"Be content with the old study hours, my dear child. They are long enough, and many enough."
"Oh Endy!—not for me."
"For thee."
Faith looked down and looked disturbed.
"Then, Endecott, I sha'n't be as wise as I want to be,—nor as you want to have me."
"Then you will be just as wise as I want you to be," he said with a smile. "As to the rest, pretty child,—do you mean that my wife shall deprive me of my scholar?"
Faith turned away and said rather quickly, "Endy, how did you know?"
"From some lesson evidence. And I always hear you come down—and whiles
I see a face at breakfast which has not lately come from rest."
Faith's secret thought was that it was better than rest. But after folding her hands with a grave face, she looked up at Mr. Linden with a smile which yielded the whole question.
"To prove to you what a naughty child you have been," said Mr. Linden, "I shall give you an increase of outdoor lessons, and take you off on an expedition the first mild day. On which occasion you may study me—if you have any of Miss Essie's curiosity."