"Who told me what, my beauty?"
Faith's eye fell in doubt, then looked up searchingly.
"I believe you know everything; but you don't look displeased. How did you know, Endecott?"—"I saw and heard. And have seen and heard since," he added, smiling.
A question or two found out exactly how it had been; and then Faith put the inquiry, simple to quaintness, "Did I do better to-day?"—"If you are so anxious for me—" he said, stroking back her hair. "They did not deserve to have one of my wife's words, but her words were admirable."
It was worth while to see Faith's cheeks.
"Will you trust me to ride with Mr. Middleton to-morrow?" she asked presently, smiling.
"No. Yes—I will trust you but not him."
"Does that mean that you will trust me to go?"—"Not with him."
"But what shall I do?" said Faith, flushing after a different fashion—half laughing too—"I told him I would go, or that I thought I would go."
"Tell him that you think you will not."