"Elfleda!"
She hastened back to the bedside.
"Kiss me."
He let her do so twice, without moving, and then holding her to his breast he pressed one long earnest passionate kiss upon her lips, and released her.
Fleda told Cynthy that her grandfather wished her to come to him, and then mounted the stairs, to her little bedroom. She went to the window, and opening it, looked out at the soft moonlit sky; the weather was mild again, and a little hazy, and the landscape was beautiful. But little Fleda was tasting realities, and she could not go off upon dream-journeys to seek the light food of fancy through the air. She did not think to-night about the people the moon was shining on; she only thought of one little sad anxious heart, and of another down stairs, more sad and anxious still, she feared; what could it be about? Now that Mr. Jolly had settled all that troublesome business with McGowan?
As she stood there at the window, gazing out aimlessly into the still night, it was very quiet, she heard Cynthy at the back of the house, calling out, but as if she were afraid of making too much noise, "Watkins! Watkins!"
The sound had business, if not anxiety, in it. Fleda instinctively held her breath to listen. Presently she heard Watkins reply; but they were round the corner, she could not easily make out what they said. It was only by straining her ears that she caught the words.
"Watkins, Mr. Ringgan wants you to go right up on the hill to Mis' Plumfield's, and tell her he wants her to come right down he thinks" the voice of the speaker fell, and Fleda could only make out the last words "Dr. James." More was said, but so thick and low that she could understand nothing.
She had heard enough. She shut the window, trembling, and fastened again the parts of her dress she had loosened; and softly and hastily went down the stairs into the kitchen.
"Cynthy! what is the matter with grandpa!"