It may be remarked in passing that the face was not lost upon the one who did see it. Mrs. Derrick came and stooped down by Faith and her basket in great admiration and joy and silence for a moment—the sight almost put everything else out of her head; but then she exclaimed, "Child, the doctor's coming!—I saw him driving up to the door."
Faith put the cover on the basket, and while Mrs. Derrick set it out of sight, she received the doctor as yesterday, standing. But with a nice little colour in her cheeks to-day, in place of yesterday's sad want of it. Dr. Harrison came up with one hand full of a most rare and elegant bunch of hothouse flowers.
"My amends-making—" he said as he presented it.
It was not in Faith's nature not to look pleasure and admiration at such bits of kindred nature. They were very exquisite, they were some of them new to her, they were all most lovely, and Faith's eyes looked love at them. Dr. Harrison was satisfied, for in those eyes there was to-day no shadow at all. Their gravity he was accustomed to, and thought he liked.
"How do you do?" he said.
"I am—a great deal better. O mother—may I have a glass of water for these?"
"You said yesterday you were well, Miss Faith."
"You saw I wasn't," said Faith as she put her flowers in the glass.
"That is very true. And I see also that your statement to-day is not of much juster correctness. How came you to say that?"
"I said, it without knowing—what I said," Faith answered simply. "What is this, Dr. Harrison?"