She smiled, as if it were beyond his ken now, but her words went to another point. "What time would you like, Mr. Linden?" "Whatever suits you." She was silent for a minute or two, with a very happy face, till the door opened. Then she sprang up and received and placed the tea and things which Cindy had brought in. There was a dainty supply to-night, perhaps in consideration of Mr. Linden's first day of out-door work, and in delicate sympathy and reward thereof. And Faith, in her happiest mood though as quiet as a mouse, was an excellent 'ministering spirit' of the tea-table; to-night particularly, for every sense and affection seemed to be on the alert. "How do you find all the boys, after their month out of school, Mr. Linden?" she said, when waffles and cups of tea were fairly under weigh. "Very glad to see me--very much afraid I should tire myself; and some a little afraid they might share the fatigue. So things correct each other!--if they had not shewed the last fear, I might have felt the first." "How did that work?" said Faith laughing a little. "It _worked_--" said Mr. Linden. "Is that intelligible, Miss Faith?" Her smile and shake of the head said that it was. "Is Joe Deacon staying home yet?" said Mrs. Derrick. "No, he began school again to-day." "I wonder whether the Squire is going off again," said Mrs. Derrick,--"or whether _he's_ going to stay home." "I have heard nothing of his going away." "You were going to tell me what exactly a 'standard' is, Mr. Linden? At least!"--said Faith correcting herself,--"I was going to ask you." "There is a very intimate connexion between the two things," said Mr. Linden smiling. "A standard, in this sense, is simply some fixed rule of the _ought to be_, by which the _is_ must be tried. Standard coin is that made according to the precise government regulation, and is the test of all other in the realm, as to size, weight, and alloy. So of standard weights and measures. For some things we have the Bible standard,--for most, each person has his own." "Then Mr. Linden," said Faith, "I think my 'ideal' of Melancholy is something disagreeable." "I don't believe you have any!" said he laughing. "You mean your idea, Miss Faith." "Do I?" said Faith. "But perhaps you have such a thing, Mr. Linden; isn't it disagreeable?" "Not at all--and besides I haven't any. But the ideal of Melancholy is about as much like the reality, as a picture of the Tragic Muse is like the fifth act of a tragedy." That Faith did not know the meaning of tragedy, was a fact which she wisely and self-denyingly kept to herself, and for the present turned her attention to supplying her mother with a fresh waffle. And so with various bits of talk, tea came to an end, and Mrs. Derrick was called out to discuss some important matter with Mr. Skip. "Mother," said Faith finding her opportunity, "I asked Mr. Linden, and he will do that."--A little shadow came over Mrs. Derrick's face. "Well, child?" she said gently.