"What on earth are you thinking of, Carleton?" said young Rossitur. "Let the nuts and Fleda alone, do!"
"By your leave, Mr. Rossitur," said Carleton. "My murderous intents have all left me, Miss Fleda,--I suppose your wand has been playing about me--and I should like nothing better than to go with you over the hills this morning. I have been a nutting many a time in my own woods at home, and I want to try it for once in the New World. Will you take me?"
"O thank you, sir!" said Fleda,--"but we have passed the turning a long way--we must go back ever so far the same way we came to get to the place where we turn off to go up the mountain."
"I don't wish for a prettier way,--if it isn't so far as to tire you, Fairy?"
"Oh it won't tire me!" said Fleda overjoyed.
"Carleton!" exclaimed young Kossitur. "Can you be so absurd! Lose this splendid day for the woodcock when we may not have another while we are here!"
"You are not a true sportsman, Mr. Rossitur," said the other coolly, "or you would know what it is to have some sympathy with the sports of others. But you will have the day for the woodcock, and bring us home a great many I hope. Miss Fleda, suppose we give this impatient young gentleman his orders and despatch him."
"I thought you were more of a sportsman," said the vexed West Pointer,--"or your sympathy would be with me."
"I tell you the sporting mania was never stronger on me," said the other carelessly. "Something less than a rifle however will do to bring down the game I am after. We will rendezvous at the little village over yonder, unless I go home before you, which I think is more probable. Au revoir!"
With careless gracefulness he saluted his disconcerted companion, who moved off with ungraceful displeasure. Fleda and Mr. Carleton then began to follow back the road they had come, in the highest good humour both. Her sparkling face told him with even greater emphasis than her words,