Faith appeared to have exhausted her ammunition, for she only answered by hiding her face.
"Faith"—Mr. Linden repeated.
She looked up slowly, blushing all over; and her very doubtful face seemed to negative the whole proceeding. But then an irrepressible little laugh began to play.
"I wouldn't do it," she said unsteadily,—"at least, I don't know that I would—if I hadn't wished so very much to give you something to-day;—and I have nothing else!—"
And nerving herself desperately, Faith laid one hand on Mr. Linden's shoulder and slightly raising herself on her toes, did bestow on his lips as dainty a kiss as ever Santa Claus brought in his box of New Year curiosities. But she was overcome with confusion the moment she had done it, and would have rushed off if that had been possible.
"Let me go"—she said hastily—"let me go!"—
In answer to which, she was held as securely fast as she ever had been in her life. Covering and hiding all of her face that she could, Faith renewed her request, in a comical tone of humility—as if she didn't deserve it.
"I never felt less inclined to let you go!"
"There is all that work to be done," said Faith, by way of possibly useful suggestion.
"Mignonette, will you remember your new lesson?"