"Hope he ha'n't got no more--without its lighter," said Cindy. "However, he carried it upstairs himself, I'm free to confess. I guess 'twarn't for luggage he went out, 'cause he asked about breakfast time, special." "If he means to be out till then he'll have a good walk of it." It wanted five minutes of breakfast time, and Mrs. Derrick--what with stepping into the kitchen to oversee Cindy, and stepping to the front window to oversee the street--was warm enough for a cooler morning. "Faith," she said, referring as usual to her daughter, "Faith--what shall we do if he don't come?" "I guess he'll come, mother;--he knows the time. The things won't hurt much by waiting a little." As she spoke, the little front gate swung softly to, and the person in question came leisurely up the steps and into the hall. Then having just glanced into the parlour, he at once--with a promptitude which bespoke him too punctual himself to doubt the punctuality of others--advanced to the dining-room door and walked in. Mrs. Derrick's face shewed gratification mingled with her good nature. Faith smiled; and Miss Dilly was duly introduced as Miss Delia Danforth, Mrs. Derrick's aunt, then on a visit at Pattaquasset. "You've taken an early stroll this morning, sir," said this last lady. "View the country?" "No," said Mr. Linden, "I have been viewing the town." "Ah! Well I call that viewing the country. Town and country, all's one here; and it makes a very pleasant sort of place. But what do you call the _town_, sir?--Do you drink coffee?" "The town," said Mr. Linden, in answer to the first question--receiving his coffee-cup from Mrs. Derrick by way of answer to the second,--"means in this instance, Miss Danforth, that spot of country which is most thickly settled. Yes, ma'am--I drink coffee." "Very bad for you, sir; don't you know it?" "Bad for me as one of the human race? or as an individual specially marked out not to drink it?" "Dear me!" said Miss Danforth sipping her own tea--"I don't know what you are 'marked out' for. I think it's a mistake for everybody to think he is 'marked' for something special--they set the mark themselves, and generally it don't fit." "But the fact that a man often gets the wrong mark, by no means proves that there is no right one which belongs to him," said Mr. Linden, looking gravely at Faith as if he meant she should smile. Faith seemed to look at the question however rather seriously, for dropping her knife and fork she asked, "How shall a man know his mark?" "By earnest consideration and prayer," he answered, really grave this time. "I know of no other way, Miss Faith." What a remark that was! it silenced the whole table. Knives and forks and spoons had it alone, with only words of necessity; till Faith asked Mr. Linden if he would not have another cup of coffee. "Certainly!" he said handing her his cup. "There is so much to be said on both sides of that little bit of china--I must not be partial in my attention."