"It will do her all the more good for that," said Mrs. Evelyn.
The only ears that took the benefit of this speech were Edith's and Mr. Carleton's; Fleda's were deafened by the rush of feeling. She very little knew what she was holding. Mr. Carleton stood with rather significant gravity watching the effect of his prescription, while Edith beset her mother to know why the outside of the vinaigrette being of gold should make it do Fleda any more good; the disposing of which question effectually occupied Mrs. Evelyn's attention for some time.
"And pray how long is it since you took up the trade of a physician, Mr. Carleton?" said Constance.
"It is--just about nine years, Miss Constance," he answered gravely.
But that little reminder, slight as it was, overcame the small remnant of Fleda's self-command; the vinaigrette fell from her hands and her face was hid in them; whatever became of pain, tears must flow.
"Forgive me," said Mr. Carleton gently, bending down towards her, "for speaking when I should have been silent.--Miss Evelyn, and Miss Constance, will you permit me to order that my patient be left in quiet."
And he took them away to Mrs. Evelyn's quarter, and kept them all three engaged in conversation, too busily to trouble Fleda with any attention; till she had had ample time to try the effect of the quiet and of the vinegar both. Then he went himself to look after her.
"Are you better?" said he, bending down and speaking low.
Fleda opened her eyes and gave him, what a look!--of grateful feeling. She did not know the half that was in it; but he did. That she was better was a very small item.
"Ready for the coffee?" said he smiling.