"I don't know as I want you to get anything,—child you've got enough now for me. Not that he wouldn't like it, either," said Mrs. Derrick musingly—"because if he wouldn't, I wouldn't give much for him. But I guess it's just as well not." And Mrs Derrick stroked her hand fondly over Faith's head, and told her that if she stood out there without a bonnet she would get sunburnt.
"But mother!" said Faith at this enigmatical speech, "what do you mean? Who wouldn't like what?"
"What does it signify, child?—since I didn't say it?"
"But mother," persisted Faith gently, "what had I better get that I haven't?"
"I don't know as you had better get it, child—and I never said he wouldn't like it, I'm sure," said Mrs. Derrick with a little self-vindication.
"Who, mother?"
"Why—nobody," said Mrs. Derrick,—"who's talking of anybody?"
"Dear mother," said Faith, "don't you mean to tell me what you mean?"
"I guess it's just as well not," her mother repeated. "The fact that he'd like it don't prove anything."
Faith looked at her, coloured a little, laughed a little, and gave up the point.