"Yes, you are strong, little Sunbeam," he said, turning now to her and taking both her hands,—"and yet it is a sort of strength I must guard. Even sunbeams must not be always on duty. But we'll see about it when I come back."
Mr. Linden went off to his other sphere of action, and soon after Reuben came softly in, just to let Faith know that he was at hand if she wanted anything, and to offer to take her place.
"Reuben!" said Faith suddenly, "have you had any dinner?"
"O yes, ma'am—enough," Reuben said with a smile. "I brought something with me this morning."
Faith put her lunch basket into his hand, but her words were cut short; for she saw Dr. Harrison just coming to the house. She moved away and stood gravely by the fire.
The doctor came in pulling off his glove. He gave his hand to Faith with evident pleasure, but with a frank free pleasure, that had nothing embarrassing about the manner of it; except the indication of its depth. After a few words given with as easy an intonation as if the thermometer were not just a few degrees above zero outside where he had come from, the doctor's eye went over to the other person in the room; and then the doctor himself crossed over and offered his hand.
"I shall never see you, Reuben,"—said he with a very pleasant recollective play of eye and lip,—"without thinking of a friend."
The doctor had a more full view of Reuben's eyes, thereupon, than he had ever before been favoured with,—for one moment their clear, true, earnest expression met his. But whatever the boy read—or tried to read—or did not read, he answered simply, as he looked away again,
"You have been that to me, sir."
"I don't know—" said the doctor lightly. "I am afraid not according to your friend. Mr. Linden's definition. But reckon me such a one as I can be, will you?"—He turned away without waiting for the answer and went back to Faith.