"Melancholy statement!" said Mr. Linden.
"It's of no use to tell it to a man!" said Miss Essie. "But I have seen it."
"Not in my house."
"I shall see it in your house, if you ever let me in there—but it will be too late to warn then. Very likely you will not see it."
Faith sat with one hand shielding her face from this speaker, though by that means it was more fully revealed to the other. Her other hand, and her eyes as far as possible, were lost in the bunch of cowslips; her colour had long ceased to be varying. She sat still as a mouse.
"No, I shall not see it. To what end would your warnings be directed, if they could reach her in time?"
"To keep her from taking such a trying position."
"Oh—" said Mr. Linden. "Have you no feeling for me, Miss Essie? It is very plain why you scrupled to eat salt with me this morning!"
"I'll eat salt with you as a single man," said Miss Essie,—"but if you are going to be a minister, be generous, and let your wife go! Any other woman will tell you so."
"Let her go where? With me?—that is just what I intend."