Mrs. Plumfield looked at her for a few minutes in silence, and
then said —

"Fleda, love, come over here and sit by me, and tell me what
you mean. Why are you sorry? It has given me a great deal of
pleasure to think of it."

But Fleda did not budge from her seat or her stocking, and
seemed tongue-tied. Mrs. Plumfield pressed for an answer.

"Because, aunt Miriam," said Fleda, with the prettiest red
cheeks in the world, but speaking very clearly and steadily,
"my liking only goes to a point which, I am afraid, will not
satisfy either him or you."

"But why? — it will go further."

"No, Ma'am."

"Why not? — why do you say so?"

"Because I must, if you ask me."

"But what can be more excellent and estimable, Fleda? — who
could be more worth liking? I should have thought he would
just please you. He is one of the most lovely young men I have
ever seen."

"Dear aunt Miriam," said Fleda, looking up beseechingly, "why