"No, I don't believe but what I could get along with Mr. Carleton well enough; I never see any one that knowed how to behave himself better."
Fleda gave her a smiling acknowledgment of this compliment.
"He's plenty of money, ha'n't he?"
"I believe so."
"You'll be sot up like a princess, and never have nothing to do no more."
"Oh, no!" said Fleda, laughing; "I expect to have a great deal to do; if I don't find it, I shall make it."
"I guess it 'll be pleasant work," said Barby. "Well, I don't care; you've done work enough since you've lived here that wa'n't pleasant, to play for the rest of your days; and I'm glad on't. I guess he don't hurt himself. You wouldn't stand it much longer to do as you have been doing lately."
"That couldn't be helped," said Fleda; "but that I may stand it to-morrow, I am afraid we must go to bed, Barby."
Barby bade her good-night, and left her; but Fleda's musing mood was gone. She had no longer the desire to call back the reminiscences of the old walls. All that page of her life, she felt, was turned over; and, after a few minutes' quiet survey of the familiar things, without the power of moralizing over them as she could have done half an hour before, she left them, for the next day had no eyes but for business.
It was a trying week or two before Mr. Rossitur and his family were fairly on shipboard. Fleda, as usual, and more than usual with the eagerness of affection that felt its opportunities numbered, and would gladly have concentrated the services of years into days wrought, watched, and toiled, at what expense to her own flesh and blood Mrs. Rossitur never knew, and the others were too busy to guess; but Mrs. Carleton saw the signs of it, and was heartily rejoiced when they were fairly gone and Fleda was committed to her hands.