"What do the trustees want?" said Miss Danforth.
"Upon the testimony of Cinderella, they want me," said Mr. Linden. "Miss Faith, may I have a glass of water?—What they want to do with me, Miss Danforth, is a little uncertain."
"Well," said Miss Danforth, "I think you'll be able to prevent them!"
He rose to take the glass from Faith's hand, and then merely inquiring whether the ladies were coming to second him, left the room.
Parson Somers was a young-looking, good-looking, affable gentleman, who pressed the ladies' hands very cordially and was very happy to see them. Squire Deacon was younger, and likewise good looking, but affability he had never been charged with. Over the handsome cut of face, the strong well-built figure, he wore a manner as rough as a bear's great-coat; only at some times and for some people the roughness was brushed down. It never would stay, any more than the various elegant phrases with which Deacon sometimes seasoned his speech, would take root there and spread.
"Quite an agreeable variation," said Mr. Somers,—"ha—in such a place as Pattaquasset—to have a new arrival among us. Mr. Linden—I hope you will like our little town. You have a pleasant experience of us to begin with."
"Yes but, Parson, don't make him think we're all like some," said
Squire Deacon,—and as he turned towards Faith the beaming of his face
seemed almost reflected in his brass buttons. "Dreadful gloomy morning,
Miss Faith!"
"Mr. Linden has probably seen too much of the world," said Mr. Somers,—"not to know that—ha!—too great a preponderance of good is not to be looked for."
"May as well look for as much as you can find," said Miss Danforth. "A good deal's lost by not looking for it."
"Ah," said the Squire, with another glance at Faith, "it's not so hard to find things, neither, Miss Danforth. You remember Sinbad the sailor lookin' down into the vale of diamonds?"