with her."

"Carleton! — Hum —" said Mr. Ringgan; " that must be this
young man's mother?'"

"Yes, aunt Lucy says she is here with her son, — at least she
says they were coming."

"A very gentlemanly young man, indeed," said Mr. Ringgan.

There was a grave silence. The old gentleman sat looking on
the floor; Fleda sat looking into the fire with all her might.

"Well," said Mr. Ringgan after a little, "how would you like
it, Fleda?"

"What, grandpa?"

"To go out to Paris to your aunt, with this Mrs. Carleton?"

"I shouldn't like it at all," said Fleda, smiling and letting
her eyes go back to the fire. But looking, after the pause of
a minute or two, again to her grandfather's face, she was
struck with its expression of stern anxiety. She rose
instantly, and coming to him, and laying one hand gently on
his knee, said in tones that fell as light on the ear as the
touch of a moonbeam on the water, "_You_ do not want me to go,
do you, grandpa?"

"No, dear!" said the old gentleman, letting his hand fall upon