after awhile, and as
breakfast time approached, Mrs. Derrick suggested that Faith should go
up and see that the table was all right, and receive the breakfast
which she herself would send up. Cindy was already there, passing back
and forth, and the door stood open to facilitate her operations.

If Faith had felt curious as to the success of Sam Stoutenburgh's
efforts at concealment, her curiosity was at once relieved. The room as
she saw it through the half-open door was bright with firelight and
sunshine; the spoons and cups on the little table shone cheerily in the
glow; and all things were in their accustomed pretty order and
disorder. But the couch was empty, and Mr. Linden stood by the
mantelpiece, leaning one arm there, his face bent down and covered with
his hand.

Faith had no need to knock--the door being open and Cindy in full
possession; but as her light step came near the fire he turned suddenly
and held out his hand to her without a word. Then gently pushing her
back to the corner of the couch, Mr. Linden bade her "sit down and be
quiet--" and he himself took a chair at her side. She could hardly tell
how he looked--the face was so different from any she had ever seen him
wear.

For a minute she obeyed orders; then she said, though with an eye that
avoided meeting his,

"I mustn't be quiet, Mr. Linden--I must see to the breakfast table."

If his first motion was to hinder that, he thought better of it, and
suffered her to go and give her finishing touches; watching her all the
time, as she felt, but without speaking; and when Cindy shut the door
and tramped down stairs, the room was very still. Only the light
crackling of the hickory sticks in the chimney, and those soft
movements about the table. If ever such movements were made with
pleasure--if ever a face of very deep peacefulness hovered over the
placing and displacing of knives and forks, plates and
salt-cellars,--it was then. Yet it was not a very abstracted face, nor
looked as if the _outward_ quiet might be absolutely immovable. The
last touch put to the table, Faith glanced at the hickory sticks on the
fire; but they wanted nothing; and then her look came round to Mr.
Linden, and the smile which could no longer be kept back, came too; a
smile of touching acknowledgment.

"Miss Faith, will you come and sit down?"

She came, silently.

One deep breath she did hear, as Mr. Linden arranged the cushions and
with gentle force made her lean a