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Queechy Volume Ii Part 35

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"I expect that an immediate depopulation of New York will commence," said Constance, "and go on till the heights about Queechy are all thickly settled with elegant country seats, which is the conventional term for a species of mouse-trap."

"Hush, you baggage," said her father. "Fleda, I wish you could spare her a little of your common sense, to go through the world with."

"Papa thinks, you see, my dear, that you have _more than enough_, which is not, perhaps, precisely the compliment he intended."

"I take the full benefit of his and yours," said Fleda, smiling.

After dinner, she had just time to run down to the library to bid Dr. Gregory good-bye ? her last walk in the city. It wasn't a walk she enjoyed much.



"Going to-morrow!" said he. "Why, I am going to Boston in a week, you had better stay, and go with me."

"I can't now, uncle Orrin, I am dislodged, and you know there is nothing to do then but to go."

"Come and stay with me till next week."

But Fleda said it was best not, and went home to finish her preparations.

She had no chance till late, for several gentlemen spent he evening with them. Mr. Carleton was there part of the time, but he was one of the first to go; and Fleda could not find an opportunity to say that she should not see him again. Her timidity would not allow her to make one. But it grieved her.

At last she escaped to her own room, where most of her packing was still to do. By the time half the floor and all the bed was strewn with neat-looking piles of things ? the varieties of her modest wardrobe ? Florence and Constance came in to see and talk with her, and sat down on the floor too; partly, perhaps, because the chairs were all bespoken in the service of boxes and baskets, and partly to follow what seemed to be the prevailing style of things.

"What do you suppose has become of Mr. Thorn?" said Constance.

"I have a presentiment that you will find him cracking nuts sociably with Mr. Rossitur, or drinking one of aunt Lucy's excellent cups of coffee, in comfortable expectation of your return."

"If I thought that, I should stay here," said Fleda. "My dear, those were my cups of coffee."

"I wish I could make you think it, then," said Constance.

"But you are glad to go home, aren't you, Fleda?" said Florence.

"She isn't," said her sister. "She knows Mamma contemplates making a grand entertainment of all the Jews, as soon as she is gone. What _does_ mamma mean by that, Fleda? I observe you comprehend her with most invariable quickness."

"I should be puzzled to explain all that your mother means,"

said Fleda, gently, as she went on bestowing her things in the trunk. "No, I am not particularly glad to go home, but I fancy it is time. I am afraid I have grown too accustomed to your luxury of life, and want knocking about to harden me a little."

"Harden you!" said Constance. "My dear Fleda, you are under a delusion. Why should any one go through an indurating process?

Will you inform me?"

"I don't say that every one should," said Fleda; "but isn't it well for those whose lot does not lie among soft things?"

There was extreme sweetness, and a touching insinuation in her manner, and both the young ladies were silent for some time thereafter, watching somewhat wistfully the gentle hands and face that were so quietly busy, till the room was cleared again, and looked remarkably empty, with Fleda's trunk standing in the middle of it. And then, reminding them that she wanted some sleep to fit her for the hardening process, and must therefore send them away, she was left alone.

One thing Fleda had put off till then ? the care of her bunch of flowers. They were beautiful still. They had given her a very great deal of pleasure; and she was determined they should be left to no servant's hands to be flung into the street. If it had been summer, she was sure she could have got buds from them; as it was, perhaps she might strike some cuttings; at all events, they should go home with her. So, carefully taking them out of the water, and wrapping the ends in some fresh earth she had got that very afternoon from her uncle's garden, Fleda bestowed them in the corner of her trunk that she had left for them, and went to bed, feeling weary in body, and in mind to the last degree quiet.

In the same mind and mood she reached Queechy the next afternoon. It was a little before January ? just the same time that she had come home last year. As then, it was a bright day, and the country was again covered thick with the unspotted snow; but Fleda forgot to think how bright and fresh it was. Somehow she did not feel this time quite so glad to find herself there. It had never occurred to her so strongly before, that Queechy could want anything.

This feeling flew away before the first glimpse of her aunt's smile, and, for half an hour after, Fleda would have certified that Queechy wanted nothing. At the end of that time came in Mr. Rossitur. His greeting of Charlton was sufficiently unmarked; but eye and lip wakened when he turned to Fleda.

"My dear child," he said, holding her face in both his hands, "how lovely you have grown!"

"That's only because you have forgotten her, father," said Hugh, laughing.

It was a very lovely face just then. Mr. Rossitur gazed into it a moment, and again kissed first one cheek and then the other, and then suddenly withdrew his hands and turned away, with an air ? Fleda could not tell what to make of it ? an air that struck her with an immediate feeling of pain; somewhat as if for some cause or other he had nothing to do with her or her loveliness. And she needed not to see him walk the room for three minutes to know that Michigan agencies had done nothing to lighten his brow, or uncloud his character. If this had wanted confirmation, Fleda would have found it in her aunt's face. She soon discovered, even in the course of the pleasant talkative hours before supper, that it was not brightened, as she had expected to find it, by her uncle's coming home; and her ears now caught painfully the occasional long breath, but half smothered, which told of a burden upon the heart but half concealed. Fleda supposed that Mr.

Rossitur's business affairs at the West must have disappointed him; and resolved not to remember that Michigan was in the map of North America.

Still they talked on, through the afternoon and evening, all of them except him: he was moody and silent. Fleda felt the cloud overshadow sadly her own gaiety; but Mrs. Rossitur and Hugh were accustomed to it, and Charlton was much too tall a light to come under any external obscuration whatever. He was descanting brilliantly upon the doings and prospects at Fort Hamilton, where he was stationed, much to the entertainment of his mother and brother. Fleda could not listen to him, while his father was sitting lost in something not half so pleasant as sleep, in the corner of the sofa. Her eyes watched him stealthily, till she could not bear it any longer. She resolved to bring the power of her sunbeam to bear, and, going round, seated herself on the sofa close by him, and laid her hand on his arm. He felt it immediately. The arm was instantly drawn away to be put round her, and Fleda was pressed nearer to his side, while the other hand took hers; and his lips were again on her forehead.

"And how do you like me for a farmer, uncle Rolf?" she said, looking up at him, laughingly, and then fearing immediately that she had chosen her subject ill. Not from any change in his countenance, however ? that decidedly brightened up. He did not answer at once.

"My child, you make me ashamed of mankind!"

"Of the dominant half of them, Sir, do you mean?" said Charlton ? "or is your observation a sweeping one?"

"It would sweep the greatest part of the world into the background, Sir," answered his father, drily, "if its sense were the general rule."

"And what has Fleda done to be such a besom of desolation?"

Fleda's laugh set everybody else a-going, and there was immediately more life and common feeling in the society than had been all day. They all seemed willing to shake off a weight, and even Fleda, in the endeavour to chase the gloom that hung over others, as it had often happened, lost half of her own.

"But still I am not answered," said Charlton, when they were grave again. "What has Fleda done to put such a libel upon mankind?"

"You should call it a _label_, as Dr. Quackenboss does," said Fleda, in a fresh burst; "he says he never would stand being labelled!"

"But come back to the point," said Charlton; "I want to know what is the label in this case, that Fleda's doings put upon those of other people?"

"Insignificance," said his father, drily.

"I should like to know how bestowed," said Charlton.

"Don't enlighten him, uncle Rolf," said Fleda, laughing; "let my doings remain in safe obscurity, please."

"I stand as a representative of mankind," said Charlton, "and I demand an explanation."

"Look at what this slight frame and delicate nerves have been found equal to, and then tell me if the broad shoulders of all your mess would have borne half the burden, or their united heads accomplished a quarter the results."

He spoke with sufficient depth of meaning, though now with no unpleasant expression. But Charlton, notwithstanding, rather gathered himself up.

"Oh, uncle Rolf," said Fleda, gently, "nerves and muscles haven't much to do with it; after all, you know, I have just served the place of a mouthpiece. Seth was the head, and good Earl Dougla.s.s the hand."

"I am ashamed of myself and of mankind," Mr. Rossitur repeated, "when I see what mere weakness can do, and how proudly valueless strength is contended to be. You are looking, Captain Rossitur; but, after all, a cap and plume really makes a man taller only to the eye."

"When I have flung my plume in anybody's face, Sir," said Charlton, rather hotly, "it will be time enough to throw it back again."

Mrs. Rossitur put her. hand on his arm, and looked her remonstrance.

"Are you glad to be home again, dear Fleda?" she said, turning to her.

But Fleda was making some smiling communications to her uncle, and did not seem to hear.

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