And it was paid all the year, regularly. But then, Miss Faith----"
there was a pause.

"What, Reuben?" she whispered.

"Then instead of keeping it for himself, he put it all in the bank for
me.--And I never knew it till I opened the letter he gave me when he
was going away."

The brightness of the hidden diamonds danced in Faith's face for a
minute--half hidden too, but it was there.

"Reuben," she whispered, as he was starting up to go,--"what we have to
do is to pray for Dr. Harrison."

"Miss Faith, how do people live who do not pray?"

"I don't know!"

But Faith's voice did not speak the thanksgiving which bounded in her
heart to Reuben's words. She sat back in her chair looking tired, with
her letter clasped fast in her hand. Reuben stepped forward and
arranged the fire softly--then giving her another wistful look he bowed
and went lightly out of the room. With gentle step Mrs. Derrick came up
to Faith, to kiss her and ask how she felt. Faith's eyelids unclosed.

"Very happy, mother,--and tired too. Don't you think I could have a
light presently?"

"This minute, pretty child. But lie down on the couch, Faith, and I'll
bring up the little table."

That was done, and then Faith read her letter, with first a rapid and
then a slow enjoyment of it, making every word and sentence do more
than double duty, and bring the very writer near. And then she lay with
it clasped upon her bosom, thinking those flowing trains of half
feverish thought which are so full of images, but which in her case
flowed with a clear stream over smooth channels, nor ever met a rough
break or jar. Even Dr. Harrison did not make an exception, for Faith's
thought of him was constantly softened by her prayer for him. Her
mother drew near when the letter was at last folded up, and watched her
from the other side of the stand; but though mind and heart too were
full enough, she rightly judged that Faith needed no more excitement;
and so never mentioned Dr. Harrison's name, nor even asked how he came
to carry off the rosebud.

Faith's trains of thought ended at last in a sleep which lasted till
past her tea-time. Mrs. Derrick was still by her side when she awoke,
and Faith opening her eyes as quietly as she had shut them, remarked,

"Mother!--letters are great things."

"Why child," said her mother smiling, "what have you been dreaming
about?"

"Nothing.--That isn't a dream; it's a reality."

Blessing in her heart the sender of the r