"Seth Plumfield!" said Fleda, almost as much frightened at the sound of her own voice as he was. He stopped immediately, with a start, and came up to the little gate behind which she was standing, but said nothing.
"What are you doing here?"
"You oughtn't to be out without anything on," said he "you're fixing to take your death."
He had good reason to say so. But she gave him no more heed than the wind.
"What are you waiting here for? What do you want?"
"I have nothing better to do with my time," said he; "I thought I'd walk up and down here a little. You go in!"
"Are you waiting to see uncle Rolf?" she said, with teeth chattering.
"You mustn't stay out here," said he, earnestly; "you're like nothing but a spook this minute I'd rather see one, or a hull army of 'em. Go in, go in!"
"Tell me if you want to see him, Seth."
"No, I don't I told you I didn't."