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Barby, who had come in to clear away the table, took her stand at the window to watch Mr Carleton drive off. Fleda had retreated to the fire. Barby looked in silence till the sleigh was out of sight.

"Is he going back to England now?" she said, coming back to the table.

"No."

Barby gathered a pile of plates together, and then inquired

"Is he going to settle in America?"

"Why, no, Barby! What makes you ask such a thing?" "I thought he looked as if he had dressed himself for a cold climate," said Barby, drily.

Fleda sat down by Hugh's easy-chair, and laid her head on his breast.

"I like your Mr Carleton very much," Hugh whispered, after a while.

"Do you?" said Fleda, a little wondering at Hugh's choice of that particular pronominal adjective.

"Very much indeed. But he has changed, Fleda?" "Yes-in some things-some great things."

"He says he is coming again," said Hugh.

Fleda's heart beat. She was silent.

"I am very glad," repeated Hugh, “I like him very much. But you won't leave me, Fleda-will you?"

"Leave you?" said Fleda, looking at him.

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Yes," said Hugh, smiling, and drawing her head down again; "I always thought what he came over here for. But you will stay with me while I want you, Fleda?"

"While you want me!" said Fleda, again.

"Yes. It won't be long."

"What won't be long?"

"I," said Hugh, quietly. "Not long. I am very glad I shall not leave you alone, dear Fleda-very glad!-promise me you will not leave me any more."

"Don't talk so, dear Hugh!"

"But it is true, Fleda," said Hugh, gently." I know it. I sha'n't be here but a little while. I am so glad you are come home, dear Fleda!-You will not let anybody take you away till I am gone first?"

Fleda drew her arm close around Hugh's neck, and was still still even to his ear-for a good while. A hard battle

must be fought, and she must not be weak, for his sake, and for everybody's sake. Others of the family had come, or were coming into the room. Hugh waited till a short breath, but freer drawn, told him he might speak.

"Fleda" he whispered.

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"What?"

"I am very happy.-I only want your promise about that."

Hugh."

"I can't talk to you,
"No; but promise me."
"What?"

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"That you will not let anybody take you away while I want you."

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"I am sure he would not ask it," said Fleda, hiding her cheeks and eyes at once in his breast.

CHAPTER XXII.

"Do you think I shall not love a sad Pamela as well as a joyful?"

SIDNEY.

MR CARLETON came back without his mother; she had chosen to put off her voyage till spring. He took up his quarters at Montepoole, which, far though it was, was yet the nearest point where his notions of ease could have freedom enough.

One would have thought that saw him-those most nearly concerned almost did think-that in his daily coming to Queechy, Mr Carleton sought everybody's pleasure rather than his own. He was Fleda's most gentle and kind assistant in taking care of Hugh, soon dearly valued by the sick one, who watched for and welcomed his coming as a bright spot in the day; and loved particularly to have Mr Carleton's hand do anything for him, rather than almost any other. His mother's was too feeling; Fleda's, Hugh often feared, was weary; and his father's, though gentle to him as to an infant, yet lacked the mind's training. And though Marion was his sister in blood, Guy was his brother in better bonds. The deep blue eye that little Fleda had admired, Hugh learned to love and rest on singularly.

To the rest of the family, Mr Carleton's influence was more soothing and cheering than any cause beside. To all but the head of it. Even Mrs Rossitur, after she had once made up her mind to see him, could not bear to be absent when he was in the house. The dreaded contrast with old times gave no pain either to her or Marion. Mr Carleton forgot so completely that there was any difference, that they were charmed into forgetting it too. But Mr Rossitur's pride lay deeper, or had been less humbled by sorrow; the recollections that his family let slip never failed to gall him, when Mr Carleton was present; and if now and then, for a moment, these were banished by his guest's graces of mind and manner, the next breath was a sigh

for the circles and the pleasures they served to recall, now seeming for ever lost to him. Mr Carleton perceived that his company gave pain and not pleasure to his host, and for that reason was the less in the house, and made his visits to Hugh at times when Mr Rossitur was not in the way. Fleda he took out of the house and away with him, for her good and

his own.

To Fleda, the old childish feeling came back, that she was in somebody's hands who had a marvellous happy way of managing things about her, and even of managing herself. A kind of genial atmosphere, that was always doing her good, yet so quietly and so skilfully, that she could only now and then get a chance even to look her thanks. Quietly and efficiently he was exerting himself to raise the tone of her mind, to brighten her spirits, to reach those sober lines that years of patience had drawn round her eye and mouth, and charm them away. So gently, so indirectly, by efforts so wisely and gracefully aimed, he set about it, that Fleda did not know what he was doing; but he knew. He knew, when he saw her brow unbend and her eye catch its old light sparkle, that his conversation and the thoughts and interests with which he was rousing her mind or fancy, were working and would work all he pleased. And though the next day he might find the old look of patient gravity again, he hardly wished it not there, for the pleasure of doing it away. Hugh's anxious question to Fleda had been very uncalled for, and Fleda's assurance was well grounded; that subject was never touched upon.

Fleda's manner with Mr Carleton was peculiar and characteristic. In the house, before others, she was as demure and reserved as though he had been a stranger; she never placed herself near him, nor entered into conversation with him, unless when he obliged her; but when they were alone, there was a frank confidence and simplicity in her manner that most happily answered the high-bred delicacy that had called

it out.

One afternoon of a pleasant day in March, Fleda and Hugh were sitting alone together in the sick-room. Hugh was weaker than usual, but not confined to his bed; he was in his great easy-chair, which had been moved up stairs for him again. Fleda had been repeating hymns.

"You are tired," Hugh said.

"No."

"There's something about you that isn't strong," said Hugh, fondly. "I wonder where is Mr Carleton to-day. It is very pleasant, isn't it?"

"Very pleasant and warm; it is like April; the snow all went off yesterday, and the ground is dry except in spots."

"I wish he would come and give you a good walk. I have noticed how you always come back looking so much brighter after one of your walks or rides with him."

"What makes you think so, dear Hugh?" said Fleda, a little troubled.

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'Only my eyes," said Hugh, smiling.

good as you, Fleda."

"It does me as much

"I never want to go and leave you, Hugh."

"I am very glad there is somebody to take you. I wish he would come. You want it this minute."

"I don't think I shall let him take me if he comes."

"Whither? and whom?" said another voice.

"I didn't know you were there, sir," said Fleda, suddenly rising.

"I am but just here-Rolf admitted me as he passed out." Coming in between them, and still holding the hand of one, Mr Carleton bent down towards the other.

"How is Hugh to-day?"

It was pleasant to see that meeting of eyes—the grave kindliness on the one side, the confident affection on the other. But the wasted features said as plainly as the tone of Hugh's gentle reply, that he was passing away-fast.

"What shall I do for you?"

“Take Fleda out and give her a good walk. She wants it." "I will, presently. You are weary-what shall I do to rest you."

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Nothing," said Hugh, closing his eyes with a very placid look; "unless you will put me in mind of something about heaven, Mr Carleton."

"Shall I read to you?-Baxter-or something else?"

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No-just give me something to think of while you're gone -as you have done before, Mr Carleton."

"I will give you two or three of the Bible bits on that subject; they are but hints and indications, you know-rather rays of light that stream out from the place than any description of it; but you have only to follow one of these indications and see whither it will lead you. The first I recollect is that

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