"This is the best spring in all grandpa's ground," said Fleda.
"The water is as good as can be."
How come you to be such a wood and water spirit? you must live out of doors. Do the trees ever talk to you? I sometimes think they do to me."
"I don't know I think I talk to them," said Fleda.
"It's the same thing," said her companion, smiling. "Such beautiful woods!"
"Were you never in the country before in the fall, Sir?"
"Not here in my own country often enough; but the woods in England do not put on such a gay face, Miss Fleda, when they are going to be stripped of their summer dress they look sober upon it the leaves wither and grow brown, and the woods have a dull russet colour. Your trees are true Yankees they 'never say die.' "
"Why are the Americans more obstinate than the English?" said
Fleda.
"It is difficult to compare unknown quantities," said Mr. Carleton laughing, and shaking his head. "I see you have good ears for the key-note of patriotism."
Fleda looked a little hard at him, but he did not explain; and indeed they were hurrying along too much for talking; leaping from stone to stone, and running down the smooth orchard slope. When they reached the last fence, but a little way from the house, Fleda made a resolute pause.
"Mr. Carleton," said she.