Mr. Carleton did not say what he thought. He presently took kind leave of the old lady and went into the next room, where Fleda soon rejoined him and they set off homewards.
Fleda was quietly crying all the way down the hill. At the foot of the hill Mr. Carleton resolutely slackened his pace.
"I have one consolation," he said, "my dear Elfie--you will have the less to leave for me."
She put her hand with a quick motion upon his, and roused her self.
"She is a beautiful rebuke to unbelief. But she is hardly to be mourned for, Elfie."
"Oh I was not crying for aunt Miriam," said Fleda.
"For what then?" he said gently.
"Myself."
"That needs explanation," he said in the same tone. "Let me have it, Elfie."
"O--I was thinking of several things," said Fleda, not exactly wishing to give the explanation.