But Faith," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh--"here comes the tea, and you can't
go home without Mr. Stoutenburgh,--and nothing qualifies him for
business like a contented state of his appetite!"

Faith laughed and sat down again, and then was fain upon persuasion to
take a place at the table, which was a joyous scene enough. Faith did
little but fill a place; her mind was busy with thoughts that began to
come pressingly; she tried not to have it seem so.

"My dear," said the Squire as he helped Faith to raspberries, "what
fine weather we have had, eh?"

"Beautiful weather!"--Faith responded with a little energy.

"Papa," said one of the children, "do you think Mr. Linden's had it
fine too?"

"What tangents children's minds go off in!" observed Mrs. Stoutenburgh.
"Faith! don't eat your raspberries without sugar,--how impatient you
are. You used to preach patience to me when I was sick."

"I can be very patient, with these raspberries and no sugar," said
Faith, wishing she could hide the bloom of her cheeks as easily as she
hid that of the berries under the fine white shower.

"Poor child!" said her friend gently,--"I think you have need of all
your patience." And her hands came softly about Faith's plate, removing
encumbrances and adding dainties, with a sort of mute sympathy that at
the moment could find no more etherial channel. "Mr. Stoutenburgh drove
down to Quapaw the other day," she went on in a low voice, "to ask
those fishing people what indications our land weather gave of the
weather at sea; and--he couldn't half tell me about his visit when he
came home," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh, breaking short off in her account.
"Linda, go get that glass of white roses and set it by Miss
Faith,--maybe she'll take them home with her."

Faith looked at the white roses and smelled their sweetness; and then
she said, "Who did you see, Mr. Stoutenburgh?--down at Quapaw?"

"None of the men, my dear--they were all away, but I saw half the rest
of the village; and even the children knew what report the men had
brought in, and what _they_ thought of the weather. Everybody had a
good word to say about it, Miss Faith; and everybody--I do believe!"
said the Squire reverently, "had been on their knees to pray for it.
Jonathan Ling's wife said that was all they could ever do for him."
Which pronoun, be it understood, did not refer to Jonathan Ling.

"They're Mr. Linden's roses, Miss Faith," said little Linda, who stood
waiting for more m