Mr. Carleton smiled, and went out to press forward the arrangements. In spite of good words and good money there was some delay. It was rather late before the cavalcade left the inn; and a journey of several hours was before them. Mr. Carleton rode rather slowly, too, for Fleda's sake, so the evening had fallen while they were yet a mile or two from the city.
His little charge had borne the fatigue well, thanks partly to his admirable care, and partly to her quiet pleasure in being with him. She had been so perfectly still for some distance, that he thought she had dropped asleep. Looking down closer, however, to make sure about it, he saw her thoughtful clear eyes most unsleepily fixed upon the sky.
"What are you gazing at, Elfie?"
The look of thought changed to a look of affection as the eyes were brought to bear upon him, and she answered with a smile,
"Nothing, I was looking at the stars."
"What are you dreaming about?"
"I wasn't dreaming," said Fleda, "I was thinking."
"Thinking of what?"
"Oh, of pleasant things."
"Mayn't I know them? I like to hear of pleasant things."