"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 amus.e.m.e.nt 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 l.u.s.tre 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 p.r.i.c.king 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 n.o.body, 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 dest.i.tute 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 Pattaqua.s.set 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 n.o.body 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 pa.s.s 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! n.o.body 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?"