were caught and held by the wonderful constellation
above in the clear sky, yet not drawn away from what they had been
talking of, Mr. Linden said,--

"'Seek him that maketh the seven stars and Orion,--that bringeth the
shadow of death upon the day, and turneth the night into morning!'" And
so, in the thought of that, they went home; Orion looking down upon
them, and they leaving bits of brightness by the way at the two or
three houses which yet remained. The box sleigh got home at last
emptied of all its load but the two travellers.

Mrs. Derrick and supper were ready for them, and had been a good while;
and by this time Mr. Linden and Faith were ready for supper. And much
as Mrs. Derrick had to hear, she had something to tell. How Judge
Harrison had come to make a visit and say good-bye, and how he had put
in her hands another twenty-five dollars to be added to those his son
had already bestowed on Reuben. Squire Stoutenburgh too had been there;
but his errand was to declare that Jerry could never be received again
into his service, but must henceforth remain in Mrs. Derrick's stable
and possession. Altogether, the day even at home had been an exciting
one.

A little time after supper Faith went into the sitting-room. Mr. Linden
was there alone. Faith came up to the back of his chair, laid a hand on
his shoulder, and bent her head into speaking neighbourhood. It may be
remarked, that though Faith no longer said "Mr. Linden," yet that one
other word of his name was _never_ spoken just like her other words.
There was always a little lowering or alteration of tone, a slight
pause before--or after it, which set and marked it as bordered round
with all the regards which by any phrase could be made known.

"Endecott"--she said very softly,--"do you know what you have been
doing to-day?"

"Comprehensively speaking--I have been enjoying myself," he said with a
bright smile at her.

"You have been giving me a lesson all the while, that I felt through
and through."

"Through and through?" he repeated. "Come round here, little bird--you
need not perch on the back of my chair. What are you singing about?"

"Of what you have taught me to-day."

"I must have fallen into a very unconscious habit of lesson-giving.
What have I taught you?--suppose you teach me."

"How one should 'hold forth the word of life.'"

"Ah little bird!"--he said, with a look at her which said his day's
lesson had been the same, yet on different