Those weeks, like others, came to an end. And then Mr. Linden gave notice to all and sundry of his scholars, that his time of seclusion was at an end--only giving way to advice so far, as to accept the daily use of Squire Stoutenburgh's close carriage, until his health should be in a more assured state. Monday morning he was to take up his old routine of school duties; though none too fit for it, in the estimation of some people,--the doctor said it was a month too soon. And no one could look at him and forget the last month's work,--a little exertion made the work very apparent; and as they sat at breakfast Monday morning, Mrs. Derrick made up her own mind privately that Dr. Harrison should have found some means to keep him in the house and from work yet longer. But the result of her meditations was not put in words; the effect betrayed itself in the extra care bestowed upon cups of coffee--the only thing within her reach. It was a cold morning, true November, with its driving grey wind clouds, through which the cool sunbeams straggled fitfully; with trees shorn of their golden honours, and brown branches waving and twisting in the wind, and only mere specks of blue here and there overhead. The gulls sailed to and fro above the Mong as if they rejoiced in the fierce gusts of northern wind; the vessels shortened sail, or ran under bare poles. The wind shook the village windows, and poured dry leaves in every porch, and swept up the world generally--not much to the comfort of the same. In Mrs. Derrick's little eating-room indeed, it was warm enough, and the floor swept after another fashion; yet even there did the wind rush in, whenever the kitchen door opened, after Cindy and the hot cakes. "Mr. Linden," said Faith after her eye had gone exploringly to the window, the wind and the clouds,--"I wish you would give the boys only half a day to-day!" "I fancy you could have your wish seconded thirty times," he said smiling. "No--not thirty times, but perhaps twenty." "I don't think those wishes would be worth minding; but I think mine is, Mr. Linden. I mean the reason of it." "I think yours is--if I could mind it. What is the reason, Miss Faith?" "I am afraid you are not quite fit for a whole day's work. In school," she added smiling. "You don't know what you are asking!--if I stay at home I shall talk nothing but French the whole afternoon." "Well," said Faith laughingly, "I should only be still. I could bear that." "I couldn't--and you wouldn't. But you need not be uneasy, Miss Faith--I must not be at home." She looked grave, but said no more.