pleased with me," said Johnny simply. "But I wasn't
brave, ma'am,--I was frightened." Then in a lower tone, as if he were
telling a great secret, Johnny added,

"I'm coming to you next Sunday if it's cold weather"--and looked up in
her face to see the effect of this mysterious announcement.

"You, Johnny!" said Faith, with a flash of remembrance of the time she
had last seen him, which made her almost sorrowful. "Well, dear--we'll
do the best we can," she added in a tone which was sweet at least as
tenderness could make it. The child looked at her a little wistfully.

"Mr. Linden says he don't think I'm big enough to keep warm out of
doors any more," he said with childish inexplicitness.

"I don't think you are," said Faith. "Well, Johnny--you come to me next
Sunday, and we'll try!"--And she gave him, what Sam Stoutenburgh would
probably have mortgaged his life for,--a soft touch of her lips upon
his cheek. And Sam Stoutenburgh was not far off.

"Miss Faith!" he said as she rose to her former position,--"stand out
of the way, Johnny, there's a good boy!--mayn't I see you home
to-night? Please don't refuse me everything!"

"There isn't room in the wagon, Sam," said Faith.

"Are you going to ride?" said Sam. "But I may go with you to the wagon?"

"Yes if you like," said Faith looking a little puzzled and amused. "I
suppose you may."

"Are there any more to come?" said Miss Bezac, whose patience had
outlasted that of Dr. Harrison,--"because if there are, I'd rather
wait--I don't like to be stopped when once I begin. And if I was you,
Faith--(how pretty you look!)--I'd keep still and not let my head be
turned; the old direction's the best; and after all directions are more
than dresses. For what's the odds between an embroidered vest and a
plain one? Not that it's much to embroider it--I used to fiddle faddle
many a one, till I lost my eyes; and I'll teach you to do it in a
minute, if you like." With which kind and lucid proposal, Miss Bezac
put her hand softly on Faith's waist and smoothed out an imaginary
wrinkle in the white dress.

"Dear Miss Bezac," said Faith, not losing her amused look,--"I don't
want to embroider waistcoats. What are you talking of?"

"I know--" said Miss Bezac, "and I suppose that's enough. If folks
don't know what you mean they can't say anything against it. But you
don't know what you want, child,--any more than I did. And do you know,
sometimes I wish I'd never found out? But wheneve