Volume Ii Part 95 (2/2)

”You shall give me a reward, then, Elfie.”

”What reward?” said Elfie.

”Promise me that you will shed them nowhere else.”

”Nowhere else?”

”But here ? in my arms.”

”I don't feel like crying any more now,” said Fleda, evasively; ”at least,” ? for drops were falling rather fast again ? ”not sorrowfully.”

”Promise me, Elfie,” said Mr. Carleton, after a pause.

But Fleda hesitated still, and looked dubious.

”Come!” he said, smiling ? ”you know you promised a little while ago that you would have a particular regard to my wishes.”

Fleda's cheeks answered that appeal with sufficient brightness, but she looked down, and said, demurely ?

”I am sure one of your wishes is, that I should not say anything rashly.”

”Well?”

”One cannot answer for such wilful things as tears.”

”And for such wilful things as men?” said he, smiling.

But Fleda was silent.

”Then I will alter the form of my demand. Promise me that no shadow of anything shall come over your spirit that you do not let me either share or remove.”

There was no trifling in the tone, full of gentleness as it was; there could be no evading its requisition. But the promise demanded was a grave one. Fleda was half afraid to make it. She looked up, in the very way he had seen her do when a child, to find a warrant for her words before she uttered them. But the full, clear, steadfast eye into which she looked for two seconds, authorised as well as required the promise; and hiding her face again on his breast, Fleda gave it, amid a gush of tears, every one of which was illumined with heart-suns.h.i.+ne.

THE END.

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