ny Mr. Linden's would have been, of choice, cannot be known; for
Mrs. Derrick's mind was so intent upon the last night's expedition, so
eager to know how the poor woman was, and what she said, and where she
lived; and how Faith enjoyed the drive, and what made her get so
tired,--that he had full occupation in warding oil the questions and
turning them another way. In compliance with her wishes he had taken
his usual place on the couch, and there made himself useful both with
word and hand; the particular use of breakfast to him, was not so
apparent.

It was over not a bit too soon; for Cindy had not finished the work of
removing it before she brought up word that the doctor was come and
wanted to see Mis' Derrick. Faith judged the enquiry was meant for
herself and ran down stairs accordingly. The doctor was satisfied that
she was none the worse of her ride with him, but had brought a very
serious face to the examination.

"Have you forgiven me, Miss Derrick?"

"I have nothing to forgive, sir!" Faith told him with a look that gave
sweet assurance of it.--"I am not hurt. I am very glad I went."

"May I say," said the doctor, and he looked as if he was uneasy till he
had said it,--"that you misjudged me yesterday from that woman's words.
I did not choose to interrupt her--and the severity of your remarks to
me," he said with a little smile which did not want feeling, "took from
me at the moment the power to justify myself. But Miss Derrick, I have
not done what you seemed to suppose--and fairly enough, for _she_ gave
you to understand it. I never set myself to overthrow her belief in
anything. I have hardly held any conversation with her, except what
related to her physical condition; if I have said anything it has been
a word intended to quiet her. I saw her mind was very much disturbed."

Faith had looked very grave, with eyes cast down, during the hearing of
this speech. She raised them then, at the end, and said with great
gentleness,

"There is but one way to give quiet that will stand, Dr. Harrison."

"I am sure you are right," he said looking at her with an unwonted
face, nearer to reverence than Dr. Harrison was often known to give to
anything "I hope you will go and see that poor creature again and undo
any mischief my careless words may have done."

"Won't you undo them yourself, Dr. Harrison?"

"I will endorse yours, so well as I can!" he said. "But won't you see
her again?"

"If I can,--I will try t