Queechy Volume Ii Part 64

That day was spent by Fleda in the never-failing headache which was sure to visit her after any extraordinary nervous agitation, or too great mental or bodily trial. It was severe this time, not only from the anxiety of the preceding night, but from the uncertainty that weighed upon her all day long.

The person who could have removed the uncertainty came, indeed, to the house, but she was too ill to see anybody.

The extremity of pain wore itself off with the day, and at evening she was able to leave her room and come down stairs.

But she was ill yet, and could do nothing but sit in the corner of the sofa, with her hair unbound, and Florence gently bathing her head with cologne. Anxiety as well as pain had, in some measure, given place to exhaustion, and she looked a white embodiment of endurance, which gave a shock to her friends' sympathy. Visitors were denied, and Constance and Edith devoted their eyes and tongues at least to her service, if they could do no more.

It happened that Joe Manton was out of the way, holding an important conference with a brother usher next door, ? a conference that he had no notion would be so important when he began it, when a ring on his own premises summoned one of the maid-servants to the door. She knew nothing about "not at home," and unceremoniously desired the gentleman to "walk up,"

? "the ladies were in the drawing-room."

The door had been set wide open for the heat, and Fleda was close in the corner behind it, gratefully permitting Florence's efforts with the _cologne_, which yet she knew could avail nothing but the kind feelings of the operator; for herself ? patiently waiting her enemy's time. Constance was sitting on the floor looking at her.

"I can't conceive how you can bear so much," she said, at length.

Fleda thought how little she knew what was borne!

"Why, you could bear it, I suppose, if you had to," said Edith, philosophically.

"She knows she looks most beautiful," said Florence, softly pa.s.sing her cologned hands down over the smooth hair ? "she knows

' Il faut souffrir pour etre belle.' "

"La migraine ne se guerit avec les douceurs," said Mr.

Carleton, entering ? "try something sharp, Miss Evelyn."

"Where are we to get it?" said Constance, springing up, and adding, in a most lack-a-daisical aside to her mother ?

"Mamma! ? the fowling-piece! ? Our last vinegar hardly comes under the appellation; and you don't expect to find anything volatile in this house, Mr. Carleton?"

He smiled.

"Have you none for grave occasions, Miss Constance?"

"I wont retort the question about 'something sharp,' " said Constance, arching her eyebrows, "because it is against my principles to make people uncomfortable; but you have certainly brought in some medicine with you, for Miss Ringgan's cheeks, a little while ago, were as pure as her mind ? from a tinge of any sort ? and now, you see ?"

"My dear Constance," said her mother, "Miss Ringgan's cheeks will stand a much better chance if you come away and leave her in peace. How can she get well with such a chatter in her ears?"

"Mr. Carleton and I, Mamma, are conferring upon measures of relief, and Miss Ringgan gives token of improvement already."

"For which I am very little to be thanked," said Mr. Carleton.

"But I am not a bringer of bad news, that she should look pale at the sight of me."

"Are you a bringer of any news?" said Constance, "Oh, do let us have them, Mr. Carleton! ? I am dying for news ? I haven't heard a bit to-day."

"What is the news, Mr. Carleton?" said her mother's voice, from the more distant region of the fire.

"I believe there are no general news, Mrs. Evelyn."

"Are there any particular news?" said Constance. "I like particular news infinitely the best."

"I am sorry, Miss Constance, I have none for you. But, will this headache yield to nothing?"

"Fleda prophesied that it would to time," said Florence; "she would not let us try much beside."

"And I must confess there has been no volatile agency employed at all," said Constance; "I never knew time have less of it, and Fleda seemed to prefer him for her physician."

"He hasn't been a good one to-day," said Edith, nestling affectionately to her side. "Isn't it better, Fleda?" for she had covered her eyes with her hand.

"Not just now," said Fleda, softly.

"It is fair to change physicians if the first fails," said Mr.

Carleton. "I have had a slight experience in headache-curing; if you will permit me, Miss Constance, I will supersede time and try a different prescription."

He went out to seek it, and Fleda leaned her head in her hand, and tried to quiet the throbbing heart, every pulsation of which was felt so keenly at the seat of pain. She knew, from Mr. Carleton's voice and manner ? she _thought_ she knew ? that he had exceeding good tidings for her; once a.s.sured of that, she would soon be better; but she was worse now.

"Where is Mr. Carleton gone?" said Mrs. Evelyn.

"I haven't the least idea, Mamma ? he has ventured upon an extraordinary undertaking, and has gone off to qualify himself, I suppose. I can't conceive why he didn't ask Miss Ringgan's permission to change her physician instead of mine."

"I suppose he knew there was no doubt about that," said Edith, hitting the precise answer of Fleda's thoughts.

"And what should make him think there was any doubt about mine?" said Constance, tartly.

"Oh, you know," said her sister, "you are so odd, n.o.body can tell what you will take a fancy to."

"You are extremely liberal in your expressions, at least, Miss Evelyn, I must say," said Constance, with a glance of no doubtful meaning. "Joe ? did you let Mr. Carleton in?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Well, let him in next time, and don't let in anybody else."

Whereafter the party relapsed into silent expectation.

It was not many minutes before Mr. Carleton returned.

"Tell your friend, Miss Constance," he said, putting an exquisite little vinaigrette into her hand, "that I have nothing worse for her than that."

"Worse than this!" said Constance, examining it. "Mr.

Carleton, I doubt exceedingly whether smelling this will afford Miss Ringgan any benefit."

"Why, Miss Constance?"

"Because it has made me sick only to look at it!"

"There will be no danger for her," he said, smiling.

"Wont there? Well, Fleda, my dear, here, take it," said the young lady; "I hope you are differently const.i.tuted from me, for I feel a sudden pain since I saw it; but as you keep your eyes shut, and so escape the sight of this lovely gold chasing, perhaps it will do you no mischief."