But Faith went at her cakes and finished the few that were left.
"I think you must be very much in want of your breakfast," she said coming to the fire. "You have played Prince Ferdinand—do you think you would mind acting the part of King Alfred, for once?"
"My dear, I will play any part for you whatever!—in our duet. Shall I practise taking off the kettle to begin with?"
"I don't think you had better,"—Faith said with a kept down laugh,—"for it doesn't boil."
"Shall I take you off then? What are you going to do while I play
Alfred?—I will not answer for my solo performances."
"I shall not be gone but a few minutes. Do you think you could take this little skillet from the fire if it did—boil?"
Mr. Linden might have got into a reverie after she ran away;—but certain it is that the skillet was in imminent danger of "boiling over" when Faith appeared at his side and with a laughing look at him gently lifted it off.
"You are an excellent Alfred!"
"What version of Alfred have you learned?" he said laughing, and catching it from her hand before it reached the hearth. "I thought hot water was his reward—not his work."
"I thought, Endy, you would like to go up to your room before breakfast. Mother will be down presently."