But Mr. Carleton had his own notions on the subject, and they were not moved by anything his mother could say. He quietly went on with his preparations; taking very slight notice of the raillery of the young officers, answering Mrs. Evelyn with polite words, and silencing his mother as he came up with one of those looks out of his dark eyes to which she always forgave the wilfulness for the sake of the beauty and the winning power. She was completely conquered, and stepped back with even a smile.
"But, Carleton!" cried Rossitur impatiently,--"you can't ride so! you'll find it deucedly inconvenient."
"Possibly," said Mr. Carleton.
"Fleda would be a great deal better off in the stage-coach."
"Have you studied medicine, Mr. Rossitur?" said the young man. "Because I am persuaded of the contrary."
"I don't believe your horse will like it," said Thorn.
"My horse is always of my mind, sir; or if he be not I generally succeed in convincing him."
"But there is somebody else that deserves to be consulted," said Mrs. Thorn. "I wonder how little Fleda will like it."
"I will ask her when we get to our first stopping-place," said Mr. Carleton smiling. "Come, Fleda!"
Fleda would hardly have said a word if his purpose had been to put her under the horse's feet instead of on his back. But she came forward with great unwillingness and a very tremulous little heart. He must have understood the want of alacrity in her face and manner, though he took no notice of it otherwise than by the gentle kindness with which he led her to the horse-block and placed her upon it. Then mounting, and riding the horse up close to the block, he took Fleda in both hands and bidding her spring, in a moment she was safely seated before him.