Methought I was—there is no
man can tell what. Methought I was, and
methought I had,—But man is
but a patched fool, if he will offer to say
what methought I had.—Midsummer
Night’s Dream.
Mrs. Evelyn drove down to the boat with Fleda and
did not leave her till she was safely put in charge
of Mrs. Renney. Fleda immediately retreated to
the innermost depths of the ladies’ cabin, hoping
to find some rest for the body at least if not forgetfulness
for the mind.
The latter was not to be. Mrs. Renney was exceeding
glad to see her and bent upon knowing what had become
of her since those days when they used to know each
other.
“You’re just the same, Miss Fleda, that
you used to be—you’re very little
altered—I can see that—though
you’re looking a good deal more thin and pale—you
had very pretty roses in your cheeks in those times.—Yes,
I know, I understood Mrs. Evelyn to say you had not
been well; but allowing for that I can see you are
just yourself still—I’m glad of it.
Do you recollect, Miss Fleda, what a little thing
you was then?”
“I recollect, very well,” said Fleda.
“I’m sure of another thing—you’re
just as good as you used to be,” said the housekeeper
looking at her complacently. “Do you remember
how you used to come into my room to see me make jelly?
I see it as well as if it was yesterday;—and
you used to beg me to let you squeeze the lemons; and
I never could refuse you, because you never did anything
I didn’t want you to; and do you mind how I
used to tie you up in a big towel for fear you would
stain your dress with the acid, and I’d stand
and watch to see you putting all your strength to
squeeze ’em clean, and be afraid that Mrs. Rossitur
would be angry with me for letting you spoil your hands,
but you used to look up and smile at me so, I couldn’t
help myself but let you do just whatever you had a
mind. You don’t look quite so light and
bright as you did in those times; but to be sure,
you ain’t feeling well! See here—just
let me pull some of these things onto this settee,
and you put yourself down there and rest—pillows—let’s
have another pillow,—there, how’s
that?”
Oh if Fleda might have silenced her! She thought
it was rather hard that she should have two talkative
companions on this journey of all others. The
housekeeper paused no longer than to arrange her couch
and see her comfortably laid down.
“And then Mr. Hugh would come in to find you
and carry you away—he never could bear
to be long from you. How is Mr. Hugh, Miss Fleda?
he used to be always a very delicate looking child.
I remember you and him used to be always together—he
was a very sweet boy! I have often said I never
saw such another pair of children. How does Mr.
Hugh have his health, Miss Fleda?”
“Not very well, just now,” said Fleda
gently, and shutting her eyes that they might reveal
less.
