ea-kettle, just
then a practical illustration of her remark.

About as bright and fresh and sweet as the morning Miss Linden looked
when she came down, but warmer and gentler than March in his best mood.
Her interest in everything about the house and its two tenants was
unbounded, and without being really like her brother, there was enough
family likeness in manner and voice to give a pleasant reminder now and
then. While they were at breakfast the man came from Pequot according
to order, but she went out alone to attend to him, coming back to the
table with a sort of gleeful face that spoke of pleasure or mischief in
prospect.

"Faith," she said, "we cannot touch those mantillas this morning."

"Can't we?" said Faith. "Which part of Pattaquasset shall we go to see?"

"Suppose we go up to my room and discuss matters."--

Faith was ready. Ready as a child, or as the "bird" she used to be
called, for any innocent play or work.

"My dear little sister," said Miss Linden as they ran up stairs, the
glee working out at the dainty finger ends that were on Faith's belt,
"don't you know that I promised you a 'message'? and don't you want to
have it?--O how lovely this room is! That trunk is not lovely, standing
just there. Dear Faith, you need not think all my baggage is coming
after it!"

"I wish it could,"--said Faith, looking after her "message."

"I want to shew you the key of this--it has something peculiar about
it," said Miss Linden searching in her bag. "Endecott said, Faith, that
as you and he had been together so much in a French atmosphere, you
must let him do one thing in the French style. To which message, as
well as to the trunk, you will find this the key."

Now attached to the key was a little card, on which was written simply
the word, "Trousseau."

Faith understood the word well enough, and it seemed to turn her into a
pretty petrifaction--with internal life at work indeed, as the rising
and falling colours witnessed. She stood with bended head looking at
the mysterious key; then making a swift transit to the window she
opened it and threw back the blinds and stood looking out, the key in
one hand giving little impatient or abstracted taps against the fingers
of the other. It was a pretty landscape certainly, but Faith had looked
at it often before.

Miss Linden on her part followed Faith to the window with her eyes and
a smile, then sat looking at the great leathern trunk in its travelling
cover,