October had come; and a fair season and a fine harvest had enabled Fleda to ease her mind by sending a good remittance to Dr. Gregory. The family were still living upon her and Hugh's energies. Mr. Rossitur talked of coming home, that was all.
It sometimes happened that a pause in the urgency of business permitted Hugh to take a day's holiday. One of these falling soon after the frosts had opened the burrs of the chestnut trees and the shells of the hickories, Fleda seized upon it for a nutting frolic. They took Philetus and went up to the fine group of trees on the mountain, the most difficult to reach and the best worth reaching of all their nut wood. The sport was very fine; and after spoiling the trees Philetus was left to "shuck" and bring home a load of the fruit; while Fleda and Hugh took their way slowly down the mountain. She stopped him, as usual, on the old lookout place. The leaves were just then in their richest colouring; and the October sky in its strong vitality seemed to fill all inanimate nature with the breath of lile. If ever, then on that day, to the fancy, "the little hills rejoiced on every side." The woods stood thick with honours, and earth lay smiling under the tokens of the summer's harvest and the promise for the coming year; and the wind came in gusts over the lower country and up the hill-side with a hearty good-will that blew away all vapours, physical and mental, from its path, bidding everything follow its example and be up and doing. Fleda drew a long breath or two that seemed to recognize its freshening power.
Philetus was left to "shuck" and bring home a load of the fruit.
"How long it seems," she said,--"how very long--since I was here with Mr. Carleton;--just nine years ago. How changed everything is! I was a little child then. It seems such an age ago!--"
"It is very odd he didn't come to see us," said Hugh.
"He did--don't you know?--the very next day after we heard he was here--when most unluckily I was up at aunt Miriam's."
"I should think he might have come again, considering what friends you used to be."
"I dare say he would if he had not left Montepoole so soon. But dear Hugh! I was a mere child--how could he remember me much."
"You remember him," said Hugh.