"And what, sir?" she said with the gentle intonation of one to whose ear every word is pleasant.
"How much time have you in the course of the day that can and ought to be spent upon all these matters—without disturbing Shakspeare and his companions?"
"I will make time, Mr. Linden, if I don't find it. I have a good deal. You won't tire me."
"You must not make time out of strength. Will you write me a French exercise every day, among other things? Yes Cindy," he said—"I understand,"—apparently quite aware that Faith did not.
"I will try," said Faith, with a colour again that was not of French growth.
"Well baint you comin'?" said Cindy, who stood still as if she liked the prospect before her.
"Yes, but I can find my own way," said Mr. Linden; at which gentle hint
Cindy vanished. And Faith sprang up.
"Teaching all day," she said, "and no tea either!"—And she was about to run off, then paused to say,
"That is all, Mr. Linden?—do you want to say anything more?"
"It was not tea, Miss Faith,—Reuben is at the door. Will you see him?
Shall I bring him here or will you go there?"