"What shall I not do?" said he half laughing and half gently, bringing her face near enough for his lips to try another kind of eloquence. "You shall not do this, Elfie, for any so light occasion.--Was this the whole burden of those grave thoughts?"
"Not quite--entirely--" she said stammering. "But grave thoughts are not always unhappy."
"Not always. I want to know what gave yours a tinge of that colour this morning."
"It was hardly that.--You know what Foster says about 'power to its very last particle being duty'--I believe it frightened me a little."
"If you feel that as strongly as I do, Elfie, it will act as a strong corrective to the danger of false estimates."
"I do feel it," said Fleda. "One of my fears was that I should not feel it enough."
"One of my cares will be that you do not act upon it too fiercely," said he smiling. "The power being limited so is the duty. But you shall have power enough, Elfie, and work enough. I have precisely what I have needed--my good sprite back again."
"With a slight difference."
"What difference?"
"She is to act under direction now."