Faith," said the Squire, "do you think the night dews conducive to—to your comfort?"
"When they are falling," said Faith abstractedly. "Why not, Mr. Deacon?"
"To be sure!" said the Squire gallantly,—"honeysuckles and such things do. But what I mean is this. Cilly's goin' to get up a great shore party to-morrow, and she says she couldn't touch a mouthful down there if you didn't go. And like enough some other folks couldn't neither."
"Mother's gone in to tea. Will you come in and ask her, Squire?"
"Couldn't stay, Miss Faith—Cilly's lookin' out for me now. But you can tell—your mother'll go if you do,—or you can go if she don't, you and Miss Danforth. It's good for you now, Miss Faith,—the saline breezes are so very—different," said the Squire.
"When are you going, Mr. Deacon?"
"Soon as we can tackle up after dinner, Cilly thought. But fix your own time, Miss Faith—I'll call for you any hour of the twenty-six."
Faith hesitated, and pulled a leaf or two from the honeysuckle; then she spoke boldly.
"But you forget we have a gentleman here, Squire;—we can't go withoutMr. Linden."
"I don't want his help to drive my horse," said the Squire, with a little change of tone,—"but whoever hinders his going, I don't. The shore's wide, Miss Faith,—it don't matter how many gets onto it. There's no chance but he'll go if you ask him. Who wouldn't!" said the Squire, relapsing into his former self.
"We'll come down then some time in the course of the afternoon," saidFaith, "and see what you are doing."
"Then I sha'n't drive you down, sha'n't I?" said Squire Deacon. "Never mind—it's no matter,—come when you like, Miss Faith, we'll be glad to see you, anyhow." And the Squire closed the little gate after him energetically.
"Cinderella is in despair, Miss Faith," said Mr. Linden as Faith entered the dining-room. "Miss Danforth—how could you keep Squire Deacon so long, and then send him home to supper!"
"It's all your fault, sir," said Miss Danforth cheerfully. "And I guess the Squire has got his supper."
"He must be a man of quick despatch," said Mr. Linden; while Faith after a glance to see if her bannocks were right, made her announcement.
"Mother, there's a shore party to-morrow."
"Who's going, child?"
"Squire Deacon and Cecilia—and I don't know who else—and he came to ask us. Will you go and take tea with us at the shore, Mr. Linden?"
"Does that mean that my tea is to be transported to the shore, and thatI am to go there to find it, Miss Faith?"
"You have a very puzzling way of putting things," said Faith laughing, though her look bore out her words. "I don't think it means that. Your tea won't be there before you are, Mr. Linden. Wouldn't you like to go?"
"The Squire says there is room enough on the shore," suggested Miss Danforth. "I suppose he wants a good deal for himself, or he wouldn't have thought of it."
"Perhaps he thinks I want a good deal," said Mr. Linden. "Well—in consideration of the width of the shore, I think I will go. Is not that your advice, Miss Faith? What are the pros and cons,—if you were to state them fairly?"
"Well," said Faith, "you will have a pleasant ride, or walk, down—whichever you like;—I think it is very pleasant. You can go in the water, if you like, which everybody does; there's a beautiful shore; and I suppose that would be pleasant. You'll see all that is pretty about the place while the people are digging clams and preparing supper; and then you'll have supper; and then we shall come home; and I think it is all pleasant, except that there will be too many people. I like it best with just a few."
"As if we were to go down there to-night in the moonlight.—Now MissFaith—what is the other side?"
"Just that—the too many people. There isn't a chance to enjoy anything quietly. I can enjoy the people too, sometimes, but not the other things at the same time so well. Perhaps you can, Mr. Linden."
"I can sometimes enjoy the other things at the same time—better."
Faith again looked a little puzzled, but answered with a simple
"Then I dare say you will like it."
"What I am puzzled about," said he smiling, "is, how you are to shew me the shore. Miss Danforth—why is that bread-plate so attractive to me, while I am like the reverse end of the magnet to it?"
"But my dear," said Mrs. Derrick, for the bread-plate was suggestive,—"ain't you going along with the Squire's party?"
"I said we would come after, mother."
"The Squire only said there was room on the shore," added Miss Danforth.
"Is the shore wide enough for us to drive down there? or must we walk?" asked Mr. Linden.
"But you'll eat supper with them, of course," said Mrs. Derrick.
"Of course, mother. The wagon must go, Mr. Linden. There's room enough for anything."
Mr. Linden made no comment upon that, and finished his tea in comparative silence. Then went forth, as was his custom, to the post-office, and—as was not his custom—returned very soon. Mrs. Derrick and Miss Danforth had gone out to see a neighbour, and Faith sat alone in the twilight parlour. It was very twilight there, but he walked in and stood waiting for his eyes to discover what there might be.
"There is nobody here but me, Mr. Linden," said a very soft and clear voice. "Do you want anything?"
"I wanted to see you—and am foiled by the darkness. Are you tired,Miss Faith?"
"Never. I wasn't sitting in the dark for that."
"Would you object to coming into the light?"
"Not at all," said Faith laughing. "Which way?"
"There is to be a fine illumination to-night, which I should like to have you see."
"An illumination! Where is it? Shall I want my bonnet?"
"You will be better illuminated without it,—but you may perhaps take cold."
"How do you make your scholars understand you?" said Faith. "I am sureI must need illuminating.—So much, that I had better leave my bonnet,Mr. Linden?"
"I think you may—if you will take some light substitute. Why my scholars are my scholars, Miss Faith."
"What then?" said Faith stopping short.
"Why then I am their teacher."
"I half wish I was a scholar too," said Faith with a tone which filled up the other 'half'—"I don't know much, Mr. Linden."
"About illuminations? I will promise you some light upon that point."
With which encouragement, Faith fetched the scarf which was to do duty for a bonnet if desired, and they set out.
"Now Miss Faith," said her companion as he closed the gate, "if you will shew me the road, I will shew you
