Faith met and kissed her.

"Where have you been now, mother? tea's ready."

"Pretty child!" was Mrs. Derrick's answer, "how glad I am you got that
letter this morning!"

Faith smiled; _she_ didn't forget it, but it was not to be expected
that it should be quite so present to Mrs. Derrick's mind. Yet almost
at the same instant she felt that her mother had some particular reason
for saying that just then.

"Where have you been, mother?"

"Up to Squire Stoutenburgh's," said Mrs. Derrick, putting herself
wearily in the rocking-chair,--"and they were all out gone--to Pequot
to spend the day. So I lost my labour."

Gently Faith stood before her and took off her bonnet. "What did you go
there for, mother?"

"I wanted to see him--" said Mrs. Derrick. "Squire Deacon's been here,
Faith."

"Mother! Is he back again?--What for?"

"Settle here and live, I suppose. He's married--that's one thing. What
was he here for?--why the old story, Faith,--he wants the place." And
Mrs. Derrick's eyes looked as if she wanted it too.

"Does he want it very much, mother?"

"Means to have it, child--and I don't feel as if I could live in any
other house in Pattaquasset. So I thought maybe Mr. Stoutenburgh would
make him hold off till next year, Faith," said Mrs. Derrick, a little
smile coming back to her lips. "I guess I'll go up again after tea."

Faith coaxed her mother into the other room and gave her her tea
daintily; revolving in her mind the while many things. When tea was
over and Mrs. Derrick was again bent upon business, Faith ventured a
question. "Mother, what do you suppose Squire Stoutenburgh can do to
help us?"

"I can't tell, child,--he might talk Sam Deacon into letting us keep
the house, at least. We've got to live somewhere, you know, Faith. It's
no sort of use for me to talk to him,--he's as stiff as a crab
tree--and I aint. I think I'll try."

"To-night, mother?"

"I thought I would."

Faith hesitated, putting the cups together. "Mother, I'll go. I dare
say I shall do as well."

"I'm afraid you're tired too, pretty child," said Mrs. Derrick, but
with evident relief at the very idea.

"I tired?--Never," said Faith. "You rest, mother--and don't fear," she
added, kissing her. "I'll put on my bonnet--and be there and back again
in a little while."

The summer twilight was falling grey, but Faith knew she could have a
guardian to come home; and besides the road between the two houses was
thickly built up and