Volume Ii Part 10 (1/2)

”No, Sir. I have been there but once in the evening, uncle Orrin. He is just about sailing for England.”

”Well, you're going there to-night, aren't you? Run, and bundle yourself up, and I'll take you there before I begin my work.”

There was a small party that evening at Mrs. Evelyn's. Fleda was very early. She ran up to the first floor ? rooms lighted and open, but n.o.body there.

”Fleda Ringgan,” called out the voice of Constance from over the stairs, ”is that you?”

”No,” said Fleda.

”Well, just wait till I come down to you. My darling little Fleda, it's delicious of you to come so early. Now, just tell me, am I captivating?”

”Well, I retain self-possession,” said Fleda. ”I cannot tell about the strength of head of other people.”

”You wretched little creature! Fleda, don't you admire my hair? it's new style, my dear ? just come out; the Delancys brought it out with them; Eloise Delancy taught it us; isn't it graceful? n.o.body in New York has it yet, except the Delancys and we.”

”How do you know but they have taught somebody else?” said Fleda.

”I won't talk to you! Don't you like it?”

”I am not sure that I do not like you in your ordinary way better.”

Constance made a gesture of impatience, and then pulled Fleda after her into the drawing-rooms.

”Come in here; I wont waste the elegancies of my toilet upon your dull perceptions; come here and let me show you some flowers ? aren't those lovely? This bunch came to-day, 'for Miss Evelyn', so Florence will have it it is hers, and it's very mean of her, for I am perfectly certain it is mine; it's come from somebody who wasn't enlightened on the subject of my family circle, and has innocently imagined that two Miss Evelyns could not belong to the same one! I know the floral representatives of all Florence's dear friends and admirers, and this isn't from any of them. I have been distractedly endeavouring all day to find who it came from, for if I don't, I can't take the least comfort in it.”

”But you might enjoy the flowers for their own sake, I should think,” said Fleda, breathing the sweetness of myrtle and heliotrope.

”No, I can't, for I have all the time the a.s.sociation of some horrid creature they might have come from, you know; but it will do just as well to humbug people: I shall make Cornelia Schenck believe that this came from my dear Mr. Carleton!”

”No, you wont, Constance,” said Fleda, gently.

”My dear little Fleda, I shock you, don't I? but I sha'n't tell any lies; I shall merely expressively indicate a particular specimen, and say, 'My dear Cornelia, do you perceive that this is an English rose?' and then it's none of my business, you know, what she believes; and she will be dying with curiosity and despair all the rest of the evening.”

”I shouldn't think there would be much pleasure in that, I confess,” said Fleda, gravely. ”How very ungracefully and stiffly those are made up!”

”My dear little Queechy rose,” said Constance, impatiently, ”you are, pardon me, as fresh as possible. They can't cut the flowers with long stems, you know; the gardeners would be ruined. That is perfectly elegant; it must have cost at least ten dollars. My dear little Fleda!” said Constance, capering off before the long pier-gla.s.s, ”I am afraid I am not captivating! Do you think it would be an improvement if I put drops in my ears? ? or one curl behind them? I don't know which Mr. Carleton likes best!” ?

And with her head first on one side and then on the other, she stood before the gla.s.s looking at herself and Fleda by turns with such a comic expression of mock doubt and anxiety, that no gravity but her own could stand it.

”She is a silly girl, Fleda, isn't she?” said Mrs. Evelyn, coming up behind them.

”Mamma! am I captivating?” cried Constance, wheeling round.

The mother's smile said ”Very!”

”Fleda is wis.h.i.+ng she were out of the sphere of my influence, Mamma. Wasn't Mr. Olmney afraid of my corrupting you?” she said, with a sudden pull-up in front of Fleda. ”My blessed stars! there's somebody's voice I know. Well, I believe it is true that a rose without thorns is a desideratum. Mamma, is Mrs. Thorn's turban to be an invariable _pendant_ to your _coiffure_ all the while Miss Ringgan is here?”

”Hus.h.!.+”

With the entrance of company came Constance's return from extravaganzas to a sufficiently graceful every-day manner, only enough touched with high spirits and lawlessness to free it from the charge of commonplace. But the contrast of these high spirits with her own rather made Fleda's mood more quiet, and it needed no quieting. Of the sundry people that she knew among those presently a.s.sembled there were none that she wanted to talk to; the rooms were hot, and she felt nervous and fluttered, partly from encounters already sustained, and partly from a little anxious expecting of Mr. Carleton's appearance. The Evelyns had not said he was to be there, but she had rather gathered it; and the remembrance of old times was strong enough to make her very earnestly wish to see him, and dread to be disappointed. She swung clear of Mr. Thorn, with some difficulty, and ensconced herself under the shadow of a large cabinet, between that and a young lady who was very good society, for she wanted no help in carrying on the business of it. All Fleda had to do was to sit still and listen, or not listen, which she generally preferred. Miss Tomlinson discoursed upon varieties, with great sociableness and satisfaction; while poor Fleda's mind, letting all her sense and nonsense go, was again taking a somewhat bird's-eye view of things, and from the little centre of her post in Mrs.

Evelyn's drawing-room, casting curious glances over the panorama of her life ? England, France, New York, and Queechy!