Volume Ii Part 85 (2/2)
”It was not soon to him, Elfie.”
”He told me to thank you for singing. How little while it seems since we were children together ? how little while since before that ? when I was a little child here ? how different!”
”No, the very same,” said he, touching his lips to her forehead ? ”you are the very same child you were then; but it is time you were my child, for I see you would make yourself ill. No,” said he, softly, taking the hand Fleda raised to her face ? ”no more to-night ? tell me how early I may see you in the morning ? for, Elfie, I must leave you after breakfast.”
Fleda looked up inquiringly.
”My mother has brought news that determines me to return to England immediately.”
”To England!”
”I have been too long from home ? I am wanted there.”
Fleda looked down again, and did her best not to show what she felt.
”I do not know how to leave you ? and now ? but I must. There are disturbances among the people, and my own are infected. I _must_ be there without delay.”
”Political disturbances?” said Fleda.
”Somewhat of that nature ? but partly local. How early may I come to you?”
”But you are not going away to-night? It is very late.”
”That is nothing ? my horse is here.”
Fleda would have begged in vain, if Barby had not come in and added her word, to the effect that it would be a mess of work to look for lodgings at that time of night, and that she had made the west room ready for Mr. Carleton. She rejected with great sincerity any claim to the thanks with which Fleda as well as Mr. Carleton repaid her; ”there wa'n't no trouble about it,” she said. Mr. Carleton, however, found his room prepared for him with all the care that Barby's utmost ideas of refinement and exactness could suggest.
It was still very early the next morning when he left it and came into the sitting-room, but he was not the first there.
The firelight glimmered on the silver and china of the breakfast table, all set; everything was in absolute order, from the fire to the two cups and saucers which were alone on the board. A still silent figure was standing by one of the windows looking out. Not crying; but that Mr. Carleton knew from the unmistakeable lines of the face was only because tears were waiting another time; quiet now, it would not be by and by. He came and stood at the window with her.
”Do you know,” he said, after a little, ”that Mr. Rossitur purposes to leave Queechy?”
”Does he?” said Fleda, rather starting, but she added not another word, simply because she felt she could not safely.
”He has accepted, I believe, a consuls.h.i.+p at Jamaica.”
”Jamaica!” said Fleda. ”I have heard him speak of the West Indies ? I am not surprised ? I knew it was likely he would not stay here.”
How tightly her fingers that were free grasped the edge of the window-frame. Mr. Carleton saw it and softly removed them into his own keeping.
”He may go before I can be here again. But I shall leave my mother to take care of you, Elfie.”
”Thank you,” said Fleda, faintly. ”You are very kind ?”
”Kind to myself,” he said, smiling. ”I am only taking care of my own. I need not say that you will see me again as early as my duty can make it possible; ? but I may be detained, and your friends may be gone ? Elfie ? give me the right to send if I cannot come for you. Let me leave my wife in my mother's care.”
Fleda looked down, and coloured, and hesitated; but the expression in her face was not that of doubt.
”Am I asking too much?” he said, gently.
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