ment and looked at him, with grave
eyes of wide-open attention. The look changed Mr. Linden's purpose,--he
could not bear to take away all the pleasure the eagle had brought on
his gold wings.

"I don't believe there is such a book in existence," he said lightly.
"Miranda, what would you like to have me do for you now?--the fire is
ready for anything."

"I haven't anything ready for it yet," said Faith, "but I will have--if
you'll wait a bit."--She left him there, and ran off--coming back in a
little while. And then Mr. Linden was initiated, if he never was
before, in kitchen mysteries. Faith covered herself with a great apron,
rolled up her sleeves above the elbows, and with funny little glances
at him between whiles, went round the room about various pieces of
work. Almost noiselessly, with the utmost nicety of quick and clean
work, she was busy in one thing after another and in two or three at
the same time; while Mr. Linden stood or sat by the fire looking on.
Two things he comprehended; the potatoes which were put over the fire
to boil and the white shortcakes which finally stood cut out on the
board ready for baking. The preliminary flour and cream and mixing in
the bowl had been (culinary) Sanscrit to him. He had watched her
somewhat silently of late, but none the less intently: indeed in all
his watching there had been a silent thread woven in with its laughing
and busy talk,--his eyes had followed her as one follows a veritable
sunbeam, noting the bright gleams of colour here, and the soft light
there, and thinking of the time when it must quit the room.

"Faith," he said as she cut out her cakes, "are these what you made for
me the first night I came here?"

"I believe so!"

"What do you suppose you look like--going about the kitchen in this
style?--you make me think irresistibly of something."

"I should like to know," said Faith with an amused laugh.

"I shall make you blush, if I tell you," said Mr. Linden.

That was enough to do it! Faith gave him one look, and went on with her
shortcakes.

"You don't care about knowing, after all?" said Mr. Linden.
"Well,--Faith, do you expect ever to make such things in my
house?--because if you do, I think it will ensure my coming down stairs
before breakfast."

How she flushed--over cheek and brow,--then remarked gravely that, "she
was glad he liked it."

"Yes, and you have no idea what effects my liking will produce!" said
Mr. Linden. "You see, Faith, i