But that did not suit Mrs. Derrick's ideas of propriety. And stepping out into the kitchen she despatched Cindy on her errand. Cindy presently came back from the front door, and went into the dining-room, but not finding Mrs. Derrick she handed a card to Faith. "It's easy done," said Cindy. "I just asked him if he'd any objections towards tellin' his name--and he kinder opened his eyes at me and said no. Then I said, says I, Mis' Derrick do know, and she'd like ter. 'Miss Derrick!' says he--and he took out his pencil and writ that. But I'd like to know _what_ he cleans his pencil with," said Cindy in conclusion, "for I'm free to confess I never see brass shine so in my born days." Faith took the card and read,-- JOHN ENDECOTT LINDEN. She looked a little curiously at the pencilling, at the formation of the capitals and of the small letters; then laid it down and gave her attention to the dishes of the supper-table. CHAPTER II. The next day was Saturday. The morning opened with grey clouds, covering the sky, but which were light and light-broken and promised to roll away entirely as soon as the sun should reach a commanding position in the heavens. The sun however was still quite distant from such a position, in fact was not much more than an hour high, when Lucinda, who was sweeping the front door steps, was hailed from the front door by a person not one of the party of the preceding evening, and very unlike either of them. It was a lady, not young, of somewhat small figure, trim, and nicely dressed. Indeed she was rather handsomely dressed and in somewhat French taste; she had showy gold earrings in her ears, and a head much more in the mode than either Mrs. Derrick's or her daughter's. The face of this lady was plain, decidedly; but redeemed by a look of sense and shrewdness altogether unmixed with ill nature. The voice spoke alert and pleasantly. "So Lucindy, you had company last night, didn't you?" "May be we did and may be we didn't," said Lucindy, brushing away with great energy at an imaginary bit of lint at the end of the upper step. "I do' know but we'd just as good call him one of the family." "So much at home already? I missed seeing him last night--I couldn't get home. What's he like, Cindy? and what has he done?" "Done?" said Cindy--"well he's went out a'most afore I was up. And as to like, Miss Dilly--just you look at him when he comes in. He looks some like folks, and yet he don't, neither." "He's out, is he?" "Yes," said Cindy, reducing a large family of spiders to temporary starvation and despair,--"he's out--if he ain't gone in nowheres. Miss Dilly, if you'll stand just inside the door I can wash the steps just as well. "What's the gentleman out so early for? Maybe he's missed some of his luggage, Cindy."