her. She had seized upon an interminable long gray stocking
her aunt was knitting, and sat in the corner working at it
most diligently, without raising her eyes unless spoken to.

"Do you give yourself no rest, at home or abroad, Miss Fleda?"
said the gentleman.

"Put that stocking down, Fleda," said her aunt; "it is in no
hurry."

"I like to do it, aunt Miriam."

But she felt, with warming cheeks, that she did not like to do
it with two people sitting still and looking at her. The
gentleman presently rose.

"Don't go till we have had tea, Mr. Olmney," said Mrs.
Plumfield.

"Thank you, Ma'am; I cannot stay, I believe, unless Miss Fleda
will let me take care of her down the hill by and by."

"Thank you, Mr. Olmney," said Fleda, "but I am not going home
before night, unless they send for me."

"I am afraid," said he, looking at her, "that the agricultural
turn has proved an overmatch for your energies."

"The farm don't complain of me, does it?" said Fleda, looking
up at him with a comic, grave expression of countenance.