"I guess she's skeered o' the guns," said Cynthy, happy to get a chance to
edge in a word before such company;--"it's that ails her."

"Well, well,--she must get used to it," said Mr. Ringgan. "Here she is!"

Fleda had it in her mind to whisper to him a word of hope about Mr. Jolly;
but she recollected that it was at best an uncertain hope, and that if her
grandfather's thoughts were off the subject it was better to leave them
so. She only kissed him for good-by, and went out with the two gentlemen.

As they took up their guns Mr. Carleton caught the timid shunning glance
her eye gave at them.

"Do you dislike the company of these noisy friends of ours, Miss
Fleda?" said he.

Fleda hesitated, and finally said "she didn't much like to be very near
them when they were fired."

"Put that fear away then," said he, "for they shall keep a respectful
silence so long as they have the honour to be in your company. If the
woodcock come about us as tame as quails our guns shall not be provoked to
say anything till your departure gives them leave."

Fleda smiled her thanks and set forward, privately much confirmed in her
opinion that Mr. Carleton had handsome eyes.

At a little distance from the house Fleda left the meadow for an old
apple-orchard at the left, lying on a steep side hill. Up this hill-side