"Nonsense!" said Mr. Linden, looking grave,--"I am as anxious on that point as you can be. What nonsense has he got in his head?"

Faith hesitated, flushed and paled a little, and looked at her lilies.

"I don't know whether I ought to speak of it," she began, with much less than her usual composure of speech. "Perhaps it is not my business. Please forgive me if I speak wrong. But I half think you ought to know it."--

"I'll try to bear the knowledge," he said smiling--"if you will promise to speak the cabalistic two words that were to have such effect upon Reuben. So you want to put nonsense into my head, Miss Faith?"

"Perhaps you know it already?" said Faith. "At any rate I think I should feel better satisfied if you did know it. Mr. Linden," she said speaking low--"do you know that Squire Deacon has been trying to do you mischief?"

"Just suppose for a moment that you are one of my scholars, and give me a definition of mischief."

To judge by the unbent lines of Faith's brow, there was nothing very disagreeable to her in the supposition. Yet she had a look of care for the 'definition,' too.

"When a man is meaning to do harm, isn't he doing mischief?"

"Only to himself."

"But do you mean that one _can't_ do harm to others in this world?"

"You said 'when a man is _meaning_ to do harm.'"

"Ah," said Faith laughing, "I should want a great deal of teaching before I could give a definition that would suit you! Well then, isn't _harm_ mischief?"

"I'm afraid I must yield that point."

"Then," said Faith simply, but very modestly,--"we come back to where we started from?"

"What shall we do there?" said he smiling.

"Nothing, perhaps," said Faith with the same simplicity. "I only thought it right to put you there, Mr. Linden."

"Thank you, Miss Faith. Now will you please p.r.o.nounce over me the two words intended for Reuben?"

Faith laughed a little, but then said gravely, "Mr. Linden, I should be very sorry to think you needed them."

"It's impossible always to avoid being very sorry: I _want_ them, at all events. Haven't you just been putting nonsense into my head?"

"Have I?" said Faith.

"Do you suppose there was any there before?"

"I--don't--think," said Faith, surveying his face,--"there is much there now. I guess you don't need the two words, Mr. Linden. I was going to tell Reuben he was a goose for thinking that that man could hurt you."

His face changed a little.

"Poor Reuben!" he said--then with the former look--"On the whole, perhaps it was well he did not come back. If you put those in water they will open their eyes to-morrow. Fresh water--not salt," he added as he followed her into the house,--"they are not part of the marine Flora."

Tea was ready, with its usual cheer of eatables and pleasant faces; not quite with its usual flow of talk. Mrs. Derrick certainly had something bewildering on her mind, for she even looked at her guest two or three times when he was looking at her. The pond lilies were alone in the twilight parlour.

That was probably the reason why Lucinda introduced Parson Somers into the tea-room, the parson happening to call at this identical time.

Parson Somers was always in a genial state of mind;--always, at least, whenever he came into Mrs. Derrick's parlour; by the testimony of numbers it was the same in many other parlours. He came in so now; gave a smile all round; and took an empty chair and place at the table like one who found it pleasant.

"Well, I declare, Mrs. Derrick," said Mr. Somers when he was seated,--"I don't think there's--a--a more cheerful room in Pattaqua.s.set than this one; why, you always have everything agreeable here. A cup of tea, now--I didn't expect it"

"Why we always _do_ have tea, Mr. Somers," said Mrs. Derrick, "but it don't seem strong to-night. Lucindy--take the teapot and make some fresh."

"These baked apples are strong--in numbers at least," said Mr. Linden, as he bestowed one upon Mr. Somers.

"Thank you!--it's all strong enough, Mrs. Derrick--thank you!--very good. And Mr. Linden--how are you--a--getting along with your juvenile charge? Confining work, sir,--isn't it?"

"Rather, sir--to the body."

"Not to the mind, eh? Well--I should have thought that to a gentleman like you it would prove--a--_more_ deleterious to the mental faculties.

But I suppose you find yourself rewarded by your pupils' improvement and--regard!"

"Yes sir--their regard is very precious to me," was the quiet reply.

"I should think so! Why there's that boy Reuben Taylor--strange father that boy has--fisherman;--I met that boy this evening, in the street, and he was crying,--down a little below here--he was going home. I asked him--ha--if Mr. Linden had been dealing hardly with him?--and I declare!--I didn't know but Reuben would have attacked me on the spot."

"Has Mr. Linden a character in the village for cruelty?" said Faith.

"I--I declare--not that I know of, Miss Faith. I should think it could not be deserved. That boy's attachment is certainly--ha--very warm. My dear Mrs. Derrick, how well Miss Faith is looking! She always looks well; but to-night--ha--the colour of her cheeks is--to be remarked."

"You will get a character for cruelty, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden, "if you ask about my character before my face."

Faith looked up as if she would willingly have asked a question; but that being in present circ.u.mstances impossible, she merely uttered a quiet little 'no,' and went on with her tea and with a colour still further improved, A quiet little 'yes,' of about equal prominence, did not divert the attention of Mr. Somers from his own remarks.

"It's delightful to see--really," said that gentleman. "But Mr.

Linden--ha--I am sorry to find that you haven't the good will of our neighbour, Squire Deacon. The Squire's a valuable man--very!--the Squire's a valuable man in the town. I am sorry. Do you know, Mr.

Linden--ha--how it has happened?"

"Have you asked the Squire himself, sir?" said Mr. Linden.

"Why--no, sir, I haven't. I--ha--wanted to get at the truth of it, that I might, if possible, do something to heal the breach. Now you are doing a valuable work in Pattaqua.s.set, sir--I should be sorry to see it interrupted--very--and I thought the best way would be to try to find out what the matter was, in order if possible to its being removed. And to get at the truth it is often best to hear both sides."

"But I have no side to tell, sir," said Mr. Linden--smiling in spite of himself. "I cannot deny that Squire Deacon seems to withhold his good will--I think it is for him to tell his reasons."

"Then you really have no idea what it can be about? and I may tell him so? Because that would be a great point."

"No sir, you may not tell him that."

"Then you _have_ an idea what the matter is?" said Mr. Somers eagerly.

"Then, sir, if you will be so good as to let me know what it is--I have no doubt--I entertain no doubt--we shall be able to smooth it all away, and have peace."

"You cannot prove one man's ideas by another man's," said Mr. Linden.

"Then you can give me no help?" said Mr. Somers regretfully. "But Mr.