Volume Ii Part 81 (1/2)
Mr. Olmney presently came round to take leave, promising to see her another time; and pa.s.sing Fleda, with a frank grave pressure of the hand, which gave her some pain. He and Seth left the room. Fleda was hardly conscious that Dr. Quackenboss was still standing at the foot of the bed, making the utmost use of his powers of observation. He could use little else, for Mr. Carleton and Mrs. Plumfield, after a few words on each side, had, as it were, by common consent, come to a pause. The doctor, when a sufficient time had made him fully sensible of this, walked up to Fleda, who wished heartily at the moment that she could have presented the reverse end of the magnet to him. Perhaps, however, it was that very thing which, by a perverse sort of attraction, drew him towards her.
”I suppose ? a ? we may conclude,” said he, with a some. what saturnine expression of mischief ? ”that Miss Ringgan contemplates forsaking the agricultural line before a great while?”
”I have not given up my old habits, Sir,” said Fleda, a good deal vexed.
”No ? I suppose not ? but Queechy air is not so well suited for them ? other skies will prove more genial,” he said, she could not help thinking, pleased at her displeasure.
”What is the fault of Queechy air, Sir?” said Mr. Carleton, approaching them.
”Sir!” said the doctor, exceedingly taken aback, though the words had been spoken in the quietest manner possible ? ”it ?
a ? it has no fault, Sir ? that I am particularly aware of ?
it is perfectly salubrious. Mrs. Plumfield, I will bid you good-day; ? I ? a ? I hope you will get well again.”
”I hope not, Sir!” said aunt Miriam, in the same clear hearty tones which had answered him before.
The doctor took his departure, and made capital of his interview with Mr. Carleton; who, he affirmed, he could tell by what he had seen of him, was a very deciduous character, and not always conciliating in his manners.
Fleda waited with a little anxiety for what was to follow the doctor's leave-taking.
It was with a very softened eye that aunt Miriam looked at the two who were left, clasping Fleda's hand again; and it was with a very softened voice that she next spoke.
”Do you remember our last meeting, Sir?”
”I remember it well,” he said.
”Fleda tells me you are a changed man since that time?”
He answered only by a slight and grave bow.
”Mr. Carleton,” said the old lady ? ”I am a dying woman ? and this child is the dearest thing in the world to me after my own ? and hardly after him. Will you pardon me ? will you bear with me, if, that I may die in peace, I say, Sir, what else it would not become me to say? ? and it is for her sake.”
”Speak to me freely as you would to her,” he said, with a look that gave her full permission.
Fleda had drawn close and hid her face in her aunt's neck.
Aunt Miriam's hand moved fondly over her cheek and brow for a minute or two in silence; her eye resting there too.
”Mr. Carleton, this child is to belong to you ? how will you guide her?”
”By the gentlest paths,” he said, with a smile.
A whispered remonstrance from Fleda to her aunt had no effect.
”Will her best interests be safe in your hands?”
”How shall I resolve you of that, Mrs. Plumfield?” he said, gravely.
”Will you help her to mind her mother's prayer, and keep herself unspotted from the world?”
”As I trust she will help me.”