, where you are going?" he said with a sort of gentle
kindliness he did not always put on.

"Why to get some tea that's fit to give you, doctor. I don't think this
is."

"Will you give me something else?"

"I'll give you that first," said Mrs. Derrick--"I'll see about the
rest." And passing out into the kitchen she gave her orders about the
teapot, and a quiet little injunction to Faith to go in and sit down.

"Mother, you're tired," said Faith. "Let me see about the tea!"

"I guess I will!" said Mrs. Derrick. "I'm not going to have the house
stand up on one end just because Dr. Harrison wants his tea. You go
off, pretty child,--if you stay here he'll think you're baking muffins
for him, and I don't choose he should."

"Why I would do it, mother," said Faith. She went off, however, into
the other room and sat down gravely, quite the other side of the
fireplace from the tea-table. Dr. Harrison was standing on the rug with
his back to the fire, and followed her with his eye.

"How do you do?" he said in a softened voice, stepping a step nearer to
her. She looked up and gave him a frank and kind "very well!"

Was it altogether professional, the way in which he took up her hand
and held it an instant?

"Cool, and quiet," he said. "It's all right. I didn't frighten you out
of your wits yesterday?"

The "no, sir," was in a different tone.

"Do you suppose," he said, "that your mother will ever bear the sight
of me again?"

"Why I hope so, sir," said Faith smiling.

"I don't know!" he said. "I wonder if I have been so much more wicked
than I knew of? I don't think I have. I couldn't have punished myself
any more."

Mrs. Derrick came in, followed by teapot and muffins, and having with
her usual politeness requested the doctor to take a seat at the table,
she proceeded to pour him out a cup of tea, nor even stinted him in
sugar.

"If I stay at home according to your orders," said Mr. Linden, "I shall
have all the trustees after me."

"You aren't just the person they ought to be after," said the doctor.
"Mrs. Derrick, I don't know why we never have anything at our house so
good as this." The doctor was discussing a buttered muffin with
satisfaction that was evidently unfeigned.

Mrs. Derrick knew why--but she wouldn't tell him, though exulting in
her own knowledge. A low knock at the parlour door announced Reuben
Taylor.

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Derrick--" he said,--"but I went"--

"I am here, Reuben,"