"You didn't pick them all yourself?"
"Hugh helped me a little while; but he had the horse to get ready, and I was out before him this morning--poor fellow, he was tired from yesterday, I dare say."
Mrs. Rossitur looked at her, a look between remonstrance and reproach, and cast her eyes down without saying a word, swallowing a whole heartful of thoughts and feelings. Fleda stooped forward till her own forehead softly touched Mrs. Rossitur's, as gentle a chiding of despondency as a very sunbeam could have given.
"Now aunt Lucy!--what do you mean? Don't you know it's good for me?--And do you know, Mr. Sweet will give me four shillings a bushel; and aunt Lucy, I sent three dozen heads of lettuce this morning besides. Isn't that doing well? and I sent two dozen day before yesterday. It is time they were gone, for they are running up to seed, this set; I have got another fine set almost ready."
Mrs. Rossitur looked at her again, as if she had been a sort of terrestrial angel.
"And how much will you get for them?"
"I don't know exactly--threepence, or sixpence perhaps,--I guess not so much--they are so easily raised; though I don't believe there are so fine as mine to be seen in this region.--If I only had somebody to water the strawberries!--we should have a great many. Aunt Lucy, I am going to send as many as I can without robbing uncle Rolf--he sha'n't miss them; but the rest of us don't mind eating rather fewer than usual? I shall make a good deal by them. And I think these morning rides do Hugh good; don't you think so?"
"And what have you been busy about ever since breakfast, Fleda?"
"O--two or three things," said Fleda lightly.
"What?"