Volume Ii Part 94 (1/2)

said Fleda; ? ”I had been thinking of all these things ?”

”And what else?”

Her colour and her silence begged him not to ask. He said no more, and let her stand still again, looking off through the roses, while her mind more quietly and lightly went over the same train of thoughts that had moved it before; gradually calmed; came back from being a stranger to being at home, at least in one presence; and ended, her action even before her look told him where, as her other hand unconsciously was joined to the one already on his arm. A mute expression of feeling, the full import of which he read, even before her eye, coming back from its musings, was raised to him, perhaps unconsciously, too, with all the mind in it; its timidity was not more apparent than its simplicity of clinging affection and dependence. Mr. Carleton's answer was in three words, but in the tone and manner that accompanied them there was a response to every part of her appeal ? so perfect that Fleda was confused at her own frankness.

They began to move towards the house, but Fleda was in a maze again and could hardly realize anything. ”His wife!” ? was she that? ? had so marvellous a change really been wrought in her?

? the little asparagus-cutter of Queechy transformed into the mistress of all this domain, and of the stately mansion of which they caught glimpses now and then, as they drew near it by another approach into which Mr. Carleton had diverged. And his wife! ? that was the hardest to realise of all.

She was as far from realising it when she got into the house.

They entered now at once into the breakfast-room, where the same party were gathered whom she had met once before that morning. Mr. Carleton the elder, and Lord Peterborough and Lady Peterborough, she had met without seeing. But Fleda could look at them now; and if her colour came and went as frankly as when she was a child, she could speak to them and meet their advances with the same free and sweet self-possession as then ? the rare dignity a little wood-flower, that is moved by a breath, but recovers as easily and instantly its quiet standing. There were one or two who looked a little curiously at first to see whether this new member of the family were worthy of her place and would fill it to satisfy them. Not Mr.

Carleton; he never sought to ascertain the value of anything that belonged to him by a popular vote; and his own judgment always stood carelessly alone. But Mrs. Carleton was less sure of her own ground, or of others. For five minutes she noted Fleda's motions and words, her blushes and smiles, as she stood talking to one and another ? for five minutes, and then, with a little smile at her sister, Mrs. Carleton moved off to the breakfast-table, well pleased that Lady Peterborough was too engaged to answer her. Fleda had won them all. Mr.

Carleton's intervening s.h.i.+eld of grace and kindness was only needed here against the too much attention or attraction that might distress her. He was again, now they were in presence of others, exactly what he had been to her when she was a child ?

the same cool and efficient friend and protector. n.o.body in the room showed less thought of her, _except_ in action; a great many little things done for her pleasure or comfort, so quietly that n.o.body knew it but one person, and she hardly noticed it at the time. All could not have the same tact.

There was an uninterrupted easy flow of talk at the table, which Fleda heard just enough to join in where it was necessary; the rest of the time she sat in a kind of abstraction, dipping enormous strawberries one by one into white sugar, with a curious want of recognition between them and the ends of her fingers; it never occurred to her that they had picked baskets full.

”I have done something for which you will hardly thank me, Mr.

Carleton,” said Lord Peterborough. ”I have driven this lady to tears within the first hour of her being in the house.”

”If she will forgive you, I will, my lord,” Mr. Carleton answered, carelessly.

”I will confess myself, though,” continued his lords.h.i.+p, looking at the face that was so intent over the strawberries, ”I was under the impression, when I first saw a figure in the window, that it was Lady Peterborough. I own, as soon as I found it was a stranger, I had my suspicions, which did not lack confirmation in the course of the interview. I trust I am forgiven the means I used.”

”It seems you had your curiosity, too, my lord,” said Mr.

Carleton, the uncle.

”Which ought, in all justice, to have lacked gratification,”

said Lady Peterborough. ”I hope Fleda will not be too ready to forgive you.”

”I expect forgiveness, nevertheless,” said he, looking at Fleda. ”Must I wait for it?”

”I am much obliged to you, Sir.”

And then she gave him a very frank smile and blush, as she added, ”I beg pardon ? you know my tongue is American.”

”I don't like that,” said his lords.h.i.+p, gravely.

”Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh,” said the elder Carleton. ”The heart being English, we may hope the tongue will become so too.”

”I will not a.s.sure you of that, Sir,” Fleda said, laughing, though her cheeks showed the conversation was not carried on without effort. Oddly enough, n.o.body saw it with any dissatisfaction.

”Of what, Madam?” said Lord Peterborough.

”That I will not always keep a rag of the stars and stripes flying somewhere.”

But that little speech had almost been too much for her equanimity.

”Like Queen Elizabeth, who retained the crucifix when she gave up the profession of Popery.”