I couldn't help it."

"No."

"And Endy,--he used to talk to me."

"Yes,"--the word was short and grave.

"I don't know why he did it; and I did not like it, and I could not
help it. He would talk to me about Bible things."

"Well?--He used to do that long ago."

"And long ago you told me not to let him talk to me of his doubts and
false opinions. Endecott, I didn't forget that--I remembered it all the
while,--and yet he _did_ talk to me of those things, and I could not
tell how to hinder it. And then, Endecott--the things were in my
head--and I could not get them out!"--The manner of Faith's slow words
told of a great deal of heart-work.

Mr. Linden did not start--but Faith felt the thrill which passed over
him, even to the fingers that held hers. Clearly _this_ was not what he
expected.

"Faith,"--he said,--"has he touched _your_ faith?"

Faith's head drew nearer to his, with a manner half caressing, half
shrinking, but the answer was a low, "No--never."

"Child!" he said with a sort of deep terror in his voice,--"I think I
could not have borne that. I would rather he had won away your heart
from me!"

Faith did not move, and seemed to herself scarce to breathe, such a
spasm of various feelings was upon her heart. "It did not, Endy,"--she
whispered.

He stooped to kiss her, as if that was the only answer he could give
just then; merely saying, "Tell me all about it."

"I don't know how he did it"--Faith went on hesitatingly, as if the
words were not easy to her;--"and always before I knew it was coming,
it was said,--something that troubled me; almost every time he came. I
don't know whether it troubled him too, or whether--But no matter what
it was said for! He would tell me of some question that had occurred to
him, or some difficulty that he could not understand; or else it was a
contrary fact that somebody else had stated, or a cunning explanation
that somebody had found out, or a discovery that was against the truth,
or some train of consequences and inferences that would undermine it.
And these things were always so curiously put, that though I knew they
were false, Endy--I never doubted that--I knew they were not the
truth;--yet I could not shew him that they were not; and that hurt me.
It pained me by day and by night;--but that was not all." Faith
hesitated. "These things never did touch my faith, Endecott--but it
seems to me now as if they had shut it up in a fortress and besieged
it. I hadn