he roses
blushing over all. It fascinated the gentlemen, every one of them. They
found that the little demure piece of gravity could talk; and talk with
a truth and freshness of thought too, which was like the rest of her,
uncommon and interesting, soft and free, at once. Faith went off to
dinner on the arm of one of her maligners, and was very busy with
company all the evening after, having little to do with Mr. Linden.

She had escaped to her room earlier than he, however; and when he came
in she was sitting thoughtfully before the open window. She rose up
directly, and came to him, with the usual smile, and with a little
hidden triumph dancing in her eyes, and an odd wistful look besides of
affection and humility. She only came close to him for a caress,
without speaking. Mr. Linden took her face in both hands and looked at
it--a beautiful smile mingling with the somewhat moved look of his own.

"What a child you are!"

The colour rushed all over Faith's cheeks.

"Why?--" she whispered. The answer to which, cheeks and brow, and lips,
might spell out as best they could.

"Do you know why I did not come with your flowers,
Mignonette?"--"Before dinner?--no. I got some for myself."

"I was on my way for them, and was entrapped and held fast. My little
Mignonette! I never thought to have you put your hand to your cheek in
that way again!"

"Again, Endecott! Who told you?" said Faith, as usual jumping to
conclusions.

"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."

Faith looked a little troubled: she