Volume I Part 62 (2/2)
It was so rarely that Fleda was seen to shed tears, that they always were a signal of dismay to any of the household. There was even agony in Mrs. Rossitur's voice as she implored her not to give way to them. But, notwithstanding that, Fleda's tears came this time from too deep a spring to be stopped at once.
”It makes me feel as if all was lost, Fleda, when I see you do so.”
Fleda put her arms about her neck, and whispered that ”she would not” ? that ”she should not ?”
Yet it was a little while before she could say any more.
”But, aunt Lucy, he doesn't know what he is doing.”
”No; and I can't make him know. I cannot say anything more, Fleda ? it would do no good. I don't know what is the matter ?
he is entirely changed from what he used to be.”
”I know what is the matter,” said Fleda, now turning comforter in her turn, as her aunt's tears fell more quietly, because more despairingly, than her own ? ”I know what it is ? he is not happy; ? that is all. He has not succeeded well in these farm doings, and he wants money, and he is worried ? it is no wonder if he don't seem exactly as he used to.”
”And oh, that troubles me most of all!” said Mrs. Rossitur.
”The farm is bringing in nothing, I know ? he don't know how to get along with it ? I was afraid it would be so; ? and we are paying nothing to uncle Orrin ? and it is just a dead weight on his hands; ? and I can't bear to think of it! And what will it come to?”
Mrs. Rossitur was now in her turn surprised into showing the strength of her sorrows and apprehensions. Fleda was fain to put her own out of sight, and bend her utmost powers to soothe and compose her aunt, till they could both go down to the breakfast-table. She had got ready a nice little dish that her uncle was very fond of; but her pleasure in it was all gone; and indeed it seemed to be thrown away upon the whole table.
Half the meal was over before anybody said a word.
”I am going to wash my hands of these miserable farm affairs,”
said Mr. Rossitur.
”Are you?” said his wife.
”Yes ? of all personal concern in them; that is, I am wearied to death with the perpetual annoyances and vexations, and petty calls upon my time ? life is not worth having at such a rate! I'll have done with it.”
”You will give up the entire charge to Lucas?” said Mrs.
Rossitur.
”Lucas! ? No! ? I wouldn't undergo that man's tongue for another year if he would take out his wages in talking. I could not have more of it in that case than I have had the last six months. After money, the thing that man loves best is certainly the sound of his own voice; ? and a most insufferable egotist! No ? I have been talking with a man who wants to take the whole farm for two years upon shares ? that will clear me of all trouble.”
There was sober silence for a few minutes, and then Mrs.
Rossitur asked who it was.
”His name is Didenhover.”
”Oh, uncle Rolf, don't have anything to do with him!”
exclaimed Fleda.
”Why not?”
”Because he lived with grandpa a great while ago, and behaved very ill. Grandpa had a great deal of trouble with him.”
”How old were you then?”
”I was young to be sure,” said Fleda, hanging her head, ”but I remember very well how it was.”
”You may have occasion to remember it a second time,” said Mr.
<script>