the tone of a mind upon
something else. Mr. Linden looked down at her in silence for a minute.

"Dear Faith," he said, "I told you truly that there is no need. This
year's work has done quite as much as I thought it would. What are you
afraid of?"

"I am not afraid of much," she said, looking up at him now with a clear
brow. "But Endy, I have changed my mind about something. Could you
easily come down and read with me a little while every morning?--or are
you busy?"

"I am never too busy to spend time with you, my child,--that is one
piece of pleasure I shall always allow myself. At what hour shall I
come?"

"At six o'clock, can you?" said Faith. "If you gave me a quarter of an
hour then, I should still have time enough for breakfast work. This
morning I was afraid--but I was foolish. This evening I want all I can
get. And when you read me a _ladder of verses_ again," she said
smiling, "I shall mark them in my Bible, and then I shall have them by
and by--when you are gone."

"Yes, and I can send you more. It is good to go up a ladder of Bible
verses when one is afraid--or foolish," he said gently and answering
her smile. "One end of it always rests on earth, within reach of the
weakest and weariest."

"That is just it! Oh Endy," she said, clasping her hands sadly and
wishfully before her and her eyes tilling as she spoke--"I wish there
were more people to tell people the truth!"

CHAPTER XV.

It was a fair, fair May morning when Mr. Linden and Faith set forth on
their expedition to Kildeer river. After their early rising and early
breakfast, they took their way down to the shore of the Mong, where the
little sail-boat lay rocking on the incoming tide, her ropes and
streamers just answering to the morning breeze. The soft spring
sunlight glinted on every tree and hillside. The "Balm of a Thousand
Flowers"--true and not spurious--was sprinkled through the air, under
the influence of which unseen nectar the birds became almost
intoxicated with joy; pouring out their songs with a sort of
spendthrift recklessness,--the very fish caught the infection, and
flashed and sparkled in the blue water by shoals at a time.

In the sailboat now stood baskets and shawls, a book or two, an empty
basket for wild flowers, and by the tiller sat Faith--invested with her
new dignity but not yet instructed therein. Mr. Linden stood on the
shore, with the boat's detaining rope in his hand, looking about him as
if he had a m