"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mr. Linden's voice, while the speaker laid both hands on the boy's shoulders, "what are you about?"
"Miss Faith said I might go as far as the wagon with her, sir," said
Sam looking down.
"The wagon is not here," said Mr. Linden,—"Mr. Skip is probably asleep."
"Then I may see you home, Miss Faith?" was the joyous comment.
"Sam Stoutenburgh!" said Mr. Linden again, preventing Faith's reply, and giving Sam a gentle shake. "Isn't one favour a day enough for you?" he added presently.
"No sir!" said Sam boldly.
"I suppose I must give way before a blue ribband," said Mr. Linden smiling, yet as if he was much inclined to lift Sam out of the way. "Miss Faith, the matter is in your hands."
But Faith did not smile, and looked, or was it his fancy?—ever so little careworn.
"What matter, Mr. Linden?" she said simply.
"Whether you will take charge of this boy as far as his father's gate.
I will try and take care of you, after that."