; but as he unfolded it, there
appeared another--unopened, unread; its dainty seal unbroken, and on
the back in fair tracery, the words, "Miss Faith Derrick." As Faith
read them and saw the hand, her eye glanced first up at Mr. Linden with
its mute burden of surprise, and then the roses bloomed out over her
cheeks and even threw their flush upon her brow. Her eye was cast down
now and fixed on the unopened letter, with the softest fall of its
eyelid.

"Shall I read you a part of mine first?"

"If you please. I wish you would."

"Only a little bit," he said smiling--thinking perhaps that she did not
know to what she gave her assent so readily,--"you shall read the whole
of it another time." The "little bit" began rather abruptly.

"'I have written to your darling, Endy--Not much, tell her; because
what I have in my heart for her cannot be told. I know how precious any
one must be whom you love so much. But make her love me a little before
she reads my letter--and don't let her call me anything but Pet--and
then I shall feel as if I had a sister already. And so I have, as you
say. What a glad word!--I could cry again with the very writing of it.

'Endy--I did cry a little over your letter, but only for joy: if it had
been for sorrow I should have cried long ago; for I knew well enough
what was coming. Only I want more than ever to be at home,--and to see
you, and to see Faith--don't let her think I am like you!

'My letter wouldn't hold much, as I told you. But I give you any number
of (unspeakable!) messages for her, John Endy. I suppose you will take
charge of them? I may feel sure they have all reached their
destination?'"

Long before the reading was finished, Faith's head had sunk--almost to
the cushions beside her. The reader's voice and intonation had given
every word a sort of ring in her heart, though the tone was low. One
hand came round her when she put her head down, taking possession of
her hand which lay so still, with the unopened letter in its clasp. But
now she was gently raised up.

"Precious child," Mr. Linden said, "what are you drooping your head
for?"

"For the same reason she had, I suppose,--" said Faith half laughing,
though witnesses of another kind were in her eyes.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Your sister."

"Why don't you begin to practise your lesson?"

Perhaps Faith thought that she _was_. She looked at nothing but her
letter.

"Will you wait for your messages t