"I know that too," said Fleda weeping. "How do people bear life that do not know it!"
"Or that cannot take the comfort of it. Thou art not poor nor alone while thou hast him to go to, little Fleda.--And you are not losing me yet, my child; you will have time, I think, to grow as well satisfied as I with the prospect."
"Is that possible,--for others?" said Fleda.
The mother sighed, as her son entered the room.
He looked uncommonly grave, Fleda thought. That did not surprise her, but it seemed that it did his mother, for she asked an explanation. Which however he did not give.
"So you've got back from New York," said he.
"Just got back, yesterday," said Fleda.
"Why didn't you stay longer?"
"I thought my friends at home would be glad to see me," said Fleda. "Was I mistaken?"
He made no answer for a minute, and then said,