very much to see. Mrs. Derrick
(with a little shadow of recollective sorrow) had placed the old Bible
by the lamp, and now sat leaning her head on her hand and did not look
up as they came in. Faith's face was one of grave joy; but the gravity
was so quiet that the joy was beyond the ken of so dull a vision as
Cindy's. She sat with clasped hands on a low seat beyond the fire. And
Cindy at last fixed her attention upon Mr. Linden, with only an
occasional roll of her eyes towards Mr. Skip.

It was a long time since such a service had been in that house,--a time
at first swept by a storm of sorrow, then calmed and quieted into a
stillness which had grown more and more bright, year by year. Whatever
sunshine those years had seen, came from Faith; but that other faith,
which should make even her more precious, had been unknown. And the
words of the reading and prayer to-night, were to Mrs. Derrick like the
renewing of things so long past, that she could scarce bear it; and
different as Mr. Linden was from any one she had ever known, that
Christian family likeness almost, to her feeling, transformed him.

It was a very simple matter to him, truly,--why not?--Why should it
ever be anything else? or why, when the fear of God is on the tongue
should the fear of man be in the heart? Yet it was even more the love
of God than the fear, that his hearers perceived that night. Simple in
word and tone and manner, it was the simplicity of a feeling so full
and strong that it needed no capillary tubes of speech to carry it
upward. The prayer ended, and the retreating steps on their way along
the kitchen passage, Mrs. Derrick came up to Faith, and putting her
arms round her kissed first one cheek and then the other--then turned
and left the room. And Faith sat still, with that joy filling her heart
so full that her head bent with the weight of it.

One other comment she was destined to hear that night.

"I must say, Miss Faith," said Cindy, "I like these new notions
firstrate! I always did say my prayers afore I went to bed, and I'm
free to confess this saves a deal of trouble."

CHAPTER XXX.

The quiet of that very peaceful evening was for a short time
interrupted by a call from Dr. Harrison. The doctor came, he said, to
see how Mr. Linden felt after his day's work; and to tell Faith that
his exhibition was in readiness for her and only waited a sunny day and
her presence. It was agreed that if the sun did not fail of shew