Volume Ii Part 11 (1/2)

”Just the same! ? he has not altered a jot,” she said to herself as he came forward to Mrs. Evelyn; ? ”it is himself! ?

his very self ? he doesn't look a day older ? I'm very glad! ?

(Yes, Ma'am, it's extremely tiresome ?). How exactly as when he left me in Paris, ? and how much pleasanter than anybody else! ? more pleasant than ever, it seems, to me, but that is because I have not seen him in so long; he only wanted one thing. That same grave eye ? but quieter, isn't it than it used to be? ? I think so ? (It's the best store in town, I think, Mrs. Thorn, by far ? yes, Ma'am ?). Those eyes are certainly the finest I ever saw. How I have seen him stand and look just so when he was talking to his workmen ? without that air of consciousness that all these people have, comparatively ? what a difference! (I know very little about it, Ma'am; ? I am not learned in laces ? I never bought any ?). I wish he would look this way ? I wonder if Mrs. Evelyn does not mean to bring him to see me ? she must remember; ? now there is that curious old smile and looking down! how much better I know what it means than Mrs. Evelyn does! ? (Yes, Ma'am, I understand ? I mean! ? it is very convenient ? I never go anywhere else to get anything ? at least, I should not if I lived here ?). She does not know whom she is talking to. She is going to walk him off into the other room! How very much more gracefully he does everything than anybody else ? it comes from that entire high-mindedness and frankness, I think ? not altogether, a fine person must aid the effect, and that complete independence of other people ? I wonder if Mrs.

Evelyn has forgotten my existence? ? he has not, I am sure ? I think she is a little odd ? (Yes, Ma'am, my face is flushed ?

the room is very warm ?.)”

”But the fire has gone down ? it will be cooler now,” said Mrs. Thorn.

Which were the first words that fairly entered Fleda's understanding. She was glad to use the screen to hide her face now, not the fire.

Apparently the gentleman and lady found nothing to detain them in the other room, for, after sauntering off to it, they sauntered back again, and placed themselves to talk just opposite her. Fleda had an additional screen now in the person of Miss Tomlinson, who had sought her corner, and was earnest talking across her to Mrs. Thorn, so that she was sure, even if Mr. Carleton's eyes should chance to wander that way, they would see nothing but the unremarkable skirt of her green silk dress, most unlikely to detain them.

The trade in nothings going on over the said green silk was very brisk indeed; but, disregarding the buzz of tongues near at hand, Fleda's quick ears were able to free the barrier, and catch every one of the quiet tones beyond.

”And you leave us the day after to-morrow?” said Mrs. Evelyn.

”No, Mrs. Evelyn, I shall wait another steamer.”

The lady's brow instantly revealed to Fleda a trap setting beneath to catch his reason.

”I'm very glad!” exclaimed little Edith, who, in defiance of conventionalities and proprieties, made good her claim to be in the drawing-room on all occasions ? ”then you will take me another ride, wont you, Mr. Carleton?”

”You do not flatter us with a very long stay,” pursued Mrs.

Evelyn.

”Quite as long as I expected ? longer than I meant it to be,”

he answered, rather thoughtfully.

”Mr. Carleton,” said Constance, sidling up in front of him. ”I have been in distress to ask you a question, and I am afraid ?

”Of what are you afraid, Miss Constance?”

”That you would reward me with one of your severe looks, which would petrify me; and then, I am afraid I should feel uncomfortable” ?

”I hope he will!” said Mrs. Evelyn, settling herself back in the corner of the sofa, and with a look at her daughter which was complacency itself ? ”I hope Mr. Carleton will, if you are guilty of any impertinence.”

”What is the question, Miss Constance?”

”I want to know what brought you out here?”

”Fie, Constance,” said her mother. ”I am ashamed of you. Do not answer her, Mr. Carleton.”

”Mr. Carleton will answer me, Mamma ? he looks benevolently upon my faults, which are entirely those of education. What was it, Mr. Carleton?”

”I suppose,” said he, smiling, ”it might be traced more or less remotely to the restlessness incident to human nature.”

”But you are not restless, Mr. Carleton,” said Florence, with a glance which might be taken as complimentary.