"I will take care of that."
Fleda looked up and smiled most expressively her thanks, and in five minutes was asleep. Mr. Carleton stood watching her, querying how long those clear eyes would have nothing to hide,--how long that bright purity could resist the corrosion of the world's breath; and half thinking that it would be better for the spirit to pass away, with its lustre upon it, than stay till self-interest should sharpen the eye, and the lines of diplomacy write themselves on that fair brow. "Better so; better so."
"What are you thinking of so gloomily, Guy?" said his Mother.
"That is a tender little creature to struggle with a rough world."
"She won't have to struggle with it," said Mrs. Carleton.
"She will do very well," said Mrs. Evelyn.
"I don't think she'd find it a rough world, where you were, Mr. Carleton," said Mrs. Thorn.
"Thank you ma'am," he said smiling. "But unhappily my power reaches very little way."
"Perhaps," said Mrs. Evelyn with a sly smile,--"that might be arranged differently--Mrs. Rossitur--I have no doubt--would desire nothing better than a smooth world for her little niece--and Mr. Carleton's power might be unlimited in its extent."
There was no answer, and the absolute repose of all the lines of the young gentleman's face bordered too nearly on contempt to encourage the lady to pursue her jest any further.