Volume Ii Part 42 (2/2)
”Seth Plumfield!” said Fleda, almost as much frightened at the sound of her own voice as he was. He stopped immediately, with a start, and came up to the little gate behind which she was standing, but said nothing.
”What are you doing here?”
”You oughtn't to be out without anything on,” said he ?
”you're fixing to take your death.”
He had good reason to say so. But she gave him no more heed than the wind.
”What are you waiting here for? What do you want?”
”I have nothing better to do with my time,” said he; ”I thought I'd walk up and down here a little. You go in!”
”Are you waiting to see uncle Rolf?” she said, with teeth chattering.
”You mustn't stay out here,” said he, earnestly; ”you're like nothing but a spook this minute ? I'd rather see one, or a hull army of 'em. Go in, go in!”
”Tell me if you want to see him, Seth.”
”No, I don't ? I told you I didn't.”
”Then why are you waiting for him?”
”I thought I'd see if he was coming home to-night ? I had a word to say if I could catch him before he got into the house.”
”_Is_ he coming home to-night?” said Fleda.
”I don't know!” said he, looking at her. ”Do you!”
Fleda burst open the gate between them, and putting her hands on his, implored him to tell her what was the matter. He looked singularly disturbed; his fine eye twinkled with compa.s.sion; but his face, never a weak one, showed no signs of yielding now.
”The matter is,” said he, pressing hard both her hands, ”that you are fixing to be down sick in your bed by to-morrow. You mustn't stay another second.”
”Come in, then.”
”No ? not to-night.”
”You wont tell me?”
”There is nothing I can tell you ? maybe there'll be nothing to tell ? run in, run in, and keep quiet.”
Fleda hurried back to the house, feeling that she had gone to the limit of risk already. Not daring to show herself to Hugh in her chilled state of body and mind, she went into the kitchen.
”Why, what on earth's come over you!” was Barby's terrified e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, when she saw her.
”I have been out and got myself cold ?”
”Cold!” said Barby ? ”you're looking dreadful! What on earth ails you, Fleda?”
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