"I will."
"If that don't do, I s'pose nothing will," said Mr. Simlins. "They're mighty words! And they've stopped my mouth."
Faith was silently marking the places. The farmer sat looking at her.
"You do know the Scripturs—I can say that for you!" he remarked.
"No, Mr. Simlins!—" said Faith looking up suddenly, "I don't know this string of passages of myself. Mr. Linden shewed them to me," she said more softly and blushing. She went on with what she was about.
"Well don't he say you like to speak truth rayther than anything else?" said the farmer. "If he don't, I wouldn't give much for his discretion. When's he going to have leave to take you away, Faith?" It was half sorrowfully spoken, and though Faith rose up and blushed, she did not answer him quickly.
"My business must take me away now, sir;—good night."
But Mr. Simlins shouted to Jem Waters, had the wagon up, put Faith in with infinite care and tenderness, and sent her home so.
One rainy, stormy, wild equinoctial day in the end of September—not long after that letter had come, Squire Stoutenburgh came to the door. Faith heard him parleying with her mother for a minute—heard him go off, and then Mrs. Derrick entered the sitting-room, with her eyes full of tears and her heart, at least, full of a little package,—it did not quite fill her hands.
"Pretty child!" she said, "I'm so thankful!"—and she went straight off to the kitchen, and the little package lay in Faith's lap. The thick brown paper and wax and twine said it had come a long way. The rest the address told. It was a little square box, the opening of which revealed at first only soft cotton; except, in one corner, there was an indication of Faith's infallible blue ribband. Fastened to that, was a gold locket. Quite plain, alike on both sides, the tiny hinge at one edge spoke of a corresponding spring. That touched, Faith found Mr. Linden. Admirably well done and like, even to the expression, which had probably struck the artist's fancy; for he had contrived to represent well both the pleasure and the pain Mr. Linden had felt in sitting for this picture, for such a reason. The dress was that of the German students—such as he was then wearing.