"Do you see how much good the Sunbeam has done him, Mr. Olyphant?" said Pet.—"I see it, Miss Pet; it does me good. I meant to have been here to see you married, Endecott, and missed the train. I shall miss it again, now, if I am not careful. But you must come up and stay with us, and we'll arrange matters. Such neighbours may tempt me to winter in the mountains myself, and then I shall take charge of you, Miss Pet."
"I should like that," said Pet.
"I see, my dear Mrs. Linden," said Mr. Olyphant, smiling at her, "I see you follow one of the old Jewish laws."
"What is that, sir?"—"You know it was required of the Jews that they should bear the words of the law 'as frontlets between the eyes'. Now—if you will forgive me for saying so—in your eyes is written one of the proverbs."
"Look up, Mignonette, and let me see," said Mr. Linden. But oddly,
Faith looked down first; then the eyes were lifted.
"Is truth a proverb?" said Pet laughing.—"O you see too many things there!" said Mr. Olyphant,—"this is what I see, Endecott—'The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her.'"
A little veil of shyness and modesty suddenly fell around Faith. Even her head drooped. But Mr. Linden's lips touched the fair brow between those very fair eyes.
"I cannot praise your discernment, sir," he said. "It is not more true than evident."
"I cannot half congratulate either of you," said Mr. Olyphant, smiling, "so I'll go. Good-bye, Miss Pet—remember next winter. Mrs. Linden, we shall expect to see you long before that time. Let me have a word with you, Endecott." And Faith was again left alone, entirely this time, for Miss Linden went up stairs to attend Mrs. Iredell.
As they turned to go out, Faith turned the other way, and sat down, feeling overwhelmed. Everything was very still. Pet's light steps passed off in the distance; through the open windows came the song of kildeers and robins, the breath of roses, the muslin-veiled sunshine. Then she heard Mr. Olyphant's carriage drive off, and Mr. Linden came back. Faith started up, and very lovely she looked, with the timid grace of those still dyed cheeks and vailed brow.