"And some men's minds," said Fleda. "I was speaking only in the general."
Her eye half unconsciously reiterated her meaning as she shook hands with Mr. Carleton. And without speaking a word for other people to hear, his look and smile in return were more than an answer. Fleda sat for some time after he was gone trying to think what it was in eye and lip which had given her so much pleasure. She could not make out anything but approbation,--the look of loving approbation that one gives to a good child; but she thought it had also something of that quiet intelligence--a silent communication of sympathy which the others in company could not share.
She was roused from her reverie by Mrs. Evelyn.
"Fleda my dear, I am writing to your aunt Lucy--have you any message to send?"
"No Mrs. Evelyn--I wrote myself to-day."
And she went back to her musings.
"I am writing about you, Fleda," said Mrs. Evelyn, again in a few minutes.
"Giving a good account, I hope, ma'am," said Fleda smiling.
"I shall tell her I think sea-breezes have an unfavourable effect upon you," said Mrs. Evelyn;--"that I am afraid you are growing pale; and that you have clearly expressed yourself in favour of a garden at Queechy rather than any lot in the city--or anywhere else;--so she had better send for you home immediately."
Fleda tried to find out what the lady really meant; but Mrs. Evelyn's delighted amusement did not consist with making the matter very plain. Fleda's questions did nothing but aggravate the cause of them, to her own annoyance; so she was fain at last to take her light and go to her own room.