Fleda's lip moved nervously and her eye shunned meeting his. Softly pushing back the wet hair from his temples, she said,
"I had one of my fits of doing nothing at home--I didn't feel very bright and thought perhaps you didn't,--so on the principle that two negatives make an affirmative--"
"I feel bright," said Hugh gently.
Fleda's eye came down to his, which was steady and clear as the reflection of the sky in Deepwater lake,--and then hers fell lower.
"Why don't you, dear Fleda?"
"I believe I am a little tired," Fleda said, trying but in vain to command herself and look up,--"and there are states of body when anything almost is enough to depress one--"
"And what depresses you now?" said he, very steadily and quietly.
"O--I was feeling a little down about things in general," said Fleda in a choked voice, trying to throw off her load with a long breath;--"it's because I am tired, I suppose--"
"I felt so too, a little while ago," said Hugh. "But I have concluded to give all that up, Fleda."
Fleda looked at him. Her eyes were swimming full, but his were clear and gentle as ever, only glistening a little in sympathy with hers.