"How is what, sir?"
"How come you to change the proper characteristics of mignonette? Don't you know that never shews high brilliancy?"
"I suppose I am not mignonette to-night," said Faith, returning to the safer observation of the tea-table.
"Are you my flower, then? the Rhodora?" he said with a lowered tone, coming near her.
If Faith heard, she did not seem to hear this question. Her attention was bestowed upon the preparations for tea, till Mrs. Derrick came in to make it; and then Faith found a great deal to do in the care of the other duties of the table. It was a mystery, how she managed it; she who generally had as much leisure at meals as anybody wanted. Dr. Harrison's attention however was no longer exclusively given to her.
"Do you always have these muffins for tea, Mrs. Derrick?" he remarked with his second essay.
"Why no!" said Mrs. Derrick,—"we have all sorts of other things. Don't you like muffins, doctor?"
"Like them!" said the doctor. "I am thinking what a happy man Mr.
Linden must be."
"Marvellously true!" said Mr. Linden. "I hope you'll go home and write a new 'Search after happiness,' ending it sentimentally in muffins."
"Not so," said the doctor. "I should only begin it in muffins—as I am doing. But my remark after all had a point;—for I was thinking of the possibility of detaching anybody from such a periodical attraction. Mrs. Derrick, I am the bearer of an humble message to you from my sister and father—who covet the honour and pleasure of your presence to-morrow evening. Sophy makes me useful, when she can. I hope you will give me a gracious answer—for yourself and Miss Faith, and so make me useful again. It is a rare chance! I am not often good for anything."