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I felt confused for a moment, as the scrutiny was unexpected from that quarter; but a few moments' reflection told me, that if Sir Henry de Clare and Melchior were the same person, and this man his agent, in all probability he had not been sent to England for nothing; that if he was in search of Fleta, he must have heard of my name, and perhaps something of my history.
He stooped down, kissed her on the forehead, and I perceived a sign of strongly suppressed emotion as he did so. Our intended routes lay in a different direction, and when both parties had arrived to either verge of the common, we waved our hands as a last farewell, and resumed our paths again. Fleta burst into tears as she turned away from her former guardians.
"Very likely," replied Timothy; "but it was the best thing the scoundrel could do, after all." "The letter was not, however, written, with that intention. I wished to frighten him, and have justice done to little Fleta poor child! how glad I shall be to see her!" The next day the newspapers contained a paragraph, in which Sir Henry de Clare was stated to have committed suicide.
Every one was content we were all glad to get back and rest from our labours. Melchior was pleased with his profits, poor little Fleta overjoyed to be once more in the seclusion of her tent, and Nattée very glad to hear of our good fortune, and to see her husband.
My heart bounded at the information; it certainly was not any clue to my own parentage, but it was an object of my solicitude, and connected with the welfare of Fleta. "If I recollect right," observed I, "there are some curious passages in the life of Sir Henry?" "Nothing very particular," observed the agent, looking out of the window. "I thought that he had disappeared for some time."
In the meantime Jumbo had blown up a brisk fire; we were employed by Fleta in shredding vegetables, which she threw into the boiling kettle. Num appeared with more fuel, and at last there was nothing more to do. Fleta sat down by us, and parting her long hair, which had fallen over her eyes, looked us both in the face. "Who gave you that name, Fleta?" inquired I. "They gave it me," replied she.
The lady who kept the school praised her very much for docility and attention, and shortly after left the room. Fleta then took the chain from around her neck into her hand, and told me that she did recollect something about it, which was, that the lady whom she remembered, wore a long pair of ear-rings, of the same make and materials. She could not, however, call to mind anything else.
He told me that from Mr Masterton he had learnt that Lady de Clare and Fleta had called upon him very much afflicted with the contents of my letter that Lord Windermear also had been very much vexed and annoyed that Mr Masterton had advised him to obtain another situation as a valet, which he had refused, and, at the same time, told him his intention of searching for me.
Copyright, 1921, by Fleta Campbell Springer. #By# WILBUR DANIEL STEELE From The Pictorial Review Among all the memories of my boyhood in Urkey Island the story of Mary Matheson and the Blake boys comes back to me now, more than any other, with the sense of a thing seen in a glass darkly. And the darkness of the glass was my own adolescence. I know that now, and I'm sorry.
"Lady de Clare has entered into society again, and her daughter, as you call her your Fleta, alias Cecilia de Clare is the belle of the metropolis. "Most certainly, sir, I will; and, as you say, I have had adventures. But it really will be a long story." "Then we'll dine here, and pass the evening together so that's settled."
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