"Shall I tell mamma, Fleda," said young Rossitur, "that you put off reading her letter to bake muffins?"
Fleda answered without looking up, "Yes, if he pleased."
"What do you suppose she will think?"
"I don't know."
"She will think that you love muffins better than her."
"No," said Fleda, quietly but firmly,--"she will not think that, because it isn't true."
The gentlemen laughed, but Mr. Carleton declared that Fleda's reasoning was unanswerable.
"Well, I will see you to-morrow," said Mr. Rossitur, "after you have read the letter, for I suppose you will read it sometime. You should have had it before,--it came enclosed to me,--but I forgot unaccountably to mail it to you till a few days ago."
"It will be just as good now, sir," said Mr. Ringgan.
"There is a matter in it though," said Rossitur, "about which my mother has given me a charge. We will see you to-morrow. It was for that partly we turned out of our way this evening."