them deepening, as it seemed, from all sources.

Come home when Mr. Linden would, his room looked as if somebody had
just stepped out of it. The fire was always in its best beauty; the
hearth guiltless of ashes; the temperature genial whatever the weather
out of doors might be; the books, the papers, the table, in their
wonted order or disorder, as fresh as if dust never fell. But the fairy
of the place was always out of sight.

CHAPTER XXXI.

The 29th of November came on Wednesday, which permitted Mrs.
Stoutenburgh to have her dinner at an earlier hour than would else have
been possible. To this dinner the two older guests were invited--the
boys were only to come to supper; and four o'clock was the time.

Till near three, studies and reading were in full force, but then other
duties claimed attention.

"If I could only sit next you at dinner, Miss Faith," Mr. Linden said
as he shut up the books, "we could talk French all the time!--but there
is no hope of that. And Miss Faith--" he said as she turned to go
upstairs, "do you know that all the things on my table are not in their
proper place?"

Very much wondering, Faith was for a moment at a loss.

"What is wrong, Mr. Linden?"

"I would not give it so harsh a name, Miss Faith--only I thought
perhaps you would go in there before I come up and see that all is left
just as usual,--if you would be so good."

Faith went up, querying with herself whether Cindy could perhaps have
been in there and committed some dire damage--or _what_ it could be.

What could it!--if ever a room was scrupulously in order, that was; and
the table--it had not been stirred, nor a book upon it, since Faith's
arranging hands had been there. Even writing implements were not laid
about, as they often were,--the table was just as usual. Unless----

Yes, in front of the books stood a glass of water, and therein one dark
velvet rose, truly of a "Cramoisi superieure," failing to support
itself upon its own green leaves, laid its face half coquettishly and
half wearily upon dark sprigs of heliotrope and myrtle. Thence it
looked at Faith. And Faith looked at it, with a curious smile of
recognition, and yet of doubt,--whether _that_ could possibly be what
he meant. But she was to see that all things were "left just as usual;"
it did not admit of a serious question. So lifting the glass and the
rose, Faith and it went off together.

Faith's best dress, of course put on for this occasion