r a minute the sorrowful
look came back to her face. But then it returned to its high quiet; she
kissed her mother and they went up stairs together.

No, he did not come home,--and well assured that he would not, Faith
ceased to watch for him, and fatigue and exhaustion again had their
way. The night was very still--the endless train of stars sweeping on
in their appointed course, until the morning star rose and the day
broke. Even then Faith slept on. But when the more earthly light of the
sun came, with its bestirring beams, it roused her; and she started up,
in that mood where amid quick coming recollections she was almost
breathless for more tidings--waiting, as if by the least noise or stir
she might lose something.

It was then that she heard Mr. Linden come in--even as she sat so
listening,--heard him come in and come up stairs, with a slow quiet
step that would have told her all, if the fact of his coming had not
been enough. She heard his door close, and then all was still again,
except what faint sounds she might hear from the working part of the
house below. Faith sat motionless till she could hear nothing more up
stairs--and then kept her position breathlessly for a second or two
longer, looking at the still sunbeams which came pouring into her room
according to their wont, with their unvarying heavenly message;--and
then gave way--rare for her--to a burst of gentle sorrow, that yet was
not all sorrow, and which for that very mingling was the more
heart-straitening while it lasted. The light of the fair clear Sunday
morning bore such strange testimony of the "everlasting day" upon which
her little charge of yesterday had even entered! But the sense of that
was quieting, if it was stirring.

Not until the breakfast hour was fully come did Mr. Linden make his
appearance; but then he came, looking pale indeed, and somewhat worn,
yet with a face of rest. He gave his hand to Mrs. Derrick, and coming
up to Faith took her in his arms and kissed her, and gently put her in
her chair at the table; waiving all questions till another time. There
were none asked; Mrs. Derrick would not have ventured any; and the
tinge in Faith's cheeks gave token of only one of various feelings by
which she was silenced. Yet that was not a sorrowful breakfast--for
rest was on every brow, on two of them it was the very rest of the day
when Christ broke the bars of death and rose.

Breakfast had been a little late, and there was not mu