"But how are we to know—how am I to know," said Faith, "what I ought to do?"
"Study Christ's summing up of the ten commandments,—does not that cover the whole ground? And then—do every little duty as it comes to hand. If we are truly ready to do God's will, he will send us work,—or if not—
'They also serve, who only stand and wait.'"
Faith looked an earnest, wistful, sorrowful look at him.
"But then," she said,—"I don't do anything well—how can I know that I am right? You know what you said—of the two roads only one led to the shore. I keep thinking of that—ever since."
"A traveller in the right road," said Mr. Linden, "may walk with very weak and unsteady pace,—yet he knows which way his face is set. Which way is yours?"
Faith's face was in her hands. But Mrs. Derrick's step just then sounding at the front door, she sprang away before it could reach the parlour.
CHAPTER VIII.
The decision of Mr. Linden on the school question was duly communicated to Judge Harrison; and the time fixed was Thursday, the fifth of October. The place chosen, after much care, was the Judge's own house and grounds adjoining, which were spacious enough, and afforded good opportunity for setting tables and also for spreading them. So all that was fixed; and all Pattaquasset was a tip-toe; and Mr. Linden submitted to what he could not help, with as good a grace as he might. And September was sliding off into October with the gentlest, sunniest, softliest grace.
With much the same sort of grace Faith Derrick walked up and down in her mother's household; from the dairy where she made her butter, to Mr. Linden's room which it was her care to keep in order; and where she might if she chose amuse herself with Mr. Linden's books. If she did, it was unknown to their owner; he surely found every volume lying where he left it. There was chance enough for Faith, in his long absences from the house; and the books offered temptations. There were a good many of them, stowed in old-fashioned corner and window cupboards; good editions, in good bindings, and an excellent very choice selection of subjects and authors. There were books in various languages of which Faith could make nothing—but sighs; in her own mother tongue there were varieties of learning and literature enough to distract her. All however that the owner could know of other hands about his books, was that there was no dust upon them.