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 cla.s.s of the population who have 'fever nagur', is called in their vernacular 'Queen Anne'--anglice, quinine. Faith, you have no idea how those b.u.t.tercups are beautified!"

"Flowers always are, that you handle," said Faith.

"You see how appropriate they are to my Sunbeam--for

'The b.u.t.tercup 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 sh.o.r.e?"

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 cla.s.s 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 sh.o.r.e--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 a.s.sumed 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 sh.o.r.e."

"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."