitting on one of the +mossy stones Faith was watching the mimic play of evil passions which +was going on among that tribe of Mollusca below her; but her mind was +on something else. + +"I read the other day," she said, "those words of Paul, where he says +to the Thessalonians 'we were allowed of God _to be put in trust with +the gospel_'.--They made me very happy--they make me happy now. What I +thought of in connexion with them, I mean." + +"And what was that?" + +"That they are your words too,"--she said after looking up as if she +thought her meaning must be known.--"And that even I--have something to +do," she added lower. + +Mr. Linden stood by her, looking off at the rippling waves, then down +at his fair little helper. "Yes, Faith--it is a glorious thing to have +any part of that work in trust,--and the part which makes least show +may be no less in reality. 'In trust'!" he repeated, looking off again. +"Such beautiful words!--such terrible." + +"No!"--she said with a smile,--"I don't think so." + +"Nor I, dear, from your point of view. But in the world, Faith, where +you have been so little, I have seen the words of the trust to be +boundless--the faithfulness of the trustees within very narrow limits. +And to be always ready to 'sow beside all waters'--who is? 'Freely ye +have received, freely give,' is the command--but what Christian sees +with half perception what he has received!" + +Faith paused and looked thoughtful, and then smiled again. "I always +think of the words you read to me one day,--'Only be thou strong and +very courageous,--for the Lord, thy God is with thee, whithersoever +thou goest.'"-- + +The answering look told that if Mr. Linden's words had not been said +for the purpose of drawing her out, they had at least served that +purpose. + +"You are a dear little Sunbeam!" he said. "Acting out your name, as I +told you long ago. There is nothing needful to get _you_ ready for the +White Mountains but a fur cloak. Now come--it is growing late, as you +say." + +It was a late tea-time when they got home. They sat down to tea and +Faith had not told her mother yet! which she remembered with a somewhat +uneasy mind. There was nothing uneasy about the third member of the +family!--the poise and balance of the white strawberries upon each +other was not more complete than the resting adjustment of all his +thoughts. + +"Mrs. Derrick," he said as she handed him his cup of tea, "what do you +consider the prettiest time of day?" + +"The prettiest time of day?" Mrs. Derrick repeated,--"do you mean when +the day looks best--or the people? I'm sure I don't know, Mr. +Linden,--I never watch anybody from morning to night but Faith." + +"I am talking of Faith--or what concerns her." + +"O well all times of day are alike to her," said her mother +fondly,--"she's just as pretty one time as another,--and one day as +another. Only the days when she used to get letters." + +"Mignonette," said Mr. Linden, "when should I have heard such a piece +of news from you?" + +"I never knew it before," said Faith. + +"How many hours does she need for a morning toilette?" said he, +pursuing his researches. + +"Hours!" said Mrs. Derrick--"you'd better say minutes. It's less than +an hour, commonly." + +"But I mean uncommonly." + +Mrs. Derrick looked thoroughly puzzled. But Faith had got the key, and +hopeless of stopping Mr. Linden she thought the next best thing was to +expedite matters. + +"When I take longest, mother,"--she suggested in a low voice. + +"How long would she need to arrange orange flowers to her +satisfaction--" said Mr. Linden,--"or white muslin?" + +"O!--" said Mrs. Derrick setting down the teapot with her cup half +filled. "I didn't know what you _were_ talking about." + +"I am talking about next Thursday," said Mr. Linden, with a gay +gentleness of manner. "Because we have decided--or I have--that +Thursday is to be the prettiest day of the week, and now we want to +choose the prettiest time of day." + +A little flush came into Mrs. Derrick's quiet face,--she said not a +word. + +"You are willing it should be then?" Mr. Linden said. + +The mother's "yes" was very firm and clear, and yet not in just her +usual tone. That came back a minute after with the relief which a +thought of business always brings. + +"That dress isn't made!" she said. Mr. Linden's "Faith!--" was +expressive. + +"I knew that it could be done in a day at any time, Endecott,"--said +Faith, very grave and flushed. "It is up stairs in my drawer, mother." + +"Kept there by what piece of superstition?" he said smiling. "Did you +think if you made it up that I would never come back?" + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + + + +Friday passed all too swiftly. Not in much _work_, so far as Faith was +concerned--unless so far as Mr. Linden gave her work. Apparently she +had been out of his sight long enough--he was not in the mood to let +her be so any more. Saturday followed close in Friday's steps until +after dinner, then came a move. For Pet and Reuben were to come in the +afternoon train; and Mr. Linden going with Jerry to the station to meet +them, summoned Faith to give "her sweet company." + +So far as the station, Faith gave it; but there she drew back into the +furthest corner of the wagon, and waited, while Mr. Linden walked up +and down between the wagon and the front platform. Waited, and watched, +furtively, everything; him and the people that spoke to him; with those +strange eyes that saw everything new. Then came the whistle! the rush +and roar of the train--the moment's lull; and then Faith saw the three +she looked for coming towards her. Reuben a little in advance with Miss +Linden's travelling bag, she with one hand on her brother's shoulder +and her eyes on his face, coming rather slowly after,--talking, asking +questions, some of which Faith could almost guess from the look and +smile with which they were answered. It was a pretty picture; she felt +as if she knew them both better for seeing it. Before they had quite +reached the wagon, Pet received an answer which made her quit Mr. +Linden with a little spring and leave him to follow with Reuben. And +Faith had opened the wagon door. + +"Faith! you dear child!" said Miss Linden, "what have you been doing +with yourself--or what has anybody done with you, to stow you away here +like a forgotten parcel?" She had entered the wagon no further than to +rest one knee there holding both Faith's hands and looking at her with +full, bright, loving eyes. "How came Endecott to leave you here, alone?" + +"Two people must be alone--if they are not together," said Mr. Linden. +"Pet, shall I put you in or out?" + +She laughed, jumping into the wagon then and twining one arm about +Faith's waist, much like a spray of woodbine. + +"What do you think I have asked him?" she whispered,--"and what do you +think he has told me?" + +"I don't know," said Faith;--"but I guess." + +A significant clasp of the woodbine answered that--then the hand rested +in a quiet embrace. + +"How well he looks!" she said, her eyes taking glad note of one figure +on the seat before them. "Faith, how are you?" + +"I am well."--Nothing could be quieter in its kind. "Did he tell you +what he is going to do to-morrow, Pet?" + +"No--" she said looking her quick inquiry. Faith's face might have told +her before she spoke; such a joy sat gravely on her brow and in the +depth of her eyes. + +"If you go to church to-morrow, you will know." + +A sudden flush, both of cheeks and eyes, bore witness to the interest +of this news. The look met Faith's for a moment--then rested on Mr. +Linden, and then with that little tide of feeling deepening its sweet +flow, the eyes fell, the unbent lips wavered and trembled. Faith +ventured only a silent act of free-masonry; a fast clasp of her fingers +round Miss Linden's hand that rested on her waist; but maybe never yet +in their short friendship had they felt their hearts beat so close +together. With one, there was perhaps some old recollection or +association--some memory of the time when such a day had been first +talked of, that made self-command a hard matter; for though the lips +presently grew still, and the eyes quiet, the gravity that remained was +easily stirred, and the voice spoke doubtfully. + +There was more discussion of various things that evening than Faith +cared for, but it could not be helped. Sunday brought a lull of +discussions. But the gravity which sat on Faith's face that morning was +not the less but the more. If a guardian angel had shewn himself +bodily, his face might have worn such a pure distance from low and +trifling things and like kindred with the blue sky and the truth it +emblematizes. That day was the first of her new life to Faith. Not such +to Mr. Linden; but it was the first of her seeing him publicly take the +office to which his life was to be given, and in which hers was to be +by his side. She was a very grave "sunbeam" when she set out to walk to +church--and as clear! + +There were sunbeams in plenty of the literal kind abroad; it was a +perfect day; and everybody was glad of that, though some people +remarked it would have made no difference if it had rained +cannon-balls. Never did Pattaquasset see such a coming to church! never +in the remembrance of Mr. Somers. They came from all over; the country +was gleaned; and many a fire was raked up on the hearthstone that day +which most Sundays got leave to burn and somebody to watch it. The +fishermen came from Quapaw, and the labourers from the farms all over +the country; those who did not directly know Mr. Linden, knew of him; +and knew such things of him that they would not have missed this +opportunity of hearing him speak, for a week's wages. The fathers and +mothers of the boys he had taught, _they_ knew him; and they came in +mass, with all their uncles, aunts and cousins to the remotest degree, +provided they were not geographically too remote. The upper society of +Pattaquasset lost not a man nor a woman; they were all there, some with +great love, others with great curiosity. The Stoutenburghs had plumed +themselves. Mr. Simlins was as upright as his new beaver. Miss Essie De +Staff with magnified black eyes; Judge Harrison with benevolent +anticipation. Mr. Stephens the fisherman had driven his little lame +child down to the Pattaquasset church, "for once;" Jonathan Ling was +there with his wife, having left the eldest child to keep house, and +both being in great smartness and expectation. Jonathan Fax was there +and his new wife; the one with a very grave head, the other with a very +light one, and faces accordingly. Mrs. Derrick and Pet had long ago +been quietly seated; when through that full house, after her Sunday +school duties were over, Faith came in. Her colour was very bright, and +she trembled; but it was not because many saw in her an object of +curiosity; though Faith remembered it, at that minute she did not care. +She felt the stillness of expectation that filled the house, with which +the little murmur of sound now and then chimed so well; the patter of +childish feet that followed her up the aisle spoke so keenly to her +wrought up feeling of the other one of her class, who used to follow +him with such delight, that Faith felt as if the happy little spirit +long since received in at the golden gates, was even there in the +church, to hear once more his beloved teacher. Who else?--what other +angel wings stirred in the soft breeze that floated through from door +to door?--what other unseen, immortal senses waited on those dear +mortal lips?--Faith's step grew lighter, her breath more hushed; eyes +might look at her--she looked not at them. + +And eyes did look, from all sorts of motives; perhaps in the whole +church there was not a person who did not try to see her, except the +one who next to herself was the most interested--Pet never moved. Her +head was bent, her hand half supporting half concealing in its +position, like any statue she sat there, nor even stirred when the stir +of every one else told who had come in. If she held her breath to bear +every one of her brother's steps as he passed by, she did not look at +him; did not raise her head till his first prayer was ended; then her +rapt gaze was as unwavering. + +The service which followed could not be measured by the ordinary line +and rule of pulpit eloquence and power,--could not be described by most +of the words which buzz down the aisles after a popular sermon. There +was not the "newness of hand" of a young preacher--for almost from +boyhood Mr. Linden had been about his Master's work. To him it was as +simple a thing to deliver his message to many as to one,--many, many of +those before him had known his private ministrations, and not a few had +through them first known the truth; and now to all these assembled +faces he was just what each had seen him alone; as humble, as earnest, +as affectionate, as simply speaking not his own words,--for "Who hath +made man's mouth--have not I, the Lord?" No one who heard the +ambassador that day, doubted from what court he had received his +credentials. "In trust with the gospel!" Yes, it was that; but that +with a warm love for the truth and the people that almost outran the +trust. As the traveller in the fountain shade of the desert calls to +the caravan that passes by through the sand,--as one of the twelve of +old, when Christ "blessed and brake and gave to his disciples, and the +disciples to the multitude"; so did he speak from the words-- + + "Eat, O friends!--drink, yea drink abundantly, O beloved!" + + +There were some there who would never forget that day. There were many +to whom it seemed, that not the warm summer breeze that floated in was +gentler or sweeter than the feeling that filled the place. The little +lame girl, and her older and rougher father and mother, listened alike +to their dear friend with moveless eyes; and drank such a draught of +those sweet waters as it was long, long since either of them had tasted +in a church. It was a white day for all the fishing population; and +nothing would have kept them from coming in the afternoon. Miss Essie's +black eyes lost all their fire. Farmer Simlins, unknown to himself, sat +and smiled. And the one who listened most tenderly and joyfully, +listened indeed quietly to the last word, or till her face had leave to +bow itself from sight; quietly then no longer, only that such tears +come from no broken-up fountains of unrest. They came freely, as Faith +recalled and applied the whole of her quoted sentence of Paul to the +Thessalonians-- + +"_For as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the gospel_, +SO WE SPEAK." + + +She was very quiet when the benediction was spoken, but she drew her +veil closely as they left the church. + +It was a lingering getting out, even for them, because others would +linger. Some turned to look, some stopped to speak; and if Mr. Linden +had had twenty hands they would all have found employment. Part of this +the two veiled figures saw as they made their way to the door, and +there Miss Linden paused and looked back. The broad stream of sunlight +that lay across the church, the shadowy background figures,--in that +very spot of light, Mr. Linden,--made a never-to-be-forgotten picture. +Reuben Taylor stood close behind him, a step back, looking down; little +Ency Stephens perched up on the pew cushions had one hand; Robbie +Waters--far down below the other. Phil Davids and his father, Squire +Stoutenburgh, and some of the Quapaw fishermen made up the group. Pet +gave one look, and then she went swiftly down the steps and on. + +Slowly the people scattered away, up and down the road; not with the +brisk steps and busy voices that give token the church service has but +interrupted--not suspended--the current of everyday thought and +behaviour. It was a fair picture of a Sunday in a New England village; +the absolute repose of nature copied and followed by hands that other +days let nothing stand still. Before Faith and Pet got home the road +was almost empty. Mr. Linden had overtaken them, but all his greeting +was to put Faith's hand on his arm--then he walked as silent as they. +It was a little thing, and yet it touched the very feeling she had had +all day--the beginning of her new way of life, with him. + +The afternoon was like the morning. Not a creature was missing of all +who from far and near had filled the house in the former part of the +day! and doubtless it was well that Mr. Somers could not hear the +spoken and unspoken wishes that would have unseated him and caused him +to relinquish for ever his charge in Pattaquasset. + +The afternoon air was enticing, the afternoon walk home very lingering; +then standing in the hall to look and taste it still, the sweet peace +of everything seemed to enter every heart. Even Pet, who all day had +been unheard and almost unseen, stood with clasped hands looking out; +and only the heavy eyes spoke of the oppression that had been. But as +she looked the tears came back again, and then she turned to Mr. +Linden--wrapping her arms round his neck. + +"Endy, Endy!--do you remember the first time we talked of this day?" + +Mr. Linden gave back her caresses without a word, but with a look of +pain that Faith had rarely seen on his face. It was some minutes before +he spoke. "Dear Pet--she knows it now!" + +Miss Linden looked up then, mastering her tears, and with a broken +"Forgive me, Endy--" she kissed him and went away up stairs. But Mr. +Linden did not look out any more. He went into the sitting-room, and +resting his face on his hand sat there alone and still, until Faith +came to call him to tea. + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + + + +"Now my two pets," said Mr. Linden as they left the table Monday +morning, "what are you going to do?" + +"_I_ am going to work," said his sister. "Mrs. Derrick and I have +business on hand. You can have Faith." + +"There is an impression of that sort on my own mind." + +"But I mean to-day. Except for about five minutes every half hour." + +"It would be needless for me to say what I am going to do," observed +Faith quietly. + +"If that is a little piece of self assertion," said Mr. Linden, "allow +me respectfully to remark that my 'impression' had no reference to the +present time. Do you feel mollified?" + +"No," said Faith laughing. "You are wide of the mark." + +"Then will you please to state your intentions?--So far from being +needless, it will be what Mr. Somers would call 'gratifying.'" + +"I don't know," said Faith merrily. "I understand that if I tell you, +you will say I have no time for them!"-- + +"For them!--enigmatical. Who told you what I would say?--Ask me." But +Faith laughed. + +"I am going to make Pet and you some waffles for tea." + +"Do they require more time than shortcakes?" + +Faith stood before him quietly as if she had a great deal to say. "I am +going to make bread, for mother and all of us." + +"What else?" + +"Sponge cake, I think." + +"And after that?" + +"Crust for pot-pie." + +"De plus?" + +"Curds,"--said Faith, looking down now. + +"Pourquoi, Mademoiselle?" + +"To eat," said Faith demurely. "You like them." + +"Mademoiselle, I prefer you." + +"Each in its way,"--replied Faith admirably well, but with a glance, +nevertheless. + +"There is only one in my way," said Mr. Linden. "Well does that +complete the circuit?--I suppose nothing need go between cheese and +bread _but_ waffles?" + +"I shall wish--and I suppose you would wish that I should, look over +strawberries." + +"Where do you commonly do all these things?" + +"The sponge cake and the strawberries in the other room--other things +in the kitchen." + +"We may as well begin as we are to go on!" said Mr. Linden. "If you +will not come and keep me company I must do that for you. Faith, I +think Miss Essie's statement of facts was much like the artistic +representation of lions and men, in the fable!" + +Faith did not at all dislike this compounding of matters; and so the +strawberries were looked over, and the sponge cake beaten in the +dining-room; with various social enlivenings. For besides Mr. Linden's +calls upon her attention, and the subjects by him presented to be +looked over along with the strawberries, Faith made now and then a run +into the kitchen to see Mrs. Derrick or Cindy there; and if the runs up +stairs were less frequent, they took more time. For Miss Bezac had +arrived, and she and Miss Linden were deep in the white folds of +Faith's muslin dress. There too was Mrs. Derrick, for the touch and the +making of that dress stirred her very heart. Faith was often in +demand,--not to use her needle, but her taste--or to be fitted, or +'tried on,' as Miss Bezac said. + +Coming back from one of these "trying" visits to the three workers, +Faith found Mr. Linden by the sitting-room table; before him a package, +in his hands a letter. + +"Faith," he said, "come and look at this." Faith ran in from the +strawberries. + +"Rosy fingers are not needed," said Mr. Linden, "but as eyes are first +called for they may pass. Sit down here by me, Mignonette, and take off +this wrapping paper." + +Which very curiously and amusedly, and now with a little suspicious +tinge in her cheeks, Faith did; remarking that she could not help her +fingers being rosy. + +"Keep the roses to their chosen location," said Mr. Linden gravely, as +the first paper parted right and left and shewed a second, which bore +this inscription.--"For Mrs. Endecott Linden--with the warmest regards +and respects of W. and L. Olyphant." Faith suddenly jumped up, pushed +back her chair and whisked back to the strawberries, where she was +found diligently putting the hulls into a dish by themselves. + +"Mignonette, your fingers will be more rosy than ever." Mr. Linden +spoke from the doorway where he stood watching her. Then coming forward +he laid a key on the table. "That belongs to you." + +"Wouldn't you be so good as to take care of it? You see I am busy." + +"No my dear, I will not be so good. You shall have that pleasure--as a +reward for running away. Would you like to hear this letter?" + +"If you please--" Faith said with a little hesitation. + +"You shall read it to yourself if you like better--" but he read it to +her, after all. It was a pretty letter, shewing so well Mr. Linden's +place in the writer's affection that Faith could not but enjoy it. +Neither could she dislike the messages to herself though they did cost +her a few roses. As to the contents of the package the letter gave no +hint. + +"What is that the key of, Endy?" she said, glancing up after the letter +was finished. + +"I don't know!"--Faith went on with her strawberries. + +Through the open hall door came little uneven steps, tracking on +through other open doors even to the dining-room,--there the steps and +Charles twelfth came to a pause. + +"Ma said," he began,--then fixed his eyes and mind on Mr. Linden with a +concentration that was marvellous. The general attire and appearance of +the little potentate were as usual, but both hands were in use to +support a heavy mass of red coral, hugged up to his blue apron in the +most affectionate manner. With a sigh of relief Charles twelfth +withdrew his attention from Mr. Linden long enough to set the coral on +the floor, then gazed anew, with his hands behind him. + +"Charley!" said Faith laughing,--"what are you doing!--and what have +you done?" + +"Ma said--" began the child, stopping short as before. + +"Charles twelfth," said Mr. Linden holding out his hand "do you never +use anything but your eyes? Come here and speak to me. Who is prime +minister now?" + +"You,"--was the very prompt reply. "Ma said so yesterday." + +The laugh in Mr. Linden's eyes as he looked at Faith, was a thing to +see. "Faith," he said, "the conversation is in your hands!" + +Faith was in doubtful readiness to speak. "Charley!"--she said as soon +as she could,--"come here. Was that all your ma said?" + +"No," said the boy, "she said a heap more." + +"Well what did you come here for to-day?" + +"I came to fetch that--" said Charles twelfth with another sigh. + +"Poor child!--What did you bring it for, Charley?" + +"Why for you," said Charley. "Ma said she didn't know when it oughter +come--and she guessed you'd like it, 'cause it used to live off in the +place where you said they eat up babies and people!" and Charles +twelfth's eyes grew large and round with the announcement. "And ma said +she's sorry 'twarnt more. I ain't." + +Faith's eyes went to Mr. Linden with a flash and a burst of the +uncontrollable little laugh; but after that they were suspiciously +downcast, and Faith busied herself in providing little Charles twelfth +with the refreshment of a good saucer of sugared strawberries, with +which he sat down in a corner much consoled. And when he was setting +off again, Faith gave him a whispered message to ask his mother to come +and see her Thursday. Just what Mr. Linden saw in the piece of red +coral he did not declare, but when Faith came back to the table he was +looking at it very fixedly. + +"Faith," he said, "that is not the worst token, nor the worst +envoy--that might be. What a shy child you were that first time I took +you down there! And you have not changed any too much," he added, +carrying her off to the other room. "I am not sure that you ought to be +indulged--suppose you open this box." + +"You do it, please, Endecott!"--she said with a crimson rush to her +cheeks. + +"I do not believe there is any explosive material under such an +address,--however, if there is I prefer that my hands should fire the +train. Stand back, Faith!"--and with cautious and laughing deliberation +the key was turned and the lid raised. It was a very plain lid, by the +way--mere white pine. + +"There is nothing here (that appears) but silk paper and cotton,--not +gun cotton, probably," said Mr. Linden. "Faith, do you wish me to risk +my safety any further?" + +"Yes."-- + +"My dear, you must have more courage. If I am to open all your boxes I +shall have my hands full, and--ne vous en deplaise--I would rather see +the work in yours." And she was seated before the portentous pine box, +Mr. Linden keeping his stand at her side. Faith blushed and didn't like +it; but applied her fingers with a sort of fearful delicacy to the silk +paper and cotton, removing one after the other. + +The box had interior divisions, by way of help to the silk paper, its +different contents being thus more securely separated. Faith's fingers +exploring among the papers brought out first a silver chocolate pot, +then the dainty china cups for the same, then the spoons, in size and +shape just suiting the cups. Spoons and chocolatiere were marked with +the right initials; the cups--chocolate colour themselves, that no drop +of the dark beverage might hurt their beauty--had each a delicate gilt +F. L. twining about the handle. + +If the givers could have seen the gift uncovered and inspected!--the +rosy delight in Faith's cheeks, the pleasure in her eye! They would +have considered themselves rewarded. She looked and bent over the +pretty things, her attitude and blush half veiling her admiration and +satisfaction, but there was no veiling them when she looked up at Mr. +Linden. "I am so glad you like chocolate!"--she said naively. But it +was worth a hundred remarks of aesthetic criticism. + +"I am so glad I do!" he said, stooping to kiss her. "Faith, one would +almost imagine some bird of the air had told them our chocolate +associations." + +"Now won't you put these back for me?" said Faith,--"because, if that +sponge cake is to get done to-day I haven't two minutes to lose!" + +The pretty chocolatiere was but the beginning, as Faith soon found. +Found to her most utter and unbounded astonishment--though to that of +no one else. + +Tuesday arrived a packet from Madame Danforth, accompanied by a note of +affection and congratulation. The present was peculiar. A satin sachet, +embroidered after the little Frenchwoman's desire, and to do it justice +very exquisitely scented, was the first thing. A set of window curtains +and toilet cover, of a curious and elaborate pattern of netting, made +of very fine thread,--a manufacture in which Madame Danforth delighted +and on which she prided herself,--was the second thing. The third was a +pretty breakfast service of French china. + +Faith enjoyed them all, with some amusement and some pleasure of +possession, and not a little affectionate remembrance. Even the sachet, +in this view, was particularly precious; that was the only use Faith +saw in it. But the next arrival gave her a great start. + +It was again this time a deal box, but immensely heavy; and it was a +strong box that Faith did not attempt to open; marked only 'Grover & +Baker', which told her nothing. There was no occasion indeed. A note +was delivered with the box, and a small covered basket. The note +conveyed the assurance of Sophy Harrison's love and a request that +Faith would let her shew it on the present occasion. It went on.-- + + + +"Papa has sent you, dear Faith, an odd thing for a present--for _such_ +a present--but I haven't been able to put it out of his head. He +insists it is what you ought to have, and that he shall have the +pleasure of giving it to you To save you the trouble of opening the box +before you want it, I will state that it contains a _sewing machine_. +Papa has taken great pains to satisfy himself--and it is certainly the +best or one of the best. My offering, dear Faith, is in the basket, and +may be looked at with less difficulty." + + + +Miss Sophy's offering was a kindly one. She had sent a little invoice +of silver spoons and forks. Faith was pleased; and yet she looked +grave, and very grave, over these things. She made no remark whatever +to say why. + +If no one else knew there was to be a wedding, at least the express man +did!--and probably in his mind joined these new packages with those he +had so often brought before, very comfortably. The next arrival was a +delicate pair of silver salt-cellars and spoons from Mr. Alcott,--then +a little framed sketch from the Captain of the Vulcan, portraying the +meeting of two steamers at sea, with these words underneath--'The +despatch post'. At which Mr. Linden looked with much amusement. Faith +was delighted. + +First on Wednesday morning came Miss Bezac,--bringing the well assorted +tokens of an elaborate needlebook and a simple bread trencher and +knife; and staying only long enough to say, "You see, Faith, what made +me think of this, was that the first time I heard of _that_, was when +you came in for bread and milk. And now you'll have to think of me, +whether you sew or eat!"--with which triumphant sentiment Miss Bezac +departed. + +They say ill news flies fast,--in this case so did the good: certainly +people are quick to hear and understand what pleases them. The friends +who had heard from Pet or Mrs. Iredell what was to be, had spread the +information: and in the same sort of way, from two or three old family +dependants another class of Mr. Linden's friends had heard it. Perhaps +among all her presents the little tokens from these people touched her +most. They came queerly done up and directed, sometimes the more formal +'Mrs. Linden' changed into an ill-spelled '_For Mr. Endecott's +wife_'--or '_For the young lady, in care of Mr. Linden_'. She knew the +names thereto appended as little as they knew hers,--could only guess +the vocations,--the tokens were various. A pair of elaborately carved +brackets,--a delicate rustic footstool, trimmed with acorns and +cones,--a wooden screw pincushion, with a flaming red velvet top,--a +case of scissors, pretty enough to have come from anybody, declared the +trade of the sender by the black finger marks on the brown wrapper, and +a most mysteriously compiled address. One of the old sailors who had +crossed with Mr. Linden long ago, sent by Pet's hands a stuffed +tropical bird of gorgeous colours; a woman who had once been upper +servant in his mother's house, sent by the same messenger a white +toilet cushion, made exactly after one that had belonged to her +mistress and which she had been allowed to keep. It was worth while to +see Mr. Linden examine these things,--every name was familiar to him, +every one called up some story or recollection. Alternating with these, +came richer presents,--books and vases and silver; then from the poor +people in and about Pattaquasset, a couple of corn husk mats, a nest of +osier baskets. The children brought wild flowers and wild strawberries, +the fishermen brought fish, till Mrs. Derrick said, "Child, we might as +well begin to lay down for winter!" + +Ency Stephens, having got Reuben to bring her two fine long razor +shells, had transformed them into a pincushion. This she sent, with a +kiss, by Mr. Linden. + +"I half promised her that she might come before the rest of the world +to-morrow, Faith," he said. "She never saw any one married, and has the +greatest desire to see you--and I said if you were willing, Reuben +should bring her here at one o'clock." Faith was just then exploring +the contents of a new package--or rather two: one of as many spools of +white thread as she had scholars in her little class, (presented by +Robbie Waters,) the other a wee far-sent carved box of curled maple. +She looked up with wet eyes. + +"Oh let her come, Endecott--I should like to have her here." + +Faith had been living in a strange atmosphere this week. The first +presents that came simply pleased and amused her to a great degree; +Judge Harrison's and his daughter's she saw with a strong admixture of +painful feeling. But as tokens from rich and poor began to throng +in--not of respect for her wedding-day so much as of respect and love +for Mr. Linden,--Faith's mood grew very tender and touched. Never +perhaps, since the world stood, did anybody receive wedding presents +from friends known and unknown with a more gentle and humble +heart-return to the senders. There was no least thing of them all that +Faith did not dearly value; it told her of something so much better +than the gifts, and it signified of a link that bound her with that. +How beautiful to her eyes the meanest of all those trifles did seem! +and for the rest, she was as quick to be delighted with what was really +beautiful and glad of what would be really useful, as any sensible +child could have been. So the amusement with which the week began +changed into a grave, loving, and somewhat timid appreciation of each +new arrival. + +Meanwhile, on Faith's table stood a little silver saucepan sent by Mrs. +Somers with the sage remark that she would want it for others if not +for herself; and near by, a beautiful butter cup and knife from Mrs. +Stoutenburgh. With the butter cup trotted down a little mountain pony, +with the daintiest saddle and bridle that the Squire could find for +money. + +Miss Linden's love had chosen for itself sundry channels; from the +silver knives--of all sorts--which made their appearance now, to +various comforts, great and small, which were to await her brother and +sister in their new home. In those Mrs. Iredell too had a share; her +present token was a silver tea-service, whereon the chasing developed +itself in sprays of mignonette. A mark of attention which Mr. Linden at +least appreciated. + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + + + +It was very early indeed in the still sweet morning of Thursday, when +Faith threw open the windows and blinds of the sitting-room. No one was +abroad, and not even a wind moving. The leaves of the trees hung +motionless; except where a bird stirred them; the dawn was growing +slowly into day; sweet odours called forth by the dew, floated up to +the windows, and the twitter and song of the birds floated in. The +freshness and stillness and calmness of all the earth was most sweet. +Faith could not read; she knelt upon a low cushion at the open window +and leaned her arms upon the sill to look out, and breathe, and think +and pray. The morning was not unlike her. She was as fresh, and as +grave, and as still; and there was a little flutter now and then too in +her heart, that went with nothing worse than the song of the birds, +though it stirred something more than the leaves of the branches. So +Mr. Linden found her. + +So she met them all at breakfast, with the same unready eyes and lips +that Mr. Linden had seen before. It was odd how Faith seemed to have +put off the full realization of Thursday till Thursday came. After +breakfast she was making her escape, but was detained before she +reached the staircase. What it was that Mr. Linden fastened in her +dress, Faith could not have told; neither did his words tell her. + +"You must not think me extravagant, Mignonette,--these are some old +gems of mine which I want you to wear in this form." He gave her one +grave kiss and let her go. Faith sped up stairs; and with a fluttering +heart went to see what Mr. Linden had done.--Yes, they were +gems,--clear, steadfast, as the eternal truth which they signified, the +blue sapphires shone upon Faith's white dress. + +Faith was alone; and she sat before the glass an odd long while, +studying the brooch where Mr. Linden had placed it. Her head upon her +hand, and with much the same sort of face with which she used long ago +to study Pet's letters, or some lesson that Pet's brother had set her. +From the sapphires Faith turned to her Bible. She was not, or would not +be interrupted, till it was time to attend to business. + +The first business was presented for her attention by Miss Linden, who +came in, basket in hand. There was no need to ask what it was, such a +breath of orange flowers and roses filled the room. She found Faith +ready; her hair dressed as it always was; her mind too, to judge by +appearances. Only Faith was a little more quiet than usual. With the +very quietness of love and sympathy, Pet did her part; with the +swiftest fingers, the most noiseless steps. Silent as Mrs. Derrick or +Faith herself, only a sparkle of the eyes, a pretty flush on the +cheeks, said that she viewed the matter from a greater distance. And +yet hardly that, so far as one of the parties was concerned. Never +putting her hand forward where Mrs. Derrick's liked to be, it was most +efficient in other places. Both used their skill to put the soft muslin +safely over Faith's smooth hair, but then Mrs. Derrick was left to +fasten and adjust it--Pet applied herself to adjusting the flowers. How +dainty they were: those tiny bunches! sprays of myrtle and orange +flowers, or a white rose-bud and a more trailing stem of ivy geranium; +the breast-knot just touched with purple heliotrope and one blush rose. +Kneeling at her feet to put on the rosetted slippers, Pet looked up at +her new sister with all her heart in her eyes. And Faith looked down at +her--like a child. + +She had been dressed in Pet's room--her own, as being larger and more +commodious than the one where Faith had stowed herself lately; and when +the dressing was done she sat down by the open window, and with the odd +capriciousness of the mind at certain times, thought of the day when +Mr. Linden had thrown her up the cowslip ball,--and in the same breath +wondered who was going to take her down stairs! + +But she sat quiet, looking as fair in her soft robe with its orange +flowers as if they and she had been made for each other. Faith's hair, +in its rich colour, was only dark enough to set off the tender tints of +her flowers and dress; it wanted neither veil nor adornment. The very +outlines of her figure betokened, as outlines are somewhat apt to do, +the spirit within; without a harsh angle or line. And nothing could be +too soft, or strong, or pure, to go with those eyes. She sat looking +out into the orchard, where now the noonday of summer held its still +reign--nothing there but the grass and the trees and the insects. The +cowslips were gone; and Mr. Linden---- + +Pet finished all that had been left unfinished of her own dress, then +in her rose-coloured summer silk, white gloves in her hand, white +flowers on her breast, she came and stood by Faith. Mrs. Derrick had +gone down stairs. It was close upon one o'clock now; the shadows were +losing their directness and taking a slant line, the labourers were +coming back to their work, standing about and taking off their coats, +waiting for the clock to strike. Miss Linden stood drawing on her +gloves. Faith gave her one swift glance, which rested for a second on +her face with a look of loving gratitude. A flush rose to her cheek, as +if it might have been the reflection of Miss Linden's dress; but it was +not that, for it paled again. + +One o'clock! + +It would have seemed a less weird sort of thing if the clock had made a +little more fuss,--twelve strokes, or even eleven, would have been +something tangible; but that one clang--scarce heard before it was +gone, dying away on the June breeze,--what a point of time it seemed! +The waves of air were but just at rest, when Mrs. Derrick opened the +door and came in; her black dress and white cap setting off a face and +demeanour which, with all their wonted sweet placidness, and amid all +the tender influences of the day, kept too their wonted energy. + +"Come, pretty child!" she said. + +Faith was ready, and followed her mother without a question. In the +hall Mr. Linden stood waiting for her, and she was given into his care; +though again Faith lost the look which passed between the two,--she saw +only the startling white of Mr. Linden's gloves. He handed her down +stairs, then gave her his arm and took her in; Mrs. Derrick going +first, and Pet following. + +There were but six or eight people there. On one side sat Mrs. Iredell +in her rich dress; the rest were standing, except little Ency Stephens, +who was in one of her perched-up positions by the window. Mr. Somers +was lingering about _his_ position, his wife and Mr. and Mrs. +Stoutenburgh were opposite to Mrs. Iredell. Reuben Taylor furthest back +of all, in the shadow of Ency's window. Her little cry was the only +sound as they came in, and that hardly louder than a sigh of delight. + +Faith did not hear it nor look at anybody. Yet she did not look +dismayed at all nor abashed. A piece of very timid gravity the person +nearest her knew her to be; but hardly any person further off. A very +lovely mingling of shy dignity and humility was in her face and air as +she stood before Mr. Somers; those who saw it never forgot. + +Except I must that same Mr. Somers! He saw only a pretty bride, whose +orange flowers and roses were very sweet. He had seen many pretty +brides before, and orange flowers were not new to him. And he +pronounced his part of the service which followed, with gratification, +certainly. Mr. Somers was always gracious, and to-day he was admiring; +but yet with no more sense of what he was about than when a hundred +times before he had pronounced it for--very different people! + +However, there is a great system of compensations in this world; and on +this occasion there was in other members of the party so much sense of +what was doing, that it mattered little about Mr. Somers' want of it. +It mattered nothing to Faith, how his words were spoken; nobody that +heard them forgot how _hers_ were--the sweet clear sounds of every +syllable; only that once or twice she said "yes" where by established +formula she should have said the more dignified "I do." Perhaps "yes" +meant as much. Those who heard it thought it did. + +For Mr. Linden, his senses not being troubled by shyness, just because +his own heart was so thoroughly in what he was about he did perceive +the want of heart in Mr. Somers. And, in the abstract, it did not suit +his notions that even a man who had married five hundred other people +should put such questions to Mignonette, or to him, in a commonplace +way. So far his senses perceived, but Mr. Somers could reach no +further. One touch of Faith's hand had banished the officiate to +another planet; and the vow to love, cherish, and honour, was taken, +word for word, deep in his own heart; the grave, deliberate accents of +assent seeming to dwell upon each specification. Yes, he took her "for +better for worse, in sickness or health, for richer for poorer," every +word was like the counting over of gold to him, it was all "richer." +Even the last words, the limit fixed, shone with light from another +world. "Till death shall you part;" yes, but to them death would be but +a short parting. And standing side by side there with the blessing of +his earthly life, Mr. Linden thanked God in his heart for the future +"life and immortality" to which He had called them both. + +Mysterious is the way in which events are telegraphed from the inside +of a house to the exterior thereof. Hardly were Mr. Somers' last words +spoken, Faith was not yet out of Mr. Linden's hands, when there came a +peal from the little white church as if the bell-ringing of two or +three Sundays were concentrated in one. Much to the surprise of Mr. +Somers; who, to speak truth, rather thought the bells were his personal +property, and as such playing truant. But in two seconds the other bell +chimed in; and all that could ever be known, was, that Phil Davids and +Joe Deacon had been seen in closer attendance on the two churches than +they were wont to be week days. Meantime the bells rang. + +It was done; and those downcast eyes must be lifted up, if they could. +But Faith was not unlike her usual manner. The slight air of timidity +which sat with such grace upon her was not so very unusual; and that +besides touched only or mainly one person. With blushing quietness she +let her friends kiss and congratulate her. It was rather kiss and +caress her; for they came about her, that little bevy of friends, with +a warmth that might have thawed Mr. Somers. Mrs. Derrick and Pet glad +and silent, Reuben Taylor very shy, the Stoutenburghs in a little furor +of interest which yet did not break pretty bounds. And then Faith went +up to Ency where she sat by the window, and gave her two kisses, very +grave and sweet. + +"How beautiful you are, ma'am!" was the child's truthful comment. + +"Do you know who 'Miss Faith' is now, Ency?"--"Yes sir," the child +said, then shy of speaking it out, "Stoop down and I'll tell you." + +Mr. Linden bent his head to hear the whisper, giving her a kiss in +return, and then carried Faith off to the next room; where presently +too the little lame girl was perched up at such a table as she had +never dreamed of before. + +It was a pretty gathering, both on the table and around it. The party +of friends, few enough to be choice, were good and different enough to +be picturesque; and had among them a sufficient amount of personal +advantages to be, as Ency said, "beautiful." The table itself was very +plain with regard to china and silver; but fruit is beautiful, and +there was an abundance of that. Coffee of course; and cream, yellow as +gold, for coffee and fruit both. There were more substantial things, to +serve as substitutes for dinner, attesting Mrs. Derrick's good +housekeeping at once, and the loving remembrance of friends. There had +been little need to do much in the house. Mrs. Iredell had taken the +wedding cake into her charge, which Mrs. Stoutenburgh not knowing had +taken it into hers, and into her hands as well; so Faith had both the +bought cake, of the richest and best ornamented to a point, and the +home-made; with plain icing indeed, but wherein every raisin had been +put with a sweet thought. + +"This is--ha!--a very agreeable occasion!" said Mr. Somers, smiling at +the ornamented plum cake which was before him. "I--a--really, I don't +see, Mrs. Derrick, how anything could be improved for the pleasure of +the party. We have done a good thing, and to good people, and it's been +well done;" (Mr. Somers vaunted himself), "and in a good +time,--ha--this is the prettiest month in the year, Mr. Linden; and now +we are all enjoying a pleasant sight, before us and around us, and I +enjoy my coffee also very much, Mrs Derrick. The only bad thing about +it is--ha--that it rather spoils one for the next occasion. I assure +you I haven't seen anything like it in Pattaquasset, since I have lived +here! I wasn't married here, Mrs. Stoutenburgh, take notice." + +"I hope you don't mean to say you saw anything that was on the table +the day _you_ were married, Mr. Somers!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh +irreverently. + +"Let's hear what you mean by well done,--let's hear, Mr. Somers," said +the Squire. + +"He means securely," said Mrs. Somers. + +"I feel sure," said Mr. Somers with exquisite significancy, "I feel +sure that _part_ of my audience were at no loss for the meaning of my +words. Experience, somebody says, is the best commentary--hey, Mr. +Linden? is it not so?"--"What, sir?" + +Mr. Somers laughed, gently. "I see you coincide with me in opinion, +sir." + +"I coincide with him in the opinion that it was well done to ring the +bells," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "Reuben, I guess that was your doing." + +"Never mind whose it was," said the Squire, "the bells were never put +to a better use, week days, I'll venture. Mr. Linden, won't that lady +by you let me give her another piece of chicken?"--"No, sir," came in a +low voice that had a private chime of its own. + +"Little bird," said Mr. Linden, softly, "do you know that all your +compeers live by eating?"--"Crumbs" said Faith with equal softness. + +"But of proportionate size!"--"Yes," said Faith. + +"You know," he said in the same low voice, "to go back to our old maxim +those bells may stand for the music, and we have certainly spoken a few +sensible words; but if you do not look up how will you find the +picture?"--She raised her eyes, but it was for a swift full glance up +into his face; she looked nowhere else, and her eyes went back to her +plate again. The involuntary, unconscious significance of the action +made Mr. Linden smile. + +"I have had mine now, Mignonette, and Ency spoke true." + +"How long does it take people to get married," came in a good-humoured +kind of a growl from the room they had left, the door to which was +ajar. "Ain't it done yet?" + +"There's Mr. Simlins, Endecott," whispered Faith, colouring. + +"Come in and see," said Squire Stoutenburgh. "Who wants to know?" +Wherewith the door was pushed open, and Mr. Simlins long figure +presented itself, and stood still. + +"What are you uneasy about, Mr. Simlins?" the Squire went on. "You may +go and shake hands with Mr. Linden, but don't congratulate anybody +else." The farmer's eye rested for a moment on Faith; then he went +round and shook hands with the bridegroom. + +"Is it done?" he asked again in the midst of this ceremony.--"Yes." + +"Past all help, Mr. Simlins," said Mrs. Somers. + +"I am glad, for one!" Mr. Simlins answered. "Mayn't I see this cretur +here? I wish you'd stand up and let me look at you." + +Faith rose up, he had edged along to her. He surveyed her profoundly. +"Be you Faith Derrick?" he said.--"Yes, sir." + +He shook _her_ hand then, holding it fast. "It's the true, and not a +counter," he remarked to Mr. Linden. "Now, if you'd only take +Neanticut, I could die content, only for liking to live and see you. +Where _are_ you going to take her to?"--"I am not sure yet." + +"I guess I don't want you at Neanticut," said the farmer, taking a cup +of coffee which Faith gave him. "Last Sunday fixed that. But there'll a +bushel of Neanticut nuts follow you every year as long as I'm a +Simlins, if you go to the Antipathies. No, I don't want anythin' to +eat--I've done my eatin' till supper-time." + +The door-knocker warned the party that they must not tarry round the +lunch-table, and before Mr. Simlins had a chance to say anything more +he had on his mind, the principal personages of the day were receiving +Judge Harrison and his daughter in the other room. Mr. Simlins looked +on, somewhat grimly, but with inward delight and exultation deep and +strong. Miss Sophy was affectionate, the judge very kind; the +congratulations of both very hearty; though Judge Harrison complained +that Mr. Linden was robbing Pattaquasset, and Sophy echoed the sorrow +if not the complaint. In the midst of this came in Miss Essie de Staff, +with a troop of brothers and sisters; and they had scarcely paid their +compliments when they were obliged to stand aside to make room for some +new comers. Miss Essie's eyes had full employment, and were rather +earnest about it. + +"She's beautifully dressed," she remarked to Mrs. Stoutenburgh, +evidently meditating a good deal more than her words carried. + +"Why, of course!" was Mrs. Stoutenburgh's quick response, "and so is +he. Don't be partial in your examinations." + +"Oh he, of course!" said Miss Essie, in the same manner. + +"I never saw two people set each other off better," said Mrs. +Stoutenburgh. + +"Set each other off?" repeated Miss Essie. "Why he'd set anybody off! I +always admired him. Look at her! she hasn't an idea how to be +ceremonious." Faith had been speaking to Mrs. Iredell. Just then a +rosebud having detached itself from her dress, she went round the room +to Ency by her window and gave it to her. Near this window Miss Linden +had placed herself; the table before her covered with wedding cake and +white ribbon, Reuben Taylor at her side to cut and fold, her little +fingers daintily wrapping and tying up. Ency already held her piece of +cake and white ribbon, and with the promise of other pieces to take +home, watched Miss Linden's proceedings with interest. It was a busy +table, for thither came everybody else after cake and white ribbon. +Thither came Mrs. Stoutenburgh now, quitting Miss Essie. + +"Faith, what do you think Mr. Stoutenburgh asked me Sunday?"--"I don't +know. What?" asked Faith, with her half-shy, half free, very happy face. + +"You should have heard him!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, laughing, but +speaking in the softest of whispers. "You should have heard the dismal +way in which he asked me if Mr. Somers would go anywhere else, if he +could get a chance." + +Faith smiled, but evidently to her the question whether Mr. Linden +should stay in Pattaquasset had lost its interest. + +"O I can find her, never fear!" said Miss Bezac, followed by Mr. Linden +in Faith's direction. "Though I don't suppose you ever did fear +anything. And I do suppose, if I've thought once I have fifty times how +she'd look to-day, and I was right every time. Don't she look! I always +told her she didn't know what she wanted--and I'm sure she don't now." +With which Miss Bezac gave Faith as hearty a congratulation as she had +yet received. "Well," she said, turning to Mr. Linden, "do you wonder I +wanted to make it?"--"Not in the least." + +"But what do I want, Miss Bezac?" said Faith laughing and looking +affectionately at her old friend and fellow-work-woman. + +"Why I should think nothing," said Miss Bezac. "So it seems to me. And +talking of seams--didn't I do yours! Do you know I should have come +before, but I never can see two people promise to love each other +forever without crying--and crying always makes rusty needles--so I +wouldn't come till now, when everybody's laughing." Faith was an +exception, for her amusement grew demure. And Miss Essie approached. + +Now Miss Essie's black eyes, although bright enough, were altogether +gracious, and in a certain way even propitiatory. They were bent upon +the gentleman of the group. + +"Mr. Linden," said the lady with her most flattering manner, "I want to +know if you have forgiven me all my dreadful speeches that I made once." + +"Miss Essie, I never questioned your right to make them, therefore you +see my forgiveness has no place." Miss Essie looked as if her "study" +of Mr. Linden hadn't been thorough. + +"That's very polite," she said; "too polite. But do you think Mrs. +Linden will ever let me come into her house?" + +"Why not? It cannot be worse than you imagined." + +"Because," said Miss Essie, earnestly, "I want to come, and I am afraid +she will not ask me. I go everywhere, and wherever you are I shall be +sure to come there some time; and then I want to see you and see how +you live, and see if my theory was mistaken. But I drew it from +experience!" + +"Did you ever hear of the ice palace the little brook built for +himself?" said Mr. Linden.--"Lowell, oh yes!" + +"Mrs. Linden thinks she would like to try that." + +If ever black eyes were thoroughly puzzled, that were Miss Essie's. She +glanced from Mr. Linden to Faith, who had fallen back towards another +part of the room, but whose cheek gave token of her having heard and +noticed. Miss Essie's eyes came back; she looked a little mortified. + +"I see you have not forgiven me," she said. "But, Mr. Linden, I only +spoke of what I had seen. I had been unfortunate; and I am sure I +needn't confine myself to the past tense! I knew nothing, you know." + +"Miss Essie," he said, smiling, "your frame for the picture may be +correct, but the picture will be different. As you will see when you +come." + +"Then you will let me come?"--"I will let you come. Only if you hear +that Faith is not at home, do not feel sure of the fact till you have +looked in my study." + +Miss Essie's face for a moment was notable. She was in a certain way +satisfied, and yet it wore a sort of compound mortification +inexplicable very likely, to the lady herself, and perhaps, that only +an acute eye of another would have read. + +Before this dialogue had reached so much of a culmination, Mr. Simlins, +who had been standing looking at everything like a good-humoured bear, +made his way across the room, and through the people to Faith, where +she had shrunk back out of the way. + +"I can't stay here all the afternoon!" said he, "and I s'pose it aint +expected of me. Can't you step over yonder and let a man have a chance +to say a word to you, before I go?" + +Faith agreed to this proposition, not knowing that it was going to take +her literally into a corner; but to one of the further corners of the +room Mr. Simlins strode, and Faith went after him; and there he sat +down and she was fain to do likewise. Then he wasn't ready. + +"I had somethin' to say to you," said he, "but I don't know how to say +it!"--"Try, Mr. Simlins," said Faith, smiling. + +"How does the dominie manage to talk to you?" said he, looking at her. +"_I_ don't see how he can get on with it." + +Faith grew crimson, and grave. + +"Well," said the farmer, smiling a bit, "I s'pose I'll have to get it +out somehow. You see, Faith, the thing is, in my mind, I want you to +have something that'll make you--you and him too--think of Pattaquasset +and me once in a while. Now I'm goin' to give you that black heifer. If +you can, I hope you'll take her with you whereever you're goin'--if you +can't, why you may turn her into cash; but I guess you can. She's a +real Simlins--she'll run, if you don't keep a fence round her; but if +you treat her right, she'll give you all _your_ dairy'll want for some +time to come; and the very plague you'll be at to keep her shut up, +will make you think of me." + +"Dear Mr. Simlins!" Faith said with her eyes full, "there is no danger +about that!"-- + +"No!" said he rising; "and when you think of me I know you'll do +something else for me. Good-bye, till you get back again." Off he went. +Other people followed. The room had thinned a little, when Pet left her +table in Reuben's charge and came to Faith's corner. + +"Poor child," she said, "you must be tired. Faith, I shall defy +ceremony, and put you in Aunt Iredell's chair; she is going to lie +down. Oh! how did that man get here?--and George Alcott!" Pet faced +round upon Faith, folding her hands with an air of dismayed resignation. + +"What's the matter, Pet?"--"I thought I was safe here," said Miss +Linden. "Faith, I did not suppose ubiquitous people found their way to +Pattaquasset. You'll have to run the gauntlet of that man's +compliments, child, however, Endy is a pretty good safeguard." + +Before Faith could see much of what was going on, Mr. Linden was at her +side. "Mrs. Linden--_Mr. Motley_," was all he said; and Faith found +herself face to face with one of those two well-remembered strangers. +So well remembered that a slight glance at him was arrested, by what at +first she did not recognize, and unconsciously she gave Mr. Motley for +a second a look sufficiently like what he had seen before to identify +her. That second brought it all back. A blush of most rosy beauty came +upon Faith's face, and her eyes fell as if no one was ever to see them +again. Mr. Motley's eyes, on the contrary, expanded. But the whistle +which rose politely to his lips, was held in polite check--by Mr. +Linden's presence or some other consideration--and with no further sign +than an under breath "Linden!" Mr. Motley gave the bride his hand, +claiming that privilege in easy, musky words, on the score of old +acquaintanceship with the bridegroom. + +"I trust Mrs. Linden has been well since I last (and first!) had the +pleasure of seeing her? Apart from the occasion--it seems to me that +she is looking even better than then--though _then_ I should not have +believed that possible." + +"It is a long time, sir," Faith said gravely. + +"Linden," said Mr. Motley in a sort of aside, "even your symmetrical +taste must be satisfied!" + +"With what?" said Mr. Linden. Which rather shortly--put question +brought Mr. Motley to a stand. Much as when one pushes on into daylight +through the filmy finespun work of a spider, that respectable insect +looks about, considering where he shall begin anew. + +"It is so long," said Mr. Motley with soft emphasis, "that I could +hardly have hoped to be remembered." + +"If I recollect right," said Mr. Linden, "if you did not misstate the +case, it was the charms of your conversation that made the impression." + +"You are the most inconvenient person to talk to!" said Mr. Motley with +a glance at the handsome face. "Like a quicksand--closing around one. +Mrs. Linden, do you not find it so? Ah George!--talking to Miss Pet as +usual. Permit me--Mrs. Linden, Mr. Alcott. George, you cannot have +forgotten Mrs. Linden?" That George had not was very clear. + +And that Faith had not forgotten, was very clear. She lifted her eyes +once more, to see if the second _was_ the second; and then stood with +the most exquisite cheeks, though perfectly quiet. Her gloves had not +been put on again since the lunch, and the hand that held them bore +also the ring which had been the gentlemen's admiration. + +"Now what do you think, George," said Mr. Motley, "of Linden's letting +me tell Julius Harrison that whole story, and never giving the least +hint that he knew the lady referred to? Except, yes once indeed, I do +remember, Mrs. Linden, his face took a warm reflection of the subject, +but I thought that was due to my powers as a colourist." + +"You couldn't high-colour that picture," said Mr. Alcott, in a tone +Faith remembered well. "Mrs. Linden, I hope we are to see you at +Newport." + +Faith felt in a tumult with all these "Mrs. Lindens." But all that +seemed unquiet about her, besides her cheeks, was the flashing ring. + +"Well, we must tear ourselves away from this place of fascination," +said Mr. Motley. "I believe, Mrs. Linden, we ought to apologize for our +intrusion, but it was an old saying among this gentleman's friends that +he never would submit to 'bonds and imprisonments'--(there goes the +Bible again!) and some of them had a long-standing permission to come +and believe their eyes if such an event ever should take place. I can +hardly, now!" + +"Why do you, sir?" Faith asked simply. + +"Really, madam, because I can't help it! One look at you, Mrs. Linden, +is enough. In some circumstances all a man can do is to surrender!" + +"He needn't till he's summoned," said George Alcott shortly. Though +whether he had acted so wisely himself was a question, as Mr. Linden +said amusedly after they were gone. + +Faith turned away, feeling as if she had rather more than enough, and +occupied herself with Reuben and Ency again. Then came in Farmer Davids +and his wife, and Phil. Phil was forthwith in a state of "glamour;" but +Faith brought him to the table and gave him cake and discoursed to him +and Reuben; while Mrs. Davids talked to Mrs. Derrick in wonderful +delighted admiration; and the farmer as usual fixed upon Mr. Linden. + +"We had the uncommon pleasure of hearin' you speak last Sunday, sir," +said Mr. Davids with great seriousness. "I sha'n't forget it, what you +said. And you don't know where you're going to fix yourself, sir?" + +"Not certainly." + +"I would rather than half what I sell off the farm, that it was going +to be where I could be within reach of you, sir! But wherever 'tis +Phil, and I, we consulted how we could contrive to show our sense of +this day; we're plain folks, Mr. Linden, and we didn't know how to fit; +but if you'll let us know where you're goin' to be, Mrs. Davids she +wants to send your wife a cheese, and there's some of Phil's apples, +and I want you to have some Pattaquasset flour to make you think of us. +And if you'll only think of us every year as long as they come, it's +all I ask!" It was said with the most honest expression of struggling +regard, and respect, that wanted to show itself. + +Then Mr. Linden was claimed by a new comer. Sam Stoutenburgh, fresh +from College, Quilipeak, and the tailor, presented himself. Now it was +rather a warm day, and trains are not cool, and haste is not a +refrigerator, nevertheless Sam's cheeks were high coloured! His +greeting of Mr. Linden was far less off-hand and dashing than was usual +with this new Junior; and when carried off to Mrs. Linden, Sam (to use +an elegant word) was "flustered." + +"Miss Faith," he began. "No I don't mean that! I beg your pardon, but +I'm very glad to see you again, and I wish you were going to stay here +always." + +Faith laughed. "Will you stay here always yourself, Sam?" + +"O I don't know," said Sam. "It's a while before I've got to do +anything yet. But Miss Faith--I mean! since you will go, won't you +please take this?" and Sam presented a tiny box containing a pretty +gold set cornelian seal, engraved with a spirited Jehu chariot running +away! "It'll remind you of a day _I_ shall never forget," said Sam both +honestly and sentimentally. If Mr. Linden could have helped Faith +answer, he would! + +Faith's face was in a quiver, between laughter and very much deeper and +stronger feeling; but she shook Sam's hand again gratefully.--"I shall +never forget it, Sam, nor what you did for me that day. And I hope +you'll come and see me somewhere else, some time." + +Then Mr. Linden spoke. "No one can owe you so much for that day's work +as I, Sam; and since she is running away again you must do as you did +then, and find her." + +Sam was somewhat touched and overwhelmed, and went off to talk to +Reuben about Miss Linden's dress. A little while longer and the room +was cleared. The two collegians came last of all to say good-bye, +Reuben lingering behind his friend. + +"You know," said Mr. Linden, holding the boy's hand, "you are coming to +study with me, Reuben, if I live; we will not call it good-bye. And I +shall expect to see you before that in vacation." + +"And you know, Reuben," said Faith, very low, "you have been a brother +to me this great while." + +Reuben looked down, trying for words. Then meeting Faith's eyes as he +had done that very first time--what though his own were full--he said, +"I am not sorry, ma'am, I am glad: so glad!" he repeated, looking from +her face to Mr. Linden's. But his eyes fell then; and hastily clasping +the hand she held out to him, he bent his face to Mr. Linden's and +turned away. One quick step Mr. Linden took after him, and they left +the room arm in arm, after the old fashion. + +With Mr. Linden, when he came back, was an oldish gentleman, +silver-haired, with a fresh ruddy face; not very tall, _very_ +pleasant-looking. Pet's exclamation was of joy, this time, and she ran +forward to meet him. Then Mr. Linden brought him up to Faith. +"Mignonette, this is my dear friend, Mr. Olyphant." And Mr. Olyphant +took both her hands and kissed her on both cheeks, as if he meant to be +her friend too: then looked at her without letting go. "Endecott!" he +said, turning to Mr. Linden, "whatever you undertake you always do +well!" And he shook Faith's hands again, and told her he could wish her +joy with a clear conscience. + +The timid little smile which this remark procured him, might have +confirmed the old gentleman in his first-expressed opinion. Mr. +Olyphant studied her a minute, not confusingly, but with a sort of +touched kindliness. + +"_What_ do you call her, Endecott?" he said.--"Any sweet name I can +think of," said Mr. Linden, smiling, "just now, Mignonette." Which +remark had a merciless effect upon Faith's cheeks. + +"It suits her, Mr. Olyphant," said Pet. + +"So I see, Miss Pet. Do you think I have lost my eyes? Endecott, are +you going to bring her to the White Mountains?"--"I think so, sir: that +is my present inclination." + +"How would you like it, Mrs. Linden?"--"I think I should like it, sir." + +"Not afraid of the cold?"--Faith's smile clearly was not afraid of +anything. So was her answer. + +"You must have a house midway on the slope," said Mr. Olyphant; "half +your parish above your heads, half at your feet: and you will have +plenty of snow, and plenty of work, and not much else, but each other. +Endecott's face says that is being very rich but he always was an +unworldly sort of fellow, Mrs. Linden; I don't think he ever saw the +real glitter of gold, yet." + +Did her eyes? But they were unconsciously looking at riches of some +kind; there was no poverty in them. "I like work, sir." + +"Do you think she could bear the cold, Mr. Olyphant? how are the +winters there? That is what I have thought of most." + +"I am no more afraid of the cold than you are, Endecott." How gently +the last word was spoken! But Faith clearly remembered her lesson. + +Mr. Linden smiled. "She is a real little Sunbeam," he said. "You know +they make light of cold weather." + +"Light of it in two ways," said Mr. Olyphant. "No, I don't think you +need fear the winters for her; we'd try and protect her." + +"Do you see how much good the Sunbeam has done him, Mr. Olyphant?" said +Pet.--"I see it, Miss Pet; it does me good. I meant to have been here +to see you married, Endecott, and missed the train. I shall miss it +again, now, if I am not careful. But you must come up and stay with us, +and we'll arrange matters. Such neighbours may tempt me to winter in +the mountains myself, and then I shall take charge of you, Miss Pet." + +"I should like that," said Pet. + +"I see, my dear Mrs. Linden," said Mr. Olyphant, smiling at her, "I see +you follow one of the old Jewish laws." + +"What is that, sir?"--"You know it was required of the Jews that they +should bear the words of the law 'as frontlets between the eyes'. +Now--if you will forgive me for saying so--in your eyes is written one +of the proverbs." + +"Look up, Mignonette, and let me see," said Mr. Linden. But oddly, +Faith looked down first; then the eyes were lifted. + +"Is truth a proverb?" said Pet laughing.--"O you see too many things +there!" said Mr. Olyphant,--"this is what I see, Endecott--'The heart +of her husband doth safely trust in her.'" + +A little veil of shyness and modesty suddenly fell around Faith. Even +her head drooped. But Mr. Linden's lips touched the fair brow between +those very fair eyes. + +"I cannot praise your discernment, sir," he said. "It is not more true +than evident." + +"I cannot half congratulate either of you," said Mr. Olyphant, smiling, +"so I'll go. Good-bye, Miss Pet--remember next winter. Mrs. Linden, we +shall expect to see you long before that time. Let me have a word with +you, Endecott." And Faith was again left alone, entirely this time, for +Miss Linden went up stairs to attend Mrs. Iredell. + +As they turned to go out, Faith turned the other way, and sat down, +feeling overwhelmed. Everything was very still. Pet's light steps +passed off in the distance; through the open windows came the song of +kildeers and robins, the breath of roses, the muslin-veiled sunshine. +Then she heard Mr. Olyphant's carriage drive off, and Mr. Linden came +back. Faith started up, and very lovely she looked, with the timid +grace of those still dyed cheeks and vailed brow. + +"My poor little tired Mignonette!" he said as he came up to her. Then +lifted her face, and looking at it a moment with a half smile, pressed +his lips again where they had been so lately. But this time that did +not satisfy him. + +"Endy," she said presently, "please don't praise me before other +people!" + +"What dreadful thing did I say?" inquired Mr. Linden, laughing. "Do you +know I have hardly seen my wife yet?"--To judge by Faith's face, +neither had she. + +"If I speak of her at all I must speak the truth. But Mr. Olyphant +knows me of old; he will not take my words for more than they are +worth." + +A slight commentary of a smile passed, but Faith did not adventure any +repartee. + +"Are you very tired?"--"Oh no!" + +"Little bird!" said Mr. Linden, holding her close. "What sort of a +sweet spirit was it that said those words at my side this morning?" + +There was no answer at first; and then, very quaint and soft the +words--"Only Faith Derrick." + +"'Only.'--Faith, did you hear my parting direction to Miss +Essie?"--"Yes." + +"Do you agree to it, Mrs. Linden?" + +He had spoken that name a good many times that day, and to be sure her +cheeks had more or less acknowledged it; but this time it brought such +a rush of colour that she stooped her face to be out of sight. + +"Do you want Miss Reason to answer that question, sir?"--"No, nor Miss +anybody." + +"Prudence would say, there are shortcakes," said Faith. + +"Where?"--"In--hypothesis." + +"If your shortcakes outweigh my study, Faith, they will be heavier than +I ever saw them!" + +"You wouldn't take Reason's answer," said Faith. + +"What would it have been?" + +She looked up, a swift little laughing glance into his face. + +"Parlez, Madame, s'il vous plait." + +Her look changed. "You know, Endy, I would rather be there than +anywhere else in the world." + +It moved him. The happiness to which his look bore witness was of a +kind too deep for words. + +"Do you know, love, if we had been going at once to our work in the +mountains, I should have asked a great many people to come here to-day." + +"Would you? why, Endy?"--"To let them see my wife. Now, I mean to take +her to see them." + +Faith was willing he should take her where he pleased, though she made +no remark. Her timidity moved in a small circle, and touched +principally him. Mingling with this, and in all she did, ever since +half past one o'clock to-day, there had been a sort of dignity of grave +happiness; very rare, very beautiful. + +"I wonder if you know half how lovely and dear you are?" said Mr. +Linden, studying the fair outlines of character, as well as of feature. +But Faith's eye went all down the pattern of embroidery on her white +robe, and never dared meet his. "Have you any idea, little Mignonette +of sweetness, after what fashion that proverb is true?" + +She looked up, uncertain what proverb he meant; but then immediately +certain, bent her head again. Faith never thought of herself as Mr. +Linden thought of her. Movings of humility and determination were in +her heart now, but she knew he would not bear to hear her speak them, +and her own voice was not just ready. So she was only silent still. + +"What will make you speak?" said Mr. Linden, smiling. "I am like Ali +Baba before the storehouse of hid treasure. Is this the 'Sesame' you +are waiting for?" he added, raising her face and trying two or three +persuasive kisses. + +"There was nothing in the storehouse," said Faith laughingly. "No words +I mean."--"I am willing to take thoughts." + +"How?"--"Which way you like!" + +"Then you will have to wait for them, Endy." + +"Mignonette, I am of an impatient disposition." + +"Yes I know it." + +"Is it to be your first wifely undertaking to cure me?" he said, +laughing.--"It takes time to put thoughts into action," said Faith, +blushing.--"Not all thoughts, Mignonette." + +She coloured beautifully; but anything more pure and sweet than those +first wifely kisses of Faith could not be told. Did he know, had he +felt, all the love and allegiance they had so silently and timidly +spoken? She had reason to think so. + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + + + +In a low whitewashed room, very clean though little and plain, where +the breeze blew in fresh from the sea, Faith found herself established +Friday afternoon. Mr. Linden had promised to show her the surf, and so +had brought her down to a little village, long ago known to him, on the +New England shore; where the people lived by farming and fishing, and +no hotel attracted or held an influx of city life. It was rather late +in the day, for the journey had been in part off the usual route of +railway and steam, and therefore had been longer if not wearier. But +when Faith had got rid of the dust, Mr. Linden came to her door to say +that it would be half an hour to supper, and ask if she was too tired +to walk down to the beach. + +The shore was but a few hundred yards from the little farmhouse; green +grass, with interrupting rocks, extending all the way. Faith hardly +knew what she was corning to till she reached the brink. There the +precipitous rocks rose sheer a hundred feet from the bottom, and at the +bottom, down below her, a narrow strip of beach was bordered with the +billowy crest and foam of the sea. Nothing but the dark ocean and the +illimitable ocean line beyond; there was not even a sail in sight this +evening; in full uninterrupted power and course, from the broad east, +the swells of the sea rolled in and broke--broke, with their graceful, +grand monotony. + +The beach was narrow at height of tide; now the tide was out. +Fishermen's boats were drawn up near to the rocks, and steep narrow +pathways along and down the face of them allowed the fishermen to go +from the top to the bottom. + +"Can't we get down there?" said Faith, when she had stood a minute +looking silently. Her face showed an eager readiness for action. + +"Can you fly, little bird?"--"Yes--as well as the fishermen can!" + +"If you cannot I can carry you," said Mr. Linden.--And doubtless he +would have found some way to make his words good had there been need; +as it was, he only guarded her down the steep rocky way, going before +her and holding her hand in a grasp she would have been puzzled to get +away from. But Faith was light and free of foot, and gave him no +trouble. Once at the bottom, she went straight towards those in-coming +big waves, and in front of them stood still. The sea-breeze blew in her +face; the roar of the breakers made music in her ears. Faith folded one +hand upon the other, and stood motionless. Now and then the wind caught +the spray from some beaten rock and flung it in her face, and wave +after wave rose up and donned its white crest; the upstanding green +water touched with sunlight and shadow, and changing tints of amber and +olive, down which the white foam came curling and rushing--sweeping in +knots of seaweed, and leaving all the pebbles with wet faces. Mr. +Linden let her look without the interruption of a word; but he +presently put his arm round her, and drew her a little into shelter +from the strong breeze. It was a while before she moved from her steady +gaze at the water; then she looked up, the joy of her face breaking +into a smile. + +"Endecott, will you show me anything more grand than this?" + +"You shall tell me when you have seen the uprising mists of Niagara," +he answered, smiling, "or the ravines between snowcaps 'five thousand +summers old.'" + +Her eye went back to the sea. "It brings before me, somehow," she said +slowly, "all time, and all eternity! I have been thinking here of +myself as I was a little child, and as I shall be, and as I am," she +added, with her inveterate exactness, and blushing. "I seem to see only +the great scale of everything." + +"Tell me a little more clearly what you see," said Mr. Linden. + +"It isn't worth telling. I see everything here as belonging to God. The +world seems his great work-place, and life his time for doing the work, +and I--and you," she said, with a flash of light coming across her +face, "his work-people. And those great breaking waves, somehow, seem +to me like the resistless, sure, beautiful, doings of his providence." +She spoke very quietly, because she was bidden, evidently. + +"Do you know how many other things they are like?--or rather how many +are likened to them in the Bible?"--"No! I don't know the Bible as you +do." + +"They seem to be a never-failing image--an illustration suiting very +different things. 'The wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot +rest,' and then, 'O that thou hadst hearkened to me I then had thy +peace been as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea.'" + +"There is the endless struggle of human will and purpose against the +divine--'The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lifted up +their voice; the floods lift up their waves. The Lord on high is +mightier than the noise of many waters, yea, than the mighty waves of +the sea.' 'Fear ye not me? saith the Lord: will ye not tremble at my +presence, which have placed the sand for the bound of the sea by a +perpetual decree, that it cannot pass it: and though the waves thereof +toss themselves, yet can they not prevail: though they roar, yet can +they not pass over it?' And so in another place the image is reversed, +and God says, 'Behold I am against thee, O Tyrus, and will cause many +nations to come up against thee, as the sea causeth his waves to come +up.' Could anything be more forcible?" + +A look was Faith's answer; it spoke the kindled thoughts at work. + +"Then you know," Mr. Linden went on, "how often the troubles of God's +children are compared to the ocean; as David says, 'All thy waves are +gone over me.' But then the Lord answers to that, 'When thou passest +through the waters I will be with thee, and through the floods, they +shall not overwhelm thee;' and David himself in another place declares +it to be true--'O Lord God of hosts, who is a strong Lord like unto +thee? or to thy faithfulness round about thee? Thou rulest the raging +of the sea: when the waves thereof arise, thou stillest them.'--I +suppose," he added, thoughtfully, taking both her hands in his, "this +is one sense in which by-and-by 'there shall be no more sea'--except +that 'sea of glass, upon which they stand who have gotten the victory!'" + +Another look, a grave, full look, came to him from Faith; and grave and +soft her eye went back to the sea. The sunbeams were all off it; it was +dark and foamy. Speaking rather low, half to her half to himself, Mr. +Linden went on,--"'And they overcame by the blood of the Lamb, and by +the word of their testimony: and they loved not their lives unto the +death.'" + +Her look did not move. Mr. Linden's went with it for a minute or two, +but then it came back to her differently. + +"My darling, I am afraid to have you stay here any longer." + +"We can come again!" said Faith gleefully, as she turned away. "I want +to look at them a great deal." + +"We will come again and try how far a 'ladder' can reach from this low +sand." + +She looked back for another glance as she began to mount the rocky way. +The mounting was an easy matter, for Mr. Linden came close and took +hold of her in such fashion that she was more than half carried up. + +"Do you feel as if you had wings now?" he asked her, after a somewhat +quick "flight" up half the way. + +"Folded ones," said Faith, laughing and breathless. "I don't know what +sort yours can be! I can go up by myself, Endecott." + +"With folded wings, as you remark, Mrs. Linden. Do you remember that +infallible way of recognizing 'earth's angels,' when they are not +pluming themselves?"--"They never do plume themselves," said Faith, +stopping to look at him. + +"Not when they are carried!" + +Faith's laugh rolled down the rocks; and then as they reached the top +she grew timid and quiet, a mood which came over her whenever she +remembered her new position and name in the world. + +There is no room to tell all the seaside doings of those days; the surf +bathing, and fishing beyond the surf. A week passed there, or rather +more; then, Mr. Linden having business in New York, the "wooden horse" +went that way. We cannot follow all its travels. But we must stay with +it a day in the city. + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + + + +Everybody who has travelled on the great route from Pattaquasset to New +York, knows that the scenery is not striking. Pleasant it is, and +fresh, in fresh seasons of the year; cornfields and hayfields and +sparkling little rivers always make up a fair prospect: but, until the +towers of Quilipeak rise upon the sight, with their leafy setting of +green, there is nothing to draw much notice. And less, afterwards. The +train flies on, past numberless stopping-posts, over bridges, through +towns; regaling its passengers with hay, salt water, bony fish, and (in +the season) dust; until the matchless flats, marshes, pools, sights, +and smells crowd thick about Haarlem river, and lure the traveller on +through the sweet suburbs of New York. Hither, business demanded that +the "wooden horse" should come for a day or two; here they were to be +received by one of the many old friends who were claiming, all over the +country, a visit from Mr. Linden and his bride. Through the dark tunnel +the train puffed on, the passengers winking and breathing beneath the +air-holes, dark and smothered where air-holes were not; then the cars +ran out into the sunlight, and, in a minute more, two of the passengers +were transferred to the easy rolling coach which was in waiting for +them, and drove away. Past warm brick fronts and pavements; past radish +boys and raspberry girls; past oranges, pineapples, vegetables, in +every degree of freshness except fresh. Of all which, even the +vegetables, Faith's eyes took most curious and intent notice--for one +minute; then the Avenue and fruit stalls were left behind; the carriage +had turned a corner, and, in another minute or two, drew up before an +imposing front in Madison Square. And there, at the very steps, was a +little raspberry girl. How Faith looked at her! + +"Raspberries to-day, ma'am?" said the child, encouraged by the look, or +the sweet face.--"No, dear, I don't want any." + +Faith went gravely up the steps. It was her first introduction to New +York. But Mr. Linden's face wore a smile. There was no time to remark +on it, for the door opened and a second introduction awaited her. An +introduction to another part of the world. A magnificent house, every +square yard of which, perhaps, taken with its furniture and adornments, +had cost as much as the whole of Faith's old home. A palace of luxury, +where no want of any kind, material, could be known or fancied. In this +house they were welcomed with a great welcome by a stately lady, Mr. +Linden's old friend and his mother's; and by her family of sons and +daughters, who were in another style, and whose vivacious kindness +seemed disposed to take up Faith bodily and carry her off. It was a +novel scene for Faith, and she was amused. Amused too with the +overpowering curiosity which took the guise, or the veil, of so much +kindness, and beset her, because--Mr. Linden had married her. Yet Faith +did not see the hundredth part of their curiosity. Mr. Linden, whose +eyes were more open, was proportionably amused, both with that and with +Faith's simplicity, which half gratified and at least half baffled it. +The young ladies at last took Faith up to her room; and, after +lavishing all sorts of attentions upon her, and making various vain +efforts to understand her, gave her the information that a good deal of +company was expected to dinner, and left her, baffled and attracted +almost in an equal degree. + +They did not seem to have as puzzling an effect on Faith; for when Mr. +Linden came out of his own dressing-room, he found her ready, and +looking as fresh and cool as if she had just come up from the sands at +Bankhead. She was dressed in a light muslin, but no more elaborately +than she used to be at Pattaquasset; only that this time her ruffles +were laces. She was a little more dainty for the dinner-party. Mr. +Linden came with a knot of glowing geraniums--"Jewess," and +"Perfection," and "Queen of the Fairies;" which, bound together as they +were with white ribband, he first laid against her dress to try the +effect (well deserving his smile of comment) then put in her hand to +make fast. They set off all the quiet elegance of her figure after +their own style, which was not quiet. + +"Now, Mignonette," he said, "I suppose you know that I am to have the +pleasure of introducing my wife to sundry people?"--"I heard they were +coming," said Faith. + +"If you will only stand by and look on, it will amuse you very much." + +"It will amuse me anyway," said Faith, "if,"--and what a rose colour +came up into her face--"if, Endy, you are satisfied." + +Mr. Linden folded his arms and looked at her. "If you say anything +against my wife, Mrs. Linden, her husband will not like it--neither +will yours." + +"That is all I care about, not pleasing those two gentlemen," said +Faith, laughing. + +"Is that all? I shall report your mind at rest. Come, it is time this +little exotic should appear." Faith thought as she went with him, that +she was anything but an _exotic;_ she did not speak her thoughts. + +There was a large dinner company gathered and gathering; and the +"pleasure" Mr. Linden had spoken of--introducing his wife--was one +enjoyed, by him or somebody, a great many times in the course of the +evening. This was something very unlike Pattaquasset or anything to be +found there; only in Judge Harrison's house little glimpses of this +sort of society might be had; and these people seemed to Faith rather +in the sphere of Dr. Harrison than of his father and sister. People who +had rubbed off every particle of native simplicity that ever belonged +to them, and who, if they were simple at all--as some of them were--had +a different kind of simplicity, made after a most exquisite and refined +worldly fashion. How it was made or worn, Faith could not tell; she had +an instinctive feeling of the difference. If she had set on foot a +comparison, she would soon have come to the conclusion that "Mr. +Linden's wife" was of another pattern altogether. But Faith never +thought of doing that. Her words were so true that she had spoken, she +cared so singly to satisfy one person there, and had such an humble +confidence of doing it, that other people gave her little concern. She +had little need, for no word or glance fell upon Faith that did not +show the eye or the speaker won or attracted. The words and glances +were very many, but Faith never found out or suspected that it was to +see _her_ all this party of grand people had been gathered together. +She thought they were curious about "Mr. Linden's wife;" and though +their curiosity made her shy, and her sense of responsibility gave an +exquisite tenderness to her manner, both effects only set a grace upon +her usual free simplicity. That was not disturbed, though a good deal +of the time Faith was far from Mr. Linden's kelp or protection. A +stranger took her in to dinner, and among strangers she made her way +most of the evening. But though she was shy, Faith was afraid never but +of one person, nor much of him. + +For him--among old acquaintances, beset with all manner of inquiries +and congratulations--he yet heard her voice whenever it was possible, +and knew by sight as well as hearing all the admiration she called +forth. He might have said as at Kildeer river, that he found "a great +deal of Mignonette." What he _did_ tell her, when the evening was over, +was that people were at a loss how to name the new exotic. + +"How to name _me_, Endecott?"--"As an exotic." + +"I don't wonder!" said Faith with her merry little laugh. "Don't +philosophers sometimes get puzzled in that way, Endecott?"--"Scientific +philosophers content themselves with the hardest names they can find, +but in this case such will not suit. Though Dr. Campan may write you in +his books as 'Lindenethia Pattaquassetensis--exotic, very rare. The +flower is a double star--colour wonderful.'" + +Faith stopped to laugh. + +"What a blunder he will make if he does!" she said. "It will show, as +Mr. Simlins says--that he don't understand common vegetables." + +"Well translated, Mignonette. How will it show that, if you +please?"--"He has mistaken one for a trumpet creeper." + +"A scarlet runner, I suppose." + +"Was I?" said Faith seriously. + +"According to you. I am in Dr. Campan's predicament." + +"I should think _you_ needn't be," said Faith, simply. "Because you +know, Endy I never knew even how to climb till you showed me." + +Mr. Linden faced round upon her, the quick flashing eyes answering even +more than his. "Faith! what do you mean?" But his lips played then in a +rare little smile, as he said, very quietly, in his former position, +"Imagine Mignonette, with its full sweetness--and more than its full +colour--suddenly transplanted to the region where Monkeys and Geraniums +grow--I like to think of the effect." + +"I can't think of any effect at all," said Faith. "_I_ should look at +the Monkeys and Geraniums!" + +"Of course--being Mignonette. And clearly that you are; but then how +can Mignonette so twine itself round things?" + +Faith thought it did not, and also thought of Pet's charge about +"charming;" but she left both points. + +"Most climbers," said Mr. Linden, with a glance at her, "have but one +way of laying hold; but this exotic has all. There are the tendrils +when it wants support, and the close twining that makes of two lives +one, and the clasp of a hundred little stems that give a leaf or a +flower wherever they touch." + +"Endecott!" said Faith, with a look of astonished remonstrance and +amusement in one.--"What?" + +But the smile and blush with which Faith turned away bespoke her not +very much displeased; and she knew better by experience than to do +battle with Mr. Linden's words. She let him have it his own way. + +The next day business claimed him. Faith was given up to the kindness +and curiosity of her new friends. They made good use of their +opportunity, and their opportunity was a good one; for it was not till +late in the day, a little while before the late dinner hour, that Mr. +Linden came home. He found Faith in her room; a superbly appointed +chamber, as large as any three of those she had been accustomed to. She +was standing at the window, thoughtfully looking out; but turned +joyfully to meet Mr. Linden. Apparently he was glad too. + +"My dear little Mignonette! I feel as if I had not seen you for a week." + +"It has been a long day," said Faith; who looked rather, it may be +remarked, as if the day had freshly begun. + +"Mignonette, you are perfectly lovely! Do you think you will condescend +to wear these flowers?" said Mr. Linden, drawing her to a seat by the +table, and with one arm still round her beginning to arrange the +flowers he had thrown down there as he came in. + +Faith watched him, and then looked up. + +"Endecott you shouldn't talk to me so. You wouldn't like me to believe +you." + +Mr. Linden finished setting two or three ruby carnations in the green +and purple of heliotrope and sweet-scented verbena; then laid the bunch +lightly upon her lips and gravely inquired if they were sweet. + +"Yes," Faith said, laughing behind them. "You are not hungry?" + +"Why? and what of it?"--"You don't seem to remember it is near +dinner-time." + +"Dinner time is a myth. My dear, I am sorry I give you so much +uneasiness. I wish you could feel as composed about me as I do about +you. What have I done with that white ribband!--don't stir--it is in +some pocket or other." And the right one being found, Mr. Linden +unwrapped the piece of ribband and cut off what he wanted, remarking +that he could not get used to giving her anything but blue. + +"Well, why do you then?" said Faith.--"I feel in a subdued state of +mind, owing to reproofs," said Mr. Linden, with the white satin curling +round his fingers. "I may not tell anybody what I think of my wife!" + +Faith looked amused, and yet a soft glance left the charge and the +"reproof" standing. + +"I feel so composed about you," Mr. Linden went on, drawing his white +bows--Faith did think the eyes flashed under the shading lashes--"so +sure that you will never over-estimate me, much less speak of it. But +then you know, Mignonette, I never did profess to follow Reason." + +He was amused to see the little stir his words called up in Faith. He +could see it in the changing colour and rest less eye, and in one look +of great beauty which Faith favoured him with. Apparently the shy +principle prevailed, or Faith's wit got the better of her simplicity; +for she rose up gravely and laying her hand on the bunch of flowers +asked if she should put them on. + +"Unless you prefer my services." + +She sat down again immediately, with a face that very plainly preferred +them. Half smiling, with fingers that were in no haste about their +work, Mr. Linden adjusted the carnations; glancing from them to her, +trying them in different positions, playing over his dainty task as if +he liked it. The flowers in place, his full smiling look met hers, and +she was carried off to the glass "to see his wife." Hardly seen, after +all, but by himself. + +"She looks ready for dinner," said Faith. + +"Your eyes are only to look at," said Mr. Linden with a laughing +endorsement of _his_ thoughts, and putting her back in the dormeuse. +"Suppose you sit there, and tell me what efforts they have made in the +way of seeing, to-day." + +"Efforts to see all before them, which was more than they could," said +Faith. + +"What did they see? not me, nor I them, that I know." + +"That was another sort of effort they made," said Faith +smiling--"efforts to see what was _not_ before them. I watched, +whenever I thought there was a chance, but I couldn't see anything that +looked like you. We must have gone half over the city, Endecott; Mrs. +Pulteney took me all the morning, and her daughters and Mr. Pulteney +all the afternoon." + +"Know, O little Mignonette," said Mr. Linden, "that in New York it is +'morning' till those people who dine at six have had their dinner. + + "Like the swell of some sweet tune + Morning rises into noon,-- + +was written of country hours." + +"I guess that is true of most of the other good things that ever were +written," said Faith. + +Mr. Linden looked amused. "What do you think of this?-- + + And when the hours of rest + Come, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine, + Hushing its billowy breast-- + The quiet of that moment too is thine; + It breathes of Him who keeps + The vast and helpless city while it sleeps." + + +"I never saw the city when it was asleep," said Faith, smiling. "It +didn't look to-day as if it could sleep. But, Endecott, I am sure all +the pretty part of those words comes from where we have been." + +"The images, yes. But connect any spot of earth with heaven, by any +tie, and it must have a certain sort of grandeur. You have been working +in brick and mortar to-day, Mignonette, to-morrow I must give you a +bird's-eye view." + +Faith was silent a minute; and then said, "It don't look a happy place +to me, Endecott." + +"No, it is too human. You want an elm tree or a patch of dandelions +between every two houses." + +"That wouldn't do," said Faith, "unless the people could be less +ragged, and dirty, and uneasy; and their houses too. There's nothing +like it in Pattaquasset." + +"I have great confidence in the comforting and civilizing power of elm +trees and green grass," said Mr. Linden. "But Carlyle says 'Man is not +what you can call a happy animal, his appetite for sweet victual is so +enormous;' and perhaps New York suffers as much from the fact that +everybody wants _more_, as that some have too little and others too +much." + +"Do _these_ people want more?" said Faith softly. + +"Without doubt! So does everybody in New York but me." + +"But why must people do that in New York, when they don't do it in +Pattaquasset?" said Faith, who was very like mignonette at the moment. + +"The appetite grows with indulgence, or the possibility of it. Besides, +little bird, in Pattaquasset you take all this breeze of humanity +winnowed through elm branches. There, you know, 'My soul into the +boughs does glide.'" + +"No," said Faith; "it is not that. When my soul glides nowhere, and +there are no branches, either; in the Roscoms' house, Endecott--and +poor Mrs. Dow's, and Sally Lowndes',--people don't look as they look +here. I don't mean _here_, in Madison Square--though yes I do, too; +there was that raspberry girl; and others, worse, I have seen even +here. But I have been in other places--Mr. Pulteney and his sisters +took me all the way to the great stone church, Endecott." + +"Well, Sunbeam, it has been a bright day for every raspberry girl that +has come in your way. What else did you see there."--"I saw the church." + +"Not the invisible" said Mr. Linden, smiling, "remember that." + +"Invisible! no," said Faith. "There was a great deal of this visible." + +"What thoughts did it put in your head?"--"It was very--wonderfully +beautiful," said Faith, thoughtfully. + +"What else?"--"I cannot tell. You would laugh at me if I could. +Endecott, it didn't seem so much like a church to me as the little +white church at home." + +"I agree with you there--the less show of the instrument the sweeter +the music, to me. But the street in front of the church, so specially +filled with beggars and cripples, I never go by there, Faith, without a +feeling of joy; remembering the blind man who sat at the Beautiful gate +of the temple; knowing well that there is as 'safe, expeditious, and +easy a way' to heaven from that dusty side-walk, as from any other spot +of earth. The triumph of grace!--how glorious it is! _I_ cannot speak +to all of them together, nor even one by one, but grace is free! 'Not +by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of Hosts.' +Faith, I have been thinking of that all day!" + +She could see it in his face--in the flush on the cheek and the flash +in the eye as he came and stood before her. She could see what had been +all day before his eyes and mind; and how pain and sympathy and longing +desire had laid hold of the promise and rested there--"Ask and ye shall +receive." Unconsciously Faith folded her hands, and the least touch of +a smile in the corners of her mouth was in no wise contradictory of her +eyes' sweet gravity. + +"I saw them too," she said, in a low tone. "Endecott, I would rather +speak to them out there, under the open sky, if it wasn't a crowd--than +in the church?" + +"I should forget where I was, after I began to speak," said Mr. Linden; +"though I do love 'that dome--most catholic and solemn,' better than +all others." + +"Mr. Pulteney asked me how I liked the church," said Faith. + +"He did not understand your answer," said Mr. Linden smiling, "I know +that beforehand. What was it?"--"I think he didn't like it," said +Faith. "I told him it seemed to me a great temple that men had built +for their own glory and pleasure, not for the glory and pleasure of +God." + +"Since when, you have been to Mr. Tom Pulteney like a fable in ancient +Greek to one who has learned the modern language at school and +forgotten it." + +"He did not understand me," said Faith, laughing and blushing a little. +"And I was worse off; for I asked him several questions he could not +answer me. I wanted to go to the top, but he was certain I would be too +tired if I did. But I heard the chime, Endecott! that was beautiful. +Beautiful! I am very glad I was there." + +"I'll take you to the top" said Mr. Linden, "it will not tire me. +Faith, I have brought you another wedding present--talking of 'ancient' +things." + +"What is that, Endecott?" she said, with a bright amused face.--"Only a +fern leaf. One that waved a few thousand years before the deluge, and +was safely bedded in stone when the children of Israel passed through +the Red Sea. I went to see an old antiquarian friend this morning, and +out of his precious things he chose one for mine." And Mr. Linden laid +in her hand the little rough stone; rough on one side, but on the other +where the hammer had split it through, the brown face was smooth, and +the black leaf lay marked out in all its delicate tracery. + +"Endecott, what is this?" Faith exclaimed, in her low tones of +delight.--"A fossil leaf." + +"Of a fern? How beautiful! Where did it come from?" She had risen in +her delight, and stood by Mr. Linden at the dressing-table.--"This one +from Bohemia. Do you see the perfection of every leafet?" + +"How wonderful! how beautiful!" Faith repeated, studying the fossil. +"It brings up those words, Endecott:--'A thousand years in thy sight +are but as yesterday when it is past; or as a watch in the night.'" + +"Yes, and these--'The counsel of the Lord, that shall stand.' Compare +this fern leaf with the mighty palaces of Babylon and Nineveh. Through +untold ages this has kept its wavy fragile outline, _they_ are marked +only by 'the line of confusion and the stones of emptiness.'" + +Faith looked up, with such an eye of intelligence and interest as again +would have puzzled Mr. Pulteney. + +"Did your old antiquary send this to me, Endecott?" she said looking +down at it again.--"To you, darling." + +"I have seen nothing so good to-day, Endy. I am very glad of it." + +"Do you remember, Sunbeam, the time when I told you I liked stones? and +you looked at me. I remember the look now!" So did Faith, by the +conscious light and colour that came into her face, different from +those of three minutes ago, and the grateful recognition her eyes gave +to Mr. Linden. + +"I don't know much more now," she said, in very lowliness, "about +stones, but you can teach me, Endecott." + +"Yes, I will leave no stone unturned for your amusement," he said, +laughing. "Faith, if I were not so much afraid of you I should tell you +what you are like. What else have you seen?" + +"Tell me what I am like, Endecott." + +"What sort of consistency is that--to coax me when I don't tell you, +and scold me when I do?" + +"It's curiosity, I suppose," said Faith. "But it's no matter. I saw all +that strange place, Broadway, Endecott; we drove through the whole +length of it." + +"Well?" said Mr. Linden, throwing himself down in the arm-chair and +looking gravely up at her. But then the lips parted, not only to smile +but to sing a wild Scotch tune. + + "O wat ye wha that lo'es me, + And has my heart in keeping? + O sweet is she that lo'es me, + As dews o' summer weeping, + In tears the rosebuds steeping; + O that's the lassie o' my heart, + My lassie ever dearer; + O that's the queen o' womankind, + And ne'er a ane to peer her!" + + "If thou hast heard her talking, + And thy attention's plighted, + That ilka body talking + But her by thee is slighted, + And thou art all delighted. + O that's the lassie o' my heart, + My lassie ever dearer; + O that's the queen o' womankind, + And ne'er a ane to peer her!" + + +"Did you see anybody like that in Broadway, Faith?" + +Blushing how she blushed! but she would not say a word nor stir, to +interrupt the singing; so she stood there, casting a shy look at him +now and then till he had stopped, and then coming round behind him, she +laid her head down upon his shoulder. Mr. Linden laughed, caressing the +pretty head in various ways. + +"My dear little bird!" he said. Then presently--"Mignonette, _I_ have +been looking at fur cloaks." + +"Don't do such a thing again, Endy." + +"I shouldn't, if I could have quite suited myself to-day." + +"I don't want it. I can bear the cold as well as you." + +"Let it make up for something which you do want and haven't got, then; +you must bear the cold Polar fashion. But at present, there is the +dinner-bell." + +They went down; but with the fossil and the fur, Faith was almost taken +out of New York; and astonished Mr. Pulteney once or twice more in the +course of the evening, to Mr. Linden's amusement. + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + + + +The Hudson river railway, on a summer Saturday afternoon. Does +everybody know it? If not, let me tell the people who have not tried +it, or those more unfortunate ones who are tried by it, and driven into +the depths of newspapers and brown literature by the steam pressure of +mountains, clouds, and river, that it is glorious. Not on a dusty +afternoon, but when there has been or is a shower. Not the locomotive, +or the tender, or the cars, though the long chain has a sort of +grandeur, as its links wind into the bays and round the promontories, +express. But get a river-side seat, and keep your patience up the +lumbered length of Tenth Avenue, and restrain your impatience as the +train goes at half-stroke along that first bit of road where people are +fond of getting on the track; watch the other shore, meantime, or the +instructive market gardens on this; then feel the quickened speed, as +the engine gets her "head;" then use your eyes. Open your windows +boldly; people don't get cold from our North river air; never mind the +sun; hold up a veil or a fan; only look. See how the shore rises into +the Palisades, up which the March of Improvement finds such uncertain +footing: how the rising points of hill are rounded with shadow and +sunlight, and green from river to crown. See how the clouds roll softly +up on the further side, giving showers here and there--how the +white-winged vessels sail and careen and float. Look up the river from +Peekskill, and see how the hills lock in and part. Think of the train +of circumstances that rushed down Arnold's point that long ago morning, +where a so different train now passes. Mark the rounding outlines of +the green Highlands, and as you near Garrisons' let your eye follow the +sunbeam that darts down the little mill creek just opposite the tunnel. +Then on through those beloved hills, till they fall off right and left, +and you are out upon Newburgh bay in the full glory of the sunset. +After this (if you are tired looking) you may talk for a while, till +the blue heads of the Catskill catch your eye and hold it. + +The blue range was a dim outline--hardly that--when Faith reached her +journey's end that night. She could hear the dash of the river, and see +the brilliant stars, but all details waited for morning; and the +morning was Sunday. Balmy, cloudless, the very air put Faith almost in +Elysium; and between dreamy enjoyment, and a timid sense of her own new +name and position, she would have liked for herself an oriole's nest on +one of the high branches. Failing that, she seemed--as her hostess and +again an old friend of Mr. Linden's told him--"like a very rosebud; as +sweet, and as much shut up to herself." + +Truth to tell, she kept something of the same manner and seeming next +day. The house was very full, and of a very gay set of people; of whom +Faith's friend, Mr. Motley, was one. Faith met their advances +pleasantly, but she was daintily shy. And besides, the scene and the +time were full of temptations to dream over the out-of-door beauty. The +people amused her, but often she would rather have lost them in the +hills or the sunset; and was for various reasons willing that others +should talk while she looked. + +So passed the first two days, and the third brought an excursion, which +kept the whole party out till lunch-time. But towards the end of the +day Mr. Linden was witness to a little drama which let him know +something more of Faith than he had just seen before. + +It was near the time of dressing for dinner. Mr. Linden was already +dressed and had come to the library, where, in a deep recess on one +side of the window, he was busy with a piece of study. The window was +very large, and opened upon a green terrace; and on the terrace, in a +garden chair, just outside the open window, sat Faith; quietly and +intensely, he knew, enjoying the broad river and the mountain range +that lay blue in the sunlight a few miles beyond; all in the soft still +air of the summer day. She distracted Mr. Linden's thoughts from his +study. He could see her perfectly, though he was quite out of her view. +She was in one of the dainty little morning dresses he had sent her +from the place of pretty things; nothing could be more simple, and it +suited her; and she looked about as soft and still as the day. +Meanwhile some gentlemen had entered the library, and drew near the +window. Faith was just out of their range, and Mr. Linden was +completely hid in his recess, or doubtless their remarks would have had +a different bearing The remarks turned upon Faith, who was here as well +as in New York an object of curiosity to those who had known Mr. +Linden; and one of the speakers expressed himself as surprised that +"Linden" should have married her. + +"Wouldn't have thought it,--would you?" said Mr. Motley. "To be sure; +he's able to do all the talking." + +"She does very well for the outside," said another. "Might satisfy +anybody. Uncommon eyes." + +"Eyes!" said Mr. Motley. "Yes, she has eyes!--and a mouth. I suppose +Linden gets some good of it--if nobody else does. And after all, to +find a woman that is all eyes and no tongue, is, as you remark, +uncommon." + +"She's not quite stylish enough for him," said a third. "I thought +Linden would have married a brilliant woman." + +"He'll be a brilliant man, if you tell him that," said Mr. Motley. +"Corruscations, and so forth. I never thought I should see him +bewitched--even by a rose leaf monopoly." + +The conversation was interrupted. It had not been one which Mr. Linden +could very well break; all he could do was to watch Faith. He could see +her slightly-bent head and still face, and the colour which grew very +bright upon the cheek nearest him. She was motionless till the last +words were broken off; then, with a shy movement of one hand to her +cheek, covering it, she sprang away, as lightly as any bird she was +ever named after. + +Mr. Linden was detained in the library, where, as the dinner-hour drew +near, other members of the family began to gather. A group of these +were round the table, discussing an engraving; when Mr. Linden saw +Faith come in. He was no longer in the dangerous recess; but Faith did +not come near him; she joined the party at the table. Mr. Linden +watched her. Faith's dressing was always a quiet affair; to-day somehow +the effect was very lovely. She wore a soft muslin which flowed about +her in full draperies; with a breast-knot of roses on its white folds. +Faith rarely put on flowers that Mr. Linden had not given her. To-day +was an exception; and her white robe with no setting off but those +roses and her rich hair, was faultless. Not merely that; the effect was +too striking to be absolutely quiet; all eyes were drawn to her. + +The gentlemen whom she had heard speak were among the party; and no +eyes were more approving. Mr. Linden watched, as he might, without +being seen to watch. Faith joined not only the party, but the +conversation; taking her place in it frankly; showing no unwillingness +to give opinions or to discuss them, and no desire to avoid any subject +that came up. She was taking a new stand among these strangers. Mr. +Linden saw it, and he could guess the secret reason; no one else could +guess that there was anything to give a reason for, so coolly, so +naturally, it was done. But the stand was taken. Faith had not stepped +in the least out of her own bounds; she had abated not a whit of her +extreme modesty. She was never more herself, only it was as if she had +laid down a self-indulgent shyness which she had permitted herself +before, and allowed Mr. Linden's friends to become acquainted with Mr. +Linden's wife. But with herself! Her manner to-day was exceedingly like +her dress; the plainest simplicity, the purest quality, and the roses +blushing over all. It fascinated the gentlemen, every one of them. They +found that the little demure piece of gravity could talk; and talk with +a truth and freshness of thought too, which was like the rest of her, +uncommon and interesting, soft and free, at once. Faith went off to +dinner on the arm of one of her maligners, and was very busy with +company all the evening after, having little to do with Mr. Linden. + +She had escaped to her room earlier than he, however; and when he came +in she was sitting thoughtfully before the open window. She rose up +directly, and came to him, with the usual smile, and with a little +hidden triumph dancing in her eyes, and an odd wistful look besides of +affection and humility. She only came close to him for a caress, +without speaking. Mr. Linden took her face in both hands and looked at +it--a beautiful smile mingling with the somewhat moved look of his own. + +"What a child you are!" + +The colour rushed all over Faith's cheeks. + +"Why?--" she whispered. The answer to which, cheeks and brow, and lips, +might spell out as best they could. + +"Do you know why I did not come with your flowers, +Mignonette?"--"Before dinner?--no. I got some for myself." + +"I was on my way for them, and was entrapped and held fast. My little +Mignonette! I never thought to have you put your hand to your cheek in +that way again!" + +"Again, Endecott! Who told you?" said Faith, as usual jumping to +conclusions. + +"Who told me what, my beauty?" + +Faith's eye fell in doubt, then looked up searchingly. + +"I believe you know everything; but you don't look displeased. How +_did_ you know, Endecott?"--"I saw and heard. And have seen and heard +since," he added, smiling. + +A question or two found out exactly how it had been; and then Faith put +the inquiry, simple to quaintness, "Did I do better to-day?"--"If you +are so anxious for me--" he said, stroking back her hair. "They did not +deserve to have one of my wife's words, but her words were admirable." + +It was worth while to see Faith's cheeks. + +"Will you trust me to ride with Mr. Middleton to-morrow?" she asked +presently, smiling. + +"No. Yes--I will trust you but not him." + +"Does that mean that you will trust me to go?"--"Not with him." + +"But what shall I do?" said Faith, flushing after a different +fashion--half laughing too--"I told him I would go, or that I thought I +would go." + +"Tell him that you think you will not." + +Faith looked a little troubled: she foresaw a charge of questions she +did not like to meet. + +"Are you afraid of the horse, Endy?" she said, after a pause, a little +timidly. "No, darling." + +Faith was pretty just now, as she stood with her eyes cast down: like a +generous tempered horse first feeling the bit; you can see that the +creature will be as docile as possible, yet he is a little shy of your +curb. Anything like control was absolutely new to her; and though her +face was never more sweet, there was with that a touch of embarrassment +which made an inexpressibly pretty mixture. Mr. Linden might well be +amused and touched, and charmed too, all in one. + +"Mr. Motley asked me to ride too," she said after a minute, blushing a +little deeper, and speaking as if it were a supplement to her former +words. "He wanted to show me the Belle Spring. I had better give them +both the same answer." + +"Has nobody else preferred his request? they are just the two people +with whom I do not want you to ride," said Mr. Linden, smiling. "I +shall have to ask you myself, or claim you. Mrs. Linden, may I have the +honour?"--Faith gave him a very bright answer of a smile, but with a +little secret wish in her heart that the other people had not asked her. + +Her denial, however, was perfectly well taken by Mr. Motley; not indeed +without a little bantering talk and raillery upon the excessive care +Mr. Linden bestowed on her. But Mr. Middleton, she saw, was not pleased +that she disappointed him. Within two or three days Faith had become +unmistakeably the centre of attraction to all the gentlemen of the +neighbourhood. To walk with her, to talk to her, to attend upon her, +were not a coveted honour merely, but a coveted pleasure. It was found +wonderfully refreshing to talk to Faith: her eyes were something +pleasant to look at, for more than George Alcott; and the truth of her +enjoyment and gratitude made it a captivating thing to be the means of +exciting them. + +Mr. Middleton was one of those men who think very much indeed of the +value of their approbation, and never bestow it but where they are sure +the honour of their taste and judgment is like to be the gainer--one of +those men who in ordinary keep their admiration for themselves, and +bestow in that quarter a very large amount. Faith's refusal to ride +with him touched him very disagreeably. It was impossible to be +offended with her, but perhaps all the more he was offended with +somebody; and it happened unluckily that some reported light words of +Mr. Motley about Mr. Linden's care of his wife, and especial distrust +of the gentlemen who had asked her to ride, reached Mr. Middleton's ear +in a very exaggerated and opprobrious form. Mr. Middleton did not know +Mr. Linden, nor know much of him; his bottled-up wrath resolved that +Mr. Linden should not continue long in his reciprocal ignorance. And so +it fell out, that as this week began with showing Mr. Linden something +of Faith that he had not seen before, it did not end without giving her +a new view of him. + +It was a captivating summer morning when the cavalcade set forth from +Rye House, on a picnic to Alderney, one of the show places in the +neighbourhood. It seemed fairyland to Faith. The beautiful country over +which they travelled, in summer's luxuriance of grass and grain; the +river rolling below at a little distance, sometimes hidden only to +burst upon the view again; and towering above all, unchanged beyond the +changing lights and shades of the nearer landscape, the long mountain +range. The air was perfection; the sounds of voice and laughter and +horses' brisk feet helped the exhilaration, and the lively colours and +fashion of caps and habits and feathers made pretty work for the eye. +Faith's ears and eyes were charmed. At a cross road the party was +joined by Mr. Middleton; whose good humour, at present in a +loose-jointed state, was nowise improved at the sight of Faith. She +rode then, at any rate; and she sat well and rode fearlessly, that he +could see; and his eye keen for such things, noted too the neat +appointments of her dress, and saw that they were all right, and fitted +her, and she fitted them; and that her figure altogether was what no +man might dislike to have beside him, even a man so careful of his +appearance as Mr. Middleton. Not near Faith did he come; but having +noted all these things with gathering ire, he sheered off to another +part of the troop. + +It was a pretty day to Faith, the whole first part of it. The ride, and +the viewing the grounds they went to see. These were indeed naturally +very noble; and to Faith's eyes every new form of natural beauty, of +which her range had hitherto been so very small, was like a fresh +draught of water to thirsty lips. It was a great draught she had this +morning, and enjoyed almost to the forgetfulness of everything else. +Then came the lunch. And that was picturesque, too, certainly; on such +a bank, under such trees, with such a river and mountains in front; and +Faith enjoyed it and them so far. But it was splendid too, and noisy; +and her thoughts went at one time away very far, to Kildeer river, and +remembered a better meal taken under the trees, with better talk, and +only Bob Tuck to look at them. She stole a glance at Mr. Linden. He was +doing his part, and making somebody very comfortable indeed--Faith half +smiled to see it. + +Mr. Middleton at another part of the assembled company, had been +getting his temper up with wine and his ill humour with the various +suggestions and remarks of some careless gossipers at his side. Finding +that he winced under the mention of Mrs. Linden and the ride, they gave +him that subject with as many variations as the Katydid polka,--the +simple "She did"--(or rather "She _didn't_")--skilfully diversified and +touched up,--which brought Mr. Middleton's heavy piece of displeasure, +already primed, loaded, and at full cock, to the very point where his +temper struck fire. He left the table and drew towards Mr. Linden, who +was talking in the midst of a group of ladies and gentlemen. Middleton +knew which was he that was all. + +"You, sir!" he said, like a surly bull-dog, which term describes both +his mental and physical features, "my name's Middleton; I want you to +take back what you've said about me." + +Mr. Linden at the moment was in the full tide of German talk with one +of his old fellow students from abroad; his excellent poise and play of +conversation and manner setting off the gesticulations of the +foreigner. With a look of more surprise than anything else he brought +eyes and attention to bear upon Mr. Middleton. + +"What, sir?" he said. + +"Will you take back what you've said about me?" The dogged wrath of the +man was beyond the use of many words, to which indeed he was never +given. + +"I have not said anything, sir, which requires that." And with a bend +of the head, cool and courteous as his words, Mr. Linden dismissed the +subject; and placing himself on the grass with his friend and some +others, fell back into the German. Middleton followed fuming. + +"I've come to speak to you!" he said, beginning with an execration, +"and you must get up and answer me. Will you take back what you said?" +Stooping down, he had thrown these words into Mr. Linden's ear in a way +to leave no doubt whom they were meant for. + +"I have answered you, sir." + +"That is to tell you what I think of it!" said Middleton, dashing in +his face the remains of a glass of wine which he had brought with him +from the board on purpose. + +He was on his feet then! with what a spring! as in the fairy tale the +beautiful princess of a sudden became a sword. Just such eyes of fire +Mr. Middleton had never been privileged to see. But Faith saw the hands +drop and grasp each other, she saw the eyes fall, and the colour go and +come and go again, with a rush and swiftness that was startling to see. +Absolutely motionless, the very breath kept down, so he stood. And even +his assailant gazed, in a sort of spell-bound wonder. The twittering +birds overhead, how they carolled; how softly the leaves rustled, and +the river sent up its little waves: and the sunshine and shadow crept +on, measuring off the seconds. The pure peace and beauty of everything, +the hush of human voices, were but the setting of the deep human +struggle. The victory came. + +With a face from which at last the colour had taken its permanent +departure, Mr. Linden looked up and spoke; and something made the very +low tones ring in the air. + +"I have said nothing about you which needed apology, Mr. Middleton. You +have been misinformed, sir." And with that same bend of dismissal Mr. +Linden drew himself up and walked away, bareheaded as he was. The trees +hid him in a moment. + +Then there came a stir. + +"What a coward!" cried George Alcott, pressing forward, "to do that to +a man who you knew wouldn't knock you down!" + +The young German had started up, sputtering strange things in his +native tongue. + +"Mr. Linden is an excellent commentator," said one young lady, who took +the liberty of speech pretty freely. "How clear he makes it that 'The +discretion of a man deferreth his anger; and it is his glory to pass by +a transgression.'" + +"I really thought," said Mr. Motley, in a make-believe whisper, "when +Middleton first came up, that he had been taking a glass too much, but +now I see that he took just half a glass too little!" + +"Sir," said Colonel Rye, stepping forward, a man of most noble +character and presence both, "Mr. Linden is my guest and friend, you +must answer this to me." + +Before Mr. Middleton could make answer, Faith had come in between and +laid hold of the Colonel's hand. She was white, and quiet, but she +could not at once speak. All around stood still. + +"Sir," she said, in words that were well heard for everybody held his +breath, "Colonel Rye, this is Mr. Linden's affair." + +"I beg your pardon, my dear young lady--it is mine." + +"No, sir," said Faith he felt how eagerly her fingers grasped his, "it +is in Mr. Linden's hands. He forgives Mr. Middleton entirely." + +"I don't forgive him!" said the Colonel, shortly. + +"Sir," said Faith, "Colonel Rye, this is not what Mr. Linden would +wish. Endecott will tell you, sir, that he has passed it by. Don't undo +what he has done! No true friend of Mr. Linden will make any more of +this." + +"I am willing to answer it to anybody," said Middleton, gruffly, but as +if half ashamed of himself. + +"There is nothing to answer to any one," said Faith, quitting the +Colonel, and turning to him; her face was so white and gentle that it +smote him, and those very steady sweet eyes had a power in them just +now that broke his doggedness. "There is nothing to answer to any one, +unless Mr. Middleton," (how soft her voice was), "unless you find you +were wrong, and choose to tell Mr. Linden, which I dare say you will. +Colonel Rye, will you see, for Mr. Linden's honour, that this goes to +no harm?"--The extreme gentleness and the steady firmness of Faith +ruled them all; and at her last appeal the Colonel's only answer was to +take her in his arms and kiss her, an acknowledgment Faith would +willingly have gone without. But it was good for a promise. + +"Mr. Alcott," she said seeking him in the group, "you said we would go +down the bank--." Faith did not finish her sentence, but he saw her +wish to finish it by action. + +She went with him till they were out of sight and away from everybody; +then slipped her arm from his and begging him not to wait for her sat +down on the grass. For a while she sat very still, whether her heart +was fuller of petition or thanksgiving she hardly knew. She would have +rejoined Mr. Alcott much sooner if she had guessed he was waiting for +her--like an outpost among the trees; but all the time had not brought +back Faith's colour. After a while, other steps came swiftly over the +turf as she sat there, and before she had raised her head it was lifted +up for her. + +"My precious wife! what are you doing here?" Very low the tones were, +very grave, very tender. + +Faith sprang, and after an exploring glance into his face, knelt on the +grass beside him and threw her arms round his neck, pressing her cheek +very close as if she would take off or share the affront that had been +offered to his. That for a minute--and then changing characters--she +raised her head and pushing the hair back from his brow with her soft +hurried fingers, she covered that and his face with kisses--with a kind +of eager tenderness that could not say enough nor put enough love and +reverence into every touch. All this while she was still; she did not +shed tears at all, as some women would have done; and she said not one +word. + +Perhaps surprise made him passive: perhaps the soothing of her caresses +was too sweet and too much needed to be interrupted, even by a return. +He let her have her way, nor even raised his eyes. One arm indeed was +round her, but it left her free to do what she liked. If Faith needed +any light on what the morning's work had been, it was furnished by +those few minutes. Only at last, with a sudden motion Mr. Linden +brought her lips to his, and gave her back principal and interest. + +"You blessed child!" he said. "Are you a veritable angel already?"--"I +should have brought you a palm-branch, Endy." For almost the first time +he had ever heard it so, Faith's voice was unsteady. + +Had she not done it? Mr. Linden did not say so, as he took grave note +of her pale cheeks. Presently rising up he passed his arm round her, +and took her up the bank to the rest of the party, nor let go his hold +till she was seated between Mrs. Rye and himself. Then from the fern +leaf in his hand, he proceeded to give them both an account of ferns in +general--living and fossil, extant and extinct; with his usual happy +skill and interest, and--except that the lips never broke into a +smile--with just his usual manner. And never had the grave depth of eye +been more beautiful, more clear. Not Faith alone watched it with loving +admiration, but no one any more than she ventured word or look of +sympathy. + +When at last the various groups began to draw in towards a centre, and +ladies put on their riding hats, and grooms were buckling girths again, +Mr. Middleton with two or three others was seen advancing towards Mr. +Linden's quarter. Mrs. Rye rose hastily. + +"I am sorry to find that I made a mistake, sir," said Middleton, with a +sort of unwilling courtesy; "I was under misinformation--and I was not +aware of your profession. I beg your pardon for what has occurred." + +Mr. Linden had risen too, and with folded arms and the most unmoved +face stood watching the party as they came up. + +"It is granted," he said, offering his hand. "But permit me to say, Mr. +Middleton, that you made a third mistake, equally great if the other +two had not existed." + +Mr. Middleton's private thoughts were perhaps not clearly disentangled. +At all events he had no desire to multiply words, and turned off. + +"So, he has spoken, has he!" said Colonel Rye, coming up. "Like a bear, +I dare say. Why do you think I didn't fight him, Endecott?" + +A smile came over Mr. Linden's face then--bright and stirred. + +"I think, sir, you yielded to Mignonette's power, as I did long ago." + +"You?--Did he?" said the Colonel, turning.--"No, sir; never!" said +Faith, laughing and blushing till her cheeks were brilliant. The +Colonel smiled at her. + +"My dear," said he, "you conquered me! and I don't believe any other +man more invincible than myself. Is this your horse? No, Motley; no, +George; she is going to have an old cavalier for her ride home." + +And much to Faith's pleasure, so she had. + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + + + +October's foliage had lost its distinct red and purple and brown, and +had grown merely sunburnt; but the sky overhead still kept its +wonderful blue. Down the ravines, over their deep shadow, October +breathed softly; up the mountain road, past grey boulders and primeval +trees and wonderful beds of moss, went the stage waggon. The travellers +were going by a somewhat long and irregular route, first up one of the +great highways, then across to that spur of the mountains where they +were to live. Mrs. Derrick was to follow in a few weeks with Mr. +Stoutenburgh. + +It was late and dusky when the stage waggon transferred the travellers +to Mr. Olyphant's carriage, which was waiting for them at a certain +turn of the road. Mr. Olyphant himself was there, with extra wrappings +for Faith; and muffled in them she sat leaning in the corner of the +carriage, tired enough to make the rest pleasant, awake enough to hear +the conversation; feeling more like a bird than ever, with that +unwonted night air upon her face, and the wild smell of woods and +evergreens and brooks floating about her. + +At Mr. Olyphant's they were received with warm wood fires and excellent +supper, the welcome spending itself in many other ways. But though Mr. +Linden did take her to the door for one minute to hear a pouring +mountain torrent, she could see nothing that night. The stars overhead +were brilliant, the dark hill outline dim--the rushing of that +stream--how it sounded! Faith's whisper was gleeful. + +"Endy, I can't see much, but it feels lovely! I am so glad to be here!" + +The morning was wonderful. Such a sunlight, such an air, such +rejoicings of birds and brook and leaves. Mr. Olyphant's house stood on +one side of a woody slope, rocks and trees crowned to the very top; in +the ravine below, the brook Faith had heard. She could see it now, +foaming along, quieting itself as it came into smoother circumstances. +The most of its noise indeed seemed to be made in some place out of +sight, higher up. This slope was not very high, other ridges before and +beyond it looked down, not frowningly, in their October dress. Not much +else could be seen, it was a mere leafy nest. A little faint line of +smoke floated over the opposite ridge, glimpses of mountain paths here +and there caught the sunlight, below Faith's window Mr. Linden stood, +like some statue, with folded arms. + +Faith hastily finished her dressing. As soon as that was done she knelt +at her window again, to look and to pray. Those hills looked very near +the sky; life-work there seemed almost to touch heaven. Nay, did it +not? Heaven bent over the glorious earth and over the work to be done +there, with the same clear, fair, balmy promise and truth. Faith could +almost have joined the birds in their singing; her heart did; and her +heart's singing was as pure and as grave as theirs. Not the careless +glee that sees and wants nothing but roses in the way; but the deep +love and gladness, both earthly and heavenly, that makes roses grow out +of every soil. So she looked, when Mr. Linden first discerned her, +venturing from the hall door and searching round for him. + +"O little Sunbeam!" he said, "how you 'glint' upon everything! there is +a general illumination when you come out of the door. How do you feel +this morning?--rested?"-- + +"As if I never had been tired." And Faith might have said, as if she +never would be tired again; but only her eye revelled in such soft +boasting. "Where is our home now, Endecott?" + +The ridge before them, on the other side of the ravine, rose up with +swifter ascent into the blue air, and looked even more thick set with +orange trees: but where it slanted down towards the more open country, +a little break in the trees spoke of clearing and meadow and +cultivation. The clearing was for the most part on the other side, but +a bit of one green field, dotted with two or three dark objects, swept +softly over the ridge line. + +"Are you in the sight-seeing mood?" said Mr. Linden, with a look as +gladsome as her own.--"Yes; and seeing sights too. But where is that, +Endy?" + +"I shall take you there by degrees; wait a moment," and he went in for +the glass. "Now, Mignonette," he said, adjusting it for her, "I wish to +ask your notice for a little black spot on that bit of clearing. But +first, what does it look like to you, a hut or a summerhouse?"--"It's +too far off; it looks like nothing but a black spot." + +"Now, look," said Mr. Linden, smiling. O wondrous power of the glass! +the black spot remained indeed a black spot still, but with the +improvements of very decided horns, black tail, and four feet. + +"Somebody lives there," said Faith. "It's a cow."--"Most true! What cow +do you suppose it is, Mrs. Linden?" + +Faith put down her glass to laugh at him. "It's no friend of mine," she +said. "I have a few friends among cows, but not many." + +"My dear Mrs. Linden, you always were rather quick at conclusions. If +you look again, you will see that the cow has a surrounding fence of +primeval roots, which will keep even her from running away." + +Faith obeyed directions, carefully. "Endy," she said in an oddly +changed tone, "is it my black heifer?"--"It is not mine," said Mr. +Linden. + +"But I didn't know she had come!" said Faith; then putting up her glass +again to scan the far-off "black spot" and all around it, with an +intenseness of feeling which showed itself in two very different spots +on her cheeks. + +"Put down your glass, Faith," said Mr. Linden, "and look up along the +ridge to that faint blue wreath over the yellow treetops; that is your +first welcome from my study." + +She looked eagerly, and then a most delighted bright smile broke over +her face as it turned to Mr. Linden. + +"How do you know it is in your study, Endecott?--and who has lighted +it?"--"Some one! We'll go over after breakfast and see." + +At breakfast many things were discussed besides broiled chicken. And +afterwards there came to the door two of the rugged, surefooted, +mountain horses, saddled and bridled for the expedition. On the porch +steps a great lunch basket told of Mrs. Olyphant's care; Faith was up +stairs donning her habit. Mr. Linden ran up to meet her. + +"Faith," he said, laughingly, "Malthus has just confided to me, that +'if Mrs. Endecott has any things to take over,' they would make the way +wonderfully pleasant to him." + +"Who is Malthus?" + +The shy blush on Faith's cheek was pretty to see. + +"He is an old servant of mine, who has been with Mr. Olyphant, and is +coming to me again." + +Faith thought it was good news, and as good for Malthus as anybody. An +important little travelling-bag was committed to him, and the cavalcade +set forth. + +The way was far longer than the distance seemed to promise, having to +follow the possibilities of the ground. A wild way--through the forest +and over the brook; a good bridle path, but no better. The stillness of +nature everywhere; rarely a human habitation near enough to afford +human sounds. Frost and dew lay sparkling yet on moss and stone, in the +dells where the sun had not looked; though now and then a sudden +opening or turn showed a reach or a gorge of the mountains all golden +with sunlight. Trees such as Faith had never seen, stood along the path +in many places, and under them the horses' footfalls frightened the +squirrels from tree to tree. + +"Is this the only way of getting about here, Endecott?" + +"This, or on foot, in many directions. That part of our parish which +lies below us, as Mr. Olyphant says, can be reached with wheels. But +look, Mignonette!" + +The road turned sharply round a great boulder, and they were almost +home! There it lay before them, a little below, an irregular, low, grey +stone cottage, fitting itself to the ground as if fitting the ground to +it had been an impossibility. It was not on a ravine; the slope went +down, down, till it swept off into the stubble fields and cleared land +below. There was the sound of a great waterfall in the distance; close +by the house a little branch stream went bounding down, and spread +itself out peaceably in the valley. Dark hemlocks guarded the cottage +from too close neighbourhood of the cliffs at the back, but in front +the subsiding roughness of nature kept only a few oaks and maples here +and there. The cleared ground was irregular, like the house, running up +and down, as might be. No moving thing in sight but the blue smoke and +the sailing clouds and cloud shadows. The tinkle of a cow-bell made +itself heard faintly; the breeze rushed through the pines, then slowly +the black heifer came over the brow of her meadow and surveyed the +prospect. + +Faith had checked her horse, and looking at it all, up and down, turned +to Mr. Linden. There was a great deal in her look, more than words +could bear the burden of, and she said none. He held out his hand and +clasped hers speakingly, the lips unbent then, though they went back to +the grave lines of thought and interest and purpose. It was not merely +_his_ home he was looking at--it was the one to which he was bringing +her. Was it the place for Mignonette? would it be too lonely, too cold? +or was the whole scene that lay before them, in its wild beauty, the +roughness covered and glorified by that supreme sunlight, a fair +picture of their life together, wherever it might be? So he believed; +the light grew and deepened in his own eyes as he looked,--the grave +purpose, the sure hope; and Mignonette's little hand the while was held +as she had rarely felt him hold it before. + +Presently she bent down so that she could look up in his face, +answering him then with a smile. + +"Endy, what are you thinking of? I am very happy." The last words were +lowered a little. + +Mr. Linden's eyes came to her instantly, with something of their former +look, but very bright; and bending off his horse he put one arm round +her, with as full and earnest a kiss as she had ever had from him. +"That is what I was thinking of," he said, "I was thinking of my wife, +Mignonette." + +"Aren't you satisfied?" she said in her former tone.--"Perfectly." + +The look made a very personal application.--Faith shook her head a +little, and they rode on. + +The cottage door was very near presently: Faith could see all the minor +points of interest. Malthus, who had got there by a short cut, waited +to take their horses; then a white cap and apron appeared in the +doorway for a second and vanished again. + +"You will find another of our old dependants here, Faith," said Mr. +Linden. + +"Who is that?" she said quickly.--"There were three women in our +house," said Mr. Linden, "that Pet and I called respectively, 'Good,' +'Better,' and 'Best,' this is Best. Hers was a name in earnest, for we +never called her anything else; and it was always the desire of her +heart first to see my wife and then to live with her. And I was sure +she would please you." + +"What must I call her?--_Mrs_. Best?" said Faith. "No, you must call +her nothing but 'Best.'" + +"That's excellent!" said Faith gleefully. "I thought there was nobody +here but _one_ friend of yours, Endecott. Now I shall get in order +directly." + +"_That_ is what you thought you were coming to," he said, coming to her +side to lift her down. "How would you like to be taken right back to +Mr. Olyphant's?"--"Not at all!" + +In answer to which she was lightly jumped down from the saddle and +carried off into the house; where Mr. Linden and Best shook hands after +a prolonged fashion, and the old servant--not that she was very old +neither--turned glad, and eager, and respectful eyes upon her new +mistress, touching that little hand with great satisfaction of heart. + +"It's warmer in the study, sir," she said, "and there's a fire in the +kitchen, if Mrs. Endecott would like to see that. And shall I make one +anywhere else, ma'am?" + +Best's white cap and apron were very attractive, and so, on the other +hand were Faith's blush and smile. + +The hall in which they stood, rather a wide one, cut the house from +front to back, with no break of stairway. Through the open back door +Faith could see the dark cliff, and hear the brook. Mr. Linden asked +where "she would go first?" Faith whispered, "To the study." He smiled, +and opened the one door at her left hand, and led her in. + +Not yet in perfect order, the bookshelves yet unfurnished, it looked a +very abode of comfort; for there were basking sunbeams and a blazing +fire, there were shelves and cupboards of various size and shape, there +were windows, not _very_ large, it is true, but giving such views of +the fair country below, and the brook, and the ascent, and the distant +blue peaks of the range. Warm-coloured curtains, and carpet, and couch +had been put here under Mr. Olyphant's orders; and here were things of +Mr. Linden's which Faith had never seen--his escritoire and study table +among others. _Her_ table, with a dainty easy-chair, at the prettiest +of all the windows, she knew at a glance--unknown as it was before; but +the desk which she had had long ago, stood on the study table, nearer +his. Mr. Linden brought her up to the fire, and stood silent, with his +arms wrapped about her for a minute; then he stooped and kissed her. + +"How does it look, Sunbeam?" + +Faith was grave, and her eye went silently from one thing to another +even after he spoke, then turned its full sunny answer upon him. Faith +certainly thought he did too much for her; but she spoke no such +thought, leaving it as she had once meant to leave other thoughts, for +action. + +"You can put your books right in, and then it will be beautiful," she +remarked. "And look down the mountain, out of that window, Endecott." + +She was taken over to the window for a nearer view and placed in her +easy-chair to take the good of it. + +"Do you see that little red speck far down at the foot of the hill?" +Mr. Linden said, "in that particularly rough steep place?"--"Yes." + +"That is the best thing we can get for a church at present." + +Faith thought it would be a very good sort of a "thing" when he was in +it; but, as usual, she did not tell all her thoughts. They came back to +her easy-chair and table, and from them to Mr. Linden's face, with a +look which said "How could you?" But he only smiled, and asked her if +she felt disposed to go over the rest of the house. + +For a house that was not in order, this one was singularly put to +rights. Boxes and packages and trunks there were in plenty; rolls of +carpet and pieces of bedsteads, and chairs and tables, and everything +else; but they were all snugly disposed by the wall, so that the rooms +could be entered and the windows reached. The inside of the cottage +was, like the outside, irregular, picturesque, and with sufficient +capabilities of comfort. The kitchen was in a state of nicety to match +that of Best; in a piece of ground behind the house, partly prepared +for a garden, Malthus was at work as composedly as if they had all been +settled in the White Mountains for the last ten years. + +Lunch was taken somewhat informally; then the riding habit being +changed for a working dress, Faith set about reducing the rebellion +among boxes and furniture. Best had reason presently to be satisfied +not only with the manners but the powers of her new mistress; though +she also judged in her wisdom that the latter needed some restriction +in their exercise. Gentleness was never more efficient. The +sitting-room began to look like a sitting-room; tables and bookshelves +and chairs marched into place. Meanwhile Faith had been getting into +pleasant order one of the rooms up stairs, which, with what Mrs. +Olyphant had done, was easy; enjoying the mountain air that came in +through the window, and unpacking linen and china. Mr. Linden, on his +part, had been as busy with some of the rougher and heavier work, +opening boxes and unpacking books, and especially taking care of Faith; +which last work was neither rough nor heavy. She was amused (edified +too) at the new commentary on his former life which this day gave her: +to call upon servants when they were present, seemed as natural as to +do without them when they were absent. Faith mused and wondered a +little over the old habit which showed itself so plainly, thinking too +of his life in Pattaquasset. + +The day had worn on and faded, and Faith was still busy in a hunt for +some of her wedding presents which she wanted to have on the tea-table. +But Mr. Linden for some time had missed her; and entering upon a tour +of search, found her in a large closet near the kitchen, with a great +deal chest on one side and a trunk on the other. Between them, on her +knees, Faith was laying out package after package, and pile after pile +of naperies lay on the floor around her; in the very height of +rummaging, though with cheeks evidently paled since the morning. Mr. +Linden took an expressive view of the subject. + +"Mignonette, I want my tea." + +"Yes!" said Faith eagerly, looking up and then at her work again, "just +so soon as I find some things--" + +"I don't want 'things,' I want tea." + +"Yes; but you can't have tea without things." + +"I will be content with six napkins and ten tablecloths--just for +to-night, as we are in confusion." + +"And no spoons?" said Faith. "Here they are." + +"Yes; here they are," said Mr. Linden, "and here is everything else. +Just look at the state of the floor, for me to walk over." + +"Not at all," said Faith; "please keep out. I will have tea ready very +soon, Endy." + +"You shall not have anything ready," and Faith found herself lifted +from her kneeling position, and placed in a not uncomfortable nest of +things, "Now, Mrs. Linden, whatever of those packages your hands may +touch, shall lie on the floor all night. But as you see, my hands have +a different effect." And swiftly and surely the "things" began to find +corner room in the closet. + +"Endy," said Faith, catching his hands, "please don't! Just go away, +and leave me here for three minutes." + +"Not for one. I'll turn them all out again in the morning, after the +most approved fashion." + +Faith sat down, the swift colour in her cheeks testifying to a little +rebellion. It was swift to go, however, as it had been to come; and she +sat still, looking on at Mr. Linden's work, with a little soberness of +brow. That broke too, when she met his eye, in a very frank and deep +smile. + +"Well?" he said, laughing and leaning back against the closet door. + +"Will you let me go and get tea now?" she said, with the same +look.--"You pretty child! No, I want Best to get tea--and you to be +quiet." + +"I'll come and be quiet in three minutes, Endy, after I get rid of the +dust," she said, winningly. + +"Genuine minutes? If Ariel 'put a girdle round the earth' in forty, you +should be able to put one round your waist in three--I suppose that is +included in a feminine 'getting rid of the dust.'" + +Faith's face promised faithfulness, as she ran off towards the kitchen; +where in less than three minutes she and Best had proved the +(sometimes) excellence of women's business faculties. Meantime a +strange man lifted the latch of the kitchen door, and carefully closing +it after him, remained upon the scene of action. + +"How d'ye do?" he said. "Is the new man come?"--"Everybody's new here," +said Faith. "Whom do you mean?"--"Couldn't tell ye the first word! But +I've been after him better'n three times, if he ain't," the man spoke +as if it was "worse" instead of better. + +"Whom do you mean?" said Faith more gravely; "the minister?"--"Now +that's what I call hitting the nail," said her visitor. "Well if he's +here, just tell him to come up the mounting, will ye?"--"When?" + +"Moon sets close on to nine, and its lighter afore that." + +"Where is the place?" said Faith, now very serious indeed; "and what do +you want the minister for?"--"I don't want him, bless you!" said the +man. "If I did, I shouldn't be standin' here. It's an old soul up our +way. He's got to go up to the bridge and over the bridge and 'tother +side of the bridge, and so on till he comes to it. And the bridge is +slippy." With which summing up, the man turned to the door, rattling +the latch in a sort of preparatory way, to give Faith a chance for +remarks. + +"But who wants him there and what for? you haven't told me."--"Why it's +old Uncle Bias. Sen he's sick he's got something on his mind, never +seemed to afore, and he's in a takin' to tell it. That's all." And he +opened the door. + +"Why won't to-morrow do as well as to-night?"--"Wal," said the man +slowly, "s'pose it might. Nevertheless, to-morrow ain't worth much to +him. Nobody'd give much for it." + +"Why?"--"'Taint certain he'd get what he paid for." + +"Is he very sick?"--"Very enough," said the man with a nod, and opening +the door. + +Faith sprang forward. "Stop a minute, will you, friend, and see Mr. +Linden." + +"That's his name, as sure as guns," said he of the "mounting." "No, +thankee, I don't care about seein' him now, next time'll do just as +well, and it's time he was off." + +"Then wait and show him the way, will you? how is he to find it?"--"Do +tell!" said the man slowly, "if he can't find his way round in the +moonlight?"--"Better than most people," said Faith; "but I think he +would like to see you." + +The man however chose to defer that pleasure also to "next time," and +went off. Faith went to the study. Coming up behind Mr. Linden where he +was sitting, and laying both hands on his shoulders, she said in a very +low and significant voice, "Endy, some one wants you." + +"Only that you never assert your claims," he said, bringing the hands +together, "I should suppose it must be the very person whom I want." + +Her head stooped lower, till the soft cheek and hair lay against his. +But she only whispered, "Endy, it is some one up the mountain." + +"Is it?" he said, rousing up; but only turning his lips to her cheek. +"Well, people up the mountain must have what they want. Is it now, +Faith?" + +"Endy--they say it's a dying man." + +"Where? Is the messenger here?"--"I couldn't make him wait--he thought +he had business somewhere else. The place is--I dare say Malthus +knows--up the mountain, beyond the bridge--you are to go over the +bridge and on till you come to the house. And he says the bridge is +slippery." Only a fine ear could detect the little change in Faith's +voice. But she knew it was noticed, from the smile on the lips that +kissed her, two or three times. Then Mr. Linden disengaged himself and +rose up. + +"Faith," he said, "you are to wait tea for me, and in the mean time you +must take one of Miss Bezac's cups of comfort and lie down on the sofa +and go to sleep. Your eyes will be just as good guiding stars sleeping +as waking." + +She said not another word, but watched him go off and out into the half +dark wilderness. The moon shone bright indeed, but only touched the +tops of many a woody outline, and many a steep mountain side rose up +and defied her. Faith smelled the wild sweet air, looked up and down at +the gleams of light and bands of shadow; and then came back to the +study where the fire blazed, and sat down on the floor in front of it; +gazing into the red coals, and following in fancy Mr. Linden on his +walk and errand. It took him away from her, and so many such an errand +would, often; but to speak comfort to the dying and tell the truth to +the ignorant.--Faith gloried in it. He was an ambassador of Christ; and +not to have him by her side would Faith keep him from his work. That he +might do his work well--that he might be blessed in it, both to others +and himself, her very heart almost fused itself in prayer. So thinking, +while every alternate thought was a petition for him, weariness and +rest together at last put her to sleep; and she slept a dreamless sweet +sleep with her head on Mr. Linden's chair. + +She awoke before he got back, though the evening was long set in. +Feeling refreshed, Faith thought herself at liberty to reverse orders +and went to the forbidden closet again, and to further conjurations +with Best. They could not have taken long; for when, some hour later, +Mr. Linden was nearing the house on his return, he had a pretty view of +her, standing all dressed before the fire in his study. The glow shone +all over her--he could see her well, and her fresh neatness. He could +see more. Faith Linden to-night was not just the Faith Derrick of old +time; nor even of six months ago. The old foundations of character were +all there, intact; but upon them sat a nameless grace, not simply of +cultivation, nor of matured intelligence, nor even of happiness. A +certain quiet elegance, a certain airy dignity--which had belonged to +her only since she had been _Mr. Linden's wife_. She stood there, +waiting now for him to come home. + +The firelight caught behind her the gleam of silver, whether Mr. Linden +could see it or not, where the little chocolatiere stood brilliant. +Faith had found that in her last rummaging. Miss Bezac's new trencher +and bread knife were on the table too, with a loaf of Mrs. Olyphant's +bread; and the fireshine gleamed on Mr. Alcott's saltcellars, and on +the Mignonette tea service. Faith evidently had pleased her fancy. But +now her fancy had forgotten it or left it in the background; and for +what, was well shown by her spring as she caught the sound of the +coming step. She met Mr. Linden at the door, gladness in every line and +movement, and yet the same grace over all her action now, that a minute +before was in all her repose. She said nothing at all. + +"Watching for me, my dear child!" he said. "Faith, you have been on my +heart all these hours." + +She waited till he had come up to the fire, and then softly inquired, +"What for?"--"'What for no?'" he said, smiling, but giving her face a +somewhat earnest consideration. "Have you been asleep?"--"Yes. And then +I thought I might go after my chocolate pot, in the closet." + +"Sensible child! What did you think upon the great question of setting +forth to see me safe over the bridge?"--Her face changed, though +smiling. She whispered--"I did see you safe over it." But his lips were +grave instantly, and the eyes even flushed. And Faith could see then +that he was exceedingly tired. Gently her hands rather insinuated than +pushed him into the chair, and she ran away to give an order; coming +back to do two or three other things for his comfort. Still silent, +standing there beside his chair, she presently stooped and put her +fresh sweet lips to his. Roses full of dew are not sweeter; and if +roses were sentient things their kisses could not give sympathy more +fragrantly, nor with more pure quiet. Holding her fast, Mr. Linden +asked what she thought of her share of clerical duties, on the whole? + +Faith answered somewhat quaintly, "Not much." + +"You don't!--What a triumph for Miss Essie! Were you lonely, Faith?" + +She was going to answer, then sprang away from him, for Malthus came to +the door. And the table was spread, with as dainty exactness as if +there were no disorder anywhere in Mr. Linden's household. The little +chocolatiere steamed out its welcome, Malthus was gone, and Faith stood +by Mr. Linden's chair again. + +"It is ready, Endecott." + +He had watched her from under the shadow of his hand, her soft +arranging steps and touches. "Faith," he said, looking up, "is this the +night when I am to have sugarless tea, to remind me of the +over-sweetened cup of long ago?" + +Her smile and flash of the eye were conscious as well as bright. "I +guess, sugar is 'potent' yet, Endy." + +"_You_ are!" he said. "Have you been lonely, my dear child? You don't +answer me." + +She hesitated a very little. "I felt you were away, Endy--but I didn't +wish you here. No, I wasn't lonely." His eyes spoke a full +understanding of both parts of her sentence. But his words touched +somewhat else. + +"Those poor people up on the mountain! poor as unbelief could make +them. Faith, I must go there again in the morning." + +"Is it far?"--"Pretty far. On the crest of the ridge." + +"What about them, Endy?" + +"What were you looking for, here in the embers?"--"I?" she said, the +colour instantly starting as she understood his question. "I was +looking for you, then." + +"I was sure of it. I saw myself distinctly portrayed in a piece of +charcoal." + +She laughed, gaily and softly. "Wouldn't you like to have some tea, and +then tell me what you saw up on the mountain?" she whispered.--"Ah, +little Sunbeam," he said, "I spent some weary hours there. No, I don't +want to tell you about it to-night. And so at last I came home, +thinking of the scene I had been through, and of you, left alone here +in this strange place. And then I had that vision of my wife." + +She was silent, her face showing certainly a grave consciousness that +he was tired, and a full entering into the feeling of his work; but for +herself, a spirit as strong in its foundations of rest, as full of joy +both in his work and in him as a spirit could be. So till her eyes met +his, then the look broke in a winsome little confessing smile, and the +eyes fell. + +"Don't you want something better than visions?" she said.--"Is that a +challenge?" He laughed and rose up, carrying her off to her place at +the table, and installing her with all the honours; and still holding +her by the shoulders asked "if she felt like the head of the +house?"--"No indeed!" said Faith. + +"What then?"--"You know," said Faith, colouring, "what I am." + +"Mrs. Endecott, I suppose. I have noticed, Mignonette," said Mr. Linden +as he went round to his chair, "that when ever you see fit to agree +with me, it is always in your own words!" + +Which remark Faith benevolently answered with a cup of cocoa, which was +good enough to answer anything. + + + + + +THE END. + + + +PRINTING OFFICE OF THE PUBLISHER. + + + + + +Typographical errors silently corrected: + +Chapter 2: =who have them.= replaced =by who have them."= + +Chapter 2: =in one sphere!"= replaced by =in one sphere!'"= + +Chapter 2: =down the forfeits."= replaced by =down the forfeits.= + +Chapter 3: =looked her eye= replaced by =looked, her eye= + +Chapter 4: =spirit of light.= replaced by =spirit of light."= + +Chapter 4: =commandment.= replaced by =commandment.'= + +Chapter 5: ="don't you come= replaced by =don't you come= + +Chapter 7: =Sally. I've nothin'= replaced by =Sally. "I've nothin'= + +Chapter 7: =hammer and nails."= replaced by =hammer and nails.= + +Chapter 8: =ever was tired= replaced by =ever was tried= + +Chapter 11: ="Now how is this= replaced by =Now how is this= + +Chapter 14: =truth forever.'"= replaced by =truth forever.'= + +Chapter 15: =drop the sail?= replaced by =drop the sail?"= + +Chapter 15: =old protegees= replaced by =old protegees= + +Chapter 15: =pullin' em through= replaced by =pullin' 'em through= + +Chapter 15: =what he said that for= replaced by =what he said that fur= + +Chapter 28: =Endy," said Faith", "I shouldn't= replaced by =Endy," +said Faith, "I shouldn't= + +Chapter 30: =Look Endy= replaced by =Look, Endy= + +Chapter 33: ="What's the state= replaced by =What's the state= + +Chapter 33: =make butter, she said= replaced by =make butter," she +said= + +Chapter 35: =Faith, I'm afeard!= replaced by =Faith, I'm afeard!"= + +Chapter 39: =so Dromy could do= replaced by ="so Dromy could do= + +Chapter 42: =deplaise= replaced by =deplaise= + +Chapter 43: =want anything to eat= replaced by =want anythin' to eat= + +Chapter 43: =gentleman's admiration= replaced by =gentlemen's +admiration= + +Chapter 43: =I do remember= replaced by =I do remember,= + +Chapter 43: =vous plait= replaced by =vous plait= + +Chapter 43: =where her pleased= replaced by =where he pleased= + +Chapter 44: =been in part of= replaced by =been in part off= + +Chapter 44: ='And they overcame= replaced by ="'And they overcame= + +Chapter 44: =only to look at;"= replaced by =only to look at,"= + +Chapter 44: =O litte Mignonette= replaced by =O little Mignonette= + +Chapter 45: =heard her talking.= replaced by =heard her talking,= + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Say and Seal, Volume II, by +Susan Warner and Anna Warner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAY AND SEAL, VOLUME II *** + +***** This file should be named 28545.txt or 28545.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/5/4/28545/ + +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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