"This is—Linden," said that gentleman coolly. "No boys—go off,—I think I can live without seeing either of you again till to-morrow. What's the matter, Dr. Harrison?"
"Just and precisely what I was asking," said the doctor; while Faith glided to her mother and sitting down by her whispered enquiry. But Mrs. Derrick knew nothing—had heard nothing, apparently.
"It's for you to state the case—" said Mr. Linden. "You speak as if you had a warrant of arrest in your pocket."
"Why!" said the doctor, standing and looking down upon him,—"here's a wind that has blown from nowhere! Do you want me to lodge information against yourself?"
"I don't wish to lodge any."
"Linden," said the doctor changing his tone to one of serious kindly interest, while Faith's eyes from her more distant seat waited for the answer,—"what is the matter? What made you faint to-day?"
"What nonsense have those boys been talking?" said Mr. Linden—but his look carried the charge a little beyond the range of his words. "I was faint for awhile—not quite in a 'deadly swoond,' however."
"That young scapegrace said and declared you had fainted."
"They are so used to their own red cheeks, they think red is 'the only colour,'" said Mr. Linden. "However, I believe he spoke true—but it was nothing worth speaking of, after all."
"What was the cause?"