e expected one had never yet failed. Was Mr.
Linden sick?--and what would Miss Faith think?--the letter might fail
from other causes (hardly, Reuben thought) but what would _she_
think?--herself so far from well. And then, should he go at once and
tell her--or let her find it out from his non-appearance?

That last idea was promptly rejected,--she should at least not be in
suspense, and Reuben was soon at her door, as soon admitted. But he
came in very quietly, without that spring of step which had so often
brought a letter, and standing by her chair said gently,--

"Miss Faith, I didn't find anything to-night--but I thought I'd come
and tell you, for fear you'd be expecting."

"Not find anything!"--said Faith raising herself half up, with the
start of colour into her pale cheeks.

"No, ma'am,--they said at the office there was nothing. Maybe it will
come to-morrow."

It hurt him to see the little patient droop of each feature as Faith
laid herself down again.

"Thank you, Reuben," she said. "O yes, maybe it will."

Words of consolation Reuben did not presume to offer, but there was a
great deal in his face and quiet low-spoken "Can I do anything
to-night, Miss Faith?"

"No," she said cheerfully. "There's nothing. Isn't it time Mr. and Mrs.
Roscom had some fresh eggs, Reuben? Mother will give you them."

Reuben only said he would stop there and see them.

The letter did not come next day. Reuben came, as usual, in the
afternoon, but only to tell his bad success. He had not the heart to
bring cowslips again, and ventured no words to Faith but about some of
her poor people. That subject Faith went into fully. After Reuben was
gone she lay quiet a while; and took her indemnification in the evening
by getting Mrs. Derrick to read to her one or two of those strings of
passages which Faith called ladders. Whether she could mount by them or
not just then, her mother might; and hearing them Faith went to sleep.
She said nothing about her letters, except to tell Mrs. Derrick they
had not come.

That day and the next were quiet days, being the days of Dr. Harrison's
absence. And if some accident had befallen Wednesday's letter, there
was good hope of one Friday. And as Friday wore away, Faith did not
know that she was counting the hours, and yet could at any time have
answered any question as to the time of day. It was one of those calm
days, within doors and without, which ebb away so noiselessly, that
only the clo