over
strawberries."

"Where do you commonly do all these things?"

"The sponge cake and the strawberries in the other room--other things
in the kitchen."

"We may as well begin as we are to go on!" said Mr. Linden. "If you
will not come and keep me company I must do that for you. Faith, I
think Miss Essie's statement of facts was much like the artistic
representation of lions and men, in the fable!"

Faith did not at all dislike this compounding of matters; and so the
strawberries were looked over, and the sponge cake beaten in the
dining-room; with various social enlivenings. For besides Mr. Linden's
calls upon her attention, and the subjects by him presented to be
looked over along with the strawberries, Faith made now and then a run
into the kitchen to see Mrs. Derrick or Cindy there; and if the runs up
stairs were less frequent, they took more time. For Miss Bezac had
arrived, and she and Miss Linden were deep in the white folds of
Faith's muslin dress. There too was Mrs. Derrick, for the touch and the
making of that dress stirred her very heart. Faith was often in
demand,--not to use her needle, but her taste--or to be fitted, or
'tried on,' as Miss Bezac said.

Coming back from one of these "trying" visits to the three workers,
Faith found Mr. Linden by the sitting-room table; before him a package,
in his hands a letter.

"Faith," he said, "come and look at this." Faith ran in from the
strawberries.

"Rosy fingers are not needed," said Mr. Linden, "but as eyes are first
called for they may pass. Sit down here by me, Mignonette, and take off
this wrapping paper."

Which very curiously and amusedly, and now with a little suspicious
tinge in her cheeks, Faith did; remarking that she could not help her
fingers being rosy.

"Keep the roses to their chosen location," said Mr. Linden gravely, as
the first paper parted right and left and shewed a second, which bore
this inscription.--"For Mrs. Endecott Linden--with the warmest regards
and respects of W. and L. Olyphant." Faith suddenly jumped up, pushed
back her chair and whisked back to the strawberries, where she was
found diligently putting the hulls into a dish by themselves.

"Mignonette, your fingers will be more rosy than ever." Mr. Linden
spoke from the doorway where he stood watching her. Then coming forward
he laid a key on the table. "That belongs to you."

"Wouldn't you be so good as to take care of it? You see I am busy."

"No my dear, I wil