"Will you trust me to watch over and tell you?"
Fleda did not trust her voice to tell him, but her eyes did it.
"As to the estimate the remedy is to 'keep ourselves in the
love of God;' and then these things are the gifts of our
Father's hand, and will never be put in competition with him.
And they are never so sweet as when taken so."
"Oh, I know that!"
"This is a danger I share with you. We will watch over each other."
Fleda was silent with filling eyes.
"We do not seek our happiness in these things," he said, tenderly. "I never found it in them. For years, whatever others may have judged, I have felt myself a poor man; because I had not in the world a friend in whom I could have entire sympathy. And if I am rich now, it is not in any treasure that I look to enjoy in this world alone."
"Oh, do not, Mr. Carleton!" exclaimed Fleda, bowing her head in distress, and giving his hand an earnest entreaty.
"What shall I not do?" said he, half laughing and half gently, bringing her face near enough for his lips to try another kind of eloquence. "You shall not do this, Elfie, for any so light occasion. Was this the whole burden of those grave thoughts?"
"Not quite entirely" she said, stammering. "But grave thoughts are not always unhappy."