"Roses are not very opaque things to see through," he answered smiling, while Mrs. Stoutenburgh rescued Faith and putting her arm round her drew her off towards the sofa. Where Faith was glad to get at a distance from the rose-consumers. She felt rather nervous. "Where is Sam?" she asked. "This is his day, isn't it?" "He was here a minute ago," said his mother,--"I guess he ran off when he heard you coming. He takes fits of being bashful once in a while,--they don't last long. Your mother wasn't afraid to let you come with our horses, was she?" "No ma'am," Faith said,--"not at all. But she hasn't got back her old trust in horses and carriages generally. I wish she had." "I don't--" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh,--"they're not to be trusted generally, child. Has your horse got well yet?" "Not well. Mr. Skip says he's better, but we can't use him." "Well I wanted to talk to you about that--Mr. Stoutenburgh's been at me to do it this month. You know we've always got more horses on hand than we can use--and there's one of 'em that would just suit you. Won't you let him stand in your stable this winter?--and give Crab a chance." "O no, Mrs. Stoutenburgh!--thank you!" said Faith. "I dare say Crab will get better--it won't be necessary; and you know we don't ride much in winter. You're very kind to think of it." "There you are--as usual!" said Mrs. Stoutenburgh. "I'm always afraid to ask you anything, you keep such magnifying glasses. But now Faith, listen to reason. Not ride in winter!--why it's the very time for riding, if there's snow; and you could drive Jerry, or your mother could, just as well as Crab--he's as quiet as he can be. At the same time," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh with a little dance in her eyes, "if anybody else drives him, he _can_ go a little faster." "I'll tell mother how good you are, Mrs. Stoutenburgh. It isn't my business to give answers for her. But did you ever see me drive?" "Not horses," said Mrs. Stoutenburgh laughing. "Not anything else, I am sure? I used to want to go after the cows, but mother never would let me." But whatever Mrs. Stoutenburgh meant she did not explain, for dinner was announced, and the Squire came up to take possession of Faith again; receiving his wife's little whispered "I've done it!" with all her own satisfaction. In the dining-room Sam was at last visible, but the bashful fit had not gone off, and Faith's black silk was even more distracting than her white muslin. Her greeting of him was simple enough to have been reassuring. "I hope you will be as happy a great many times as you are to-day, Sam," she said as she shook hands with him. "On the 29th of November, I mean." Perhaps Sam thought that doubtful--perhaps impossible,--perhaps undesirable. At all events his words were few; and though he was permitted the post of honour at Faith's side, he did not do much for her entertainment at first.