"If I seem to you like a microscope."
"Only your eyes, like those power-glasses.—Not for size!" said Faith, laughing now herself.
"Ah little Mignonette," he said smiling, "some things can be seen without microscopic vision. And do not you know, my child, that carnations must draw attention to the particular point round which they bloom?"
"Endy, you shall know what I was thinking of," she said. "You touched it already. It was only—that perhaps sometime you would be a little proud even of those little things in me—because—Now you can punish me for being proud in earnest!"—It was said in great confusion; it had cost Faith a struggle; the white and red both strove in her downcast face. Mr. Linden might not fathom what was not in a man's nature; but Faith had hardly ever perhaps given him such a token of the value she set upon his pleasure.
"Punish you?" he said, leaving Jerry to find the road for himself for a minute,—"how shall I do it?—so? And how much punishment do you require? I think a little is not enough. 'Because' what, love?"
"Endy!—" she said under her breath,—"you know!—don't ask me."
"Then—if I exceed your limits—you will not blame me?"
"Limits of what?"
"Limits of this species of executive justice."
"I don't think you would keep limits of anybody else's setting," said
Faith with a little subdued fun. "Look, Endy!—we are coming to Miss
Bezac's."