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 st.i.tches, 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,--"n.o.body 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 sh.o.r.e 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?"