"Yes"—said Mr. Linden with great solemnity as he set down the empty cup,—"but too much sugar is at least not a common misfortune. With what appreciation I shall look back to this, some day when I have not enough! What did you think of the sunrise this morning?"
"Do you mean, because the sky was covered with clouds?" said Faith. "But there was enough—the sun looked through; and the colours were beautiful. Did you see them?"
"I wonder when you did, child?" said Miss Danforth;—"up to your elbows in butter!"
"Yes, I saw them. Then you are true to your name, Miss Faith, and find 'enough' in a cloudy sky?—Pray, Miss Danforth, what depth of butter does a churning yield in this region?"
"I guess," said Miss Danforth laughing, "you never saw much of farmer's work—did you?"
"Is butter-making farmer's work?" said Mr. Linden with a face of grave inquiry.
"Here's the trustys"—said Cindy opening the door; "at least that's what they said they be, but I'm free to confess 'tain't nobody but Squire Deacon and Parson Somers."
"Do they want me?" said Mr. Linden looking round.
"I guess likely"—said Cindy. "The Squire does come here to see Miss
Faith, but I guess 'tain't her he wants this time."
And Cindy vanished.