"Don't you like him, Fleda?"
"Certainly, aunt Miriam--very much.'
"I think he likes you, Fleda," said her aunt smiling.
"I am very sorry for it," said Fleda with great gravity.
Mrs. Plumfield looked at her for a few minutes in silence and then said,
"Fleda, love, come over here and sit by me and tell me what you mean. Why are you sorry? It has given me a great deal of pleasure to think of it."
But Fleda did not budge from her seat or her stocking and seemed tongue-tied. Mrs. Plumfield pressed for an answer.
"Because, aunt Miriam," said Fleda, with the prettiest red cheeks in the world but speaking very clearly and steadily,--"my liking only goes to a point which I am afraid will not satisfy either him or you."
"But why?--it will go further."
"No ma'am."