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Updated: May 17, 2025
Carleton there and passed gently into the inner apartment, the door of which was standing ajar. But her heart absolutely leaped into her mouth, for Dr. Quackenboss and Mr. Olmney were there on either side of her aunt's bed. Fleda came forward and shook hands. "This is quite a meeting of friends," said the doctor blandly, yet with a perceptible shading of the whilome broad sunshine of his face.
Poor Fleda, though with a very sorrowful heart, kept her resolutions, and for very forlornness and weariness, slept away a great part of the next day. Neither would she appear in the evening, for fear of more people than one. It was impossible to tell whether Mrs. Evelyn's love of mischief would not bring Mr. Olmney there, and the Thorns, she knew, were invited. Mr.
Olmney came out from the pantry and came towards her, the latter bringing her, with his own hands, a portion in a tin pan. The two ladies sat down in the window together to eat and be amused. "My dear Fleda, I hope you are hungry," said Mrs. Evelyn, biting her pie, Fleda could not help thinking, with an air of good-humoured condescension. "I am, Ma'am," she said, laughing.
They rejoined him; and the baskets being now sufficiently heavy, and arms pretty well tired, they left the further riches of the pine woods unexplored, and walked sagely homewards. At the brow of the table-land, Mr. Olmney left them to take a shorter cut to the high road, having a visit to make which the shortening day warned him not to defer.
Quackenboss went on with a most benign expression of countenance, "Miss Ringgan, sir, Mr. Olmney, sets an example to all ladies who a have had elegant advantages. She gives her patronage to the agricultural interest in society." "Not exclusively, I hope?" said Mr. Olmney smiling, and making the question with his eye of Fleda. But she did not meet it.
"I know it, sir," said Fleda, her words a little choked, "and one may not wish the cloud away, but it does not the less cast a shade upon the face. I guess Hugh has worked his way into the middle of that stump by this time, Mr. Olmney."
The whole party were in excellent spirits, and as happy as the birds that filled the woods, and whose cheery "chick-a-dee-dee-dee" was heard whenever they paused to rest, and let the hatchet be still. "How one sees everything in the colour of one's own spectacles!" said Fleda. "May I ask what colour yours are to-day?" said Mr. Olmney. "Rose, I think," said Hugh.
"Fleda," said her aunt inquiringly, "is there anybody else that has put Mr. Olmney out of your head?" "Nobody in the world!" exclaimed Fleda with a frank look and tone of astonishment at the question, and cheeks colouring as promptly. "How could you ask? But he never was in my head, aunt Miriam." "Mr. Thorn?" said Mrs. Plumfield. "Mr. Thorn!" said Fleda indignantly.
"We have nothing like it in this country; of course, cannot have. One of those superb English country seats is beyond even the imagination of an American." "Nature has been as kind to us, hasn't she?" said Fleda. "O yes; but such fortunes, you know. Mr. Olmney, what do you think of those overgrown fortunes?
"Well, the first thing I do shall be to make some butternut candy for you. You won't despise that, Mr. Hugh?" Hugh smiled at her, and went on. "And your friend Mr. Olmney has sent us a corn-basket full of the superbest apples you ever saw. He has one tree of the finest in Queechy, he says." "My friend!" said Fleda, colouring a little. "Well I don't know whose he is if he isn't yours," said Hugh.
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