"I don't want to ride behind, Dr. Harrison," said Faith looking laughingly back at him. "I'll go on in front." Which she did, so briskly that the doctor had to bestir himself to come up with her.
"I didn't know," he said, and he spoke somewhat in earnest,—"I didn't know that you cared anything about eminence or preëminence."
"Didn't you, Dr. Harrison?"
"Do you?"
"I don't know—" said Faith gravely. "Eminence?—yes, I should care very much for that, in some things. Not for preëminence, I think. There's Mr. Simlins!—and I must speak to him." Faith's horse which had been on an easy canter, came to a stand; and so must the doctor. Mr. Simlins too was on horseback.
"Mr. Simlins," said Faith after giving him her hand, "will you have half a day's leisure Monday or Tuesday?"
"Leisure?" said the farmer with his best growl—"no, I sha'n't have it if you take it."
"Do you think I may take it?"
"I don't suppose there's anybody that can hinder you," said Mr. Simlins—"without excepting my own identity. I can't. Do you want to go up yonder again?"
The doctor interposed to make offers of his father's horses, carriage, and servants; but Faith quietly negatived them all.