"It might be, Miss Faith. Indeed I think it is now!"
"What would you like them to be about, Mr. Linden? and I'll try."
"Nay, you may choose: sense is of universal application."
"If I should say what was uppermost," said Faith, "it would be, How very pleasant what we are doing now, is!"
"Which part?"
"Both parts!—Every part! One makes the other more pleasant." And
Faith's happy face looked so.
"Very sensible words!" said Mr. Linden smiling. "I agree to them perfectly,—which is, you know, in every mind, the great test of sense. The picture, Miss Faith, we have before us."
"Yes,—isn't it lovely to-day, Mr. Linden? and hasn't it been lovely ever since we set out? Except that broken harness—and I don't think that has hurt anything, either."
"No, I am not sure that even the harness was much the worse. And 'it' has been very lovely. As for the poem, Miss Faith, you cannot be trusted with that—and must resign yourself to hearing it read. What shall it be?"
"I don't know," said Faith. "I know hardly any poetry, Mr. Linden, except what I have heard you read. Will you read some, perhaps, this evening?"