"Well child?" said her mother a little abstractedly.

"I wish, mother, you would ask Mr. Linden to read and pray at night--and let Cindy and Mr. Skip come in?"

"Why Faith!" said Mrs. Derrick, now fully roused,--"how you talk, child! Wish I'd do this, and wish I'd let 'tother--don't I let you and Mr. Linden do pretty much what you've a mind to?"

It was incomprehensible to Faith that her mother's permission should have to do with any of Mr. Linden's actions; but she merely repeated,

"I wish you'd ask him, mother."

"I guess I will!" said Mrs. Derrick--"when I do you'll know it, and he too. Ask him yourself, pretty child," she added, looking at Faith with a very unbent brow.

"But mother," said Faith with a little tinge in her cheeks,--"it would be much better that you should ask him. You are the person to do it."

"I should like to see you make that out," said Mrs. Derrick. "I don't think I'm such a person at all."

"Only because you are the head of the family, mother," Faith said with a little fainter voice.

"Well, if I'm the head of the family I'll do as I like, for once," said Mrs. Derrick. "I'd like to hear him, I'm sure,--child it would seem like old times,--but I wouldn't ask him, for a kingdom!"

Faith looked at her, half laughing and grave too--but gave up the point, seeing she must.

"And while you're about it, Faith, you can just ask him to make his boys behave. Sam Stoutenburgh did nothing all meeting time but look at you. So I guess the sermon didn't do _him_ much good."

Faith went back to the contemplation of the fire. However, she apparently had not made up her mind that _she_ was 'the person,' or else was not ready to act upon it; for when Mr. Linden was heard opening the front door Faith ran away, and came down no more that night.

CHAPTER XII.

"It occurs to me, Parson Somers," said that gentleman's lady wife, as she salted and sugared his morning bowl of porridge; "it occurs to me, that Pattaqua.s.set is getting stirred up with a long pole."

"Ah, my dear?" said Mr. Somers--"'Stirred up! Well--what makes you think so?"

"Why--" said Mrs. Somers tasting the porridge--"Jenny! fetch some more milk. How do you suppose Mr. Somers is going to eat such thick stuff as that?--and when do you suppose he is going to get his breakfast, at this rate? If you let your head run upon Jem Waters in this style, Jenny, I shall forbid him the house. I always notice that the day after he's been here Mr. Somers' porridge is too thick."

"Well, my dear," said the parson,--"ha--the porridge will do very well.

I thought you were speaking of Pattaqua.s.set when you spoke of something being 'stirred up.'"

"So I was," said the lady, while Jenny blushing beyond her ordinary peonic hue, ran about in the greatest confusion, catching up first the water pitcher and then the mola.s.ses cup. "'Do very well?'--no, indeed it won't!--but men never know anything about housekeeping."

"Well, my dear, but about Pattaqua.s.set?--I know something about Pattaqua.s.set. Is there any trouble in the village? It's a very peaceable place," continued Mr. Somers, looking at his distant breakfast dish,--"always was--ha--I wish you'd let me have my porridge.

Is there any trouble, my dear?"

"I can't tell,--" said Mrs. Somers, adding critical drops of milk,--"see for yourself, Mr. Somers. If there isn't, there may be.--One set of things is at sixes, and another at sevens.

There--that's better, though it's about as far from perfection as I am."

"We're none of us perfect, and so--ha--my dear, we can't blame the porridge," said Mr. Somers with slight jocularity which pleased at least himself. "But Pattaqua.s.set is about as near the impossible state as most places, that _I_ know. What have you heard of, Mrs. Somers? You deal in rather--a--enigmatical construction, this morning."

"Who said I had heard anything?" said the lady,--"I only said, use your eyes, Mr. Somers,--open your study window and let the light in. Just see what a rumpus we've had about the school, to begin."

"Ha! my dear," said Mr. Somers, "if opening the window of my study is going to let trouble come in, I'd rather--ha--keep it shut! Judge Harrison thinks the teacher is a very fine man--and I've no doubt he is!--and the Judge is going to give him a great celebration. I have no doubt we shall all enjoy it. I think the disturbance that has been made will not give Mr. Linden any more trouble."

"Why who cares about his trouble?" said Mrs. Somers rather briskly,--"I dare say he's very good, Mr. Somers, but I sha'n't fret over _him_. I'm not sure but he's a little _too_ good for my liking--I'm not sure that it's quite natural. Jenny! fetch some more biscuit!--how long do you suppose Mr. Somers and I can live upon one?"

Parson Somers eat porridge and studied the philosophy of Mrs Somers'

statements.

"My dear," said he at length,--"I am not sure that you are correct in your view--indeed it seems to me--a--rather contradictory. I don't know what the stir is about; and I don't think there is any occasion, my dear, for you--a--to fret, about anything. Not about Mr. Linden, certainly. The disaffection to the new school was--a--confined to very few! I don't think it has taken root in the public mind generally. You will be better able to form a judgment on Thursday."

"Bless your heart! Mr. Somers," said his wife, "what's Thursday to do?

If you think I've said all I _could_ say--why there's no help for it.

Now there's Sam Deacon--don't come to meeting half the time lately,--and to match that, Faith Derrick walks into Sunday school with one of those Seacomb children tagging after her."

"Well," said Mr. Somers looking exceedingly mystified,--"what's the harm in that? If Miss Faith chooses to do it, it shews, I am sure, a--a charitable disposition,--praiseworthy!"

"Mr. Somers!"--said the lady. "Is it possible you can think for one moment that I mean what you mean? If she came to Society too, I should know what to make of it, but when people work alongside of some folks, and not alongside of others, why it's as long as it's broad. Then Maria Davids says she drove those boys over to Neanticut 'tother day--or helped drive 'em. What do you think of that, Mr. Somers?"

Mr. Somers looked as if his wife was too fast for him.

"My dear," said he however, plucking up,--"I think I would trust Faith Derrick as soon as Maria Davids, or--any other young lady in Pattaqua.s.set! If she did go to Neanticut I presume it was all as it should be. Squire Deacon never was--a--very remarkable for being a religious man or anything like that; and you can't help folks working alongside of each other--they will do it," said Mr. Somers relapsing into his jocular mood. "I am a man of peace, my dear, and you should be a woman of peace."

"Why you don't suppose I believed what Maria Davids said?" replied Mrs.

Somers. "Her words are not worth their weight in gold--and she isn't a bit too good to be jealous. But the thing is, if Faith didn't do that, what _did_ she do? Jenny! fetch in the tub of hot water, and be spry!"

With Jenny and the hot water walked in a somewhat rough-looking boy, who declared without much ceremony, beyond doffing his cap, that "'ma sent him to find out where the sewin' meetin' was to be this week."

"Who are you?" said Mrs. Somers, dipping a cup in the hot water and wiping it with a 'spryness' that was quite imposing. "Is your name Bill Wright?"

"No 'taint," said the boy. "Guess again."

"You'll never pay anybody for much trouble that way," said Mrs. Somers dipping in the corresponding saucer. "Jenny--did you ever hear of anybody's getting along in a dish-tub without a mop?"

"Who is it wants to know, sir?" said Mr. Somers politely. "Who is your father?"

"He's farmer Davids."

"Oh! and are you Phil?"

"Yes! What be I goin' to tell her?"--This interrogatory being sent in the direction of the dish-tub.

"Why you can tell her two things," said Mrs. Somers, eying Phil from head to foot. "In the first place, the Society'll meet down at Miss Bezac's; and in the second, as soon as your mother'll teach her children how to behave themselves I shall be very glad to see them."

"The Society'll meet down to Miss Purcell's?"

"Miss Bezac's"--said Mrs. Somers, preserving a cheerful and brisk equanimity in the midst of her sharp words that was quite delightful.

"Pay more attention to your lessons, Phil Davids, and you'll be a better boy, if you look sharp."