"But what are you going that way for? you can't go home that way?"
"Yes, I can."
"How?"
"I can cross the blackberry hill behind the barn, and then over the east hill, and then there's nothing but the water- cress meadow."
"I sha'n't let you go that way alone; sit down and tell me what you mean what is this desperate hurry?"
But, with equal precipitation, Fleda had cast her bonnet out of sight behind the table, and the next moment turned, with the utmost possible quietness, to shake hands with Mr. Olmney. Aunt Miriam had presence of mind enough to make no remark, and receive the young gentleman with her usual dignity and kindness.
He stayed some time, but Fleda's hurry seemed to have forsaken her. She had seized upon an interminable long gray stocking her aunt was knitting, and sat in the corner working at it most diligently, without raising her eyes unless spoken to.
"Do you give yourself no rest, at home or abroad, Miss Fleda?" said the gentleman.
"Put that stocking down, Fleda," said her aunt; "it is in no hurry."
"I like to do it, aunt Miriam."