f you
shut your eyes it will do just as well."

"You can't see her eyes if they're shut, you foolish boy," said Mr.
Linden,--"go off and attend to your own affairs. Miss Faith, shall I
tie this on--or do you wish for a deputy?"

There is a great deal of character that comes out in a play! Miss Essie
might have had excellent opportunity for prosecuting her "studies," if
she had not been busy on her own score. For Faith did not play like
Mrs. Stoutenburgh. She played like herself--with a gentleness that
never overstepped delicate bounds; but her foot was light and true, and
her movements fearless and free as those of the very boys. It was a
pretty game that she played. It would have been a short one, but that
it was so hard to identify her captives. One boy after another Faith
caught,--to the feeling they were all alike! At last her hand seized an
other prize, and her voice exclaimed, Mr. Stoutenburgh!

There was a sharp change about now between the older and the younger
people. Faith did her best not to be caught again. But after half a
dozen changes between Mr. Linden and the boys, he again had the
pleasure of investing her with the plaid ribband.

"May I give her the question?" whispered Miss Essie at Mr. Linden's ear.

"No indeed!" said Mr. Linden.--"Miss Faith, what is the difference
between a bird and a philosopher?"

Somewhat to the surprise as well as amusement of the company, the
answer to this was the heartiest, merriest bit of a laugh; then she
said,

"One looks round the corner, Mr. Linden!"

"Well you won't see round the corner now," he said softly and laughing
as he tied on the ribband. "Miss Faith! do you mean to say I did?"

She said "no," and ran away. But Faith was not in luck this time, for
she caught Miss Essie. And Miss Essie in a few minutes got the chance
she wanted at Faith. She wouldn't have had it, for Faith ran too well
and vanished too skilfully; but a little knot of the boys getting into
a knot just in her way and at the wrong time, Faith fell a prey.

"Now," said her captor unbinding her ribband, "what do you think I am
going to ask you?"

Faith was very doubtful on the subject, and waited in silence.

"Only a matter of taste," said Miss Essie. "Who do you
think"--(speaking slowly)--"is the handsomest man in Pattaquasset?"

The colour mounted in Faith's cheeks too distinctly to leave any room
for the doubt that no other answer was at hand. She avoided Miss
Essie's black eyes.