"Reuben's a good boy!" she said, feeling that remark to be perfectly safe.
"I'm glad he's there," Faith answered gravely. "I heard all Dr.
Harrison said, mother."
"Yes child," said her mother—as if she knew that before,—"I thought you'd see Reuben too."
"Reuben said the same, mother. And Mr. Linden himself sent word there was no cause to be anxious."
Faith did not say he had written that word to her. Perhaps her own consciousness might have made her shy of the subject—or perhaps what she judged to be people's false reports had left a sore spot in her heart and she was afraid of touching that. But she did not speak of the little note which had come to her. She was preparing her mother's tea with all speed, while Mrs. Derrick on her part peeped into the sugar-bowl to see if it wanted filling, and began to cut the bread.
"I'm glad to hear it, child," she said. "Dr. Harrison's too smart for me—I can't get a bit of good out of him. My, Faith! I suppose Mr. Linden can manage him, but if I had that man buzzing round me, I shouldn't know whether I was sick or well. When is he coming back, child?"
"I don't know, mother."—Then with the invincible instinct of truth, she added, "He wants my work to be ready for him Monday."
"Reuben's got a great deal of gumption!" said Mrs. Derrick, her heart quite expanding with the pleasure of hearing Faith talk once more. "Now half the boys in town would have blurted that right out to me and Dr. Harrison together,—and I wouldn't trust him for not asking questions. But I'm sure I'm glad, child—it seems as if he'd been gone a month. Do you think he'll come to morrow? Maybe he meant you should send your work down to him."
"I sha'n't do that," said Faith, as she gave her mother at last a cup of tea that was to be drunk. But she had poured out none for herself. She sat before the tea-tray, still and pale. Her mother looked at her.
"You must take some, child."