"But suppose some of the fighting should come upon you?"
"That is a supposition I have just refused to take up," said Mr.
Linden, stepping towards the table and bringing a bunch of grapes to
Faith's plate.
"Yes, but everybody hasn't the patience of Job," said Mrs. Somers.
"Julius, for instance."
"He has at least his own ways of obtaining information," said Mr. Linden, and Faith felt the slight change of voice. "Miss Essie, what will you have?"
"Has the doctor any forfeits to pay?" was the somewhat irrelevant answer. "I should so like to see you two set against each other! Dr. Harrison!—have you any forfeits?"
"No," said the doctor;—"but as severe service to perform as if I had.
Linden, we shall want your help—it's too much for one man."
Faith edged away behind this growing knot of talkers, and presently was deeply engaged in conversation with Miss Cecilia Deacon, at a table in the corner, and alternating her attention between grapes and words. Then Squire Stoutenburgh walked softly up and stood behind Faith's chair.
"My dear, will you have anything more?"
"No, sir, thank you."
"Then I am going to carry you off!" said the Squire,—"if I wait a quarter of a second more I shall lose my chance. Come!"