spoken which parted them, it would probably have been a confession that
she did not understand, or a request for more light. But if her face
did not say it for her she did not say it for herself.

If anybody could have seen Mrs. Derrick's face while these little
sentences went back and forth, he would have acknowledged it was worth
the sight. Her awe and admiration of every word uttered by the
stranger--the intense interest with which she waited for every word
spoken by Faith--the slight look of anxiety changing to one of perfect
satisfaction,--was pretty to see.

"Faith," she said when tea was over, and her guest had walked to the
front door to take another look at 'space,' "Faith, don't you think he
liked his supper?"

"I should think he would--after having no dinner," said Faith.

"But it was such a mercy, child, that you hadn't gone out to supper
anywhere--I can't think what I should have done. There's Cindy this
minute!--run and tell her to go right away and find out what his name
is--tell her I want to know,--you can put it in good words."

"Mother!--I'd rather ask him myself."

But that did not suit Mrs. Derrick's ideas of propriety. And stepping
out into the kitchen she despatched Cindy on her errand. Cindy
presently came back from the front door, and went into the dining-room,
but not finding Mrs. Derrick she handed a card to Faith.

"It's easy done," said Cindy. "I just asked him if he'd any objections
towards tellin' his name--and he kinder opened his eyes at me and said
no. Then I said, says I, Mis' Derrick do know, and she'd like ter.
'Miss Derrick!' says he--and he took out his pencil and writ that. But
I'd like to know _what_ he cleans his pencil with," said Cindy in
conclusion, "for I'm free to confess I never see brass shine so in my
born days."

Faith took the card and read,--

JOHN ENDECOTT LINDEN.

She looked a little curiously at the pencilling, at the formation of
the capitals and of the small letters; then laid it down and gave her
attention to the dishes of the supper-table.

CHAPTER II.

The next day was Saturday. The morning opened with grey clouds,
covering the sky, but which were light and light-broken and promised to
roll away entirely as soon as the sun should reach a commanding
position in the heavens. The sun however was still quite distant from
such a position, in fact was not much more than an hour high, when
Lucinda, who was sweeping the front door steps, wa