hear that story one other time
to-night!" And she put her arms round Faith, and leaned her head
wearily on her shoulder. "I'll sit up to tea," she went on presently,
"and then if the rest of the town comes, you'll have to see 'em--for I
can't!"

Faith gently put her into a chair and holding her in her arms stooped
over her. "Mother"--the words were as soft as the kisses which came
between,--"you mustn't mind it so much. Sit up to tea! Why I have made
some of the best muffins that ever were seen."

"Child!" said her mother in a low voice, "I felt this morning as if I
had been as near death as you had!"--and if the words needed any
emphasis, they had it in the way Mrs. Derrick leaned her head against
Faith and was silent. But not for long. She got up, and kissing Faith
two or three times, said, "My pretty child!" in a tone that indeed told
of possible heartbreak; and then half holding her, half held by her,
drew her on into the tea-room.

CHAPTER XXVII.

It so happened that the first griddleful of muffins did not do credit
to their raising--(or to their bringing up, elegant reader!)--therefore
Mr. Linden's teatray waited for the second. Of course the other tea
waited too. Mrs. Derrick walked out into the kitchen to see _what_ was
the matter with the griddle; Faith discovered that one spoon on the
tray looked dull, and went to the spoonbasket to change it. Thus
occupied, and giving little reprehensive glances at the spoons
generally, and mental admonitions to Cindy, with the open closet door
half screening her from the rest of the room, she was startled--not by
the opening of another door, but by these words,--

"Miss Faith, shall I carry this tray upstairs?"

To this day it is uncertain what sort of a spoon Faith brought
back!--or indeed whether she brought any at all. There was one flash of
gladness in her cheek and her eye, with the exclamation, "Mr.
Linden!"--then she came from the closet just her old little self.

"Are you well enough to be down stairs, sir?"

"In whose estimation, ma'am?"

"Because if you are, Mr. Linden," she said with a face of laughing
pleasure, "won't you please come into the other room?"

"I think not," he said, laughing a little too,--if the exertion of
coming down had made him pale, the pleasure partly concealed it. "I
will take a chair here, if you please. Am I alone, of all Pattaquasset,
to be forbidden to pay my respects to you to-night? Miss Faith, how do
you do?"

"