"Were you ever angry, Elfie?"
"I don't know " said Fleda. " I don't know but I have."
He smiled to see that, although evidently her memory could not bring the charge, her modesty would not deny it.
"Were you not angry yesterday with your cousin and that unmannerly friend of his?"
"No," said Fleda, a shade crossing her face "I was not angry "
And as she spoke, her hand was softly put upon Mr. Carleton's, as if partly in the fear of what might have grown out of his anger, and partly in thankfulness to him that he had rendered it unnecessary. There was a singular delicate timidity and tenderness in the action.
"I wish I had your secret, Elfie," said Mr. Carleton, looking wistfully into the clear eyes that met his.
"What secret?" said Fleda, smiling.
"You say one can always do right is that the reason you are happy? because you follow that out?"
"No," said Fleda, seriously. "But I think it is a great deal pleasanter."