"I sha'n't let you go that way alone--sit down and tell me what you mean,--what is this desperate hurry?"
But with equal precipitation Fleda had cast her bonnet out of sight behind the table, and the next moment turned with the utmost possible quietness to shake hands with Mr. Olmney. Aunt Miriam had presence of mind enough to make no remark and receive the young gentleman with her usual dignity and kindness.
He staid some time, but Fleda's hurry seemed to have forsaken her. She had seized upon an interminable long grey stocking her aunt was knitting, and sat in the corner working at it most diligently, without raising her eyes unless spoken to.
"Do you give yourself no rest at home or abroad, Miss Fleda?" said the gentleman.
"Put that stocking down, Fleda," said her aunt, "it is in no hurry."
"I like to do it, aunt Miriam."
But she felt with warming cheeks that she did not like to do it with two people sitting still and looking at her. The gentleman presently rose.
"Don't go till we have had tea, Mr. Olmney," said Mrs. Plumfield.
"Thank you, ma'am,--I cannot stay, I believe,--unless Miss Fleda will let me take care of her down the hill by and by."
"Thank you, Mr. Olmney," said Fleda, "but I am not going home before night, unless they send for me."