"Nor my sense don't," said Faith,—"that I know of,—but it feels as if it hadn't possession of itself, Mr. Linden."
"Well see if it is equal to this demand—What would be the consequences if you and I were to start off and scour the country 'on our own hook,' as people say?"
"I think 'our hook' would draw two people after us," said Faith, looking very much amused and a little afraid of being overheard.
"That is a melancholy fact! And my self-indulgence needs to be kept in check. Miss Faith," he said dropping his voice still more, "Stranger regrets very much that he must now go through that figure of the cotillion called 'Ladies change'!" And with a low and laughing bow, Mr. Linden reined back his horse and returned to his former place with all the soberness that circumstances allowed.
There was no soberness whatever in the face with which Faith recommenced her tête-à-tête with Miss Harrison. The doctor was perfectly in order.
"I have been thinking," he said, "since my question of how the world went with you, what a very insignificant thing, as to extent, 'the world' of any one person is."
"Compared with the universe," said Mr. Linden.
"What sort of a world have you got into?" said Dr. Harrison somewhat impatiently. "No—the actual extent of your and my consciousness—of that field of action and perception which we magnificently call our world! What a mighty limited field it is!"
"I think you describe it correctly," said Mr. Linden: "it is both mighty and limited. A little space railed off for every man—and yet larger than that man can ever fill."
"It seems to me too insignificant to be worth filling."