Which Mr. Gartney did, wondering, vaguely, in the instant required for his transit to the apartment, whether bandit or lunatic might await his offices.
All happened in a moment; and in that moment, the minister's fugitive senses began to return.
"Lie quiet, a minute. Faith, get a glass of wine, or a little brandy."
Faith quickly brought both; and Mr. Armstrong, whom her father now assisted to the armchair again, took the wine from her hand, with a smile that thanked her, and depreciated himself.
"I am not ill," he said. "It is all over now. It was the sudden shock. I did not think I could have been so weak."
Mrs. Gartney had gone to find some hartshorn. Mrs. Etherege, seeing that the need for it was passing, went out to tell her sister so, and to ask the strange woman who had originated all the commotion, what it could possibly mean. Mr. Gartney, at the same instant, caught a glimpse of his horse, which he had left unfastened at the gate, giving indications of restlessness, and hastened out to tie him.
Faith and Mr. Armstrong were left alone.
"Did I frighten you, my child?" he asked, gently. "It was a strange thing to happen! I thought that woman was in her grave. I thought she died, when—I will tell you all about it some day, soon, Miss Faith. It was the sad, terrible page of my life."
Faith's eyes were lustrous with sympathy. Under all other thought was a beating joy—not looked at yet—that he could speak to her so! That he could snatch this chance moment to tell her, only, of his sacred sorrow!
She moved a half step nearer, and laid her hand, softly, on the chair arm beside him. She did not touch so much as a fold of his sleeve; but it seemed, somehow, like a pitying caress.