"O I don't know," said Sam. "It's a while before I've got to do anything yet. But Miss Faith—I mean! since you will go, won't you please take this?" and Sam presented a tiny box containing a pretty gold set cornelian seal, engraved with a spirited Jehu chariot running away! "It'll remind you of a day I shall never forget," said Sam both honestly and sentimentally. If Mr. Linden could have helped Faith answer, he would!
Faith's face was in a quiver, between laughter and very much deeper and stronger feeling; but she shook Sam's hand again gratefully.—"I shall never forget it, Sam, nor what you did for me that day. And I hope you'll come and see me somewhere else, some time."
Then Mr. Linden spoke. "No one can owe you so much for that day's work as I, Sam; and since she is running away again you must do as you did then, and find her."
Sam was somewhat touched and overwhelmed, and went off to talk to
Reuben about Miss Linden's dress. A little while longer and the room
was cleared. The two collegians came last of all to say good-bye,
Reuben lingering behind his friend.
"You know," said Mr. Linden, holding the boy's hand, "you are coming to study with me, Reuben, if I live; we will not call it good-bye. And I shall expect to see you before that in vacation."
"And you know, Reuben," said Faith, very low, "you have been a brother to me this great while."
Reuben looked down, trying for words. Then meeting Faith's eyes as he had done that very first time—what though his own were full—he said, "I am not sorry, ma'am, I am glad: so glad!" he repeated, looking from her face to Mr. Linden's. But his eyes fell then; and hastily clasping the hand she held out to him, he bent his face to Mr. Linden's and turned away. One quick step Mr. Linden took after him, and they left the room arm in arm, after the old fashion.
With Mr. Linden, when he came back, was an oldish gentleman, silver-haired, with a fresh ruddy face; not very tall, very pleasant-looking. Pet's exclamation was of joy, this time, and she ran forward to meet him. Then Mr. Linden brought him up to Faith. "Mignonette, this is my dear friend, Mr. Olyphant." And Mr. Olyphant took both her hands and kissed her on both cheeks, as if he meant to be her friend too: then looked at her without letting go. "Endecott!" he said, turning to Mr. Linden, "whatever you undertake you always do well!" And he shook Faith's hands again, and told her he could wish her joy with a clear conscience.
The timid little smile which this remark procured him, might have confirmed the old gentleman in his first-expressed opinion. Mr. Olyphant studied her a minute, not confusingly, but with a sort of touched kindliness.
"What do you call her, Endecott?" he said.—"Any sweet name I can think of," said Mr. Linden, smiling, "just now, Mignonette." Which remark had a merciless effect upon Faith's cheeks.