ette. But it may chance that for even the offer of one I shall
have to wait--and for Mignonette I cannot. Voyez-vous, Mademoiselle?"

Yes, plainly enough; as he could tell by the bright flush which mounted
up to her forehead and made her a Rhodora again. And doubtless Faith
would have said several things, only--she could _not!_ and so sat like
the stillest of scared mice; with no more words at command. Mr. Linden
laughed telling her he thought there was no hope of benefitting her
cheeks any further that day, and that to judge by her eyelids sleep
would be the next thing; and so turned the little carriage round and
Jerry's head towards home.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Dinner was ready when they reached home, so that Faith was taken at
once to the table; and when dinner was over, up stairs to go to sleep.
And sleep held her well nigh all the afternoon. The sunbeams were long,
the light of day was growing gentle, when Faith at last awoke and
arose, with a tinge in her cheeks and a face getting to be itself
again. She put her hair and her dress in fresh order, and went softly
about doing the same office for several things in the room; thinking
all the while what Mr. Linden had been working for, and how shut her
mouth was from saying anything about it.

"Where is Mr. Linden, mother?"

"Down stairs."

"I am going down too. I am quite well enough without being carried.
Come, mother."

"He won't like it, child,--you'd better let me call him."

"No indeed," said Faith. "I'll just take your arm, mother. It will do
me good."

So softly and with a little wilful pleasure on Faith's part, the stairs
were descended; and not content with that, Faith went into the tea-room
and began as of old to give a delicate hand to the tea-table
arrangements. Then when all was done, slowly made her entrance into the
other room. But there, to Faith's dismay, were two gentlemen instead of
one, standing in the middle of the floor in earnest conversation. Both
turned the minute she opened the door, and Squire Stoutenburgh came
towards her, exclaiming, "Why Miss Faith!--nobody gave me any hope of
seeing you. My dear, are you as well as you look?"

Faith's instant extreme desire was to quit the field she had so rashly
ventured upon. Her answer to Mr. Stoutenburgh, if made, was too
unintelligible to be understood or remembered; and meanwhile she was as
the Squire had hinted, looking very well, and a picture of dainty
confusion. It might not hel