“Very innocently,” said Fleda with a little
unsteady feeling of voice.
“Very innocently,” said Mr. Carleton smiling.
“A veritable lens could hardly have been more
unconscious of its work or more pure of design.”
“I do not think that was quite so either, Mr.
Carleton,” said Fleda.
“It was so, my dear Elfie, and your present
speech is nothing against it. This power of example
is always unconsciously wielded; the medium ceases
to be clear so soon as it is made anything but a medium.
The bits of truth you aimed at me wittingly would
have been nothing if they had not come through that
medium.”
“Then apparently one’s prime efforts ought
to be directed to oneself.”
“One’s first efforts, certainly.
Your silent example was the first thing that moved
me.”
“Silent example!” said Fleda catching
her breath a little. “Mine ought to be
very good, for I can never do good in any other way.”
“You used to talk pretty freely to me.”
“It wasn’t my fault, I am certain,”
said Fleda half laughing. “Besides, I was
sure of my ground. But in general I never can
speak to people about what will do them any good.”
“Yet whatever be the power of silent example
there are often times when a word is of incalculable
importance.”
“I know it,” said Fleda earnestly,—“I
have felt it very often, and grieved that I could
not say it, even at the very moment when I knew it
was wanting.”
“Is that right, Elfie?”
“No,” said Fleda, with quick watering
eyes,—“It is not right at all;—but
it is constitutional with me. I never can talk
to other people of what concerns my own thoughts and
feelings.”
“But this concerns other people’s thoughts
and feelings.”
“Yes, but there is an implied revelation of
my own.”
“Do you expect to include me in the denomination
of ’other people’?”
“I don’t know,” said Fleda laughing.
“Do you wish it?”
Fleda looked down and up, and coloured, and said she
didn’t know.
“I will teach you,” said he smiling.
The rest of the day by both was given to Hugh.
O what is life but a sum of love,
And death but to lose it all?
Weeds be for those that are left behind,
And not for those that fall!
Milnes.
“Here’s something come, Fleda,”
said Barby walking into the sick room one morning
a few days afterwards,—“a great bag
of something—more than you can eat up in
a fortnight—it’s for Hugh.”
“It’s extraordinary that anybody should
send me a great bag of anything eatable,”
said Hugh.
“Where did it come from?” said Fleda.
“Philetus fetched it—he found it
down to Mr. Sampion’s when he went with the
sheep-skins.”
“How do you know it’s for me?” said
Hugh.
