Faith. And
then Faith was left to the calm companionship of her cowslips till
Reuben came back from the post-office.

He came up to Faith's chair, and taking out the letter broke the outer
seal, (a ceremony he generally performed in her presence) and was just
removing the envelope when the doctor came in for his evening visit.
The doctor saw a tableau,--Faith, the cowslips, and Reuben,--Mrs.
Derrick by the window he hardly saw, nor what the others were about.
But that he had interrupted _something_ was clear--the very atmosphere
of the room was startled; and though Reuben's position hid both letter
and hands, it was certain the hands were busy. What was in them, and
what became of it, the doctor could not tell. Before he was fairly in
the room the letter had retreated to Reuben's pocket, and Reuben
stepped back and stood behind Faith's chair.

The doctor laid a hand on his shoulder with a "How do you do" as he
passed; and accosted Faith with all the free kindliness which his
office of physician permitted him to add to the friend. The doctor took
all his advantage; he did not take more; and not Faith herself could
see that there was any warmer feeling behind his pleasant and pleased
eye and smile. But it is true Faith was a simpleton. She did not see
that his pleasantness covered keen scrutiny. The scrutiny found nothing.

"How do you do?" he said.

"I don't suppose I need say a word to tell you," Faith answered
smiling. "I am well enough to enjoy cowslips."

The doctor's eye fell slightingly upon them, which was not wonderful.

"I think you must be very well!" he said with some trifle of addenda
from lip and eye. "You see you are mistaken. I shouldn't have known how
well, except from your words."

"_You_ are mistaken now, Dr. Harrison," said Faith in the slow quiet
way in which she spoke to-day. "You think these are not splendid--but
they are bits of spring!"

"They are not Spring's best bits, I hope," said the doctor.

"What do you think of that?"

The doctor took the rosebud and looked at it.

"If I were to tell you what I think of it," he said with a sort of
grave candour, "you would dismiss me, and I should come here no more!"

"Reuben brought me that, Dr. Harrison, from the little lame girl you
sent the rosebush to, in the winter. I wish you knew how much good that
rosebush has done!"

"I sometimes wish," said the doctor, "that I had been born in a
cottage!"

"Why, in the world?"

"It would be