"I don't think you are particularly patient,"—said Faith demurely,—"except when you choose. Oh Endy!—"
That last note had the true ring of joy. Her forehead touched his shoulder again; the rest of her sentence was unspoken.
"I do not choose, to-day. Mignonette, therefore tell me—do you think I have had all I am fairly entitled to?"
She flushed all over, but lifted up her head and kissed him. Mr. Linden watched her, smiling then though she might not see it.
"My little beauty," he said, "you have grown afraid of me—do you know that?"
"Not very—" she said. Certainly Faith was not good at defending herself.
"No, not very. Just enough to give us both something to do. Mignonette, are you ready for me?"
Faith's face was bowed again almost out of sight. "Don't you think," she half whispered, "that Pet must be ready to see you, by this time?"
For all answer—except a smile—she was led across the room to a seat near the window. But just there, was the table and its muslin dress! Mr. Linden stopped short, and Faith felt and understood the clasp of his arm about her waist, of his hand upon hers. But he only said laughingly, "Faith, was that what made you hide away?"
"Pet hid me," Faith said very much abashed;—"not I. She let fall the curtain."