Fleda was ready to laugh, cry, and be angry, in a breath. She looked straight before her, and was mum.
"That 'Rose of Cassius' is a most exquisite thing," said the doctor, recurring to the cluster of bare bushy stems in the corner of the garden. "Did Mr. Rossitur bring it with him when he came to his present residence?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Where is Mr. Rossitur now?"
Fleda replied, with a jump of her heart, that business affairs had obliged him to be away for a few days.
"And when does he expect to return?" said the doctor.
"I hope he will be home as soon as I am," said Fleda.
"Then you do not expect to remain long in the city this time?"
"I shall not have much of a winter at home if I do," said
Fleda. "We are almost at January."
"Because," said the doctor, "in that case I should have no higher gratification than in attending upon your motions. I a beg you to believe, my dear Miss Ringgan, that it would afford me the a most particular it would be most particularly grateful to me to wait upon you to a the confines of the world."