Faith escaped over the wet floor, sprang past the white-haired child at the doorstep, and was just in time to be put into the chaise by Dr. Wasgatt, who drove up as she came out. She did not dare trust her voice to speak within hearing of the house; but when they had come round the mills again, into the secluded river road, she startled its quietness and the doctor's composure, with a laugh that rang out clear and overflowing like the very soul of fun.
"So that's all you've got out of your visit?"
"Yes, that is all," said Faith. "But it's a great deal!" And she laughed again—such a merry little waterfall of a laugh.
When she reached home, Mrs. Gartney met her at the door.
"Well, Faithie," she cried, somewhat eagerly, "what have you found?"
Faith's eyes danced with merriment.
"I don't know, mother! A—hippopotamus, I think!"
"Won't she do? What do you mean?"
"Why she's as big! I can't tell you how big! And she sat in a rocking-chair and rocked all the time—and she says her name is Miss Battis!"