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To another, not in my situation, it might have only produced a temporary grief at the near loss of a friend; but to me, who was almost alone in the world, the loss was heavy in the extreme. Whom had I to fly to for solace? there were Timothy and Fleta one who performed the duty of a servant to me, and a child. I felt that they were not sufficient, and my heart was chilled.
At first, she was inconsolable at the idea; but I reasoned with her, and the gentle, intelligent creature acknowledged that it was right. The next day my clothes came home, and I dressed myself. "Without flattery, Japhet," said Timothy, "you do look very much like a gentleman." Fleta smiled, and said the same. I thought so too, but said nothing.
We led her to a chair, and in a minute Fleta was called down. Perceiving me in the passage, she ran to me. "Stop, my dear Fleta, there is a lady in the parlour, who wishes to see you." "A lady, Japhet?" "Yes, my dear, go in." Fleta obeyed, and in a minute we heard a scream, and Fleta hastily opened the door, "Quick! quick! the lady has fallen down."
I read Kathleen's, and then hastily opened the other. It was from Nattee, or Lady H. de Clare, and ran as follows "Japhet Newland, Fleta is the daughter of Sir William de Clare. Dearly has my husband paid for his act of folly and wickedness, and to which you must know I never was a party. "Yours, "Nattee." The letter from Kathleen added more strange information.
I thought of the pain which the intelligence would give them, and their indignation towards me, when their brother first made his appearance at his father's house, mutilated; and were he to die good God! I was maddened at the idea. I had now undone the little good I had been able to do. If I had made Fleta and her mother happy, had I not plunged another family into misery?
Nay, but is that likely if, as you suppose, Melchior is Sir Henry de Clare if, as you suppose, it is he who is now trying to find out and carry off Fleta is it probable that you will gain any information from him? I have no idea that Fleta is the little girl said to have died, who was the child of his elder brother. Why so? What interest could Melchior have in stealing his own niece?
"What is the matter, my dear Fleta?" "O nothing! don't say I have been crying but I cannot bear it so many people looking at me. Don't say a word to Melchior I won't cry any more." I kissed and consoled her; she threw her arm round my neck, and remained there with her face hid for some time. We then joined the others at supper.
Even little Fleta had to practise occasionally, as we were preparing for an expedition.
Cecilia was much affected and cried very bitterly. I could not help asking Lady de Clare why she took such a strong interest in your fortunes. 'Who ought, replied Cecilia, 'if his poor Fleta does not? 'Good Heavens! Miss de Clare, are you the little Fleta whom he found with the gipsies, and talked to me so much about? 'Did you not know it? said Lady de Clare.
A platform was erected on the outside, on which were placed the musicians, and where we all occasionally made our appearance in our splendid dresses to attract the wonder of the people. There we strutted up and down, all but poor little Fleta, who appeared to shrink at the display, from intuitive modesty.
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