Queechy Volume I Part 25

SYR CAULINE.

That evening, the last of their stay at Montepoole, Fleda was thought well enough to take her tea in company. So Mr.

Carleton carried her down, though she could have walked, and placed her on the sofa in the parlour.

Whatever disposition the young officers might have felt to renew their pleasantry on the occasion, it was shamed into silence. There was a pure dignity about that little pale face which protected itself. They were quite struck, and Fleda had no reason to complain of want of attention from any of the party. Mr. Evelyn kissed her. Mr. Thorn brought a little table to the side of the sofa for her cup of tea to stand on, and handed her the toast most dutifully; and her cousin Rossitur went back and forth between her and the tea-urn. All of the ladies seemed to take immense satisfaction in looking at her, they did it so much; standing about the hearth-rug with their cups in their hands, sipping their tea. Fleda was quite touched with everybody's kindness, but somebody at the back of the sofa, whom she did not see, was the greatest comfort of all.

"You must let me carry you upstairs when you go, Fleda," said her cousin. "I shall grow quite jealous of your friend, Mr.

Carleton."

"No," said Fleda, smiling a little, ? "I shall not let any one but him carry me up, ? if he will."

"We shall all grow jealous of Mr. Carleton," said Thorn. "He means to monopolize you, keeping you shut up there, upstairs."

"He didn't keep me shut up," said Fleda.

Mr. Carleton was welcome to monopolize her, if it depended on her vote.

"Not fair play, Carleton," continued the young officer, wisely shaking his head, ? "all start alike, or there's no fun in the race. You've fairly distanced us ? left us nowhere."

He might have talked Chinese, and been as intelligible to Fleda, ? and as interesting to Guy, for all that appeared.

"How are we going to proceed to-morrow, Mr. Evelyn?" said Mrs.

Carleton. "Has the missing stage-coach returned yet? or will it be forthcoming in the morning?"

"Promised, Mrs. Carleton. The landlord's faith stands pledged for it."

"Then it wont disappoint us, of course. What a dismal way of travelling!"

"This young country hasn't grown up to post-coaches yet," said Mrs. Evelyn.

"How many will it hold?" inquired Mrs. Carleton.

"Hum! ? nine inside, I suppose."

"And we number ten, with the servants."

"Just take us," said Mr. Evelyn. "There's room on the box for one."

"It will not take me," said Mr. Carleton.

"How will you go? ride?" said his mother. "I should think you would, since you have found a horse you like so well."

"By George! I wish there was another that _I_ liked," said Rossitur, "and I'd go on horseback too. Such weather! The landlord says it's the beginning of Indian summer."

"It's too early for that," said Thorn.

"Well, eight inside will do very well for one day," said Mrs.

Carleton. "That will give little Fleda a little more s.p.a.ce to lie at her ease."

"You may put Fleda out of your calculations, too, mother,"

said Mr. Carleton. "I will take care of her."

"How in the world," exclaimed his mother, ? "if you are on horseback?"

And Fleda twisted herself round so as to give a look of bright inquiry at his face. She got no answer beyond a smile, which, however, completely satisfied her. As to the rest, he told his mother that he had arranged it, and they should see in the morning. Mrs. Carleton was far from being at ease on the subject of his arrangements, but she let the matter drop.

Fleda was secretly very much pleased. She thought she would a great deal rather go with Mr. Carleton in the little wagon than in the stage-coach with the rest of the people. Privately she did not at all admire Mr. Thorn or her cousin Rossitur.

They amused her though; and feeling very much better and stronger in body, and at least quiet in mind, she sat in tolerable comfort on her sofa, looking and listening to the people who were gaily talking around her.

In the gaps of talk she sometimes thought she heard a distressed sound in the hall. The buzz of tongues covered it up, ? then again she heard it, ? and she was sure at last that it was the voice of a dog. Never came an appeal in vain from any four-footed creature to Fleda's heart. All the rest being busy with their own affairs she quietly got up and opened the door and looked out, and finding that she was right, went softly into the hall. In one corner lay her cousin Rossitur's beautiful black pointer, which she well remembered, and had greatly admired several times. The poor creature was every now and then uttering short cries, in a manner as if he would not but they were forced from him.

"What is the matter with him?" asked Fleda, stepping fearfully towards the dog, and speaking to Mr. Carleton, who had come out to look after her. As she spoke, the dog rose, and came crouching and wagging his tail to meet them.

"Oh, Mr. Carleton!" Fleda almost screamed, ? "look at him!

Oh, what is the matter with him! he's all over b.l.o.o.d.y! Poor creature!" ?

"You must ask your cousin, Fleda," said Mr. Carleton, with as much cold disgust in his countenance as it often expressed; and that is saying a good deal.

Fleda could speak in the cause of a dog, where she would have been silent in her own. She went back to the parlour, and begged her cousin, with a face of distress, to come out into the hall, ? she did not say for what. Both he and Thorn followed her. Rossitur's face darkened as Fleda repeated her enquiry, her heart so full by this time, as hardly to allow her to make any.

"Why, the dog didn't do his duty, and has been punished," he said, gloomily.

"Punished!" said Fleda.

"Shot," said Mr. Carleton, coolly.

"Shot!" exclaimed Fleda, bursting into heartwrung tears ?

"shot! Oh, how _could_ any one do it! Oh, how could you, how could you, cousin Charlton!"

It was a picture. The child was crying bitterly, her fingers stroking the poor dog's head with a touch in which lay, oh what tender healing, if the will had but had magnetic power!

Carleton's eye glanced significantly from her to the young officers. Rossitur looked at Thorn.

"It was not Charlton ? it was I, Miss Fleda," said the latter.

"Charlton lent him to me to-day, and he disobeyed me, and so I was angry with him, and punished him a little severely; but he'll soon get over it."

But all Fleda's answer was, "I am very sorry! ? I am very sorry! ? poor dog!" ? and to weep such tears as made the young gentlemen for once ashamed of themselves. It almost did the child a mischief. She did not get over it all the evening. And she never got over it, as far as Mr. Thorn was concerned.

Mrs. Carleton hoped, faintly, that Guy would come to reason by the next morning, and let Fleda go in the stage-coach with the rest of the people. But he was as unreasonable as ever, and stuck to his purpose. She had supposed, however, with Fleda, that the difference would be only an open vehicle and his company instead of a covered one and her own. Both of them were sadly discomfited when on coming to the hall door to take their carriages, it was found that Mr. Carleton's meaning was no less than to take Fleda before him on horseback. He was busy even then in arranging a cushion on the pommel of the saddle for her to sit upon. Mrs. Carleton burst into indignant remonstrances; Fleda silently trembled.

But Mr. Carleton had his own notions on the subject, and they were not moved by anything his mother could say. He quietly went on with his preparations; taking very slight notice of the raillery of the young officers, answering Mrs. Evelyn with polite words, and silencing his mother as he came up with one of those looks out of his dark eyes to which she always forgave the wilfulness for the sake of the beauty and the winning power. She was completely conquered, and stepped back with even a smile.

"But, Carleton!" cried Rossitur, impatiently; "you can't ride so! you'll find it deucedly inconvenient."

"Possibly," said Mr. Carleton.

"Fleda would be a great deal better off in the stage-coach."

"Have you studied medicine, Mr. Rossitur?" said the young man.