"I cannot say it is from anything new, Mr. Olmney — except to
my apprehensions."

"You are all _well?_" he said, inquiringly, after they had
walked a few steps in silence.

"Well? — yes, Sir," said Fleda, hesitatingly; "but I do not
think that Hugh looks very well."

The trembling of her voice told him her thought. But he
remained silent.

"You have noticed it?" she said, hastily looking up.

"I think you have told me he always was delicate?"

"And you have noticed him looking so, lately, Mr. Olmney!"

"I have thought so — but you say he always was that. If you
will permit me to say so, I have thought the same of you, Miss
Fleda."

Fleda was silent: her heart ached again.

"We would gladly save each other from every threatening
trouble," said Mr. Olmney again, after a pause; — "but it
ought to content us that we do not know how. Hugh is in good
hands, my dear Miss Ringgan."