"But it's true, Mr. Linden! I was a little afraid to ask what I wasn't sure you would like—that was all."
"Well," he said with a reassuring smile, as he got up and took hold of both her hands and brought her out of position, "I am not much hurt yet—but I desire that the fear may not increase. And therefore, Miss Faith, I want to have you sit here in the firelight, so that I can keep watch of it."
She smiled, as if it were beyond his ken now, but her words went to another point.
"What time would you like, Mr. Linden?"
"Whatever suits you."
She was silent for a minute or two, with a very happy face, till the door opened. Then she sprang up and received and placed the tea and things which Cindy had brought in. There was a dainty supply to-night, perhaps in consideration of Mr. Linden's first day of out-door work, and in delicate sympathy and reward thereof. And Faith, in her happiest mood though as quiet as a mouse, was an excellent 'ministering spirit' of the tea-table; to-night particularly, for every sense and affection seemed to be on the alert.
"How do you find all the boys, after their month out of school, Mr.
Linden?" she said, when waffles and cups of tea were fairly under weigh.
"Very glad to see me—very much afraid I should tire myself; and some a little afraid they might share the fatigue. So things correct each other!—if they had not shewed the last fear, I might have felt the first."
"How did that work?" said Faith laughing a little.
"It worked—" said Mr. Linden. "Is that intelligible, Miss Faith?"