"It must be there already, I think, Miss Fleda; but at any rate you know my mother must perform her promise to your aunt Mrs. Rossitur; and she would not do that without letting your grandfather know how glad she would be to take you."
Fleda stood silent a moment, and then with a touching look of waiting patience in her sweet face suffered Mr. Carleton to help her over the fence; and they went home.
To Fleda's unspeakable surprise it was found to be past four o'clock, and Cynthy had supper ready. Mr. Ringgan with great cordiality invited Mr. Carleton to stay with them, but he could not; his mother would expect him to dinner.
"Where is your mother?"
"At Montepoole, Sir; we have been to Niagara, and came this way on our return, partly that my mother might fulfil the promise she made Mrs. Rossitur to let you know, Sir, with how much pleasure she will take charge of your little granddaughter, and convey her to her friends in Paris, if you can think it best to let her go."
"Hum! she is very kind," said Mr. Ringgan, with a look of grave and not unmoved consideration which Fleda did not in the least like; "How long will you stay at Montepoole Sir?"
"It might be several days," Mr. Carleton said.
"Hum You have given up this day to Fleda, Mr. Carleton, suppose you take to-morrow for the game, and come here and try our country fare when you have got through shooting? you and young Mr. Rossitur? and I'll think over this question and let you know about it."
Fleda was delighted to see that her friend accepted this invitation with apparent pleasure.
"You will be kind enough to give my respects to your mother," Mr. Ringgan went on, "and thanks for her kind offer. I may perhaps I don't know avail myself of it. If anything should bring Mrs. Carleton this way we should like to see her. I am glad to see my friends," he said, shaking the young gentleman's hand, "as long as I have a house to ask 'em to!"