"It must be done at that place where you were with your sister?"
"Yes, little Mignonette, it must be done there."
"And when must you begin the work, Endecott?" If the words cost her some effort, it only just appeared.
"I came for a year, dear Faith—and I ought not to stay much beyond that."
Faith mentally counted the months, in haste, with a pang; but the silence did not last long this time. Her head left its resting place and bending forward she looked up into Mr. Linden's face, with a sunny clear look that met his full. It was not a look that could by any means be mistaken to indicate a want of other feeling, however. One might as soon judge from the sunshine gilding on the slope of a mountain that the mountain is made of tinsel.
"Endecott—is that what has been the matter with you?"
She needed no answer but his look, though that was a clear as her own.
"I could easier bear it if I could bear the whole," he said. "But you can understand that Dr. Harrison's proposal tried, though it did not tempt me."
She scarce gave a thought to that.
"There is one thing more I wanted to ask. Will there be—" she paused, and went on,—"no time at all that you can be here?"