aying better than anything, Mrs.
Davids; I'll tell him."

"Do," said Mrs. Davids. "I wisht you would. Husband would have said it
completer. He thinks ma'am," (turning to Mrs. Somers again) "that Mr.
Linden is a wonderful man! And I'm of the opinion he's handsome."

Faith had been sitting, quiet and demure, for some time past, hearing
what was going on; but this last sentence drove her to the right about
like lightning. She found something to do in another part of the room.

"Did you ever hear anybody say he wasn't?" said Mrs. Somers. "Mr.
Somers, it's time we were going. Ah--there's Squire Stoutenburgh!
Faith--come here!"

And Squire Stoutenburgh, appearing in the doorway like the worthy
father of his stout son, bowed to the company.

"Well Mrs. Derrick--" he said,--"good day Mr. Somers--_and_ Mrs.
Somers! I beg pardon--Well Miss Faith! I'm glad it is well, I'm sure.
My dear, how do you do?"

"Why very well, sir!" said Faith.

"Why so it is!" said Squire Stoutenburgh taking hold of both her hands
and looking at her. "Sam said you were as pale as a ghost when he
carried you down to the spring--but Sam don't always see straight when
he's excited. You needn't be frightened if I kiss you, my dear you know
I always do, and always have--since you were a year old," said the
Squire as he took his wonted privilege.

Faith gravely submitted, not letting the Squire however get any further
than her cheek; which ought to have contented him.

"Sam was very good to me yesterday, sir," she answered.

"I think, Squire," said Mr. Somers, "your son was--a--in luck, as we
say. A fortunate chance! What most people would have thought
no--a--disagreeable office."

"Sam's a good boy--" said his father,--"a very good boy--always was. He
does crow a little over Dr. Harrison, I must say. But what shall we do
with the doctor, Mr. Somers?--what does he deserve for running away
with our Pattaquasset roses and turning them into meadow lilies? Yes,
yes, Miss Faith--you may look as pink as you please now--it won't help
the matter. What shall we do with him, sir? My dear," said Squire
Stoutenburgh seating Faith by his side and dropping his voice, "you're
growing wonderfully like your father!"

A changed, sweet glance of Faith's eyes answered him.

"Yes!"--the Squire repeated meditatively and looking at her.--"Ah he
was a fine man! I used to think he couldn't be better--but I s'pose he
is now. My dear, you needn't wonder when I tell you t