The light brightened and deepened—her colour flushed like a morning sky,—till at last the first sunbeam struck athwart her face, in the shape of a smile. It was not a lip smile—it was on eye and brow and lip and cheek together. Mr. Linden bent down by her, lifting her face to meet his eyes, which through all their intentness smiled too.
"Faith, I want to hear every word of that."
"Of what?"
"Of all that is in your mind and face just now."
Her two little answering sentences evidently only gave the key of very deep tones.
"I think it is good, Endy. I am glad."
"I thought you would be. But that does not satisfy me, dear Faith—I want you to say to me all the different things that your thoughts were saying to you. You are not afraid of me at this time of day?" he said bringing her face closer.
"I have nothing to say I need be afraid to say," Faith answered slowly,—"but it is hard to disentangle so many thoughts. I was thinking it is such great and high work—such happy work—and such honour—and then that you will do it right, Endecott—" she hesitated.—"How could I help but be glad?"
"Do you like your new prospective position, little Sunbeam?"
A deep colour came over her face, and the eyes fell Yet Faith folded her hands and spoke.