Say and Seal Volume Ii Part 55

"How good that would be! as soon as the spring opens. You could send one up from New York, Endecott. Do they cost much?"

"I think not. And what do you say to taking a little portion of this for the beginning of a free library for the poor people? If the thing were once begun, Mr. Stoutenburgh would give you what you please to carry it on,--and Mr. Simlins would help,--and so would I."

"I was thinking of books!" said Faith, her eye dancing in an unknown "library";--"but these would be books to _lend_. I think a great many would like that, Endecott! O yes, we could get plenty of help. That is a delightful plan!--I don't think I ought to be sorry that basket came, after all," she added smiling. Mr. Linden smiled too--she was a pretty Lady Bountiful!

"Faith," he said, "suppose (it is a very presumptuous supposition, but one may _suppose_ anything) suppose when my hands are free to take care of my Mignonette, that I should have the offer of two or three different gardens wherein to place her. How should I choose?"

She coloured and looked at him somewhat inquiringly, then turned away with a kept-in but very pretty smile. "I know," she said, "how you would choose--and you would not ask me."

"Yes I should, little unbeliever--I ask you now."

"You would go," she said gravely--"where your hands were most wanted."

"There spoke a true Sunbeam!" said Mr. Linden. But perhaps the word--or something in the changing light of the afternoon--carried his thoughts on to the night train which was to bear him away; for he left Dr.

Harrison, and baskets, and schemes, in the background; and drawing her closer to his side talked of her affairs--what she had been doing, what she meant to do, in various ways,--trying to leave as it were a sort of network of his care about her. Then came twilight, and Mrs. Derrick and tea; with Faith's light figure flitting to and fro in preparation; and then prayers. And then--how fast the clock ticked! how fast the minutes began to run away!

The storm did not rest,--it blew and beat and poured down as hard as ever, eddying round the house in gusts that made every word and every minute within doors seem quieter and sweeter. And the words were many, and the minutes too--yet they dropped away one by one, and the upper gla.s.s was empty!

CHAPTER XX.

Faith fortified herself with a triple wall of mental resolves against Dr. Harrison's advances. But when the doctor came again, a night or two after Thanksgiving, there did not seem to be much that she could do--or hinder. The doctor's lines of circ.u.mvallation were too skilfully drawn for an inexperienced warrior like Faith to know very well where to oppose him. He was not in a demonstrative mood at all; rather more quiet than usual. He had just pushed an advanced work in the shape of his golden cake; and he rested there for the present.

To Faith's great joy, midway in the evening the doctor's monopoly was broken by the entrance of Squire Stoutenburgh and a very round game of talk. Faith seized the opportunity to present her claim for a free library--answered with open hand on the spot. And when he was gone, she sat meditating a speech, but she was prevented. The doctor, as if unconsciously amusing himself, started a chymical question; and went on to give Faith a most exquisite a.n.a.lysis and ill.u.s.tration. It was impossible to listen coldly; it was impossible to maintain reserve.

Faith must be herself, and delight shone in every feature. Now could Dr. Harrison enjoy this thoroughly and yet give no sign that he did so; his eye watched hers, while Faith thought he was looking into depths of science; his smile was a keen reflection of that on her lips, while she fancied it called forth only by his own skill, or success, or scientific power. He had produced the very effect he wanted; for the moment, he had her all to himself.

"Miss Faith," he said gently, as his demonstration came to an end,--"you may command me for that library."

Faith drew back and her mind returned to business again. The doctor saw it, and was instantly sorry he had started the subject.

"I was going to speak to you about that, Dr. Harrison. If you have no objection, I shall take a little of that money you entrusted to me, for it--the beginning of it. Only a little. The rest shall go as I suppose you meant it to go."

"I knew it was very sure to go right after it got into your hands. I don't think I followed it any further."

"It will make a great many people happy this winter, Dr. Harrison."

"I hope it will," said he very sincerely; for he knew that if it made _them_ it would her.

"You have little notion how much," Faith went on gravely. "I will do the best I can with it,--and if you had patience to hear, I would let you know what, Dr. Harrison."

"You do me less than justice, Miss Faith. You can hear me rant about philosophical niceties,--and yet think that I would not have patience to listen to a lecture from you upon my neglected duties!"

"I didn't mean that, sir."

He gave her a genial, recognizing little smile, which was not exactly in his "part"--but came in spite of him.

"Do you know, I should like to hear it, Miss Faith. I always like lectures ill.u.s.trated. What have you done already?"

"There is an almost bed-ridden woman two miles off, who will bless somebody all winter for the comfort of a rocking-chair--all her life, I may rather say;--a common wooden one, Dr. Harrison."

"That is a capital idea," said the doctor. "She will bless _you_, I hope."

"No, certainly! I shall tell her the money is not mine,--I am only laying it out for a kind somebody."

"Miss Faith," said the doctor,--"I am not kind!"

"I think you are,"--was her gentle, somewhat wistful answer. The doctor sprung up.

"Mrs. Derrick," said he with all his comicality alive,--"Miss Faith promised me a piece of pumpkin pie."

He had it, and taking his old place on the rug slowly demolished it, qualifying every morsel with such ridiculous correlative remarks, allusions, and propositions,--that it was beyond the power of either Mrs. Derrick or Faith to retain her gravity. But the moment the door closed upon him, Faith looked sober.

"Well, child?" said her mother.

"Well, mother--I haven't written my French."

And she sat down to write it, but studied something else. "Manage it some other way"--she had said she would; it was not easy! What was she going to do? the doctor asked nothing of her but ordinary civility; how could she refuse him that? It was a puzzle, and Faith found it so as the weeks went on. It seemed to be as Mr. Linden had said; that she could do little but be as she had been, herself. That did not satisfy Faith.

It was a great relief, when about the middle of December the family went to New York for a few weeks, and Dr. Harrison went with his family. Once more she breathed freely. Then Faith and Reuben made themselves very busy in preparing for the Christmas doings. Means enough were on hand now. Reuben was an invaluable auxiliary as a scout;--to find out where anything was pressingly wanted and what; and long lists were made, and many trains laid in readiness against Mr.

Linden's arrival. And then he came!

It was for a good week's holiday this time, and how it was enjoyed two people knew--which was enough. Studies went on after the old fas.h.i.+on during that week, and dinners and teas out made some unavoidable interruptions, yet not on the whole unpleasant. And sleigh rides were taken, day and night; and walks and talks not to be mentioned. Then the Newyear's visiting--with such a budget of new varieties!--how pleasant it was to go that round again together; and it was hard to make short visits, for everybody wanted to see and hear so much of Mr. Linden. He stayed one extra day after that--to see Faith when he had done seeing everybody else, but then he went; and the coldness and quiet of winter set in, broken only by letters.

There was a break of another kind when Dr. Harrison came back, in the middle of January; such a break to Faith's quiet that the coldness was well nigh forgotten. She had doubly resolved she would have as little as possible to do with him; and found presently she was having quite as much as ever.

The plan of rendering him a grave account of what she had done or was doing with his money, so far as the plan regarded keeping him at a distance, was a signal failure. Very simply and honestly it was done, on her part; but it suited the doctor admirably; nothing could better serve his purposes. Dr. Harrison heard her communication about some relieved family or project of relief, with a pleasant sort of attention and intelligence; and had skill, although really and professedly unwonted in the like things, to take up her plans and make the most happy suggestions and additions--often growing a large scheme upon a small one, and edging in the additional means so insensibly, so quietly, that though Faith saw he did it she could not tell how to hinder and did not know that she ought. Mr. Linden had sent, as he promised, his help for the library,--indeed sent from time to time some new parcel; and without inquiring whether the money he had left for _his_ poor people was exhausted, had sent her a fresh supply. But she had none too much, from all sources. It was a winter of great severity among the poorer portion of the community; work was hard to come by, and the intense weather made food and clothing and tiring doubly in demand. There were few starving poor people in Pattaqua.s.set; but many that winter lacked comforts, and some would have wanted bread, without the diligent care of their better-off neighbours. And there as everywhere, those who gave such care were few. Faith and Reuben had plenty to do. But indeed not merely, nor chiefly, with the furnis.h.i.+ng of food to the hungry and firing to the cold; neither were those the points where Dr. Harrison's a.s.sistance came most helpfully in.

Little Ency Stephens wanted a flower now and then, as well as a velocipede; and Dr. Harrison gave--not to Faith, but to Faith's hands for her--a nice little monthly rose-bush out of the greenhouse. How it smiled in the poor cottage and on the ailing child!--and what could Faith do but with a swelling heart to wish good to the giver. A smoky chimney was putting out the eyes of a poor seamstress. Dr. Harrison quietly gave Reuben orders to have a certain top put to the chimney and send the bill to him. He even seemed to be undertaking some things on his own account. Faith heard through Reuben that he had procured the office of post-mistress in Pattaqua.s.set to be given to the distressed family she and Mr. Linden had visited at Neanticut; and that Mrs. Tuck and Mintie were settled at the post-office, in all comfort accordingly.

But worst of all! there were some sick people; and one or two for whom Faith dared not refuse his offer to go with her to see them. Dared still less after the first time he had actually gone; so great and immediate she found the value, not of his medicines only, but of the word or two of hint and direction which he gave her towards their help and healing. Faith began to look forward to May with a breath of almost impatience. But a change came before that.

CHAPTER XXI.

The spring came, with all its genial influences. Not now with such expeditions as the last spring had seen, but with letters to take their place, and with walks of business and kindness instead of pleasure.

Yes, of pleasure too; and Faith began to find her "knight" not only a help and safeguard, but good company. Reuben was so true, so simple and modest--was walking in such a swift path of improvement; was so devoted to Faith and her interests, besides the particular bond of sympathy between them, that she might have had many a brother and fared much worse. The intercourse had not changed its character outwardly--Reuben's simple ceremonial of respect and deference was as strict as ever; but the thorough liking of first acquaintances.h.i.+p had deepened into very warm affection on both sides. With Dr. Harrison Reuben gained no ground--or the doctor did not with him. Though often working for him and with him, though invariably courteous with the most respectful propriety, Faith could see that Reuben's old feeling was rather on the increase.

With the spring thaw came a freshet. It came suddenly, at the end of the week; every river and stream rising into a full tide of insurrection with the melting snows of Sat.u.r.day, and Sat.u.r.day night bridges and mill dams went by the board. Among the rest, one of the railway bridges near Pattaqua.s.set gave way, and a full train from the east set down its freight of pa.s.sengers in Pattaqua.s.set over Sunday.

They amused themselves variously--as such freight in such circ.u.mstances is wont to do. Faith knew that the church was well filled that Sunday morning, but the fact or the cause concerned her little--did not disturb the quiet path of her thoughts and steps, until church was out and she coming home, alone that day, as it happened. Then she found the walk full and _her_ walk hindered. Especially by two gentlemen--who as the others thinned off, right and left, still went straight on; not fast enough to get away from Faith nor slow enough for her to pa.s.s them. They were strangers, evidently, and town bred. One of them reminded Faith of Dr. Harrison, in dress and style--both belonged to a cla.s.s of which she had seen few specimens. But she gave them little heed (save as they detained her,) nor cared at all for their discussion of the weather, or the place. Then suddenly her attention was caught and held.

"By the way!" said one--"this is the very place where Linden was so long."

"Who? Endecott Linden?" said Dr. Harrison's likeness. "What was he here for?"