And she ran off. Cindy presently brought in the tray; and Faith followed, arranging and setting in order everything. The tea did not immediately follow, perhaps the fire had got low, or Mrs. Derrick was not ready, for Faith did not seem expectant. She stood on the rug before the fire, looking into it very soberly and consideratively. There was a little abstraction in her figure and air. Suddenly she faced round where she stood. "Do you feel very tired indeed to-night, Mr. Linden?" "Not _very_--now," he said smiling. "I have been resting. I was a little more tired than usual when I came home." Slowly and deliberately she came round behind his chair and stood leaning upon the back of it. "Mr. Linden--I want to ask you something." The tone was low and peculiar. It was a very common thing for her to be more or less moved by a little timidity; but now plainly Faith was afraid. It changed her voice, beyond the slight sweet touch that timidity often gave it. "You know I like to have you, Miss Faith." "I wanted to ask--if you would like,--or if you wouldn't dislike--if you would have any objection, to read and pray at night--here, with us,--and let Cindy and Mr. Skip come in?" "I will, certainly," Mr. Linden said: "how could I have any objection? Miss Faith--will you please to come round here and sit down?--Why are you so much afraid of me?" She did not leave her position. "I didn't know whether you would like it," she said in a very low voice. "I asked mother to ask you, but she wouldn't--though she said she would like to have you do it. I wanted it particularly for mother's sake."--The last words were said little above a whisper. "I don't see where the fear came from, yet." She was quite still, quite motionless, behind his chair. He turned a little, so as to see her face, and laid his hand upon hers. "Will you come round here and tell me, Miss Faith? I shall not let you stand up all the evening." She was looking, when he saw her, with the least bit of a smile upon a mouth all unbent, and eyes that were full; a very happy, stirred face. It quieted down as soon as he turned; except the smile which played rather more. "Tell you what, Mr. Linden?" she said not leaving her place. "What have I done to make myself such an ogre?" "What is an ogre, Mr. Linden?" "A ferocious sort of anomaly that everybody is afraid of." "I don't know what you've done, Mr. Linden," she said half laughing. "I am not enough afraid to hurt anything." "Enough to hurt me--I don't care about any other thing." A grave glance of her eye was regretful enough. "But it's true, Mr. Linden! I was a little afraid to ask what I wasn't sure you would like--that was all." "Well," he said with a reassuring smile, as he got up and took hold of both her hands and brought her out of position, "I am not much hurt yet--but I desire that the fear may not increase. And therefore, Miss Faith, I want to have you sit here in the firelight, so that I can keep watch of it."