time and place?--and shall it be with you or to you?"

"It will be both, won't it?" said Faith; and she went for her Bible.

CHAPTER XXX.

The day was struggling into clearness by the time dinner was over.
Patches of blue sky looked down through grey, vapoury, scattering
clouds; while now and then a few rain drops fell to keep up the
character of the morning, and broad warm genial sunbeams fell between
them. It was not fair yet for a drive; and Mr. Linden went out on some
errands of business, leaving Faith with a charge to sleep and rest and
be ready against his return.

He was but a little while gone when Jem Waters made his appearance and
asked for Faith. Mr. Simlins had been ill--that Faith knew--but Jem
brought a sad report of how ill he had been, and a message that he was
"tired of not seeing Faith and wished she would let Jem fetch her down.
She might go back again as soon as she'd a mind to." He wanted to see
her "real bad," according to Jem; for he had ordered the best wagon on
the premises to be cleaned and harnessed up, and the best buffalo robe
put in, and charged Jem to bring Miss Faith "if she could anyways
come." And there was Jem and the wagon.

Faith demurred; she had not had her sleep and didn't know, or rather
did know, how the proceeding would be looked upon; but she also fancied
more meaning in the summons than Jem had been commissioned to make
known. And perhaps another little wee feminine thought came in to help
her decision.

"Mother," she said, "I shall go. You need not say anything about it
unless you are asked. It isn't far to Mr. Simlins--I shall be home in
time for my ride." So, quickly ready, Jem drove her down.

Mr. Simlins she found sitting up, in a nondescript invalid's attire of
an old cloak and a summer waistcoat; and warm as the day was, with a
little fire burning, which was not unnecessary to correct the damp of
the unused sitting-room. He was, as he said, "fallen away considerable,
and with no more strength than a spring chicken," but for the rest
looked as usual. And so spoke.

"Well,--why haint you been to see me before?"

"I have been sick, sir."

"Sick?" said he, his voice softening unconsciously towards her sweet
tones. "Sit there and let me see.--I believe you have. But you aint fur
from well now!" He had some reason, for the face he had turned to the
sunlight bore all the quiet lines of happiness, and its somewhat faint
colour was replaced under his scrut