Mrs. Rossitur was struck with it one morning. She was coming down from her room and saw Fleda standing on the landing-place gazing out of the window. It was before breakfast one cold morning in winter. Mrs. Rossitur put her arms round her softly and kissed her.
"What are you thinking about, dear Fleda?--you ought not to be standing here."
"I was looking at Hugh," said Fleda, and her eye went back to the window. Mrs. Rossitur's followed it. The window gave them a view of the ground behind the house; and there was Hugh, just coming in with a large armful of heavy wood which he had been sawing.
"He isn't strong enough to do that, aunt Lucy," said Fleda softly.
"I know it," said his mother in a subdued tone, and not moving her eye, though Hugh had disappeared.
"It is too cold for him--he is too thinly clad to bear this exposure," said Fleda anxiously.
"I know it," said his mother again.
"Can't you tell uncle Rolf?--can't you get him to do it? I am afraid Hugh will hurt himself, aunt Lucy."
"I did tell him the other day--I did speak to him about it," said Mrs. Rossitur; "but he said there was no reason why Hugh should do it,--there were plenty of other people--"
"But how can he say so when he knows we never can ask Lucas to do anything of the kind, and that other man always contrives to be out of the way when he is wanted?--Oh what is he thinking of?" said Fleda bitterly, as she saw Hugh again at his work.