"And what kind of a lady is that?" said Mrs. Fothergill.
But Mr. Spenser was too wise to enter into any particulars and merely informed Mrs. Fothergill that she would know in a few days.
"The first words Mrs. Carleton said when Mr. Carleton got home," said the old butler,--"she put both her hands on his arms and cried out, 'Guy, I am delighted with her!'"
"And what did he say?" said Mrs. Fothergill.
"He!" echoed Mr. Spenser in a tone of indignant intelligence,--"what should he say?--He didn't say anything; only asked where she was, I believe."
In the midst of silks, muslins and jewels Mr. Carleton found Fleda still on his return; looking pale and even sad, though nobody but himself through her gentle and grateful bearing would have discerned it. He took her out of the hands of the committee and carried her down to the little library, adjoining the great one, but never thrown open,--his room, as it was called, where more particularly art and taste had accumulated their wealth of attractions.
"I remember this very well," said Fleda. "This beautiful room!"
"It is as free to you as to me, Elfie; and I never gave the freedom of it to any one else."
"I will not abuse it," said Fleda.
"I hope not, my dear Elfie," said he smiling,--"for the room will want something to me now when you are not in it; and a gift is abused that is not made free use of."