Whereafter the party relapsed into silent expectation.
It was not many minutes before Mr. Carleton returned.
"Tell your friend, Miss Constance," he said, putting an exquisite little vinaigrette into her hand, "that I have nothing worse for her than that."
"Worse than this!" said Constance, examining it. "Mr. Carleton, I doubt exceedingly whether smelling this will afford Miss Ringgan any benefit."
"Why, Miss Constance?"
"Because it has made me sick only to look at it!"
"There will be no danger for her," he said, smiling.
"Wont there? Well, Fleda, my dear, here, take it," said the young lady; "I hope you are differently constituted from me, for I feel a sudden pain since I saw it; but as you keep your eyes shut, and so escape the sight of this lovely gold chasing, perhaps it will do you no mischief."
"It will do her all the more good for that," said Mrs. Evelyn.
The only ears that took the benefit of this speech were Edith's and Mr. Carleton's; Fleda's were deafened by the rush of feeling. She very little knew what she was holding. Mr. Carleton stood with rather significant gravity, watching the effect of his prescription, while Edith beset her mother to know why the outside of the vinaigrette, being of gold, should make it do Fleda any more good; the disposing of which question effectually occupied Mrs. Evelyn's attention for some time.