"You are weary and spent," he said gently, repossessing himself of one of her hands. "I will ask you another time what you are afraid of, and rebuke all your fears."
"I deserve nothing but rebuke now," said Fleda.
But her hand knew, by the gentle and quiet clasp in which it lay, that there was no disposition to give it.
"Do not speak to me for a minute," she said hastily as she heard some one coming.
She went to the window and stood there looking out till Mr. Carleton came to bid her good-bye.
"Will you permit me to say to Mrs. Evelyn," he said in a low tone, "that you left a piece of your property in her house and have commissioned me to bring it you?"
"Yes--" said Fleda, hesitating and looking a little confused,--"but--will you let me write a note instead, Mr. Carleton?"
"Certainly!--but what are you thinking of, Elfie? what grave doubt is lying under your brow?"
All Fleda's shadows rolled away before that clear bright eye.
"I have found by experience," she said, smiling a little but looking down,--"that whenever I tell my secret thoughts to anybody I have some reason afterwards to be sorry for it."