"Yes—every evening, if you like,—if we are to follow Göthe's rule.
Just before tea is a good time, don't you think so?"
"Yes indeed!" said Faith, whose colour rose from pure pleasure, as her thought went back to L'Allegro and Il Penseroso. "I don't think there is any time pleasanter for it. But they're all pleasant—I've dropped my whip, Mr. Linden!"—
"I will get it for you," he said checking his horse, "if you will promise not to run away! I am afraid of your 'enterprising' spirit, Miss Faith."
But her look at him was a little touched and deprecating. They turned their horses together and went back a few steps. There was no trouble in finding the whip, for just where it had been dropped, a boy stood holding it on high for Faith's acceptance The boy was Phil Davids.
"Thank you, Phil!" said Faith, surprised and grateful.
"I see it go out of your hand," said Phil.
"Yes," said. Mr. Linden—whose smile and word of thanks had accompanied Faith's,—"Phil has singularly quick eyes. They have done me good service before."
As they turned again, Farmer Davids stood at their horses' heads. They were just at the farmer's door, and he so entreated them to come 'in and rest,' that there was no refusing his hospitality. It was large, and various—Pumpkin pies and cider, and much pouring forth of gratitude and admiration for Mr. Linden's success with Phil.
"What have you done to that fellow?" his father remarked admiringly to Mr. Linden. "You never see such an alteration in a boy. He used—oncet—to talk hard words agin you, sir;—you won't mind hearing it now; but he's come all about, and lately there's nothing to Phil's mind can equal up to Mr. Linden. He don't say much about it, sir, but it's evident. And he's been at me and his mother this fortnight or two, to give him something to make a present to you—the boys do, he says; and he wants the best thing on the farm should go, and so do I, sir, if we knowed oncet what would be most favourable. It would be a kindness, sir, as I should be grateful for,—if you'd say what would do you most service or be most pleasure—of anything that is on the farm;—fruit or vegetables or dairy. We're plain folks, sir; I say what I mean. Take some pie, Mr. Linden!—some cider, sir?"
Answering these various questions and demands as best he might, Mr. Linden contrived to convince Mr. Davids that Phil himself was the thing "on the farm" that he cared most about; and his goodwill, better than any special manifestation thereof; giving at the same time full and grateful thanks for the other things that had come to him when he was ill.