'Talk not of wasted affection: affection never was wasted:
If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters returning
Back to their springs, shall fill them full of refreshment.
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the
fountain.' "
"How very plain it is that was written by a man," said Fleda.
"Why?" said Mr. Carleton, laughing.
"I always thought it was so exquisite!" said Florence.
"I was so struck with it," said Constance, "that I have been looking ever since for an object to waste my affections upon."
"Hush, Constance!" said her mother. "Don't you like it, Mr.
Carleton?"
"I should like to hear Miss Ringgan's commentary," said Mr. Stackpole; "I can't anticipate it. I should have said the sentiment was quite soft and tender enough for a woman."
"Don't you agree with it, Mr. Carleton?" repeated Mrs. Evelyn.
"I beg leave to second Mr. Stackpole's motion," he said, smiling.
"Fleda, my dear, you must explain yourself; the gentlemen are at a stand."