"That sounds reasonable," said Mr. Linden. "I like to be laughed at. But Miss Faith—just suppose for a moment that there were tears in your eyes,—what could keep them from falling?"
Faith's eyes opened and she took a little time to consider this proposition.
"If I were very determined, I think I could do it," she said.
"Suppose they got so far as the tip ends of your eye lashes?" he said, with a little play of the lips.
"They must come down, I am afraid," said Faith looking and wondering.
"But why?"
"Because my determination couldn't reach them there, I suppose," she said in unmitigated wonder. "There would be nothing to keep them up."
"Unphilosophic!" he said gravely,—"I shall have to teach you both why your tears fall, and why they don't."
She smiled, as very willing to be taught, but with a face that looked as if it had had few to experiment upon either way.
"I will try and not tire you out," Mr. Linden said, "but different things go on pleasantly together. Some I should like to have you study for me when I am away, some directly with me. And—"