me. That year here ought to have carried
him through his studies."

"Why what can he do?--not teach school now,--he's no time for it."

"He can give lessons--and does. Makes the time, I suppose. You know he
has learned about everything _but_ Theology. Olyphant was telling me
about it the other day."

"What a strange thing!" said the other musingly, "such a family, so
swept overboard! What a house that was! You remember his mother,
George?"

"I should think so!--and the way Endecott used to sing to her every
night, no matter who was there."

"Yes," said the doctor's confrere--"and come to her to be kissed
afterwards. I should have laughed at any other man--but it set well on
him. So did her diamond ring in his hair, which she was so fond of
handling. How did he make out to live when she died?"

"I don't know--" said George with a half drawn breath--a little
reverently too: "I suppose he could tell you. But all that first year
nobody saw him--unless somebody in need or sorrow: _they_ could always
find him. He looked as if he had taken leave of the world--except to
work for it."

"How courted he used to be!"--said the other--"how petted--_not_
spoiled, strange to say. Do you suppose he'll ever marry, George? will
he ever find any one to suit his notions? He's had enough to choose
from already--in Europe and here. What do they say of him off
yonder--where he is now?"

"They say he's--rock crystal,--because ice will melt," said George. "So
I suppose his notions are as high as ever."

"You used to admire Miss Linden, if I remember," said his friend. "What
a ring that was!--I wonder if she's got it. George--I sha'n't walk any
further in this mud--turn about."

Which the two did, suddenly. Both stepped aside out of Faith's way, in
surprise--her light footfall had not made them lower their voices. But
in that moment they could see that she was a lady; in acknowledgment of
which fact the one gentleman bowed slightly, and the other lifted his
hat. Faith had thrown back her veil to hear better what they were
saying, not expecting so sudden an encounter; and as she passed, secure
in being a stranger, gave them both a view of as soft a pair of eyes as
they had either of them ever looked into, which also sought theirs with
a curious intentness, borne out by the high bright tinge which
excitement had brought into her cheeks. Both of them saw and
remembered, for swift as it was, the look was not one to forget. But
the glan