"Dr. Harrison, Miss Faith. At least I thought he said so."

"Did he speak to you?"

"Yes ma'am--and just pushed my word out of the way when I gave it,--said it might be well enough to tell people but he didn't think you liked it. And so I got vexed. I'm so used to Mr. Linden," Reuben said--as if in excuse.

"Are you satisfied now, Reuben?" said Faith, giving him a good look of her eyes.

A little qualified his look was--perhaps because he had been too much troubled to have the traces go off at once; but there was no want of satisfaction in his,

"O yes, Miss Faith--I can't tell you how thankful I am to you!

Goodnight, ma'am."

Faith went back to the parlour. And then Mr. Linden, taking from his pocket a piece of broad dark blue ribband, and laying it lightly round Faith's shoulders, told her gravely, "that she was ent.i.tled to wear that for the rest of the evening."

Faith matched the blue with red, and stood eying the ribband which she had caught as it was falling from her shoulders, seeming for a minute as if she had as much as she could bear. Rallying, she looked up at Mr.

Linden to get a little more light as to what he expected of her, or what he meant. But unless she could read a decided opinion that the two 'favours' looked better together than separate, his face gave her no information. Then smiling he said,

"I don't mean that you _must_ wear it--merely that you have the right."

Faith gave another glance at his face, and then without more ado tied the blue ribband round her waist, where as she still wore the white dress of yesterday, it shewed to very good advantage. She said nothing more; only as she was quitting the room now in earnest to get tea, gave him an odd, pleasant, half grateful, half grave little smile. Too many things however had been at work to admit of her coming down into quietness immediately. The red left her no more than the blue for the rest of that evening.

CHAPTER XVI.

Sat.u.r.day was but a half holiday to Mrs. Derrick's little family--unless indeed they called their work play, which some of them did. It was spent thus.

By Mrs. Derrick, in the kitchen, in the bed-rooms, all over the house generally--with intervals at the oven door.

By Mr. Linden in the sitting-room, where Faith came from time to time as she got a chance, to begin some things with him and learn how to begin others by herself. The morning glided by very fast on such smooth wheels of action, and dinner came with the first Natural Philosophy lesson yet unfinished. It was finished afterwards however, and then Mr.

Linden prepared himself to go forth on some expedition, of which he only said that it was a long one.

"I am going to pet.i.tion to have tea half an hour later than usual to-night, Miss Faith," he said.

"_Just_ half an hour later, Mr. Linden?" she said smiling. "You shall have it when you like."

"I hope to be home by that time--if not don't wait for me. You will find all the materials for your French exercise on my table."

Which intimation quickened Faith's steps about the little she had beforehand to do, and also quickened a trifle the beating of her heart.

It was not quiet--timidity and pleasure were throbbing together, and throbbing fast, when she turned her back upon the rest of the house and went to Mr. Linden's room. She would have a good uninterrupted time this afternoon, at any rate. And the materials were there, as he had said,--all the materials; from books, open and shut, to the delicate white paper, and a pen which might be the very one Johnny Fax thought could write of itself. Faith stood and looked at them, and then sat down to work, if ever such a determination was taken by human mind.

She had been a good while absorbed in her business when a knock came to the front door, which Faith did not hear. Cindy however had ears to spare, and presently informed Mrs. Derrick that a gentleman wished to see her. And in the sitting-room Mrs. Derrick found Dr. Harrison.

"You haven't _forgotten to remember_ me, I hope, Mrs. Derrick," he said as he took her hand. He looked very handsome, and very pleasant, as he stood there before her, and his winning ease of manner was enough to propitiate people of harder temper than the one he was just now dealing with.

"No indeed!" said Mrs. Derrick; "I remember a great many things about you,"--(as in truth she did.) "But I daresay you've changed a good deal since then. You've been gone a great while, Dr. Harrison."

"Do you _hope_ I have changed?--or are you afraid I have?"

"Why I don't think I said I did either," said Mrs. Derrick smiling, for she felt as if Dr. Harrison was an old acquaintance. "And I suppose it makes more difference to you than to me, anyway." Which words were not blunt in their intention, but according to the good lady's habit were a somewhat unconscious rendering of her thoughts. "How's Miss Sophy, after her holiday? I always think play's the hardest work that's done."

"I am very sorry you found it so!" said the doctor.

"You needn't be--" said Mrs. Derrick, rocking complacently and making her knitting needles play in a style that certainly might be called work,--"I've got over it now. To be sure I was tired to death, but I like to be, once in a while."

The doctor laughed, as if, in a way, he had found his match.

"And how is Miss Derrick?" he asked. "If she was tired too, it was my fault."

"I guess that 'll never be one of your faults, Dr. Harrison," said Mrs.

Derrick,--"it would take any amount of folks to tire _her_ out. She's just like a bird always. O she's well, of course, or I shouldn't be sitting here."

"And so like a bird that she lives in a region above mortal view, and only descends now and then?"

"Yes, she does stay upstairs a good deal," said Mrs. Derrick, knitting away. "Whenever she's got nothing to do down here. She's been down all the morning."

"I can't shoot flying at this kind of game," said the doctor;--"I'll endeavour to come when the bird is perched, next time. But in the meanwhile, Miss Derrick seemed pleased the other night with these Chinese illuminations--and Sophy took it into her head to make me the bearer of one, that has never yet illuminated anything, hoping that it will do that office for her heart with Miss Derrick. The heart will bear inspection, I believe, with or without the help of the lantern."

And the doctor laid a little parcel on the table. Mrs. Derrick looked at the parcel, and at the doctor, and knit a round or two.

"I'm sure she'll be very much obliged to Miss Harrison," she said. "But I know I sha'n't remember all the message. I suppose _that_ won't matter."

"Not the least," said the doctor. "The lantern is expected to throw light upon some things. May I venture to give Mrs. Derrick another word to remember, which must depend upon her kindness alone for its presentation and delivery?"

Mrs. Derrick stopped knitting and looked all attention.

"It isn't much to remember," said the doctor laughing gently. "Sophy wishes very much to have Miss Derrick go with her to-morrow afternoon.

She is going to drive to Deep River, and wished me to do my best to procure Miss Derrick's goodwill, and yours, for this pleasure of her company. Shall I hope that her wish is granted?"

Now Mrs. Derrick, though not quick like some other people, had yet her own womanly instincts; and that more than one of them was at work now, was plain enough. But either they confused or thwarted each other, for laying down her work she said,

"I know she won't go--but I'll let her come and give her own answer;"

and left the room. For another of her woman's wits made her never send Cindy to call Faith from her studies. Therefore she went up, and softly opening the door of the study room, walked in and shut it after her.

"Pretty child," she said, stroking Faith's hair, "are you very busy?"

"Very, mother!"--said Faith looking up with a burning cheek and happy face, and pen pausing in her hand. "What then?"--

"Wasn't it the queerest thing what I said that day at Neanticut!" said Mrs. Derrick, quite forgetting Dr. Harrison in the picture before her.

"What, dear mother?"

"Why when I asked why you didn't get Mr. Linden to help you. How you do write, child!"--which remark was meant admiringly.

"Mother!"--said Faith. "But it can be done"--she added with quiet resolution.