"Why not?"
"You must keep quiet."
"For how long?"
"It depends. There is a little enemy of fever hanging about your skirts, that I will oppose with something else; but all you can oppose to him is quietness."
Faith thought of the words—"The rock of my defence and my refuse"—what quietness was like that of their giving; but she said nothing to the doctor.
Dr. Harrison gave Mrs. Derrick her directions on various points; then taking his old-fashioned stand on the rug, surveyed the easy-chair and its occupant and Reuben still behind it.
"By the way, Mrs. Derrick," said he carelessly,—"I have heard a pretty story of your friend Mr. Linden." He noticed, but only that Faith had glanced at him and was to all appearance quietly looking down at her cowslips.
"I dare say, doctor," said Mrs. Derrick placidly. "I've heard a great many."
"Have you heard it?"
"Heard what?" said Mrs. Derrick. "It's an old pretty story that everybody loves him."