“Poor child!” said Mrs. Rossitur sadly,—“I
can’t bear to think of her spending her life
as she is doing—wearing herself out, I know,
sometimes—and buried alive.”
“Buried!” said Charlton in his turn.
“Yes—without any of the advantages
and opportunities she ought to have. I can’t
bear to think of it. And yet how should I ever
live without her!”—said Mrs. Rossitur,
leaning her face upon her hands. “And if
she were known she would not be mine long. But
it grieves me to have her go without her music that
she is so fond of, and the books she wants—she
and Hugh have gone from end to end of every volume
there is in the house, I believe, in every language,
except Greek.”
“Well, she looks pretty happy and contented,
mother.”
“I don’t know!” said Mrs. Rossitur
shaking her head.
“Isn’t she happy?”
“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Rossitur
again;—“she has a spirit that is happy
in doing her duty, or anything for those she loves;
but I see her sometimes wearing a look that pains
me exceedingly. I am afraid the way she lives
and the changes in our affairs have worn upon her more
than we know of—she feels doubly everything
that touches me, or Hugh, or your father. She
is a gentle spirit!—”
“She seems to me not to want character,”
said Charlton.
“Character! I don’t know who has
so much. She has at least fifty times as much
character as I have. And energy. She is admirable
at managing people—she knows how to influence
them somehow so that everybody does what she wants.”
“And who influences her?” said Charlton.
“Who influences her? Everybody that she
loves. Who has the most influence over her, do
you mean?—I am sure I don’t know—Hugh,
if anybody,—but she is rather the
moving spirit of the household.”
Capt. Rossitur resolved that he would be an exception
to her rule.
He forgot, however, for some reason or other, to sound
his father any more on the subject of mismanagement.
His thoughts indeed were more pleasantly taken up.
My
lord Sebastian,
The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness
And time to speak it in: you rub
the sore.
When you should bring the plaster.
Tempest.
The Evelyns spent several weeks at the Pool; and both
mother and daughters conceiving a great affection
for Fleda kept her in their company as much as possible
For those weeks Fleda had enough of gayety. She
was constantly spending the day with them at the Pool,
or going on some party of pleasure, or taking quiet
sensible walks and rides with them along or with only
one or two more of the most rational and agreeable
people that the place could command. And even
Mrs. Rossitur was persuaded, more times than one,
to put herself in her plainest remaining French silk
and entertain the whole party, with the addition of
one or two of Charlton’s friends, at her Queechy
farm-house.
