"You are a brave little child!" he said. "I wish I could do something to give you a great deal of pleasure!"
"Pleasure!"—said Faith, and what was very rare with her, not only her face flushed but her eyes, so that she turned them away,—"why it is all pleasure to me, Mr. Linden!"—'Such pleasure as I never had before,'—she was near saying, but she did not say.
"Well I must not let you tire yourself," he said with a smile, "for that would not be pleasant to me. Have you been out to-day?"
"No," said Faith, thinking of her brown moreen.
"Nor yesterday—that will not do, Miss Faith. I am afraid I must give you up to the open air for a good part of this afternoon."
"What shall I do there?" said Faith smiling.
"Let the wind take you a walk—I wish I could be of the party. But the wind is good company, Miss Faith, and talks better than many people,—and the walk you want."
"So I want to finish my wood-box," said Faith, looking at the corner of the fireplace. "And I should think you would be tired of seeing the wood lie there, Mr. Linden. I am. I have got to go out this evening too—" she said with a little hesitation,—"to see that microscope."
Mr. Linden was silent a moment.
"The microscope does make some difference," he said,—"as for the wood-box, Miss Faith, I don't think I can permit it to have any voice in the matter,—you may leave it for me to finish. But if you are going up there this evening—there are two or three things I should like to talk to you about first."