The answer to this was only in pantomime, but striking. Miss Danforth did not speak, and instead thereof turned her head over her shoulder and looked away steadily over the meadows which stretched north of the house into the distance. Faith's eyes fell to the floor and the lids drooped over them; and as plain a veil of shadow fell upon her face. Mrs. Derrick's eyes went from one to the other with a look which was not unwonted with her, and a little sigh which said she thought everybody was good but herself. "Bain't ye never comin' in to supper?" said Cindy, framing herself in the doorway. "I want to get out after supper, Miss Faith," she said dropping her voice,--"I do, real bad." "Is all ready, Cindy?" "Yes marm," said Cindy. "I'm free to confess there's a pile o' cakes baked." "Miss Faith, when do you mean to shew me the shore?" said Mr. Linden turning round. "You have been so busy all the week," said Faith,--"and then you didn't speak of it, Mr. Linden--I can go any time." "My dear," said Mrs. Derrick, "there comes Squire Deacon. Maybe he'll stay to supper. I'll go and put on another cup." Mr. Linden gave one glance at the opening gate, and followed Mrs. Derrick into the house. "Miss 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 without Mr. 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," said Faith, "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.