"My dear Fleda, shall I tell him you will go?--You need not be afraid to go riding, only you must not let yourself be seen walking with him."
"I shall not go, ma'am," said Fleda quietly.
"I wanted to send Edith with you, thinking it would be pleasanter; but I knew Mr. Carleton's carriage would hold but two to-day. So what shall I tell him?"
"I am not going, ma'am," repeated Fleda.
"But what shall I tell him? I must give him some reason. Shall I say that you think a sea-breeze is blowing, and you don't like it?--or shall I say that prospects are a matter of indifference to you?"
Fleda was quite silent, and went on dressing herself with trembling fingers.
"My dear Fleda," said the lady bringing her face a little into order,--"won't you go?--I am very sorry--"
"So am I sorry," said Fleda. "I can't go, Mrs. Evelyn."
"I will tell Mr. Carleton you are very sorry," said Mrs. Evelyn, every line of her face drawing again,--"that will console him; and let him hope that you will not mind sea-breezes by and by, after you have been a little longer in the neighbourhood of them. I will tell him you are a good republican, and have an objection at present to an English equipage, but I have no doubt that it is a prejudice which will wear off."
She stopped to laugh, while Fleda had the greatest difficulty not to cry. The lady did not seem to see her disturbed brow; but recovering herself after a little, though not readily, she bent forward and touched her lips to it in kind fashion. Fleda did not look up; and saying again, "I will tell him, dear Fleda!"--Mrs. Evelyn left the room.