Volume I Part 36 (1/2)
”Further than you can see, Elfie.”
”Further than I can see! ? It must be a very large farm.”
”This is not a farm where we are now,” said he; ”did you mean that? This is the park; we are almost at the edge of it on this side.”
”What is the difference between a farm and a park?” said Fleda.
”The grounds of a farm are tilled for profit; a park is an uncultivated enclosure, kept merely for men and women and deer to take pleasure in.”
”_I_ have taken a good deal of pleasure in it,” said Fleda. ”And have you a farm besides, Mr. Carleton?”
”A good many, Elfie.”
Fleda looked surprised; and then remarked, that it must be very nice to have such a beautiful piece of ground just for pleasure.
She enjoyed it to the full during the few days she was there.
And one thing more, the grand piano in the music-room. The first evening of their arrival she was drawn by the far-off sounds, and Mrs. Carleton seeing it, went immediately to the music-room with her. The room had no light, except from the moonbeams that stole in through two gla.s.s doors which opened upon a particularly private and cherished part of the grounds, in summer-time full of flowers; for, in the very refinement of luxury, delights had been crowded about this favourite apartment. Mr. Carleton was at the instrument, playing. Fleda sat down quietly in one corner, and listened ? in a rapture of pleasure she had hardly ever known from any like source. She did not think it could be greater; till, after a time, in a pause of the music, Mrs. Carleton asked her son to sing a particular ballad; and that one was followed by two or three more. Fleda left her corner ? she could not contain herself, and, favoured by the darkness, came forward; and stood quite near; and if the performer had had light to see by, he would have been gratified with the tribute paid to his power by the unfeigned tears that ran down her cheeks. This pleasure was also repeated from evening to evening.
”Do you know we set off for Paris to-morrow?” said Mrs.
Carleton the last evening of their stay, as Fleda came up to the door after a prolonged ramble in the park, leaving Mr.
Carleton with one or two gardeners at a little distance.
”Yes!” said Fleda, with a sigh that was more than half audible.
”Are you sorry?” said Mrs. Carleton, smiling.
”I cannot be glad,” said Fleda, giving a sober look over the lawn.
”Then you like Carleton?”
”Very much! ? it is a prettier place than Queechy.”
”But we shall have you here again, dear Fleda,” said Mrs.
Carleton, restraining her smile at this, to her, very moderate compliment.
”Perhaps not,” said Fleda quietly. ”Mr. Carleton said,” she added, a minute after, with more animation, ”that a park was a place for men and women and deer to take pleasure in. I am sure it is for children too!”
”Did you have a pleasant ride this morning?”
”Oh, very! ? I always do. There isn't anything I like so well.”
”What, as to ride on horseback with Guy?” said Mrs. Carleton, looking exceedingly benignant.
”Yes ? unless ?”
”Unless what, my dear Fleda?”
”Unless, perhaps ? I don't know, ? I was going to say, unless perhaps to hear him sing.”
Mrs. Carleton's delight was unequivocally expressed; and she promised Fleda that she should have both rides and songs there in plenty another time ? a promise upon which Fleda built no trust at all.