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"One of our own ? where?" said he.
"In India," said Fleda with a glance ? "and there are I don't know how many trains leading to it ? so, better hands off, Sir."
"Where did you pick up such a spite against us?" said Mr.
Stackpole, drawing a little back and eyeing her as one would a belligerent mouse or cricket. "Will you tell me now that Americans are not prejudiced?"
"What do you call prejudice?" said Fleda, smiling.
"Oh, there is a great deal of it, no doubt, here, Mr.
Stackpole," said Mrs. Evelyn, blandly; "but we shall grow out of it in time; it is only the premature wisdom of a young people."
"And young people never like to hear their wisdom rebuked,"
said. Mr. Stackpole, bowing.
"Fleda, my dear, what for is that little significant shake of your head?" said Mrs. Evelyn, in her amused voice.
"A trifle, Ma'am."
"Covers a hidden rebuke, Mrs. Evelyn, I have no doubt, for both our last remarks. What is it, Miss Fleda? ? I dare say we can bear it."
"I was thinking, Sir, that none would trouble themselves much about our foolscap if we had not once made them wear it."
"Mr. Stackpole, you are worsted! ? I only wish Mr. Carleton had been here!" said Mrs. Evelyn, with a face of excessive delight.
"I wish he had," said Fleda, "for then I need not have spoken a word."
"Why," said Mr. Stackpole, a little irritated, "you suppose he would have fought for you against me?"
"I suppose he would have fought for truth against anybody, Sir," said Fleda.
"Even against his own interests?"
"If I am not mistaken in him," said Fleda, "he reckons his own and those of truth identical."
The shout that was raised at this by all the ladies of the family made her look up in wonderment.
"Mr. Carleton," said Mrs. Evelyn, "what do you say to that, Sir?"
The direction of the lady's eye made Fleda spring up and face about. The gentleman in question was standing quietly at the back of her chair ? too quietly, she saw, to leave any doubt of his having been there some time. Mr. Stackpole uttered an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, but Fleda stood absolutely motionless, and nothing could be prettier than her colour.
"What do you say to what you have heard, Mr. Carleton?" said Mrs. Evelyn.
Fleda's eyes were on the floor, but she thoroughly appreciated the tone of the question.
"I hardly know whether I have listened with most pleasure or pain, Mrs. Evelyn."
"Pleasure!" said Constance.
"Pain!" said Mr. Stackpole.
"I am certain Miss Ringgan was pure from any intention of giving pain," said Mrs. Evelyn, with her voice of contained fun. "She has no national antipathies, I am sure ? unless in the case of the Jews ? she is too charming a girl for that."
"Miss Ringgan cannot regret less than I a word that she has spoken," said Mr. Carleton, looking keenly at her as she drew back and took a seat a little off from the rest.
"Then why was the pain?" said Mr. Stackpole.
"That there should have been any occasion for them, Sir."
"Well, I wasn't sensible of the occasion, so I didn't feel the pain," said Mr. Stackpole, drily ? for the other gentleman's tone was almost haughtily significant. "But if I had, the pleasure of such sparkling eyes would have made me forget it.
Good evening, Mrs. Evelyn ? good evening, my gentle antagonist ? it seems to me you have learned, if it is permissible to alter one of your favourite proverbs, that it is possible to _break two windows_ with one stone. However, I don't feel that I go away with any of mine shattered."
"Fleda, my dear," said Mrs. Evelyn, laughing, "what do you say to that?"
"As he is not here, I will say nothing to it, Mrs. Evelyn,"
said Fleda, quietly drawing off to the table with her work, and again in a tremor from head to foot.
"Why, didn't you see Mr. Carleton come in?" said Edith, following her; "I did ? he came in long before you had done talking, and mamma held up her finger and made him stop; and he stood at the back of your chair the whole time listening.
Mr. Stackpole didn't know he was there either. But what's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," said Fleda; but she made her escape out of the room the next instant.
"Mamma," said Edith, "what ails Fleda?"
"I don't know, my love," said Mrs. Evelyn. "Nothing, I hope."
"There does, though," said Edith, decidedly.
"Come here, Edith," said Constance, "and don't meddle with matters above your comprehension. Miss Ringgan has probably hurt her hand with throwing stones."
"Hurt her hand!" said Edith. But she was taken possession of by her eldest sister.
"That is a lovely girl, Mr. Carleton," said Mrs. Evelyn, with an indescribable look ? outwardly benign, but beneath that most keen in its scrutiny.
He bowed rather abstractedly.
"She will make a charming little farmer's wife ? don't you think so?"
"Is that her lot, Mrs. Evelyn?" he said, with a somewhat incredulous smile.
"Why, no ? not precisely," said the lady; "you know, in the country, or you do not know, the ministers are half farmers, but I suppose not more than half; just such a mixture as will suit Fleda, I should think. She has not told me in so many words, but it is easy to read so ingenuous a nature as hers, and I have discovered that there is a most deserving young friend of mine settled at Queechy that she is by no means indifferent to. I take it for granted that will be the end of it," said Mrs. Evelyn, pinching her sofa cus.h.i.+on in a great many successive places, with a most composed and satisfied air.
But Mr. Carleton did not seem at all interested in the subject, and presently introduced another.
CHAPTER VIII.
"It is a hard matter for friends to meet: but mountains may be removed with earthquakes, and so encounter."