"Perfectly well, dear Pet."
"Turn round to the light and let me see--You"ve grown, thin, child!"
He laughed--giving her a kiss and embrace to make up for that; which was only half successful. But she spoke in her former tone.
"He looks pretty strong, Faith,--I think I might tell him."
"Mr. Linden," said Faith, "won"t you please ask Pet not to tell you something?"
"I will ask _you_," he said softly, laying his hands lightly on her shoulders. "Faith--I think we may dispense with "Mr. Linden" _now_, even before people."
She was oddly abashed; glanced up at him and glanced down, with the grave air of a rebuked child. There was nothing about it that was not pretty; and the next thing her eyes went to Pet. How lovely and precious she looked as she stood there! with her sweet shy face and changing colours. Mr. Linden held her to his breast and kissed her more than once,--but in a way that was beyond chiding.
"Why must I ask Pet not to tell me something?"
"It is nothing great!"--said Faith stammering over her words--"Only you won"t like it very well--but you will have to hear it. I thought another time--that"s all."
"He"ll never hear it from you--what I mean," said Miss Linden, "so he shall from me. We"ll see whether he likes it. Know then, Endecott, that I found this child absorbed in wedding dresses!"
"Wedding dresses!" he repeated. "More than one?"
"Oh Endy," said his sister with a sort of laughing impatience, "what a boy you are! I mean other people"s." Faith stood smiling a little, letting her manage it her own way.
"Imagine it," Miss Linden went on,--"imagine this one little real flower bending over a whole garden of muslin marigolds and silk sunflowers and velvet verbenas, growing unthriftily in a bed of white muslin!" Mr. Linden laughed, as if the picture were a pleasant one.
"Mignonette," he said,--"how could you bear the sight?"
"I was trying to make the best of it."
"In whose behalf were you so much interested?"
"Maria Davids," said Faith glancing up at him. "But I was _not_ interested,--only so far as one is in making the best of anything."
"Who is trying to make the best of her?"
Faith looked down and looked grave as she answered--"Jonathan Fax." Mr.
Linden"s face was grave too, then, with the recollections that name brought up.
"There is one place in the house she cannot touch," he said. "Faith, I am glad she is not to take care of _him_."
"I have thought that so often!"
"Do you like my story, Endy?" said Miss Linden presently.
"Very much--the subject. I am less interested in the application. Who next is to be married in Pattaqua.s.set?"
"I don"t know."--
"Aunt Iredell says she wishes _you_ would be married here," observed Pet demurely. To which insinuation Faith opposed as demure a silence.
"Oh Endecott," said his sister changing her tone and speaking in that mixed mood which so well became her,--"I"m so happy that you are here!
This week Faith has been pretty quiet, by dint of being away from home; but nothing would have kept her here next week--and I had been thinking what we should do,--if the week should run on into two--or if the wind should blow!" She spoke laughingly, yet with a voice not quite steady.
""So he bringeth them to the haven where they would be"!" Mr. Linden said. But his voice was clear as the very depth of feeling of which it told. "Aunt Iredell cannot have her wish, Pet," he added presently,--"there would be at least three negative votes."
"I suppose that! But I shall come down Sat.u.r.day to hear what wishes _are_ in progress."
"Won"t you go with us, Pet, to-morrow?" said Faith earnestly. She had been standing in a sort of abstracted silence.
"No, pretty sister, I will not. But I shall keep all those ruffles here to finish, and Sat.u.r.day Reuben Taylor shall escort them and me to Pattaqua.s.set."
CHAPTER x.x.xIX.
Things were yet in their morning light and shadow when Faith set off on this her first real journey with Mr. Linden. She felt the strangeness of it,--in the early breakfast, the drive alone with him to the station,--to stand by and see him get her ticket, to sit with him alone in the cars (there seemed to be no one else there!) were all new. The towers of Quilipeak rose up in the soft distance, shining in the morning sun: over meadow and hillside and Indian-named river the summer light fell in all its beauty. Dewdrops glittered on waving grain and mown gra.s.s; labourers in their shirt-sleeves made another gleaming line of scythe blades, or followed the teams of red and brindled oxen that bowed their heads to the heavy yoke. Through all this, past all this, the Pequot train flew on towards Pattaqua.s.set; sending whole lines of white smoke to scour the country, despatching the shrill echoes of its whistle in swift pursuit.
Faith saw it all with that vividness of impression which leaves everything sun-pictured on the memory forever. In it all she felt a strange "something new;"--which gave the sunlight such a marked brilliancy, and made dewdrops fresher than ordinary, and bestowed on mown gra.s.s and waving grain such rich tints and gracious motion. It was not merely the happiness of the time;--Faith"s foot had a little odd feeling that every step was on new ground. It was a thoughtful ride to Pattaqua.s.set, though she was innocently busy with all pleasant things that came in her way, and the silveriest of tones called Mr. Linden"s attention to them. He did not leave her thoughts too much chance to muse: the country, the various towns, gave subject enough for the varied comment and information Faith loved so much. Mr. Linden knew the places well, and their history and legends, and the foreign scenes that were like--or unlike--them, or perhaps a hayfield brought up stories of foreign agriculture, or a white sailing cloud carried them both off to castles in the air. One thing Mr. Linden might have made known more fully than he did--and that was his companion. For several times in the course of the morning, first in the station at Quilipeak, then in the cars, some friend or acquaintance of his own came to greet or welcome him. And Faith could see the curiosity that glanced at so much of her as her veil left in view,--Mr. Linden saw it too, with some amus.e.m.e.nt.
And yet though all this was a little rouging, it was interesting to her in another way,--shewing her Mr. Linden as she had never seen him, among the rest of the world,--giving her little glimpses of his former life; for the bits of talk were sometimes quite prolonged.
"Mignonette," he said after one of these occasions, "some people here are very anxious to make your acquaintance."
"I am glad you don"t want to gratify them."
"Why?--In the first place, I do."
"Do you!"--said Faith, somewhat fearfully.
"Certainly. I, like you, am "a little proud of my carnations". How do you like this way of travelling?"
"I like it such a morning as this," said Faith. "I don"t think it"s the pleasantest. But to-day it"s delicious."
"Yes--to-day," he repeated. "What way of travelling do you like best?"
"You know I never travelled at all, except to Quilipeak and Pequot. I believe I like a wagon or a sleigh better than this,--in general."
"That is our last whistling post!" said Mr. Linden "Faith, I shall be glad to get rid of that veil. And I have so many things to say to you that cannot be said here. Is Mr. Somers in Pattaqua.s.set still?"
"Everybody"s there--" Faith answered.
The little shake of the head with which this intelligence (so far as regarded Mr. Somers) was received, Faith might understand as she pleased, for in another minute they were at the Pattaqua.s.set station; the train was puffing off, and she standing there on the platform with Mr. Linden. A little way back was Jerry and the wagon--that Faith saw at a glance; but there too, and much nearer, was Squire Stoutenburgh--in doubt whether to handle the new corners separately or together, in his great delight.
From all this Mr. Linden rescued Faith with most prompt skill; carried her off to the wagon, shook hands with Dromy and dismissed him, and then with the reins in his own hands had her all to himself once more.
And Jerry dashed on as if he knew his driver.
"Mignonette, please put back your veil," were the first words. Which Faith did, and looked at him, laughing, blushing and a little shy, all in one pleasant combination.