"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 Pattaquasset is getting stirred up with a long pole."