"It's a wonder she can hear through all that smoke," remarked
Cynthia.
"She," said Mr. Ringgan, laughing; "she's playing cook or housekeeper in yonder, getting something ready for tea. She's a busy little spirit, if ever there was one. Ah! there she is. Come here, Fleda here's your cousin Rossitur from West Point, and Mr. Carleton."
Fleda made her appearance flushed with the heat of the stove and the excitement of turning the muffins, and the little iron spatula she used for that purpose still in her hand; and a fresh and larger puff of the unsavoury blue smoke accompanied her entrance. She came forward, however, gravely, and without the slightest embarrassment, to receive her cousin's somewhat unceremonious "How do, Fleda?" and, keeping the spatula still in one hand, shook hands with him with the other. But at the very different manner in which Mr. Carleton rose and greeted her, the flush on Fleda's cheek deepened, and she cast down her eyes and stepped back to her grandfather's side with the demureness of a young lady just undergoing the ceremony of presentation.
"You come upon us out of a cloud, Fleda," said her cousin. "Is that the way you have acquired a right to the name of Fairy?"
"I am sure, no," said Mr. Carleton.
Fleda did not lift up her eyes, but her mounting colour showed that she understood both speeches.
"Because, if you are in general such a misty personage," Mr. Rossitur went on, half laughing, "I would humbly recommend a choice of incense."
"O, I forgot to open the windows!" exclaimed Fleda, ingenuously. "Cynthy, wont you, please, go and do it! And take this with you," said she, holding out the spatula.
" She is as good a fairy as I want to see," said her grandfather, passing his arm fondly round her. "She carries a ray of sunshine in her right hand; and that's as magic-working a wand as any fairy ever wielded hey, Mr. Carleton?"
Mr. Carleton bowed. But whether the sunshine of affection in Fleda's glance and smile at her grandfather, made him feel that she was above a compliment, or whether it put the words out of his head, certain it is that he uttered none.