ter pain; so cared for and
guarded. She could almost have gone to sleep to the tinkle of Jerry's
bells; only that her spirit was too wide awake for that and the
pleasure of the time too good to be lost. She had not all the pleasure
to herself--Faith could feel that, every time Mr. Linden spoke or
touched her; but what a different atmosphere his mind was in, from her
quiet rest! Pain had quitted her, but not him, though the kinds were
different. Truly he would have borne any amount of physical pain
himself, to cancel that which she had suffered,--there were some
minutes of the ride when he would have borne it, only to lose the
thought of that. But Faith knew nothing of it all, except as she could
feel once or twice a deep breath that was checked and hushed, and
turned into some sweet low-spoken word to her; and her rest was very
deep. So deep, that the stopping of the sleigh at last, was an
interruption.

The moment Jerry's bells rang their little summons at the door, the
door itself opened, and from the glimmering light Reuben ran out to
take the reins.

"Is Mrs. Derrick up?" Mr. Linden asked, when the first inquiry about
Faith had been answered.

"I don't know, sir. I told her you wore afraid Miss Faith would take
cold without a fire in her room--and she let me take up wood and make
it; and then she said she wasn't sleepy, and she'd take care it didn't
go out. I haven't seen her since."

"Thank you, Reuben--now hold Jerry for me,--I shall keep you here
to-night," Mr. Linden said as he stepped out. And laying his hand upon
the furs and wrappers, he said softly,--"Little Esquimaux--do you think
you can walk to the house?"

"O yes!--certainly."

A little bit of a laugh answered her--the first she had heard since
Campaspe; and then she was softly lifted up, and borne into the house
over the new-fallen snow as lightly as if she had been a snowflake
herself. The snow might lay its white feathers upon her hood, but Faith
felt as if she were in a cradle instead of a snow-storm. She was placed
in the easy chair before the sitting-room fire, and her hood and furs
quickly taken off. "How do you feel?" Mr. Linden asked her.

She looked like one of the flakes of snow herself, for simplicity and
colour; but there was a smile in her eyes and lips that had come from a
climate where roses blow.

"I feel nicely.--Only a little bruised and battered feeling, which
isn't unpleasant."

"Will you have anything?--a cup of tea?--t