"I think I was well paid at the time. I remember I thought I had seen one of the prettiest sights I had ever seen in Paris."
"So I thought!" said Fleda. "It has been a pleasant picture in my imagination ever since."
There was a curious curl in the corners of Mr. Carleton's mouth, which made Fleda look an inquiry a look so innocently wistful, that his gravity gave way.
"My dear Elfie!" said he, "you are the very child you were then."
"Am I?" said Fleda. "I dare say I am, for I feel so. I have the very same feeling I used to have then, that I am a child, and you taking the care of me into your own hands."
"One half of that is true, and the other half nearly so."
"How good you always were to me!" Fleda said, with a sigh.
"Not necessary to balance the debtor and creditor items on both sides," he said, with a smile, "as the account bids fair to run a good while."
A silence again, during which Fleda is clearly not enjoying the landscape nor the fine weather.
"Elfie what are you meditating?"