misplace the real worth of prosperity; unless the mind has been steadied by another kind of experience, and has learnt to measure things by a higher scale."

"And how when they have been accustomed to it?" said Florence.

"The same danger, without the 'especially,'" said Fleda, with a look that disclaimed any assuming.

"One thing is certain," said Constance, veaux riches make a graceful use of anything. all of your last speech that I understand. upon the rest."

66

you hardly ever see les nouFleda my dear, I am seconding Mamma, I perceive, is at work

"I think we ought all to be at work upon it," said Mrs. Evelyn, "for Miss Ringgan has made it out that there is hardly anybody here that is qualified to wear prosperity well."

66

"I was just thinking so," said Florence.

Fleda said nothing, and perhaps her colour rose a little.

66

"I will take lessons of her," said Constance, with eyebrows just raised enough to neutralize the composed gravity of the other features, ' as soon as I have an amount of prosperity that will make it worth while."

"But I don't think," said Florence, "that a graceful use of things is consistent with such a careful valuation and considering of the exact worth of everything-it's not my idea of grace."

"Yet propriety is an essential element of gracefulness, Miss Evelyn." "Well," said Florence, "certainly; but what then?"

"Is it attainable, in the use of means, without a nice knowledge of their true value?"

"But, Mr. Carleton, I am sure I have seen improper things-things improper in a way—graeefully done ?”

"No doubt; but Miss Evelyn," said he smiling, "the impropriety did not in those cases, I presume, attach itself to the other quality. The graceful manner was strictly proper to its ends, was it not, however, the ends might be false ?"

"I don't know," said Florence; "you have gone too deep for me. But do you think that close calculation, and all that sort of thing, is likely to make people use money, or anything else, gracefully? I never thought it did."

"Not close calculation alone," said Mr. Carleton.

"But do you think it is consistent with gracefulness?"

"The largest and grandest views of material things that man has ever taken, Miss Evelyn, stand upon a basis of the closest calculation."

Florence worked at her worsted, and looked very dissatisfied.

"Oh, Mr. Carleton," said Constance as he was going, "don't leave your vinaigrette-there it is on the table."

He made no motion to take it up. "Don't you know, Miss Constance,

that physicians seldom like to have anything to do with their own prescriptions ?"

"It's very suspicious of them," said Constance; "but you must take it Mr. Carleton, if you please, for I shouldn't like the responsibility of its being left here; and I am afraid it would be dangerous to our peace of mind, besides."

"I shall risk that," he said laughing. "Its work is not done."

"And then, Mr. Carleton," said Mrs. Evelyn, and Fleda knew with what a look," you know physicians are accustomed to be paid when their prescriptions are taken."

But the answer to this was only a bow, so expressive in its air of haughty coldness that any further efforts of Mrs. Evelyn's wit were chilled for some minutes after he had gone.

Fleda had not seen this. She had taken up the vinaigrette, and was thinking with acute pleasure that Mr. Carleton's manner last night and tonight had returned to all the familiar kindness of old times. Not as it had been during the rest of her stay in the city. She could be quite contented now to have him go back to England, with this pleasant remembrance left her. She sat turning over the vinaigrette, which to her fancy was covered with hieroglyphics that no one else could read; of her uncle's affair, of Charlton's danger, of her own distress, and the kindness which had wrought its relief, more penetrating and pleasant than even the fine aromatic scent which fairly typified it. Constance's voice broke in upon her musings.

"Isn't it awkward ?" she said, as she saw Fleda handling and looking at the pretty toy, "isn't it awkward? I shan't have a bit of rest now for fear something will happen to that. I hate to have people do such things!"

"Fleda, my dear," said Mrs. Evelyn, "I wouldn't handle it, my love; you may depend there is some charm in it-some mischievous hidden influence, and if you have much to do with it I am afraid you will find a gradual coldness stealing over you, and a strange forgetfulness of Queechy, and you will, perhaps, lose your desire ever to go back there any more."

The vinaigrette dropped from Fleda's fingers, but beyond a heightened colour and a little tremulous gravity about the lip, she gave no other sign of

emotion.

"Mamma," said Florence laughing, "you are too bad!"

"Mamma," said Constance, "I wonder how any tender sentiment for you can continue to exist in Fleda's breast! By the way, Fleda, my dear, do you know that we have heard of two escorts for you? But I only tell you because I know you'll not be fit to travel this age.'

"I should not be able to travel to-morrow," said Fleda.

"They are not going to-morrow," said Mrs. Evelyn quietly.

"Who are they?"-" Excellent ones," said Mrs. Evelyn. "One of them is your old friend, Mr. Olmney."

"Mr. Olmney !" said Fleda.

"What has brought him to New York?" “Really,” said Mrs. Evelyn laughing, “I do not know. What should keep him away? I was very glad to see him, for my part. come to take you home."

Maybe he has "Who is the other?" said Fleda. "That's another old friend of yours -Mrs. Renney."

---

"Mrs. Renney? who is she?" said Fleda.- "Why, don't you know? Mrs. Renney-she used to live with your aunt Lucy in some capacity— years ago, when she was in New York; housekeeper, I think; don't you remember her?"

"Perfectly now," said Fleda. "Mrs. Renney!'

"She has been housekeeper for Mrs. Schenck these several years, and she is going somewhere out West to some relation, her brother I believe, to take care of his family; and her road leads her your way."

"When do they go, Mrs. Evelyn ?”- -"Both the same day, and both the day after to-morrow. Mr. Olmney takes the morning train, he says, unless you would prefer some other; I told him you were very anxious to go; and Mrs. Renney goes in the afternoon. So there's a choice for you."

"Mamma," said Constance, "Fleda is not fit to go at all, either time." "I don't think she is," said Mrs. Evelyn. "But she knows best what she likes to do."

Thoughts and resolutions came swiftly one after another into Fleda's mind and were decided upon in as quick succession. First, that she must go the day after to-morrow, at all events. Second, that it should not be with Mr. Olmney. Third, that to prevent that, she must not see him in the meantime, and therefore-yes, no help for it-must refuse to see anyone that called the next day; there was to be a party in the evening, so then she would be safe. No doubt Mr. Carleton would come, to give her a more particular account of what he had done, and she wished unspeakably to hear it; but it was not possible that she should make an exception in his favour and admit him alone. That could not be. If friends would only be simple and straightforward and kind, one could afford to be straightforward too; but as it was she must not do what she longed to do and they would be sure to misunderstand. There was indeed the morning of the day following left her if Mr. Olmney did not take it into his head to stay. And it might issue in her not seeing Mr. Carleton at all, to bid good-bye and thank him? He would not think her ungrateful, he knew better than that, but stillwell, so much for kindness!

"What are you looking so grave about?" said Constance.

ing ways and means," Fleda said with a slight smile.

"Ways and means of what?"-" Going."

"You don't mean to go the day after to-morrow?”—“Yes.”

"Consider

"It's too absurd for anything! You sha'n't do it."--"I must indeed."

"Mamma,” said Constance, "if you permit such a thing, I shall hope that memory will be a fingerboard of remorse to you, pointing to Miss Ringgan's pale cheeks."

"I shall charge it entirely upon Miss Ringgan's own fingerboard," said Mrs. Evelyn, with her complacently amused face. "Fleda, my dear, shall I request Mr. Olmney to delay his journey for a day or two, my love, till you are stronger?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Evelyn! I shall go then; if I am not ready in the morning I will take Mrs. Renney in the afternoon-I would quite as lief go with her."" Then I will make Mr. Olmney keep to his first purpose," said Mrs. Evelyn.

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. Lewis would probably absent himself, but Fleda could not endure even the chance of seeing his mother. She wanted to know, but dared not ask, whether Mr. Carleton had been to see her. What if to-morrow morning should pass without her seeing him? Fleda pondered this uncertainty a little, and then jumped out of bed and wrote him the heartiest little note of thanks and remembrance that tears would let her write; sealed it, and carried it herself to the nearest branch of the despatch post the first thing next morning.

She took a long look that same morning at the little vinaigrette which still lay on the centre-table, wishing very much to take it upstairs and pack it away among her things. It was meant for her she knew, and she wanted it as a very pleasant relic from the kind hands that had given it; and besides, he might think it odd if she should slight his intention. But how odd it would seem to him if he knew that the Evelyn's had half appropriated it. And appropriate it anew, in another direction, she could not. She could not without their knowledge, and they would put their own absurd construction on what was a simple matter of kindness; she could not brave it.

The morning, a long one it was, had passed away; Fleda had just finished packing her trunk, and was sitting with a faint-hearted feeling of body and mind, trying to rest before being called to her early dinner, when Florence came to tell her it was ready.

"Mr. Carleton was here a while ago," she said, "and he asked for you; but mamma said you were busy; she knew you had enough to tire you without coming downstairs to see him. He asked when you thought of going."

"What did you tell him?"-" I told him, 'Oh, you were not gone yet?' it's such a plague to be bidding people good-bye-I always want to get rid Was I right?"

of it.

Fleda said nothing, but in her heart she wondered what possible concern it could be of her friends if Mr. Carleton wanted to see her before she went away. She felt it was unkind-they did not know how unkind, for they did not understand that he was a very particular friend and an old friend --they could not tell what reason there was for her wishing to bid him good-bye. She thought she should have liked to do it very much.

CHAPTER XLVII.

Methought I was-there is no man can tell what. Methought I was and methought I had. But man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. Mid summer Night's Dream.

M

RS. EVELYN drove down to the boat with Fleda and did not leave her till she was safely put in charge of Mrs. Renney. Fleda immediately retreated to the innermost depths of the ladies' cabin, hoping to find some rest for the body at least if not forgetfulness for the mind.

The latter was not to be. Mrs. Renney was exceeding glad to see her and bent upon knowing what had become of her since those days when they used to know each other.

"You're just the same, Miss Fleda, that you used to be--you're very little altered-I can see that-though you're looking a great deal more thin and pale-you had very pretty roses in your cheeks in those times. Yes, I know, I understood Mrs. Evelyn to say you had not been well; but allowing for that I can see you are just yourself still. I'm glad of it. Do you recollect, Miss Fleda, what a little thing you was then?"-"I recollect very well," said Fleda.

"I'm sure of another thing-you're just as good as you used to be," said the housekeeper, looking at her complacently. "Do you remember how you used to come into my room to see me make jelly. I see it as well as if it was yesterday; and you used to beg me to let you squeeze the lemons; and I never could refuse you, because you never did anything I didn't want you to; and do you mind how I used to tie you up in a big towel for fear you would stain your dress with the acid, and I'd stand and watch to see you putting all your strength to squeeze 'em clean, and be afraid that Mrs. Rossitur would be angry with me for letting you spoil your hands, but you used to look up and smile at me so, I couldn't help myself but let you do just whatever you had a mind. You don't look quite so light and bright as you did in those times; but to be sure, you ain't feeling well! See herejust let me pull some of these things on to this settee, and you put yourself down there and rest-pillows-let's have another pillow, there, how's that?"

Oh if Fleda might have silenced her! She thought it was rather hard that she should have two talkative companions on this journey of all others.