"That's too much for you, Elfie," said he, gently taking her hand from the tree,--"let my hand try."
She stood back and watched, tears running down her face, while he got a knife from his pocket and cut off the piece she had been trying for, nicely, and gave it to her. The first movement of Fleda's head was down, bent over the pretty spray of red berries; but by the time she stood at the horse's side she looked up at Mr. Carleton and thanked him with a face of more than thankfulness.
She was crying however, constantly till they had gone several miles on their way again, and Mr. Carleton doubted he had done wrong. It passed away, and she had been sitting quite peacefully for some time, when he told her they were near the place where they were to stop and join their friends. She looked up most gratefully in his face.
"I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Carleton, for what you did!"
"I was afraid I had made a mistake, Elfie."
"Oh, no, you didn't."
"Do you think you feel any easier after it, Elfie?"
"Oh yes!--indeed I do," said she looking up again,--"thank you, Mr. Carleton."
A gentle kind pressure of his arm answered her thanks.
"I ought to be a good sprite to you, Mr. Carleton," Fleda said after musing a little while,--"you are so very good to me!"