"I feel bright," said Hugh, gently.
Fleda's eye came down to his, which was steady and clear as the reflection of the sky in Deepwater lake and then hers fell lower.
"Why don't you, dear Fleda?"
"I believe I am a little tired," Fleda said, trying, but in vain, to command herself and look up "and there are states of body when anything almost is enough to depress one."
"And what depresses you now?" said he, very steadily and quietly.
"Oh I was feeling a little down about things in general," said Fleda, in a choked voice, trying to throw off her load with a long breath; "it's because I am tired, I suppose "
"I felt so too, a little while ago," said Hugh. "But I have concluded to give all that up, Fleda."
Fleda looked at him. Her eyes were swimming full, but his were clear and gentle as ever, only glistening a little in sympathy with hers.
"I thought all was going wrong with us," he went on. "But I found it was only I that was wrong; and since that, I have been quite happy, Fleda."
Fleda could not speak to him; his words made her pain worse.