aith mentally counted the months, in haste, with a pang; but the
silence did not last long this time. Her head left its resting place
and bending forward she looked up into Mr. Linden's face, with a sunny
clear look that met his full. It was not a look that could by any means
be mistaken to indicate a want of other feeling, however. One might as
soon judge from the sunshine gilding on the slope of a mountain that
the mountain is made of tinsel.

"Endecott--is that what has been the matter with you?"

She needed no answer but his look, though that was a clear as her own.

"I could easier bear it if _I_ could bear the whole," he said. "But you
can understand that Dr. Harrison's proposal tried, though it did not
tempt me."

She scarce gave a thought to that.

"There is one thing more I wanted to ask. Will there be--" she paused,
and went on,--"no time at all that you can be here?"

"Dear Faith!" he said kissing her, "do you think I could bear that? How
often I shall be able to come I cannot quite tell, but come I
shall--from time to time, if I live. And in the meanwhile we must make
letters do a great deal."

Her face brightened. She sat quietly looking at him.

"Will that shadow come any more,--now that you have told me?"

"I will give you leave to scold me, if you see it," Mr. Linden said,
answering her smile,--"I ought not to be in shadow for a minute--with
such a sunbeam in my possession. Although, although!--do you know,
little bright one, that the connexion between sunbeams and shadows is
very intimate? and very hard to get rid of?"

"Shall I talk to you about 'nonsense' again?"--she said half lightly,
resting her hand on his arm and looking at him. Yet behind her light
tone there was a great tenderness.

"You may--and I will plead guilty. But in which of the old classes of
'uncanny' folk will you put me?--with those who were known by their
having no shadow, or with those who went always with two?"

"So I suppose one must have a _little_ shadow, to keep from being
uncanny!"

"You and I will not go upon that understanding, dear Faith."

Faith did not look like one who had felt no shadow; rather perhaps she
looked like one who had borne a blow; a look that in the midst of the
talk more than once brought to Mr. Linden's mind a shadowy remembrance
of her as she was after they got home that terrible evening; but her
face had a gentle brightness now that then was wanting.

"I don't know"--she said wistful