 CHAPTER 31 THE 29TH OF NOVEMBER CAME ON WEDNESDAY, WHICH PERMITTED MISSES STALTENBURG TO HAVE 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 in reading were in full force, but then other duties claimed attention. If I could only sit next to 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 Cramouci Superlior, failing to support itself upon its own green leaves, laid its face half coquettishly and half virally upon dark sprigs of heliotrope and myrtle. Since 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, was a black silk. She had thought that a little extravagant at the time it was got, but Mrs. Derrick would have it. It was made with the most absolute plainness. High in the neck were the invariable little white ruffle graced the white throat. But the sleeves were short, and similar white ruffles softened the dividing line between them and the well-rounded fair arms. Her hair was as usual. Her feet were as usual. Only the shoes were of fresh neatness. But when Faith had, with eyes that saw only them, not herself, fastened the rose and myrtle on the bosom of her dress, a little figure stood there that in it soft angles and exquisite propriety of attire would have been noted in any circle of splendor and might have satisfied the most fastidious lover of elegance. Wrapped up and hooded, Faith went downstairs and Mr. Linden put her in the Staltenberg carriage, which rolled off to the mansion of the same name in a very short space of time. In solitary grandeur, Faith was ushered into Mrs. Staltenberg's bedroom, where first the fire kept her company, and then Mrs. Staltenberg herself came in from another door and both unwrapped her and wrapped her up. But when all that could be done was done, Mrs. Staltenberg ran off again and told Faith laughing that she hadn't seen her yet and was all ready for her in the parlor. Faith, being left to herself, stepped out into the passage where Mr. Linden was standing with folded arms before a window that looked out upon the closing November day. Faith came softly up beside him. I've seen Mrs. Staltenberg, she said, but she says she hasn't seen me. Are your flowers right now, Mr. Linden? Miss Faith, why do you wear velvet shoes? he said, turning full upon her. You have not been downstairs? No, certainly. I saw Mrs. Staltenberg up here. Then shall I have the pleasure of taking you down? I see nothing that is not right, he added, smiling. It was rather an odd new thing to Faith to be taken down, or in, anywhere. The form of having a gentleman's arm was something rather startling, but she did not shoe it. Downstairs they went into the glowing parlor where Faith was met and greeted by Mrs. Staltenberg de nouveau. Ah, Miss Faith, said the squire, as he gave her his salutation. How extravagant you are to add roses to roses in that style! Don't you know it's a waste of material? No, sir. I shall use it all up. I should like to see you after you get through, said Mr. Staltenberg, laughing. Ask Mr. Linden if it's not waste. Mr. Linden, however, entirely declined to assent to any such proposition. Nay, even hinted that if anyone was to be charged with wasting roses just then, it was the squire himself. Yes, I think so too, said Mrs. Staltenberg, but how funnily you always see through things and turn them about. Roses are not very opaque things to see through, he answered smiling, while Mrs. Staltenberg rescued Faith and putting her harm round her drew her off towards the sofa. Where Faith was glad to get at a distance from the rose consumers she felt rather nervous. Where is Sam? she asked. This is his day, isn't it? He was here a minute ago, said his mother. I guess he ran off when he heard you coming. He takes fits of being bashful once in a while. They don't last long. Your mother wasn't afraid to let you come with her horses, was she? No, ma'am, Faith said, not at all. But she hasn't got back her old trust in horses and carriages generally. I wish she had. I don't, said Mrs. Staltenberg. They are not to be trusted generally, child. Has your horse got well yet? Not well. Mr. Skip says he's better, but we can't use him. Well, I wanted to talk to you about that. Mr. Staltenberg's been at me to do it this month. You know we've always got more horses on hand than we can use, and there's one of them that would just suit you. Won't you let him stand in your stable this winter and give Crab a chance? Oh no, Mrs. Staltenberg, thank you, said Faith. I dare say Crab will get better. It won't be necessary. And you know we don't ride much in winter. You're very kind to think of it. There you are, as usual, said Mrs. Staltenberg. I'm always afraid to ask you anything. You keep such magnifying glasses. But now, Faith, listen to reason. Not ride in winter? Oh, it's the very time for riding, if there's snow. And you could drive Jerry, or your mother could, just as well as Crab. He's as quiet as he can be. At the same time, said Mrs. Staltenberg, with a little dance in her eyes. If anybody else drives him, he can go a little faster. I'll tell Mother how good you are, Mrs. Staltenberg. It isn't my business to give answers for her. But did you ever see me drive? Not horses, said Mrs. Staltenberg, laughing. Not anything else, I am sure. I used to want to go after the cows, but Mother never would let me. But whatever Mrs. Staltenberg meant, she did not explain, for dinner was announced. And the squire came up to take possession of Faith again, receiving his wife's little whispered, I've done it, with all her own satisfaction. In the dining room, Sam was at last visible, but the bashful fit had not gone off, and Faith's black silk was even more distracting than her white muslin. Her greeting of him was simple enough to have been reassuring. I hope you will be as happy a great many times as you are today, Sam. She said as she shook hands with him, on the 29th of November, I mean. Perhaps Sam thought that, doubtful, perhaps impossible, perhaps undesirable. At all events, his words were few, and though he was permitted the post of honor at Faith's side, he did not do much for her entertainment at first. The dinner itself, service and style, and all included, was sufficiently like the squire and his wife, handsome and substantial, free, bountiful, and with the sort of laughing air of good cheer about it which more ceremony would have covered up. There was no lack of talk, either, while the company having the ability therefore, and then at least the inclination. But if Mr. Linden now and then called Sam out of his abstraction, so did the squire attack Faith, giving her a little sword play to parry as best she might. Miss Faith, he said, do you know to what a point you are, day by day, winding up the curiosity of this town of Patequasset? I, sir? said Faith, apparently, by her eye and air occupying the place of the center of motion to all this curiosity, the point of absolute rest. My dear, said the squire, they say two things about you. The first is that you never go out. Now don't trouble yourself to contradict that, but just tell me the reason. We're all friends here, you know. Why, I go out very often indeed, Mr. Statenberg, said Faith. Didn't I tell you not to contradict me? Ah, Miss Faith, young ladies never will take advice. Well, the first thing is, as I said, that you never go out. The second, said the squire, laughing, is that you do. Well, sir, said Faith, merrily, they can't both be true, and there isn't anything very bad about either of them. You're very curious, either, I think. What I should like to know, said Mr. Linden, is who keeps watch at the gate. Squire Deacon does for one, said Stam promptly. I see him there often enough. When you come to relieve the guard, said Mr. Linden smiling, and the laugh was turned for the moment, rather to Sam's confusion. So that's what the squires come back for, is it, said Mr. Statenberg. I thought somebody was to blame for his going away. Nobody was much to blame, said Mrs. Statenberg. I had a long talk with Sam the other day. Sam Deacon, I mean, said the squire, and he was keen to get acquainted with Dr. Harrison. And as the doctor came along just then, I gave him a chance. I guess the doctor blessed me for it. I did him. By the way, Miss Faith, I suppose you've got acquainted with the doctor by this time. Yes, sir, very well, Faith said quietly, though she felt the ground uneasy and unsafe. Well, what sort of a chap is he? Up to anything besides running away with all he can lay his hands on? Don't you know him, Mr. Statenberg? Can't say I do, Miss Faith. If I have the strikes me, he's not anxious I should. How can he be anxious, sir, when you are not? said Mr. Linden. Isn't that expecting too much? The squire laughed. I don't expect too much of him, he said. And don't you expect too little? After all, I'd as soon take a boy's mind as a man's. And he ain't popular among the boys. I thought he would be after that exhibition, but he ain't. Which remark Mr. Linden knew to be true, though he did not say so. Well, Mr. Statenberg, if you don't like him, why do you talk about him? said his wife. Faith, you can play blind man's bluff, I'm sure. Wait a bit, wait a bit, said the squire. I'm not ready to be blinded yet, if she is. You ladies are always in such a hurry. Now Mr. Linden and I want to have our ideas cleared up. What sort of a man is the doctor, Miss Faith? You say you know him very well. Do you like him very much? This shop brought faith to a stand and obliged her, to be sure, to shoe her colors, which she did bravely. Nevertheless, she faced the squire and answered steadily. I like him a good deal, Mr. Statenberg, in some respects very much. Hum, said the squire, as he cut a persuasive piece of duck and put it on her plate. Well, wouldn't you like to tell me, my dear? What do you mean by some respects? That's Mrs. Statenberg's word, and I never could find out yet. I suppose it means different things in different cases, said Faith, smiling. Would you ever, said the squire, taking a general survey of the table, which began with Faith and ended with Mr. Linden. Ain't that half of creation up to anything? I'd tell you what, Miss Faith, if I'd been in that meadow the other day, I'd have made Miss Zepa of the doctor in no time. Sam hasn't learned to put his history in practice yet. And besides, said the squire, with a peculiarly slow, innocent enunciation, he never likes to do anything that would displease Mr. Linden. Mr. Statenberg, said his wife, though she was laughing merrily herself. Can't you be quiet? Faith, why don't you answer me? What, Mrs. Statenberg? Faith turned towards her a face from which, gentle as it was, the smile had disappeared. You play blind man's buff, don't you, dear? When I can, said Faith. The real question, Miss Faith, said Mr. Linden, whose grave unmoved look, unmoved unless by a little fear that she might be annoyed, would have been some help to her during her cross-examination if she had seen it. The real question is whether you are willing to play tonight. I am as willing as can be, said Faith. I don't know whether they'll want to play it, said Mrs. Statenberg, but they may, and Sam's never content unless I'm in the fun, whatever it is. Of course Miss Faith will play, said the squire. She never refuses to please anybody. Mr. Linden said he would, said Sam. But how shall you and I manage, Faith? said Mrs. Statenberg. They'd tell us in a minute by our dresses, as there are only two of us. Faith pondered this difficulty with an amused face. Sam must lend us some of his jackets or coats, Mrs. Statenberg. Our heads are the worst, or mine is. You and Sam might be mistaken for each other. But there'd be no use in Miss Faith's disguising herself, said Sam naively, because she's so sweet. You wouldn't have her disguise that, would you, Sam? said Mr. Linden, laughing. What a boy, said his mother, and what a reflection upon me. Why, I meant her flowers, said Sam, eating all laughs so. I don't mean either that I didn't mean. But what more he meant, Sam left unsaid, which did not much stay the laughter. I will appoint two or three boys to play the part of the pigeon in hawking, said Mr. Linden. Miss Faith might get tired of being caught, if not of running away. How do you know that, Mr. Linden? she said a little archly. Truly, he answered, I know it not, but most things are possible. Even in blind man's buff, and all boys are not provided with silk gloves. But you shall not complain of not being caught, I promise you that. Again, she said with another soft flash of her eye, though now she colored. Don't you understand, Mr. Linden, that I don't intend to let anybody catch me, if I can help it? Miss Faith, I have the most entire confidence in your intentions. Faith kept her energies for action, and said no more. And in a very harmonious temper, the whole party left the dinner table and went back to the fire-lit parlor. All but Sam, who went to be ready for his particular guests in another room. His place was presently supplied by a newcomer. There was a step in the hall. Then the parlor door opened, and a little lady with a shawl round her shoulders came in. Good evening, she said in a very cheery voice. Why, I didn't expect to find so many of you. Is it a party, Mrs. Duttenberg, and shall I go away? Or will you let me come in, now I've got here? Come in, come in, Miss Essie, and make it a party, said the squire, while Mrs. Duttenberg took off the shawl and answered. Go away? Well, of course not. It's only Sam's birthday. You're not afraid of boys, I guess? I'm not afraid of anything, said Miss Essie, and her bright black eyes said it too. Isn't that Mr. Linden? Yes, I thought so, and Faith Derrick, my child, how you're dressed. What sort of a party have you got, Mrs. S? Why, boys, said Mrs. Duttenberg, while Mr. Linden said, Good evening, Miss Essie. You know I am one of them. Are you? I don't know much about you, except I hear say, you know. I am glad you are here tonight. I shall study you, Mr. Linden. Mr. Linden bowed his acknowledgements. Well, you want my help, Miss Essie? She laughed. Come, said she, don't get on too fast. I am beginning to like you already. What are the boys doing, Mrs. Duttenberg? Sam's birthday, did you say? Yes, it's Sam's birthday. I don't suppose they're doing much yet, except coming, said Mrs. Duttenberg. What they will do, no mortal can say. And you'll let them do anything. It must be a nice thing to be a boy with such a mother as Mrs. Duttenberg, Mr. Linden. His yes came readily enough, but was unaccompanied with any other word whatever. Mrs. Duttenberg's do hush was sufficiently energetic, though very low. How old is Sam? was the instant question, as if the whisper had referred to him. Oh, Sam can't get beyond fourteen till he's twenty, said Mrs. Duttenberg, laughing. I suppose by that time I shouldn't care how old he is. I know who thinks he's a handsome fellow, said Miss Essie, shaking her head. And that's not you, Mrs. S. I know he's a smart one, for I pinned a blue ribbon to his coat once. I wonder if he loves me properly for it. Faith Derrick, how come you'd be here, child? Why, because Mrs. Duttenberg asked me, said Faith, answering this sudden address with some surprise. Wrong, said Miss Essie. There's some mistake about it. I've just come from hearing you talked of. Whom did you hear, Miss Essie? said the squire. Come, give up your authority. I was at Judge Harrison's, said Miss Essie, after a considerative look of her black eyes at the squire. And that's all I am going to tell you, Mr. Duttenberg. Mr. Linden, what do you think of the propriety of people's talking about people? I think well of the propriety, when it exists. Well, what do you think of its existence? Honestly now, I want to get at your opinion. I think its existence is rather limited and precarious, Miss Essie, said Mr. Linden, smiling. It is one of those things that may be said to have a delicate constitution. Well, said Miss Essie again, smiling too, both with lips and eyes. How could people get along in such a place as Pate Quasset, for instance, without it? People must talk, and it is so pleasant to know that Mrs. Duttenberg's son Sam is fifteen years old and had a party on his birthday. And that Mr. Linden and Miss Derrick were there and eat roast turkey? And to know that Miss Essie to staff went to New York to get a new carpet for her best room and what the new style is? And that Miss Faith Derrick was run away with and brought home again and went through adventures? How could we do without talking of these things? Now perhaps you will say it's immoral, but I'm in favor of a possible morality. And I say, how could Pate Quasset get along without all this? Pate Quasset could get along without some of the things to start with, said the squire. I don't know what you call pleasant, Miss Essie, but I never was so angry in my life since some rascal told me Mrs. Duttenberg was going to marry somebody else, he added, laughing. But I say, said Miss Essie, how could Pate Quasset get along without talking of these things? And I asked Mr. Linden, I want to know his opinion. I will not say that it could, said Mr. Linden. Miss Essie, you know Pate Quasset better than I do. What do you think there is any harm in talking of them? What do you think of the modern definition of a young lawyer, Miss Essie? A man who is where he has no business to be because he has no business where he ought to be. Miss Essie laughed and laughed. Don't say him get along fast with his reading and writing, Mr. Duttenberg. Always did, said the squire, and with everything else too. What are you talking about? I lost that. I'd gone off to that rascal. Miss Essie's laugh rang out again and her eyes danced. That rascal! Not for shame, Mr. Duttenberg. You know better. I wonder if you never had young horses yourself and took Mrs. Duttenberg to ride, too. Now I like him very much, Mr. Linden. You know Dr. Harrison, don't you? I should, a little. Well, aren't you a judge of character? Do you think he deserves to be called a rascal? The squire, Stoutenberg, prevented the answer. I wish you'd just stop and let me catch up with you, Miss Essie, he said. Now before we go any further, whoever said he was a rascal? I didn't. Did you mean somebody else, Mr. Stoutenberg? That's the way you talk over pleasant things, said the squire. If I hadn't hallowed after you, Miss Essie, I should have had a challenge from the doctor before morning, or a shot. That's getting to be the fashion. Do you think Dr. Harrison is that kind of man, said Miss Essie? Mr. Linden, what kind of man do you think he is? You can tell better than the squire, and I want to know. Miss Essie, he is my friend, and I am his. You cannot expect me to give you Dr. Harrison's components, each with its Latin label on. Not at all. But in general, how would you characterize him, if asked what sort of a man he was? I should perhaps decline. Miss Essie had no chance to push her question, for Sam came with the demand for Mr. Linden himself, which was at once obeyed. A little while passed, and then Mr. Linden came back again, and walked composably round to the back of Faith's chair. Mrs. Stoutenberg, he said, would he let me take this lady away for five minutes? Miss Faith, will you come? Nothing loth, if the truth must be told. Faith rose up to follow his leading, which was out of the parlor and through the hall. Miss Faith, he said as he shut the door. Have you been conjugating the verbs, senor? No, she said, I was amused to hear you and Miss Essie talk. What singular ideas people have on the question of pleasant things, said Mr. Linden. Come in here, Miss Faith, and he opened the door of a mingled library, study room, and office. I want to give you, before we go any further, the whole quotation which I did not dare to give Miss Essie, though it would not have been meant for her, if I had. And he took down one of the books, and read. Her eye, it seems, a chemic test, and drops upon you like an acid. It bites you with unconscious zest, so clear and bright, so coldly placid. It holds you quietly aloof, it holds, and yet it does not win you. It merely puts you to the proof, and sorts what qualities are in you, etc. There you are classified, she's gone, far, far away into herself. Each with its Latin label on, your poor components, one by one, are laid upon their proper shelf in her compact and ordered mind, etc. O brain exact, that in thy scales canst weigh the sun and never air. For once thy patient science fails, when problems still defies thy art, thou never canst compute for her the distance and diameter of any simple human heart. That's comforting doctrine, isn't it? he said, smiling as he put up the book. How good that is, said Faith, as much in the spirit of enjoyment as of criticism. But it isn't just Miss Essie, it's more like she stopped. Well, who? No, it is not Miss Essie. I was going to say Mrs. Summers, but it is not Mrs. Summers either. She is more kind than that. Yes, I think so, though she keeps her kindness under lock and key, like her sweet meets. Miss Faith, shall I give you a loophole view of those boys before you venture yourself among them? She said yes, with a bright face that shooed her primed for any enjoyment, or anything else perhaps, he might propose. He knew the house, apparently, and let her out of one door and in at another, giving her little undertone remarks, by the way. I know you and I agree in some of our notions about pleasant things, he said. Or I should not presume that you would find this one. To some people, you know, boys are mere receivers for Latin and Greek. To me, they are separate little pieces of humanity. I study them quite as much as they do their lessons. Now you shall see them off their guard. This room is dark, but I know the way. He took her hand as he spoke, and let her through the darkness to a spot of shaded light at the further end of the room. Wentz, too, came laughter and voices. Then drew back the curtain from a sash door and let her look in. It was pleasant, as he said. The room was glowing with light, the boys in a knot about the fire, some sitting, some standing, one or two couch-unct upon the rug. Sam was the spokesman just then. The rest listening, interrupting, applauding, the flashing firelight shooing such different faces, such varied indications. They looked like a little Congress of Representatives. What are they doing, Mr. Linden? Sam is having a good time, and all the rest of them for that matter. I am not quite sure what they are doing, Miss Faith. Sam looks as if he might be recounting some of his own exploits for the twentieth time. But Rubin, who never would recount one of his, is five times as much of a man. Yes, I wonder what Miss Essie would say of the two respectively. She means to study me tonight, you know, he said, smiling. And I mean she shall. There comes Mrs. Steltenberg. Now I shall take you in. Not by the sash door, but round again by another way they came upon the little company. Mrs. Steltenberg had been in before, and her reappearance had not made much change in the order of things. But when Faith came in, every boy rose to his feet, and the admiring looks were only bounded by the number of eyes. They fell back right and left as she came on towards the fire, and once seated there in an easy chair, those who knew her came up to pay their respects. Those who did not stood still, and paid them at a distance, whispering and touching each other with, my, ain't she handsome? All of which amused at least two of the lookers on. One or two of the boys Mr. Linden brought up and presented. Faith, however, was presently out of her chair of state, and wound in and out among them, speaking to those whom she knew or remembered at Nenekutt. She was in a little gale of good fellowship by the time Mr. Linden with Miss Essie returned to the room. Well, said Miss Essie, now what's the first order of things? Mr. Linden, these are all your boys, I suppose. These are all, and not all, Miss Essie. Yes, do they always do what you tell them? They are extraordinary boys, said Mr. Linden. Not one of them has a will of his own. Oh, said Miss Essie, what has become of their wills? Have you stolen them? Now I am going to put that to the proof. Sam Stoutenberg, you are not twenty years old yet, your mother says. Have you a will of your own? Mother says I have, replied Sam. Ah, you see, said Miss Essie, you sir, I know you, but I don't remember you. Your teacher says you have a will of your own. Now is it true? I want to know. A will of my own, ma'am? Ruben repeated, looking doubtfully from Miss Essie to Mr. Linden. Against whose, if you please? Well, said Miss Essie, a little surprised and laughing. Upon honor, will you tell the truth? I'll try, ma'am. Against Mr. Linden's, now upon honor, I'll go bail for you. The bail was not needed. Ruben's quiet, no ma'am, and don't want to have. It was very forcible. I declare, said Miss Essie, turning to Mr. Linden, you're a wonderful man. For of course Sam's word is his mother's word, and that's nothing in the circumstances. I wish I had been so happy as to be a boy and go to school to you, Mr. Linden. All my life, my trouble has been a will of my own, and I never found anybody that could deprive me of it. Nor yourself ready to give it up. Of course, but I never could, you know, it was stronger than I. I'll tell you what, said Mrs. Staltenberg, coming up. If you two people want to talk anymore, you've got to stand out of the way. Faith and I are going to have a game with these boys. What sort of game? Why, blind man's buff, said Mrs. Staltenberg. Sam, go to my room and fetch that plaid ribbon that lies on the bed. Now I'll tell you, said Miss Essie, you must play this game as they do it up as Sookyok. Any game wants a steak, you know, Mr. Staltenberg, to make it thoroughly interesting. You must play it this way. Everybody that is caught and found must answer any question the person catching chooses to ask. And if he refuses to answer, he must answer some other question and give a reason for it. That'll make him fly around. In the midst of a little general bustle that ensued, Faith was startled at finding that her rose and myrtle were gone. The next instant, a hand presented them unceremoniously under her face, and an abrupt voice announced, Here's your flowers! It was even Phil Davids who had done it. Faith seized her flowers and then sprang after Phil and thanked him very gratefully, rightly handling this civility as an omen for good. The flowers were next bestowed carefully in a glass of water. To be in safety till the play should be over. Now began the fun of robing and disrobing. The ladies pinned up their silk skirts into order and quiet compass and pulled on over their arms and shoulders whatever boy's gear would fit. Faith was jaunty in a little cloth jacket which covered her arms. Miss Essie wrapped about her a plaid traveling shawl of the Squires. Mrs. Stoutenberg deferred her disguising till she should need it, being in the first place to be the catcher, not the caught. Mr. Linden on his part chose to rely on his own resources for safety, but two or three of the boys tied on shawls and scarves soon discarded in the melee. If Sam's intent was to have a steady game of running, never to produce results unless fatigue and laughter, he had well chosen the first catcher. Mrs. Stoutenberg's powers of entanglement lay not in that line, though she ran about with the most utter goodwill and merriment. But how the boys jumped over her arms, or dived under them, how Sam caught her round the waist and even kissed her, regardless of danger. She might have been playing till this time if Mr. Linden had not interposed and gallantly suffered himself to be caught. We'll have to step round now, I tell you, said one of the boys. This'll be another guess sort of a run. Look out for yourself now, Miss Faith, said Ruben. Both which things were profoundly true and necessary, and Faith soon found out that she was the quarry and that pigeons were of no avail. Whether Mr. Linden had heard her steps about his sick room till he had learned them by heart, whether the theory of spirits touching held good in this case, he gave her a swift little run around the room and shut her up gracefully in the corner. Then with the simplicity which characterized most of his proceedings, disregarding jacket and cap, he took hold of her hand and inquired. Miss Faith, do you consider yourself disguised? The soft laugh which it was impossible to keep back answered to his ear as the flush which overspread face to face answered to eyes of the rest of the company. That will do to begin with, he said as he took off the plaid ribbon, while Mrs. Steltenberg laughed and clapped her hands after her own lively fashion. But Miss Faith, said Sam, don't tie up your head, please. If 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. Steltenberg. 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 ceased and other prize, and her voice exclaimed, Mr. Steltenberg! 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 ribbon. 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. While you won't see round the corner now, he said softly and laughing as he tied on the ribbon, 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. Her Faith ran too well and vanished too skillfully, 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 ribbon, 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 Pate Quasset. The color 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. Come, said that lady. I can't tell you, said Faith, amid the laughter of some of the company, which was enormous. You can't, said Miss Essie. Now you are at my mercy. You have got to tell me something else and give your reason. What do you think is the best profession a man can follow? Anyone is good that is used right, said Faith, looking down and speaking with difficulty. But I suppose the best is a minister's. Why? said Miss Essie, disappointed. Because the business of that profession is to lead man to heaven, that of others is only to fit them for earth. My dear, you're a fine girl, said the squire, willing Faith should say anything that cut out Dr. Harrison. Miss Essie, what do you mean by asking her such a string of questions? How can she tell who's the handsomest man? She wouldn't like to hurt Mr. Linden's feelings by saying me, nor to make us both mad by saying anybody else, if there was anybody else to speak of. You hush, Mr. Stoutenberg, said Miss Essie. Don't you know how to ask questions? Now, Faith Derek, run off with yourself. Faith obeyed with a trifle less than her usual spirit, but the game presently called it back again. Daring about like some gentle-hearted hawk among those flying pigeons, she had seized one boy and another with her usual bad success in the matter of identifying, when the boy suddenly cleared away a little, anxious perhaps that Mr. Linden should be caught again, for of all the players he gave them the most fun. And so effectually did they clear the way, so ineffectually did he protect himself, that the next grasp of Faith's hand was upon his arm and her voice gravely announced that she knew it. Now, Faith, said Mrs. Stoutenberg, do puzzle him if you can, give him a hard question. She does not want to ask me any questions, said Mr. Linden as he untied the ribbon. You forget, Mrs. Stoutenberg, how many she can ask every day. Now, with Miss Essie, the case is quite different. Very quiet and pleasant was the look bent on Faith, very cool and undisturbed of the manner. Miss Faith, are you tired? I must be philosophical enough to inform you that there is a shadow of puss in the corner. And a very plain expression of gratitude was in her eyes and smile as she answered, No, I'm not tired, Mr. Linden, but I would as leave look on as play. That seemed to be the general grown-up mind, but before the looking on had lasted long everybody was called into another room to supper. There the boys were left somewhat to themselves at one end of the table and the half-dozen others stood or sat in the warm fireplace corner at the other. Mr. Linden indeed and Squire Stoutenberg were both boys very often, but their returns to the ladies were frequent and prolonged. Faith was enthroned in a great chair and there petted by Mrs. Stoutenberg while everybody brought her things by turns, a privilege highly prized by some of the boys. Neither could Miss Essie complain of want of attention while Mrs. Stoutenberg and Mr. Linden took laughing care of each other between wiles. Miss Essie, he said as he brought her a cup of coffee, where are you in the pursuit of knowledge? Miss Essie laughed, yet not a triumphant laugh, nor even a satisfied one. It might be considered doubtful. I think, she said, you are one of a sort I don't much understand, Mr. Linden, perhaps because I don't know them much. Aren't you one of what I may call the good sort? Faith's laugh, which was indeed very low but unavoidable, was the first testimony. I hope you may, said Mr. Linden. The words sound pleasant. I am not quite sure what they mean. Ah, there you are again, said Miss Essie, as difficult to catch at other things as at blind man's buff. Well, I'll be frank with you, for I don't mean to offend you. I mean the sort of people who are called rigidly righteous, people who think it incumbent on them to be better than their neighbors. Oh, no, said Mr. Linden. I quite disclaim that. I only think it incumbent on me to be better than myself. Yes, but you are one of the people I mean, aren't you? Not according to that term, Miss Essie. May I ask what you mean by the other? Rigidly righteous? Yes. Why, I told you, people that pretend to be better than people in general. People in general, you know, get on without pretending much to be good at all. And of course, it's disagreeable to be brought short up at every turn with you ought not, and you ought, and whether it is said or acted don't make much difference. Now here's this child a little while ago, thought she mustn't say anything was good but a minister. Do you mean Christians, said Mr. Linden? Well, said Miss Essie, I hope we're all Christians, aren't we? We're not heathens. I mean the followers of Christ. Is that what you meant? I do wear the badge of that legion of honor. Miss Essie looked fidgeted. Faith was letting her ice cream melt while she listened. Mrs. Stoutenberg in the midst of separate table attentions gave an anxious eye and ear to the conference, which she would not interrupt. Well, now tell me what you mean by that, said Miss Essie, feeling herself in some confusion, of terms at least. Can I find plainer words? Do you know what was meant by a follower in the old feudal times? No, I don't, said Miss Essie, beginning to sip her coffee again. Tell me. A follower was one who, binding himself to the service his Lord required of him, henceforth, paid it, in peace or in war, to the end of his life. And the terms of agreement were twofold, fidelity on the one side, protection on the other. They follow me, says Christ, and I give unto them eternal life. Yes, but, said Miss Essie, do you think it is required that we should put ourselves so much out of the way to be good? I think people were meant to enjoy themselves. I enjoy myself, said Mr. Linden, smiling a little. What think you makes the lark fly, circling up into the very sunbeams, singing as the lie goes? Is it duty? Is it to rise above the robins and sparrows? I don't understand you, said Miss Essie respectfully. That is just the inner life of many a Christian. His very heart-cry is, nearer my God to thee, nearer to thee, even though it be a cross that raiseth me. Well, you think nobody can be safe that don't live just so, persisted Miss Essie. In whom such a life is not at least begun? How can it be, Miss Essie? Safe without the blessing of God? Well, there we differ, said the lady. That's what I mean by being rigidly righteous. I think everyone must judge for himself. A little more erect Mr. Linden stood, drawing himself up slightly. It was his want sometimes under a touch of excitement and spoke with his deep emphasis these words. This is life eternal to know thee, the only true God and Jesus Christ whom now hath sent. Miss Essie, where is your permit for free judgment against the Bible? I didn't mean that, said Miss Essie, lowering her crest. But I mean that everybody can't be good after your strict way. I am not standing up for myself, you know, said he pleasantly, nor denying that you have described me right. But what a follower of Christ ought to be is no more rigid than sunlight or than the wings of angels. John and angels always do his commandment. Who made them both? Oh, people can't be sunlight, nor angels neither. In this world, you're utopian. That's what I said. They can be burning and shining lights, said Mr. Linden. Miss Essie, will you gain say the Bible? Why can they not? They can be, but I suppose they aren't obliged to be. Or what is to become of us all, said Miss Essie, seriously, half defiantly. That will depend upon whom we follow, he answered gravely. Well now, Mr. Linden, how many people in the world are followers in the way you have described them? And are all the rest going to destruction? Take the people in this room now, for instance. Boys and all, here's twenty of us perhaps. How many do you suppose are here of your way of following? You're one, who's another. Stand off there and see whom you can get to join you. Stand off and say with Moses, who was on the Lord's side, there would be several, Miss Essie. Well, count up, said Miss Essie. I suppose they have no objection to shoe themselves. You are one, who's another? I am another, said Faith, rising and setting down her ice cream. You, said Miss Essie, turning the black eyes upon her, you look like a child. You must put the rigid out of your head, Mr. Linden said, with a smile which changed as he spoke. Well, who else, said Miss Essie, for some reason or other in an impatient temper. Tell them your definition, will you, and ask who will stand by you. Mrs. Steltenberg, make them all stop and attend. If I ask them, you may think they come to please me. No, no, you know how to say it. Mr. Steltenberg, boys, listen. I want to know how many there are here of a particular kind of people. Mr. Linden will tell you what kind. He spoke, then, as Faith had once or twice heard him speak, sending his voice through the room almost without raising it. Miss Essie to staff wishes to know how many there are here of a particular kind of people, those that have sworn unto the Lord and will not go back. Whoever is of that number will please come over to this side. There was a little astonished pause. Mr. and Mrs. Steltenberg, just then, at the further end of the room, had moved at Miss Essie's summons, but stopped short at the first sound of Mr. Linden's voice, and looked in a sort of maze. He, clearly, was not justing. That was all they could make out. That, too, the boys saw, but for a minute they stood like statues. Then Rubin stepped from the group and walked quietly, deliberately, over to where Mr. Linden stood, the covenants signing in his face, glowing with the free church addition, until death. One and another followed him, one after another. Faith was surprised to see how many, ranging themselves about Mr. Linden, but something in it all touched him, stirred him, something perhaps personal to himself and them. For after the first three or four had come, he looked no more, his eyes fell, and the firmly compressed lips could not quite conceal their trembling. He stood as statue-like as the boys had done. In the interest of a moment and a scene, that she never forgot, it was a simple thing that Faith lost thought of her own standing. Perhaps Miss Essie shared her oblivion of self for that minute. Her look of uneasy curiosity changed to a sobriety that was almost all. Perhaps self-recollection came back, for after eyeing the dumb show with uncommonly blank black eyes, both they and she suddenly started into action. That will do, she said with voice and gesture. You may go back, scatter and be boys again. Mr. Linden, what I complain of is that you say you are on the Lord's side and that everybody else is not. His thoughts came back slowly, as from some far distant region he even turned to Faith and wheeled up a chair for her before he answered. No, Miss Essie, there's last words I believe I never said, but the Lord knoweth them that are his, that each one have answering knowledge for himself. Miss Essie's look was not comfortable. She abandoned the point in hand and swallowed her cold coffee. What are you talking about? said Mrs. Stoutenberg, coming up to them. What sort of a game was that, Miss Essie? Nothing, said Miss Essie. I said I was studying Mr. Linden, and I have. I've found out two things about him. I wonder if he's been studying too, said Mrs. Stoutenberg. What are the two things, Miss Essie? Your coffee's just as cold as Faith's ice is warm. That comes of talking when you ought to be eating. Mr. Linden, just help Mr. Stoutenberg with that little table, please. And I'll have the coffee pot here and be comfortable. And I shall tell Miss Essie a story about fishes, said Mr. Linden, as he obeyed. Mrs. Stoutenberg sat down behind her coffee pot while the gentleman went back and forth between the two tables, bringing cups and cake and what else was needed for this German coutillion, as Mr. Linden called it. During which interlewed Miss Essie, after taking an observant view of Faith, gave her a significant private admonition that somebody would not like her being there. Faith in vain endeavored to get some light on this dark information. Miss Essie was startling but enigmatic and suddenly turned from her and asked Mr. Linden, what was the story he had promised? Not much of a story, though I called it one. It has to do with the way different races of fishes wear their bones. Well, said Miss Essie using her eyes while Faith forgot her flushed cheeks and used hers. You are perhaps aware, he said, smiling, that even fishes have their inflexible points. In other words, a region of bones somewhere. Miss Essie bowed her head, mentally ejaculating. You have. And all the fossil tribes, as well as those which now exist, are divided into two great classes. Those which wear their bones on the outside and those which wear them within. The first have a perfect plate armor, jointed and fitted and carved, piece by piece, but the inner framework is merely cartilaginous. The others, while they shoo nothing but pliant flush, have an internal structure of bone which can outlast ages. Curious, said Miss Essie, lying him all the while carefully, then I suppose we are all fishes. I was thinking, apropos to our talk a while ago, of the intangible unseen nature of a Christian's strength. The moment his defense is worn on the outside, that moment there is a failure of strength within. His real armor of proof is nothing more rigid, Miss Essie, than the girdle of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. Very good armor, said Miss Essie, but can't he wear it without being unlike other people? Can he? Look here, said Squire Stoutenberg. What have you been about? If you have been studying anatomy, Mr. Linden, I'll go learn dancing, and the conversation diverged. End of Chapter 31 Chapter 32 of Say and Seal This is a LibriVox recording, while LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Kay Hand. Say and Seal by Susan Warner. Chapter 32 Faith pondered probably Miss Essie's enigmatic words, but she said nothing on the subject even to her mother. Other people's words and looks had produced their share of disturbance at the time, disturbance that Faith did not like to recollect, and she would not recollect it, practically. It left no trace on her face or behavior. The simplicity of both, unchanged in a wit, testified for her that her modesty would not take such hints from other people's testimony, and that there was no folly in her to be set fluttering at the suggestion. The next Wednesday morning was one of great promise, fair and soft and quiet, with November's sunshine softening November's brown dress. I think, Miss Faith, Mr. Linden said before he went off after breakfast, that you should take a short run or two before you try that long one to matibesit. A run, Mr. Linden, didn't I have one last night? Truly, yes, but I mean on horseback. Will you take such a one today? Yes, said Faith, looking different things, especially pleasure. But Mr. Linden, I don't know where I am to get a horse. Crap, can't go now. Well, as I am to play the part of Paige and run by her side, said Mr. Linden, I am rather glad he can't. No disrespect to his other good qualities. When will you be ready, Miss Faith? The hour fixed upon had need to be early for the days were short, so though books had a little time after dinner, it was but a little. Then the horses came, and Mr. Linden took Faith in charge with words from her mother that might have been very useful if they had been needed, which in his case they hardly were. A fact which his reply, or the manner of it, seemed to impress upon Mrs. Derek's mind, for she saw them right off with nothing but pleasure. Other people saw them with a variety of emotions. All the boys they met, except Sam, looked unqualified to light. From her window Mrs. Stoutenberg gave them a gay wave of her hand. Miss Bezac on the sidewalk absolutely turned to look again. They rode leisurely upon the grassy road, hardly beyond a walk at first, and it was not till the houses grew few and the road more open that Faith had her promised run, which was but an easy trot after all. You must begin very gently, Miss Faith, said her companion as they walked their horses up a little hill. Look how those top sails mark the waterline. Yes, don't you like to see the white sails peeping over the trees? I always do. But Mr. Linden, I don't get tired easily. You needn't be afraid. I can go just as fast as you like. She looked enough in the mood. You know I am interested in the matter. If I should come home tomorrow and find you gone to sleep at midday, I should lose my French lesson. Now you may have another run. This run was rather a long one, yet came to an unexpected end for turning a woody point in the road the two riders saw a wagon before them, so directly in their way that the run changed to a walk even before they perceived that the wagon was in distress. Some bit of harness, some pin had given way and the driver had dismounted to repair damages. But moody or intent upon his work, Faith's horse was close upon him and then she saw it was Squire Deacon. He looked down again as suddenly, with only a slight motion of his hand to his hat. Faith's first impulse would have been to rush on, but she checked that. Her next would have been to wait and leave somebody else to speak first, but she overcame that too. So it was her very clear gentle voice that asked, Are you in trouble here, Mr. Deacon? The Squire had no time to give his answer and scarce a moment therein to concoct it, for Mr. Linden had dismounted and now came between Faith's horse and the wagon with. What is the matter, Squire Deacon? Can I help you? The Squire looked upon them full with a face that darkened as he looked. It's you, is it? He said slowly. I thought it was Dr. Harrison. Can I help you? Mr. Linden repeated, and the tone was a little peremptory. Slowly the Squire told the damage. The broken harness, the lost linchpin, and let Mr. Linden take the first out of his hands and do with it what he chose. Looking on the while, then by degrees taking hold himself and working with him as with any other man, but throwing off jealously the kindness of his helper's words or manner. It was a grave kindness, certainly, but it did not belie the name. Faith sat looking on. After a while her voice broke the silence. Did you say a linchpin was wanting, Mr. Deacon? There's one gone. I should like to be doing something to help. Will you lend me your knife, Mr. Deacon? And I'll try. But that brought a hand on her bridle. I cannot trust your horse out of my sight, Miss Faith. I will get what is wanting. There's no use in anyone's doing anything, said Squire Deacon by way of a settler, and the harness work went on in silence. Faith waited a little. I am not the least afraid, she said then, leaning over her horse's neck, but speaking no name. There's a place only a little way back where I think I can get a linchpin if anybody will lend me a knife. Please let me go and be doing something I want to go. This cord, said Mr. Linden taking one up from the bottom of the wagon, is it wanted for any special purpose, Squire Deacon? I guess if you ask Joe he could tell you, said the Squire with a glance that way, it was good for something, but he's tied it in forty knots, just to see if I'd be full enough to pick him out. It would be very useful about this harness, said Mr. Linden. Will you try and get rid of the knots? And he handed Faith the cord with a smile which said she must make that do instead of the linchpin. Which Faith did not particularly like, for she had a strong hankering on her horses. She dropped the bridle upon her horse's neck and began to exercise her patience and skill upon the knots. I wish I had a knife, she said as she did so, and I'd chew you that I'm not afraid. And a little color rose in her face which rather grew. That's easy, said Squire Deacon looking suddenly up and extending his hand. Here's one as I'll cut through most things. Mr. Linden's head was bent over the harness, and her hand stirred from his work. Thank you, Mr. Deacon, said Faith, feeling the blood rise to her brow, but I won't go for it now. I'll do this first. In her confusion, Faith did not see another person that joined the group till he was standing on her horse's side. What sort of a bee are you getting up here on the highway? said Mr. Simlins in his good-humored growl, and he had a variety. What are you doing on horseback? There's harness to be mended here, Mrs. Simlins, and I'm making rope for it. You go long, said he. Who are you making rope for? Give that to me. But Faith held fast. No, Mr. Simlins, you can't have it. I am bound to get out these knots. There is work doing round here that perhaps you can help. Mr. Simlins stooped under her horse's head and went round to the other side, and then for the first time he got a full view. That's the way you perform actions, he said, seeming too profoundly struck to be at all worthy. Say and seal, I guess you be. What's the matter with you, Squire? If anything is, I hate heard of it, said Mr. Deacon, with a knife lying heavily against his ribs. Mr. Linden's turned harness-maker. That's the last news. Oh, are you there, Mr. Simlins? said the new mechanic looking up from his work. Can't mean more unlikely than you, so the farmer, beginning on his part of the harness. How you come to be here passes all my imagery. That'll do smartly. Where did you learn all trades? I don't see Squire Deacon, but he's as good at Menden as you be at Marion. What do you think? I don't see as one man has much to do with the other, said Mr. Deacon, lucidly. Yes, that will do, said Mr. Linden. Now, Miss Faith, give me that cord if you please, and you shall go after the lynchpin. You'll be done in a minute. I want to finish it. When did you get back from York, Squire? said Mr. Simlins, and what took you away? I ain't here yet. I never believed you were gone for good, though folks said it. Taint generally worthwhile to believe what folks says, replied the Squire. I've been back three weeks, I guess. Shouldn't wonder if I went again, though. Shouldn't wonder if you did, said Mr. Simlins. I would if I was you, if I wanted to. It was a providential thing that you should come along at this idiomatical moment. There ain't another man in Patec Quasset would've done this so good as you. There is another line of business open to me then, said Mr. Linden, who had begun upon the other end of the piece of cord with opposition fingers. What ain't open to you? said Mr. Simlins. Do you know of anything? Give us that cord, will you? Yes, you may have it now, the knots said Mr. Linden, as he pulled the disentangled cord in the hands of Mr. Simlins and himself in the saddle. Now, Miss Faith, you shall have a lesson in linchpin si vu ple. You do beat all, said Squire Deacon, looking up from under his hat with a voice that kept his eyes company. Faith looked very pretty as she turned her horse in obedience to the intimation given her, with a somewhat demure smile and blush upon her face. Mr. Simlins looked, as he inquired, with a different expression. While I guess you're about right, was his answering remark, I do believe he can get the whip hand of most things. He's a say and seal man, he says. To which, however, the Squire deems no response. Stooping over his harness, fingering and fitting, he was silent a little, then spoken a careless, half-inquiring, half-ascending sort of way. What wonders me is why he don't marry that girl out of hand. And down that road as easy as she does down others, what's he waiting for? I guess he hates pitched upon a likely place to settle yet, said Mr. Simlins, in a manner equally careless and devoid of reliable information. Squire Deacon gave a little inarticulate reply. He'd better hurry up, he said. Dr. Harrison's given chase. Is he, said Mr. Simlins. He'll be where the dog was when he chased the wolf. If he's spry, I shouldn't wonder. Oh, you think he's a wolf, do you? said Mr. Deacon. Well, the doctor's chance ain't much the worse of that. Don't look very carnivorous, said Mr. Simlins, but I ain't sure. I wouldn't be so quick in my presumption, Squire. You'll shoot the wrong game one of these days if you ain't already. Think so? said the Squire. Well, I ain't after the game they are, anyway, so it don't matter to me which of them gets her. Most folks like to be the doctor. She seems trying on both by terms. The riders, on their part, had a short run back on the road they had come, to where there was a hedge and thicket and trees together, and Faith's horse being led to close up to the side of the hedge, and she herself provided with a knife. She was free to cut as many lynchpins as she chose. But at this point Faith handed back the knife. I can't do it half so well, she said. I would rather you did it, Mr. Linden. You would rather not do it, he said, looking at her. Is no bread pleasant but that eaten in secret? Faith colored very much. I didn't care about doing it, Mr. Linden, except to be useful and for the enterprise of going off for it by myself. And I didn't care about that more than two minutes. You know I had a charge about you before we came out, he said, but for that, or like one in my own mind, you should have had your enterprise. There, I think that may serve the purpose. The lynchpin being delivered the riders left the stressed wagon behind, and again the free road stretched before them, the soft air and light filled all the way and even the brown tree's stems with pleasantness. The horses felt they had had a rest and pricked up their ears to be in motion again, and the minds of the riders perhaps felt of the like kind. Miss Faith, said Mr. Linden, a German writer says that one should every day redefine poem, look upon an excellent picture, hear a little good music, and if possible speak a few sensible words. Why do you tell that to me, Mr. Linden? I consider it my duty to keep you well informed as to yours. But then, said Faith, who by dint of trotting had into as merry a mood as her gentleness often warm. I hope you will also think at your duty, Mr. Linden, to tell me how I can perform mine, will you? Of course. Please speak a few sensible words to me at once. You begin with the easiest thing, said Faith. Yes, I am generally considerate, but as it is part of my duty to hear a little good music, I am willing you should sing first. Music he had, though not exactly justified sort, for Faith's laugh rolled along the road like the chafing of silver pebbles in a brook. Now for the next part, said Mr. Linden, smiling. I think I have done too much already, said Faith, growing grave. Besides, she added, the corners of her mouth all alive again. I don't remember what the next part is, Mr. Linden. Why, the sensible words. What are the most sensible you could think of anything very sensible on a sudden, Mr. Linden? Is it my duty to do it on a sudden? It might be, Miss Faith. Indeed, I think it is now. What would you like them to be about, Mr. Linden? And I'll try. Nay, you may choose. Sense is of universal application. If I should say what was uppermost, said Faith, it would be. How very pleasant what we are doing now is. Which part? Both parts. Every part. One makes the other more pleasant. And Faith's happy face looked so. Very sensible words, said Mr. Linden, smiling. I agree to them perfectly, which is, you know, in every mind the great test of sense. The picture, Miss Faith, we have before us. Yes, isn't it lovely today, Mr. Linden? And hasn't it been lovely ever since we set out? Except that harness. And I don't think that has hurt anything either. No, I am not sure that even the harness was much the worse. And it has been very lovely. As for the poem, Miss Faith, you cannot be trusted with that. And must resign yourself to hearing it read. What shall it be? I don't know, said Faith. I hardly know any poetry, Mr. Linden, except what I have heard you read. Will you read some? Perhaps, this evening? Yes, every evening, if you like, if we are to follow Gerta's rule. Just before tea is a good time, don't you think so? Yes, indeed, said Faith, whose color rose from pure pleasure, as her thought went back to Legro and Il Penceroso. I don't think there is any time pleasanter for it. But they're all pleasant. I've dropped my whip, Mr. Linden. I will get it for you, he said, checking his horse. If you will promise not to run away. I'm afraid of your enterprising spirit, Miss Faith. But her look at him was a little touched and deprecating. They turned their horses together and went back a few steps. There was no trouble in finding the whip, for it just where it had been dropped, a boy stood holding it on high for Faith's acceptance. The boy was Phil David's. Thank you, Phil, said Faith, surprised and grateful. I see it go out of your hand, said Phil. Yes, said Mr. Linden, whose smile and word of thanks had accompanied Faith's. Phil has singularly quick eyes. They have done me good service before. As they turned again, Farmer David's stood at their horse's heads. They were just at the farmer's door, and he so entreated them to come in and rest that there was no refusing his hospitality. It was large and various, pumpkin pies and cider, much pouring forth of gratitude and admiration for Mr. Linden's success with Phil. What have you done to that fellow? His father remarked admiringly to Mr. Linden. You never see such an alteration in a boy. He used, once it, to talk hard words again you, sir. You wouldn't mind hearing it now, but he's come all about, and lately there's nothing to Phil's mind can equal up to Mr. Linden. He don't say much about it, sir, but he's been at me and his mother this fortnight or two to give him something to make a present to you. The boys do, he says, and he wants the best thing on the farm should go, and so do I, sir, if we knowed once it what would be most favorable. It would be a kindness, sir, as I should be grateful for. If you'd say what would do you most service or be most pleasure of anything that is on the farm, fruit or vegetables or dairy, that's what I mean. Take some pie, Mr. Linden. Some cider, sir? Answering these various questions in demand as best he might, Mr. Linden contrived to convince Mr. Davids that Phil himself was the thing on the farm that he cared most about and his goodwill better than any special manifestation thereof, giving at the same time full and grateful thanks for the other things that had come to him when he was ill. Yes, said Mr. Davids, smiling one of his grim and rare smiles. All that don't help our difficulty, you see. Well, Phil and I'll have to put our heads together. But there's one person who can send nothing that will tell half his good feelings of gratefulness to you, and that's me. And a very unwanted softening of the stern man's eye and brow shooed that he spoke a gentle truth. Kind words answered him. Words of personal kindness and interest and deep pleasure, too. But Mr. Davids knew it was a interest, a kindness, that had each. Like Samuel Rutherford's hope, a face looking straight out unto that day. Truly a city that is set on a hill cannot be hid. And the farmer felt it, and his manner softened, and his interest grew more wistful and intent with every minute they stayed. Faith was on horseback and Mr. Linden about to follow when farmer Davids arrested him with a low remark and question. She's a fine-faced girl, looks pretty and been ashamed of her. Looks good, like he did. Is she going to marry the son of Judge Harrison, sir? Dr. Harrison has told me nothing of the kind. I heard it, said the farmer. I didn't know nothing how it might be. Good day, sir. I hope you'll come again. And they trotted off at last with again the renewed feeling of liberty and pleasure of motion. But the son had descended perceptibly nearer to the horizon than he was when they dismounted. However, there was nothing to do with the ride, for the proposed route was a surrogate, and they were passed to the first half of the way already. That was good, Mr. Linden, said Faith. Which part of it this time? I don't mean the pumpkin pie and the cider, she said, smiling. Do you feel rested? Oh yes, rested and tired too. At least quite ready to move on again. Yes, so am I. But do you know Gerta left out one very important item in his daily interactions? What was that? One should, if possible, every day give someone else a little pleasure. Yes, said Faith, and it's so true and so easy, how much you gave there just now, Mr. Linden. It was rather of their taking than my giving, but, Miss Faith, how necessary is it, nowadays, that each body live uprightly in all manner ways? Yes, Mr. Linden, what are you thinking of? Just that, he said, smiling. A thought of the darkness makes one want to trim the lights. Did you ever notice, Miss Faith, that many things which were written in a mere worldly sense will bear a very sweet Christian application? Take this, for instance. Thus would I double my life's fading space, for he who runs it well runs twice his race. And in this true delight, in these unbought sports, that happy state, I would not fear nor wish my fate, but boldly say each night, to-morrow let my son his beams display, or in clouds hide them, I have lived today. She listened with a bright face at first, then as the quotation was ended her face flushed, she turned her eyes away, and a grave look of sorrow crept over her lips. But in a little while she looked again. Do you care about in your head, Mr. Linden? If I should tell you, Miss Faith, then you would know, and then I could never dilute you any more. Now we must quicken our pace, or we shall scarce get our poem before tea. For a while the trotting was pretty brisk. Then they drew bridal again and went gently on, but now towards the setting sun, whose bright rays were caught and held by the white sails that gleamed here and there in the distance. A cattle driven by some barefooted boy or sun-moneted girl, and plowmen trudged along the road behind their teams. Thicker curls of smoke from wayside chimneys spoke of supper, and where a house stood in the shadow of some bit of forest, lights were already gleaming from the windows. How many things by season seasoned are to their right praise and true perfection. Which bit of excellent eulogy has also been true of Quapal Creek and the bridge over it, which they reached in seasonable time. Quapal Creek was here a little bit of a river, and the bridge over it was an insignificant little bridge, no count in Squire Dean's language. But now, of all times in the year, the little bridge was already full of more than it could hold, literally, for it couldn't hold what was upon it. A heavy farm wagon loaded with some sort of produce had got fairly upon the bridge an hour or two before, and then broken through. Men and teens had for the present deserted it, and there was the way pretty effectually blocked up. What was to be done? They were not more now than a mile or two from home, but to go back and round by the nearest way would be several miles. The water was not very broad nor generally deep, but the banks and the bed of the stream were uneven and strewn with rocks and stones, small and great. It was affordable, certainly. A good rider might cross well enough, but a good rider would scarce choose to trust an unskillful one there. What was to be done? We shall have to go back, Mr. Linden, said Faith, and you mustn't mind my riding fast now, or a mother will be uneasy. Mr. Linden took the case into consideration. Will you mind riding before me, Miss Faith? What, sir? She said, not understanding. Will you let me take you across? How can you, Mr. Linden? She said, looking a little startled and flushing. Very easily, on my horse. Stay where you are a minute and let me try the ford. And not waiting for an answer to that, he rode down the bank and into the stream. It was easy enough for a man who knew what to do with his horse's mouth. Not easy, nor perhaps safe for another. The footing needed to be chosen by the hand of the rider, so chosen was good. Mr. Linden rode to the other side and came back. Will you try, Miss Faith? Yes, she said, putting her horse in motion. I am not afraid. I will follow you. It will be better than going round. But his horse did not stir. I shall not follow you, Miss Faith, and yet if you cross it must be before me. No other way is safe for you. Well, we can go round, can't we? said Faith. As the sun dropped down behind the low horizon and the cool shade fell on everything but the treetops. You know it is about six times as far. Are you afraid of my horse? No, not when you hold him. I will do just what you please, Mr. Linden, she said, though her color mounted. Then do not be afraid of me, he said, dropping his own bridle and gently disengaging the hand from hers. Please take your foot out of the stirrup, Miss Faith. My horse was made in a moment. She was lifted across the little space between the two horses and seated in front of Mr. Linden and held fast. Are you afraid? he repeated, looking gravely down at her. No, sir, not a bit, Mr. Linden, she said, throwing a little more warmth into her words, for the first had been spoken somewhat under breath. So leaving the one horse fastened to a tree branch, the other set forward with his roof, pricking his ears and sidling about with some doubtfulness of intent. But being after all a sensible horse and apprehending the voice in rain suggestions which were made to him, he began to pick his way slowly and carefully among the stones on the bank, and then through the stones in the river, setting down his feet with great judgment and precaution, paying no heed to the rushing and splashing of the little stream except by his ears, which certainly worked for once. Mr. Linden began to lean them, and Mr. Linden dismounted and lifted faith down, and seated her on a grey stone on the bank while he went back for her horse. Witch-crossing it may be observed was accomplished much quicker than the last. The twilight was falling fast, and the little river and the two horses as they forwarded its swift current looked shadowy enough, set off by the white foam on both. The evening wind began its feet, and shook the cedar piles above her head, and so she sat there and watched the crossing. I have had the best picture today, Mr. Linden, she said, when she was placed in the saddle again. You ought to have seen the river, and you and the two horses coming over it in this light as I did. You don't know how pretty it was. Now you'll let me ride fast, won't you? For mother will be looking for us. As fast as you please, but after my picture, he said smiling. Faith profited by the permission given, and put her horse to a pace that proved she was very much in earnest to prevent that looking for them on Mrs. Derrick's part. She got out of the trot into a canter, or her horse did, and then away they flew, too fast to see or be hindered by any more friends or foes till they drew the bridle at home. It was too late to have the reading before tea, so FTS speedily as possible was the next object, and then they adjourned to the fire lit sitting room, where Faith lighted the lamp in uncertainty whether reading or studies was to be the next move. Mr. Linden however went for his book, a little old volume of which Faith had never taken notice, and began without doubt the prettiest description of a garden that was ever written. How vainly men themselves amaze to win the palm, the oak, or bays, etc. The reader paused a moment to tell more particularly what these leafy honors were, and then went on. Fair quiet have I found thee here, and innocence thy sister dear. Mistaken long I sought you then in busy companies of men. You are sacred plants if here below only among the plants will grow. Society is all but rude to this solitude. At which words precisely the spirit of contrarity opened the door and ushered in Dr. Harrison. All he saw was Mr. Linden with a book in one easy chair, Mrs. Derrick with her knitting in another, and a little further off Faith sitting on her low cushion and apparently doing nothing. Probably for that reason the doctor made up to her first. He sat down beside her and inquired in a low tone how the fishes were. Faith answered that they were well, only one of them had been eaten up by the others. You are a little tired and are feeling remarkably well tonight, the doctor went on. What have you been doing? I have been trying to do my duty, Faith said, coloring and laughing. Don't you always do that, said Dr. Harrison, looking at her inquiringly. But I didn't know what it was till today. You are doing what is very uncommon with you, said the doctor, fighting me with my own weapons. His smile was pleasant though acute, but Faith colored exceedingly. I can't tell you exactly what duty I mean, she said, but Mr. Linden can. Do you take your notions of duty from him? Today, said Faith with a smile, sweet and with spirit enough too. I maintain that duties are facts, not notions, said Mr. Linden. Hum, said the doctor turning. Now you are too quick for me. May one not have a notion of a fact? One may. What are your notions about society and solitude? Of duty in those regards? Not at all, your notions of those facts. Confused, said the doctor, incomprehensible, melancholy and distracting. He had got up and assumed the position he seemed to like, a standing place on the rug from whence he could look down on everybody. What do you say to this? Two paradises were in one to live in paradise alone. I suppose that means your notions. No, said the doctor, none unless Eve were the paradise and even then I shouldn't want her any more to myself than to let all the world come and see that she was mine. It is a grave question, said Mr. Linden, whether paradise becomes smaller by being divided. In other words, whether after sharing it with Eve and still retained the whole of it for himself. Just the other way, said the doctor, it was doubled or troubled for in the first place he had Eve, she was a second paradise, then all her enjoyment of paradise was his enjoyment, that was a third and in short I should think the multiplication might go on at infinitum, like compound interest or any other series of happiness impossible to calculate. Simple interest isn't a bad thing, said Mr. Linden. Yes, said the doctor with an answering flash of his eye, but it never contented anybody yet that could get it compound that I ever heard of. Does Ms. Derrick understand arithmetic? Ms. Derrick, said Mr. Linden, how many angels can stand on the point of a darning needle without jostling each other? Don't be deluded into thinking that is arithmetic, said the doctor, that Mr. Linden been persuading you to do today. Mr. Linden can tell, said Faith, which appeal Mr. Linden answered by deliberately finishing his poem aloud for the benefit of the company. What wondrous life is this I lead ripe apples drop about my head the luscious clusters of the vine upon my mouth do crush their wine the nectarine, the curious peach into my hands themselves do reach the fountains as I pass ensnared with flowers I fall on grass here at the fountain sliding foot or at some fruit trees mossy root casting the body's vesticide my soul into the boughs does glide there like a bird it sits and sings then wets and claps its silver wings until prepared for longer flight waves in its plumes the various light etc. The doctor listened faithfully and enjoyingly, but his finishing comment was what a pity it is November no said Faith I think I enjoyed it better than I should in July Russo's doctrine said the doctor or do you mean that you like the description better than the reality it was the reality I enjoyed said Faith what if you got there Linden various old poets bound up together what was that you read Andrew Marvel's garden it is a famous good thing though I confess my soul never glided into the bowels of any tree when my body didn't go along apropos do you like to be on the back of a good horse why yes said Mr. Linden when circumstances place me there will you let me be a circumstance to do it I have an animal of that description with almost the facility of motion possessed by Andrew Marvel's soul will you try can you run said Mr. Linden with comic demiriness fleetly whether away with you depends you know on what I have no knowledge of but I should think not I should like to know beforehand so Mr. Linden in the same tone however is it to be on simple or compound interest doctor I never take simple interest said Dr. Harrison I want all I can get well if I take your horse what will you ride alongside of me that is easily arranged said the doctor smiling this fellow is a newcomer comparatively in a pet of mine I want to know what you think of him when is your next time of leisure my daylight leisure is pretty limited now part of Saturday I could take then you'll hold yourself engaged to me for Saturday morning and I'll hold myself engaged to give you something pleasant to do with it the roads here about are good for nothing but writing you can have the pleasure of motion there isn't much to take your thoughts away from it except emotion if you're another marvel of a man and can send your soul into the bowels as you pass as good as stumbling on melons said the doctor unless your horse stumbles I see his characters coming out by degrees said Mr. Linden smiling he's as sure footed as you are here comes a motion in the shape of my aunt Ellen isn't Mr. Linden a careful man he asked whimsically in a low voice returning to his place by faith the question touched faith's feeling of the ludicrous and she only laughed at the doctor which he liked very well Mrs. Summers errand was to invite the younger portion of the company to spend Christmas evening with her and having succeeded in her mission she made the doctor take her home End of Chapter 32 Chapter 33 of Say and Seal this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information auto-volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Say and Seal by Susan Warner Chapter 33 the week thereafter passed with the usual quiet business of those days Friday evening however when the lamp was lit her books at once Faith took the doctor's station on the rug Dr. Harrison has been here this afternoon Mr. Linden and asked me to go with you and him in the ride tomorrow well Miss Faith I was afraid at first that it might hinder the good of your ride if I went but Dr. Harrison said no and he put it so that at last I said I would but I am afraid of it still how did he put it I don't know said Faith half laughing in a way that left me no excuse as if he thought it would be more pleasurable to you and to him to have me along Miss Faith if you go you must give me leave to keep very near you I trust my own care better than Dr. Harrison's you will understand why I do it Faith did not understand very well I opposed of course Mr. Linden you would be very near I knew mother would not let me go to ride with Dr. Harrison but with you I thought she would not be afraid he looked at her a little doubtfully as if he wanted to say something but whatever it might be it was not what he did say acquired I will try and take care of you Miss Faith which words were afterwards enlarged Miss Faith may I trust that you will not fall behind my fleet horse tomorrow do you mean if he goes very fast said Faith with questioning eyes his speech I'll not put you to any inconvenience indeed it may chance that he will be obliged to go slower than you like in which case Miss Faith I hope your liking will change the doctor came the next day in a gay mood I told you he said I shouldn't be content with simple interest I wanted compound I hope you approve of my addition to our plan so far so good Mr. Linden said smiling they went out and Mr. Linden's first move was towards the horse with the side saddle not with the intention of mounting him however but a more particular, thorough systematic examination of every one strap of his harness that particular horse had never had then Mr. Linden turned and held out his hand to Faith she gave him hers with a facile readiness that quite precluded into position and testified either that she had expected it or had not expected it most probably the latter Dr. Harrison bit his lips but that was a seconds emotion the next step was to dismiss the groom who stood at the horse's head and take that office on himself you are more careful than is absolutely necessary in this case he said smiling this horse miss Faith is the mate I presume of the one Job used to take his exercise upon I chose him for you thinking of Mrs. Derek give stranger to Mr. Linden the last words being a direction to the groom different creature was stranger if it had been the purpose of Dr. Harrison to give his friends so much to do with his own particular affairs that he would have no leisure to bestow on those of other people he had chosen the horse at least well a very fine and beautiful animal he deserved all the praise given him for facility of motion no feet could disdain the ground more daintily no carriage be more absolutely springy and soft but the mischief and spirit of both the runaways combined would not match his case he did not indeed appear to be vicious any further than a most vehement desire to please himself and that in all manner of eccentric ways totally irrelevant to the purpose of getting ahead on the road or serving the will of his rider might be called vice it rather seemed the spirit of power in full play however it were there were no lack of either motion or emotion during the first half mile of the way for strangest manner of getting over so much of the ground was continually either calling faith's blood into her cheeks or driving it out from them they were well matched however the horse and the rider and the spirit of power in equal exercise neither did Mr. Linden seem averse in his play though Stranger presently found that what play he indulged in was clearly matter of concession his name as regarded his rider soon lost its point on the whole the performance came as near as centaur shit declared impossible by Dr. Harrison as most things have in modern times but so far as the doctor had any state depending upon Stranger's antics so far he lost Mr. Linden had never seemed more absolutely at leisure to attend to other people's affairs and had rarely it may be said attended to them more thoroughly than during the springy half mile an occasional pass around the minuet of his companions rather heightened the effect on another score too perhaps the doctor lost for whatever efforts he made or she made it was simply impossible for faith to attend to anything else whatever with the show of consecutiveness but the said horse and his rider an attention sufficiently accounted for in the first place by the startled changes of colour in her face latterly the colour rose and became steady and a little varying play of smile on lip and eye during the third quarter of a mile attested the fact that other emotions had displaced that of fear clearly the doctor had lost upon Stranger how do you like him he said at last speaking across faith who was not good for conversation very much I see you do and he likes you which is to be sure a correlative position as I see he don't fill your hands may I impose upon you the care of my sister we are an uneven number as you are aware and I thought it desirable not to look odd I gave her permission to go with us Dr. Harrison did not see if faith did the tiniest bit of a glance that sought her face while he was speaking but nothing could be easier than the terms in which Mr. Linden declared himself ready to take charge of any number of ladies it was only equaled by strangers bound the next minute how this made one of the party was at this edition of Miss Harrison's company nobody guessed they turned in at Judge Harrison's gate and found Miss Sophie all ready for them but to faith the play was suddenly taken out of the play she and Dr. Harrison set forward to be sure over a pleasant road in delicious weather the doctor was in one of his barmy smooths and though quietly she was very well mounted it was pleasant or would have been pleasant but all the while what was stranger doing behind her that she could not see when in answering some kindly graceful mark of the doctors faith chid herself for ungratefulness and roused herself to give and take what good was in her power the ride was pleasant after that the air in all its calm sweetness was well tasted the barren landscape never barren to faith's eyes was enjoyed at every step her horse went agreeably and the talk between her and Dr. Harrison were interesting and enlivening meanwhile Mr. Linden's horse and his companion were at the antipodes of each other thoroughly good and estimable as Ms. Harrison was she never left the beaten track and stranger never kept in it between the two opposites Mr. Linden amused himself as best he might to do him justice he tried his best to amuse his companion several miles of way had been passed over when in a broad grassy reach of the road the two riders fell back upon the rest of the party faith taking Ms. Harrison's side and the doctor drew up by Mr. Linden how does it go he said good humbly what is the impersonal in this case said Mr. Linden what stranger snorted and bounded and by every means in his power requested the doctor to keep it a distance a conglomerate for which I found no better term you stranger and my sister and the world genuinely stranger is in a sufficiently ardent mood for his share he gives me a fine view of the country said Mr. Linden as the creature brought himself to a tolerably erect position and seemed to like it so well as to be in no hurry to come down and when he did took the precaution to take his hind feet off the ground before the forefeet touched Ms. Faith how does this agree with your ideal of melancholy Faith forgot to answer or thought answers impertinent that horse frightens me out of my wits said Ms. Harrison I have been jumping out of the saddle half the time since I came out sometimes he'll go very quietly as nice as anybody and then he'll play such a caper as he did then that was just because Julius came up alongside of him he had been going beautifully this last mile I wish he'd have nothing to do with such a creature I suppose he's very pleasant to ride said Faith eyeing the creature perhaps stranger with his full wild eyes took note of this look of partial favour where he backed a little from the doctor and came dancing round by Faith and there danced along at her side for a few minutes evidently in an excited state of mind his rider meanwhile gave Faith a quiet word of admonition about keeping so loose a reign and asked in the same half alone if she felt tired oh no Faith said with a look of thanks and pleasure that piece of care I must trust in your hands don't forget that I do so trust it how would you like to cross Corpac Creek on this piece of Quicksilver I don't think you'd like to have me Faith said very decidedly I never saw anything so beautiful quite Mr. Linden that I recollect at this minute she added smiling I want to dance with you today more than I ever did before he answered smiling too Miss Faith if you have not yet said the few sensible words or if you have any left won't you please say them to me that question comes like a constable upon all my senses said Faith laughing and it feels as I suppose a man does clapped on the shoulder but then the man cannot run away you know nor my senses don't said Faith that I know of but it feels as if it hadn't possession of itself Mr. Linden well see if it is equal to this demand what would be the consequences if you and I were to start off and scour the country on our own hook as people say I think our hook would draw two people after us said Faith looking very much amused and a little afraid of being overheard that is a melancholy fact and my self-indulgence needs to be kept in check Miss Faith he said dropping his voice still more stranger regrets very much that he must now go through that figure of the Cotillion called Ladies Change and with a low and laughing bow Mr. Linden reigned back his horse and returned to his former place with all the soboness that circumstance was allowed there was no soboness whatever in the face with which Faith recommends her tet-a-tet with Miss Harrison the doctor was perfectly in order I have been thinking he said since my question of how the world went with you what a very insignificant thing as to extent the world to any one person is compared with the universe said Mr. Linden what sort of a world have you got into said Dr. Harrison somewhat impatiently no the actual extent of your and my consciousness of that field of action and perception which we magnificently call our world what a mighty limited field it is I think you describe it correctly said Mr. Linden it is both mighty and limited a little space railed off for every man and yet larger than that man can ever fill it seems to me too insignificant to be worth filling there is a little outlet on every side that makes it impossible to fill what do you mean I mean that while our action at every step touches other people and their consequent action moves on with like effect the limits of our power in this world can never be known will you think me impertinent if I ask once more what you mean or rather do you to enlarge a little if a man plants the first clover seed or thistle down in some great continent said Mr. Linden from whose little field is it that in a hundred years the whole land bears thistles or clover it won't said the doctor if a hundred other things are sewn at the same time and so it seems to me in life that one action is counteracted by another universally that makes anything or of any avail if nothing is of any avail things don't counteract each other you are proving my position the doctor smiled not unpleasantly I see he said you can maintain any position you choose to take on the ground or in the air I must give way to you on this ground and Dr. Harrison rained back his horse and came into Faith's neighbourhood Miss Derek the road is getting too contracted for such a procession will you draw bridle I don't want to ride behind Dr. Harrison said Faith looking laughingly back at him I'll go on in front which she did so briskly that the doctor had to bestow himself to come up with her I didn't know he said and he spoke somewhat in earnest I didn't know that you cared anything about eminence or pre-eminence didn't you Dr. Harrison do you I don't know said Faith gravely eminence yes I should care very much for that in some things not for pre-eminence I think there's Mr. Simlins and I must speak to him Faith's horse which had been on an easy counter came to a stand and so must the doctor Mr. Simlins too was on horseback Mr. Simlins said Faith after giving him her hand will you have half a day's leisure Monday or Tuesday leisure said the farmer with his best growl no I shan't have it if you take it do you think I may take it I don't suppose there's anybody that can hinder you said Mr. Simlins without accepting my own identity I can't do you want to go up yonder again the doctor interposed to make offers of his father's horses, carriage and servants but Faith quietly negative them all how did you get home the other night said the farmer did you get over the river then shifting his ground as Ms. Harrison and Stranger came up into the group he changed his question I say Mr. Linden I heard Quapor Creek was choked up the other night how did you get home the same way I expect to now said Mr. Linden how did you Mr. Simlins the harness was alright said Mr. Simlins if anything else was in a disorganised state it was somebody's fault besides your own that linchpin made trouble though it didn't fit more places than one did you get across Quapor Creek on your horses do you suppose I crossed on foot said Mr. Linden smiling do you take me for a witch Mr. Simlins I haven't just made up my mind about that said the farmer I have a temptation to think you are what's that you're on only a broomstick in disguise Mr. Simlins as he belongs to Dr. Harrison I am willing to own so much well as well shaped a broomstick as I ever see said the farmer considerably I shouldn't mind putting him in harness well good day I'm glad this girl didn't have to go all round again the other night I was afraid she had I'll take you over creation he sung out after her as they parted company and I'll be along Monday Quapor Creek said Dr. Harrison as the interuptive procession took up its line of march again I think I remember that what was the matter the bridge was broken with a loaded wagon upon it fate explained and you crossed by fording yes isn't it rather a difficult ford if I remember right the bed of the stream is uneven and rough doesn't it require some guiding of the horses I believe so yes it isn't safe for an ignorant rider I didn't give you credit he said looking at her for being such a horsewoman that is quite a feat for a lady faith colored high but she was not going a second time to fight the doctor with his own weapons a very little she hesitated and then she said boldly though not in very bold tones it must be confessed I am not a horsewoman Mr. Linden carried me over the doctor looked very moody for a few minutes then his brow brightened faith straightforward truth had served her as well as the most exquisite piece of involution the doctor could not very well see the face with which her words were spoken she had to make up his mind upon them alone it is so was his settled conclusion she has only a child's friendly liking in him nothing more or she never simple as she is would have said that to me with that frankness moodyness returned to the doctor's brow no more he left quapore creek in the distance and talked of all manner of pleasant things and so with no second break of the order of the march they went on and went home Mr. Linden said faith when she was lighting the lamp for study in the evening you never ask anything of me so hard to do as that was today hard he replied why to keep in front where I could not see you and that horse miss faith I am very sorry but you know I had you in charge I felt bound to keep you in sight I know she said and sat down to her work end of chapter 33