The colour started into Faith's cheeks, but she answered. "You are better than I,—and besides,—you know, Endy!—it would be right for you to do what it wouldn't be right for me to do." Her colour deepened to brightness and her eyes were very cast down. Mr. Linden looked at her—smiling a grave sweet smile.
"Faith," he said, "I have heard—or imagined—that a man might have an angel for his wife, but I never heard yet of a woman who had an angel for her husband—did you?"
Faith endeavoured to shield her eyes and cheek with a very insufficient hand. "You put me in the witness-box,—what can I do?" she said.
"You can do one thing as well as anybody I ever saw," Mr. Linden said, taking her hand down. "Faith, where did you get such pink cheeks?"
"What is an Arabic poem?" said Faith gravely.
"A pretty thing that requires translating. Faith, I have a great desire to take you all about Pattaquasset and tell everybody what you are to be."
"Endecott!"—said Faith with a startled glance.
"What?" he answered laughing.
"Why do you say so?"
"Just imagine the delight of all Quapaw, and the full satisfaction of the Roscoms. Shouldn't you like to see it?"