Volume I Part 12 (1/2)
CHAPTER IV.
A mind that in a calm angelic mood Of happy wisdom, meditating good, Beholds, of all from her high powers required, Much done, and much designed, and more desired. ?
WORDSWORTH.
”I've had such a delicious day, dear grandpa,” said little Fleda, as they sat at supper; ”you can't think how kind Mr.
Carleton has been.”
”Has he? Well, dear, I'm glad on't; he seems a very nice young man.”
”He's a smart-looking feller,” said Cynthy, who was pouring out the tea.
”And we have got the greatest quant.i.ty of nuts!” Fleda went on; ”enough for all winter. Cynthy and I will have to make ever so many journeys to fetch 'em all; and they are splendid big ones. Don't you say anything to Mr. Didenhover, Cynthy.”
”I don't desire to meddle with Mr. Didenhover unless I've got to,” said Cynthy, with an expression of considerable disgust.
”You needn't give no charges to me.”
”But you'll go with me, Cynthy?”
”I s'pose I'll have to,” said Miss Gall, drily, after a short interval of sipping tea and helping herself to sweet-meats.
This lady had a pervading acidity of face and temper, but it was no more. To take her name as standing for a fair setting forth of her character would be highly injurious to a really respectable composition, which the world's neglect (there was no other imaginable cause) had soured a little.
Almost Fleda's first thought on coming home had been about Mr.
Jolly. But she knew very well, without asking, that he had not been there; she would not touch the subject.
”I haven't had such a fine day of nutting in a great while, grandpa,” she said again; ”and you never saw such a good hand as Mr. Carleton is at whipping the trees.”
”How came he to go with you?”
”I don't know; I suppose it was to please me, in the first place; but I am sure he enjoyed it himself; and he liked the pie and cheese, too, Cynthy.”
”Where did your cousin go?”
”O, he went off after the woodc.o.c.k. I hope he didn't find any.”
”What do you think of those two young men, Fairy?”
”In what way, grandpa?”
”I mean, which of them do you like the best?”
”Mr. Carleton.”
”But t'other one's your cousin,” said Mr. Ringgan, bending forward and examining his little granddaughter's face with a curious, pleased look, as he often did when expecting an answer from her.
”Yes,” said Fleda; ”but he isn't so much of a gentleman.”
”How do you know that?”