"How does the dominie manage to talk to you?" said he, looking at her. "I don't see how he can get on with it."
Faith grew crimson, and grave.
"Well," said the farmer, smiling a bit, "I s'pose I'll have to get it out somehow. You see, Faith, the thing is, in my mind, I want you to have something that'll make you—you and him too—think of Pattaquasset and me once in a while. Now I'm goin' to give you that black heifer. If you can, I hope you'll take her with you whereever you're goin'—if you can't, why you may turn her into cash; but I guess you can. She's a real Simlins—she'll run, if you don't keep a fence round her; but if you treat her right, she'll give you all your dairy'll want for some time to come; and the very plague you'll be at to keep her shut up, will make you think of me."
"Dear Mr. Simlins!" Faith said with her eyes full, "there is no danger about that!"—
"No!" said he rising; "and when you think of me I know you'll do something else for me. Good-bye, till you get back again." Off he went. Other people followed. The room had thinned a little, when Pet left her table in Reuben's charge and came to Faith's corner.
"Poor child," she said, "you must be tired. Faith, I shall defy ceremony, and put you in Aunt Iredell's chair; she is going to lie down. Oh! how did that man get here?—and George Alcott!" Pet faced round upon Faith, folding her hands with an air of dismayed resignation.
"What's the matter, Pet?"—"I thought I was safe here," said Miss
Linden. "Faith, I did not suppose ubiquitous people found their way to
Pattaquasset. You'll have to run the gauntlet of that man's
compliments, child, however, Endy is a pretty good safeguard."
Before Faith could see much of what was going on, Mr. Linden was at her side. "Mrs. Linden—Mr. Motley," was all he said; and Faith found herself face to face with one of those two well-remembered strangers. So well remembered that a slight glance at him was arrested, by what at first she did not recognize, and unconsciously she gave Mr. Motley for a second a look sufficiently like what he had seen before to identify her. That second brought it all back. A blush of most rosy beauty came upon Faith's face, and her eyes fell as if no one was ever to see them again. Mr. Motley's eyes, on the contrary, expanded. But the whistle which rose politely to his lips, was held in polite check—by Mr. Linden's presence or some other consideration—and with no further sign than an under breath "Linden!" Mr. Motley gave the bride his hand, claiming that privilege in easy, musky words, on the score of old acquaintanceship with the bridegroom.
"I trust Mrs. Linden has been well since I last (and first!) had the pleasure of seeing her? Apart from the occasion—it seems to me that she is looking even better than then—though then I should not have believed that possible."
"It is a long time, sir," Faith said gravely.