anforth took to her mightily; opened heart and arms
without reservation; and delighting to have her company, carried her
down into the kitchen and initiated Faith into deep mysteries of the
science and art the head quarters of which are there. Now did Faith
learn new secrets about coffee, about eggs, about salads and about
vegetables, that she never knew before; and for some unknown reason she
was keen to learn, and liked the half hours over the kitchen fire with
Madame Danforth so well, that the little Frenchwoman grew proud of her
pupil.

It was the third day of Faith's being at Pequot. Faith was engaged in
some gentle offices about the room, folding up clothes and putting
drawers in order. Miss Danforth's eye watched her, following every
movement, till Madame Danforth left the room to go out on business.
Faith was summoned then to her aunt's side. It was the darkening part
of the afternoon. Faith sat down at the foot of Miss Danforth's great
easy chair, looked into the fire, and wondered what they were doing at
Pattaquasset.

"And so, Faith, child, you're taken to new ways, I hear."

To Faith's quick ear, Miss Danforth's voice shewed a purpose. It was
less brisk than its old wont. Her answer was as simple as possible.
"Yes, aunt Dilly. It's true."

"You don't think you're any better than you used to be--do you?"

"No, ma'am. Yet my life is better, I hope."

"I don't believe it! How could it be?"

"In this at least, that I am the servant of God now. Before, I never
thought of serving him."

"I never did," said Miss Dilly. "But"--

There was a silence. Faith's heart leapt to hear this confession, but
she said nothing and sat still as a mouse.

"How's Mr. Linden getting on in Pattaquasset?"

"Well"

"You like him as well as ever?"

"Yes."

Alert questions. Rather faint answers.

"Do you remember what he said one night, about everybody being
precious? Do you remember it, Faith?"

"Yes, ma'am--very well."

"I suppose I have thought of it five hundred and fifty times," Miss
Dilly went on. "What were the words, Faith? do you know 'em?"

Faith did not move, only repeated, and if they had been literal
diamonds every word would not have seemed so precious to her,--

"'_They shall be mine, saith the Lord, in the day when I make up my
jewels_.'"

"That's it!" said Miss Dilly. "Now go on, can you, Faith, and tell me
what it means."

"It is spoken of the people that fear the Lord, aunt Dilly--it goes o