"Am I?" said Faith with a quick change. "There's nothing the matter?"
"Nothing bad," said the Squire. "At least I hope not! Will you go home with me this afternoon?"
"O yes, sir—and very glad! But did mother send for me?"
"Sent for you if I could get you, Miss Faith. I don't suppose she'll ever really interfere with your doings—if you choose to go and live in the Moon, but she's half sick for the sight of you. That's prevalent just now," said the Squire, "and she's not the worst case. The doctor went off for fear he should take it;—but some people have duties, you know, and can't stir."
There was a tiny peachblossom tinge on Faith's cheek, which the Squire was pleased to take note of. She stood with a thoughtful face the while.
"I'll be ready, Mr. Stoutenburgh. When will you come for me?"
The time was fixed, and Faith made her explanations to her friends; promising that if need were she would some back again, or her mother, after Christmas. Miss Dilly let her go very willingly, yet most unwillingly; and Madame Danforth's reluctance had nothing to balance it. So it was that Faith's joy had its wonted mixture of gravity when she met the Squire again.
"If you're not going to be glad to get home, I'm a rich man if I'll go in with you!" he said as he put her in the sleigh and tucked her up with shawls and buffalo robes. "That's the way!—first get power and then abuse it."
"Power! Mr. Stoutenburgh. What do you mean? I am very glad to go home.
Don't I look so?" She certainly did.
"I mean that I haven't seen anybody smile since you went away," said
Mr. Stoutenburgh, proceeding to tuck himself up in like manner. "Except
Dr. Harrison. He kept himself in practice while he staid."