was something in Fleda out of the reach of her discernment,
and consequently beyond the walk of her skill; and
felt, rather uneasily, that more delicate hands were
needed to guide so delicate a nature. Mrs. Evelyn
came nearer the point. She was very pleasant,
and she knew how to do things in a charming way; and
there were times, frequently, when Fleda thought she
was everything lovely. But yet, now and then a
mere word, or look, would contradict this fair promise,
a something of hardness which Fleda could not
reconcile with the soft gentleness of other times;
and on the whole Mrs. Evelyn was unsure ground to
her; she could not adventure her confidence there.
With Mr. Carleton alone Fleda felt at home. He
only, she knew, completely understood and appreciated
her. Yet she saw also that with others he was
not the same as with her. Whether grave or gay
there was about him an air of cool indifference, very
often reserved and not seldom haughty; and the eye
which could melt and glow when turned upon her, was
sometimes as bright and cold as a winter sky.
Fleda felt sure however that she might trust him entirely
so far as she herself was concerned; of the rest she
stood in doubt. She was quite right in both cases.
Whatever else there might be in that blue eye, there
was truth in it when it met hers; she gave that truth
her full confidence and was willing to honour every
draught made upon her charity for the other parts of
his character.
He never seemed to lose sight of her. He was
always doing something for which Fleda loved him,
but so quietly and happily that she could neither
help his taking the trouble nor thank him for it.
It might have been matter of surprise that a gay young
man of fashion should concern himself like a brother
about the wants of a little child; the young gentlemen
down stairs who were not of the society in the dressing-room
did make themselves very merry upon the subject, and
rallied Mr. Carleton with the common amount of wit
and wisdom about his little sweetheart; a raillery
which met the most flinty indifference. But none
of those who saw Fleda ever thought strange of anything
that was done for her; and Mrs. Carleton was rejoiced
to have her son take up the task she was fain to lay
down. So he really, more than any one else, had
the management of her; and Fleda invariably greeted
his entrance into the room with a faint smile, which
even the ladies who saw agreed was well worth working
for.
Chapter IX.
If large possessions, pompous titles,
honourable charges, and
profitable commissions, could have made
this proud man happy, there
would have been nothing wanting.—L’Estrange.
Several days had passed. Fleda’a cheeks
had gained no colour, but she had grown a little stronger,
and it was thought the party might proceed on their
way without any more tarrying; trusting that change
and the motion of travelling would do better things
for Fleda than could be hoped from any further stay
at Montepoole. The matter was talked over in an
evening consultation in the dressing-room, and it
was decided that they would set off on the second
day thereafter.
