“Only at that impracticable distance, mamma;
but I introduced his name afterwards in my usual happy
manner and I found that Miss Ringgan’s cheeks
were by no means indifferent to it. I didn’t
dare go any further.”
“I am very glad of it! I hope it is so!”
said Mrs. Evelyn energetically. “It would
be a most excellent match. He is a charming young
man and would make her very happy.”
“You are exciting gloomy feelings in Mr. Carleton’s
mind, mamma, by your felicitous suggestions.
Mr. Carleton, did your ears receive a faint announcement
of ham and eggs which went quite through and through
mine just now?”
He bowed and handed the young lady in; but Constance
declared that though he sat beside her and took care
of her at breakfast he had on one of his intangible
fits which drove her to the last extreme of impatience,
and captivation.
The sun was not much more than two hours high the
next morning when a rider was slowly approaching Mr.
Rossitur’s house from the bridge, walking his
horse like a man who wished to look well at all he
was passing. He paused behind a clump of locusts
and rose-acacias in the corner of the courtyard as
a figure bonneted and gloved came out of the house
and began to be busy among the rose-bushes. Another
figure presently appeared at the hall-door and called
out,
“Fleda!—”
“Well, Barby—”
This second voice was hardly raised, but it came from
so much nearer that the words could be distinctly
heard.
“Mr. Skillcorn wants to know if you’re
going to fix the flowers for him to carry?”
“They’re not ready, and it won’t
do for him to vait—Mr. Sweet must send
for them if he wants them. Philetus must make
haste back, for you know Mr. Douglass wants him to
help in the barn meadow. Lucas won’t be
here and now the weather is so fine I want to make
haste with the hay.”
“Well, will you have the samp for breakfast?”
“No—we’ll keep that for dinner.
I’ll come in and poach some eggs, Barby,—if
you’ll make me some thin pieces of toast—and
call me when it’s time. Thin, Barby.”
The gentleman turned his horse and galloped back to
Montepoole.
Some disappointment was created among a portion of
Mr. Sweet’s guests that afternoon by the intelligence
that Mr. Carleton purposed setting off the next morning
to join his English friends at Saratoga on their way
to the falls and Canada. Which purpose was duly
carried into effect.
With your leave, sir, an’ there
were no more men living upon the face of
the earth, I should not fancy him, by
St. George.—Every Man Out of
His Humour.
October had come; and a fair season and a fine harvest
had enabled Fleda to ease her mind by sending a good
remittance to Dr. Gregory. The family were still
living upon her and Hugh’s energies. Mr.
Rossitur talked of coming home, that was all.
