Volume Ii Part 38 (2/2)

She looked in his face once, and was silent;--what her silence covered could only be guessed. But it lasted a little while.

”It must be done at that place where you were with your sister?”

”Yes, little Mignonette, it must be done there.”

”And when must you begin the work, Endecott?” If the words cost her some effort, it only just appeared.

”I came for a year, dear Faith--and I ought not to stay much beyond that.”

Faith mentally counted the months, in haste, with a pang; but the silence did not last long this time. Her head left its resting place and bending forward she looked up into Mr. Linden's face, with a sunny clear look that met his full. It was not a look that could by any means be mistaken to indicate a want of other feeling, however. One might as soon judge from the suns.h.i.+ne gilding on the slope of a mountain that the mountain is made of tinsel.

”Endecott--is that what has been the matter with you?”

She needed no answer but his look, though that was a clear as her own.

”I could easier bear it if _I_ could bear the whole,” he said. ”But you can understand that Dr. Harrison's proposal tried, though it did not tempt me.”

She scarce gave a thought to that.

”There is one thing more I wanted to ask. Will there be--” she paused, and went on,--”no time at all that you can be here?”

”Dear Faith!” he said kissing her, ”do you think I could bear that? How often I shall be able to come I cannot quite tell, but come I shall--from time to time, if I live. And in the meanwhile we must make letters do a great deal.”

Her face brightened. She sat quietly looking at him.

”Will that shadow come any more,--now that you have told me?”

”I will give you leave to scold me, if you see it,” Mr. Linden said, answering her smile,--”I ought not to be in shadow for a minute--with such a sunbeam in my possession. Although, although!--do you know, little bright one, that the connexion between sunbeams and shadows is very intimate? and very hard to get rid of?”

”Shall I talk to you about 'nonsense' again?”--she said half lightly, resting her hand on his arm and looking at him. Yet behind her light tone there was a great tenderness.

”You may--and I will plead guilty. But in which of the old cla.s.ses of 'uncanny' folk will you put me?--with those who were known by their having no shadow, or with those who went always with two?”

”So I suppose one must have a _little_ shadow, to keep from being uncanny!”

”You and I will not go upon that understanding, dear Faith.”

Faith did not look like one who had felt no shadow; rather perhaps she looked like one who had borne a blow; a look that in the midst of the talk more than once brought to Mr. Linden's mind a shadowy remembrance of her as she was after they got home that terrible evening; but her face had a gentle brightness now that then was wanting.

”I don't know”--she said wistfully in answer to his last words.--”Perhaps it is good. I dare say it is, for me. It is a shame for me to remind you of anything--but don't you know, Endecott--'all things are ours'? _both_ 'things present and things to come?'” And her eye looked up with a child's gravity, and a child's smile.

Bear it alone?--yes, he could have done that--as he had borne other things,--it tried him to see her bear it. It touched him to see that look come back--to see any tempering of the bright face she had worn so long. Faith hardly knew perhaps with what eyes he had watched her through all the conversation, eyes none the less anxious for the smile that met hers so readily; she hardly guessed what pain her bright efforts at keeping up, gave him. To shelter and gladden her life was the dearest delight of his; and just now duty thwarted him in both points. And he knew--almost better than she did--how much she depended on him. He looked down at her for a moment with a face of such grave submission as Faith had never seen him wear.

”My dear little child!” he said. But that sentence was let stand by itself. The next was spoken differently. ”I do know it, dear Faith,--and yet you do well to remind me. I need to be kept up to the mark. And it is not more true that each day has sufficient evil, than that each has sufficient good--if it be only sought out. There cannot much darkness live in the light of those words.”

”How far have you to go,” she said with demure archness,--”to find the good of these days?”

”You are quick at conclusions”--said Mr. Linden,--”how far do you think it is between us at present?”

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