"As little as possible."
"I know,—but what is that, Endy?"—she said with very timid intonation.
"'As little as possible'?" he said, raising his eyes with a laughing look to her face,—"the words hardly need explanation—I might have stayed Mr. Somers this afternoon. It cannot be too soon for me, Mignonette—but I do not know what is possible for you."
What was possible for her! It almost took Faith's breath away. Because she acknowledged Mr. Linden's right to his wish. She was in great confusion, besides.
"I will do what you please!" she said at length. "You may arrange it with mother."
"No, with you," said Mr. Linden,—"what do you please? Am I to repeat the passage of Quapaw creek?"
She looked up and looked at him, and said yes. It was a look any man would have liked to have given him. Not without a little fear of what he might say, those eyes put such a pure faith in him and were so ready to answer his pleasure. She waited for his answer, though her eyes did not.
"You know, dear Faith, I sent you word to be ready for me,—is that done?"
"Yes nearly."
"'Nearly' is soon despatched," said Mr. Linden,—"and this is the month when, 'if ever, come perfect days'—Shall we say a week from to-day?"