Fleda made no answer; and at the parsonage door Hugh left her.
Two or three wagons were standing there, but nobody to be seen. Fleda went up the steps and crossed the broad piazza, brown and unpainted, but picturesque still, and guided by the sound of tongues turned to the right where she found a large low room, the very centre of the stir. But the stir had not by any means reached the height yet. Not more than a dozen people were gathered. Here were aunt Syra and Mrs. Douglass, appointed a committee to receive and dispose the offerings as they were brought in.
"Why there is not much to be seen yet," said Fleda. "I did not know I was so early."
"Time enough," said Mrs. Douglass. "They'll come the thicker when they do come. Good-morning, Dr. Quackenboss!--I hope you're a going to give us something else besides a bow? and I won't take none of your physic, neither."
"I humbly submit," said the doctor graciously, "that nothing ought to be expected of gentlemen that--a--are so unhappy as to be alone; for they really--a--have nothing to give,--but themselves."
There was a shout of merriment.
"And suppos'n that's a gift that nobody wants?" said Mrs, Douglass's sharp eye and voice at once.
"In that case," said the doctor, "I really--Miss Ringgan, may I--a--may I relieve your hand of this fair burden?"
"It is not a very fair burden, sir," said Fleda, laughing and relinquishing her strawberries.
"Ah but, fair, you know, I mean,--we speak--in that sense----Mrs Douglass, here is by far the most elegant offering that your hands will have the honour of receiving this day."