"Why I meant her flowers!" said Sam,—"you needn't all laugh so. I don't mean either that I didn't mean—" but what more he meant Sam left unsaid, which did not much stay the laughter.
"I will appoint two or three boys to play the part of the pigeon in hawking," said Mr. Linden,—"Miss Faith might get tired of being caught, if not of running away."
"How do you know that, Mr. Linden?" she said a little archly.
"Truly," he answered, "I know it not—but most things are possible, even in blind man's buff. And all boys are not provided with silk gloves. But you shall not complain of not being caught—I promise you that."
"Again!" she said with another soft flash of her eye, though now she coloured. "Don't you understand, Mr. Linden, that I don't intend to let anybody catch me?—if I can help it."
"Miss Faith, I have the most entire confidence in your intentions!"
Faith kept her energies for action, and said no more. And in a very harmonious temper the whole party left the dinner table and went back to the fire-lit parlour. All but Sam, who went to be ready for his particular guests in another room.
His place was presently supplied by a new-comer. There was a step in the hall—then the parlour door opened, and a little lady with a shawl round her shoulders, came in.
"Good evening!" she said in a very cheery voice. "Why I didn't expect to find so many of you! Is it a party, Mrs. Stoutenburgh,—and shall I go away? or will you let me come in, now I've got here?"
"Come in, come in, Miss Essie, and make it a party," said the Squire; while Mrs. Stoutenburgh took off the shawl and answered,