Susan Warner, 1819-1885 & Anna Warner 1824-1915, Wych Hazel(1876), Putnam's edition 1888

_Wych Hazel_ seen by _The Atlantic monthly_, Volume 38, Issue 227, September 1876, pp. 368-369

"It may well be questioned whether the authors of the _Wide, Wide World_ have added to their fame by this new novel. In thefirst place, the story it tells is one of no marked merit ororiginality, and the way in which it is told is in the highestdegree crabbed and unintelligible. There is such an air ofpertness about every one of the speakers, and the story istold almost entirely by means of conversations, that thereader gets the impression that all the characters arereferring to jests known only to themselves, as if he wereoverhearing private conversations. As may be imagined, thisscrappy way of writing soon becomes very tiresome from thedifficulty the reader has in detecting the hidden meaning ofthese curt sentences. The book tells the love of Rollo forWych Hazel, and indulges in gentle satire against parties, round dances, etc. The love-story is made obscure, Rollo'smanners are called Spanish, and he is in many ways a peculiaryoung man. We seem to be dealing much more with notes for anovel than with the completed product. "

WORKS BY

SUSAN AND ANNA WARNER. 

WYCH HAZEL. Large 12mo, cloth extra $1 75

"If more books of this order were produced, it would elevatethe tastes and increase the desire for obtaining a higherorder of literature. " --_The Critic_. 

"We can promise every lover of fine fiction a wholesome feastin the book. " --_Boston Traveller_. 

THE GOLD OF CHICKAREE. Large 12mo, cloth extra $1 75

"It would be impossible for these two sisters to writeanything the public would not care to read. " --_BostonTranscript_. 

"The plot is fresh, and the dialogue delightfully vivacious. "--_Detroit Free Press_. 

DIANA. 12mo, cloth $1 75

"For charming landscape pictures, and the varied influences ofnature, for analysis of character, and motives of action, wehave of late seen nothing like it. " --_The Christian Register_. 

" 'Diana' will be eagerly read by the author's large circle ofadmirers, who will rise from its perusal with the feeling thatit is in every prospect worthy of her reputation. " --_BostonTraveller_. 

WYCH HAZEL

BY

SUSAN AND ANNA WARNER

AUTHORS OF "WIDE, WIDE WORLD, " "DIANA, " "THE GOLD OFCHICKAREE, " ETC. 

NEW YORK & LONDON

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

The Knickerbocker Press

1888

COPYRIGHT BY

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

1876

CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER I. MR. FALKIRK

CHAPTER II. BEGINNING A FAIRY TALE

CHAPTER III. CORNER OF A STAGE-COACH

CHAPTER IV. FELLOW-TRAVELLERS

CHAPTER V. IN THE FOG

CHAPTER VI. THE RED SQUIRREL

CHAPTER VII. SMOKE

CHAPTER VIII. THE MILL FLOOR

CHAPTER IX. CATS

CHAPTER X. CHICKAREE

CHAPTER XI. VIXEN

CHAPTER XII. AT DR. MARYLAND'S

CHAPTER XIII. THE GREY COB

CHAPTER XIV. HOLDING COURT

CHAPTER XV. TO MOSCHELOO

CHAPTER XVI. FISHING

CHAPTER XVII. ENCHANTED GROUND

CHAPTER XVIII. COURT IN THE WOODS

CHAPTER XIX. SELF-CONTROL

CHAPTER XX. BOUQUETS

CHAPTER XXI. MOONSHINE

CHAPTER XXII. A REPORT

CHAPTER XXIII. KITTY FISHER

CHAPTER XXIV. THE LOSS OF ALL THINGS

CHAPTER XXV. IN THE GERMAN

CHAPTER XXVI. IN THE ROCKAWAY

CHAPTER XXVII. THE GERMAN AT OAK HILL

CHAPTER XXVIII. BREAKFAST FOR THREE

CHAPTER XXIX. JEANNIE DEANS

CHAPTER XXX. THE WILL

CHAPTER XXXI. WHOSE WILL?

CHAPTER XXXII. CAPTAIN LANCASTER'S TEAM

CHAPTER XXXIII. HITS AT CROQUET

CHAPTER XXXIV. FRIENDLY TONGUES

CHAPTER XXXV. FIGURES AND FAVOURS

CHAPTER XXXVI. THE RUNAWAY

CHAPTER XXXVII. IN A FOG

CHAPTER XXXVIII. DODGING

CHAPTER XXXIX. A COTTON MILL

CHAPTER XL. SOMETHING NEW

CHAPTER XLI. A LESSON

CHAPTER XLII. STUDY

CHAPTER I. 

MR. FALKIRK. 

"We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowingThat skies are clear and grass is growing. "

When one has in charge a treasure which one values greatly, and which, if once made known one is pretty sure to lose, Isuppose the impulse of most men would be towards a hiding-place. So, at any rate, felt one of the men in this history. Schools had done their secluding work for a time; tutors andgovernors had come and gone under an almost Carthusian vow ofsilence, except as to their lessons; and now with seventeenyears of inexperience on his hands, Mr. Falkirk's sensationswere those of the man out West, who wanted to move offwhenever another man came within twenty miles of him. 

Thus, in the forlorn hope of a retreat which yet he knew mustprove useless, Mr. Falkirk let the first March winds blow himout of town; and at this present time was snugly hid away in aremote village which nobody ever heard of, and where nobodyever came. 

So far so good: Mr. Falkirk rested and took breath. Nevertheless the spring came, even there; and following closein her train, the irrepressible conflict. Whoever succeeded inrunning away from his duties--or his difficulties? There was aflutter of young life within doors as without, and Mr. Falkirkknew it: there were a hundred rills of music, a thousandnameless flowers to which he could not close his senses. Therewas a soft, indefinable stir and sweetness, that told of thebreaking of Winter bonds and the coming of Summer glories; andhe could not stay the progress of things in the one case morethan in the other. 

Mr. Falkirk had always taken care of this girl--the few yearsbefore his guardianship were too dim to look back to much. From the day when she, a suddenly orphaned child, stoodfrightened and alone among strangers, and he came in and tookher on his knee, and bade her "be a woman, and be brave. " Thatwas his ideal of womanhood, --to that combination of strengthand weakness he had tried to bring Wych Hazel. 

Yet though she had grown up in Mr. Falkirk's company, shenever thoroughly understood him: nature and circumstances hadmade him a reserved man, --and her eyes were young. Of a piecewith his reserve was the peculiar fence of separation which hebuilt up between all his own concerns and those of his ward. He was poor--she had a more than ample fortune; yet nopersuading would make him live with her. Had he been rich, perhaps she might have lived with him; but as it was, unlesswhen lodgings were the rule, they lived in separate houses;only his was always close at hand. Even when his ward was alittle child, living at Chickaree with her nurses andhousekeeper, Mr. Falkirk never spent a night in the house. Heformally bought and paid for a tiny cottage on the premises, and there he lived: nothing done without his knowledge, nothing undone without his notice. Not a creature came or wentunperceived by Mr. Falkirk. And yet this supervision wasgenerally pleasant. As he wrought, nothing had the air ofespionage--merely of care; and so I think, Wych Hazel liked it, and felt all the more free for all sorts of undertakings, secured against consequences. Sometimes, indeed, his quickinsight was so astonishing to the young mischief-maker, thatshe was ready to cry out treachery!--and the suspected personin this case was always Gotham. Yet when she charged uponGotham some untimely frost which had nipped her budding plans, Gotham always replied--

'No, Miss 'Azel. I trust my 'onor is sufficient in hisrespect. '

She and Gotham had a singular sort of league, --defensive of Mr. Falkirk, offensive towards each other. She teased him, andGotham bore it mastiff-wise; shaking his head, and wincing, and when he could bear it no longer going off. Wych Hazel?--yes, she was that. 

And how did she win her name? Well, in the first place, "thenut-browne mayd" and she were near of kin. But whether herparents, as they looked into the baby's clear dark eyes, sawthere anything weird or elfish, --or whether the name 'grew, '--ofthat there remains no record. She had been a pretty quietwitch hitherto; but now--

"Once git a scent o' musk into a drawer, And it clings hold, like precerdents in law!"

--not Mr. Falkirk could get it out. 

CHAPTER II. 

BEGINNING A FAIRY TALE. 

'Mr. Falkirk, I _must_ go and seek my fortune!'

Wych Hazel made this little remark, sitting on a low seat bythe fire, her arms crossed over her lap. 

'Wherefore?' said her guardian. 

'Because I want to, sir. I have no other than a woman'sreason. '

'The most potent of reasons!' said Mr. Falkirk. 'The rather, because while professing to have no root, it hath yet a dozen. How long ago did Jack show his lantern, my dear?'

'Lantern!' said the girl, rather piqued, --adding, under herbreath, 'I'm going to follow--Jack or no Jack! Why, Mr. Falkirk, I never got interested a bit in a fairy tale, till Icame to--"And so they set out to seek their fortune. " It's mybelief that I belong in a fairy tale somewhere. '

'Like enough, ' said her guardian shortly. 

'So you see it all fits, ' said Wych Hazel, studying her futurefortunes in the fire. 

'What fits?'

'My going to seek what I am sure to find. '

'That will ensure your missing what is coming to find you. '

'People in fairy tales never wait to see what will come, sir. '

'But, my dear, there is a difficulty in this case. Yourfortune is made already. '

'Provokingly true, sir. But after all, Mr. Falkirk, I was notthinking of money. '

'A settlement, eh?' said Mr. Falkirk. 'My dear, when theprince is ready, the fairy will bring him. '

'Now, Mr. Falkirk, ' said the girl, with her cheeks aglow, 'youknow perfectly well I was not thinking of _that_. '

'Will you please to specify of what you were thinking, MissHazel?'

Miss Hazel leaned her head on her hand and reflected. 

'I don't believe I can, sir. It was a kind of indefinitefortune, --a whole windfall of queer adventures and people andthings. '

Mr. Falkirk at this turned round from his papers and looked atthe girl. It was a pretty vision that he saw, and he regardedit somewhat steadily; with a little break of the line of thelips that yet was not merriment. 

'My dear, ' he said gravely, 'such birds seldom fly alone in ahigh wind. '

'Well, sir, never mind. Could you be ready by Thursday, Mr. Falkirk?'

'For what, Miss Hazel?'

'Dear me!' said the girl with a soft breath of impatience. 'Toset out, sir. I think I shall go then, and I wanted to know ifI am to have the pleasure of your company. '

'Do _I_ look like a fairy tale?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

He certainly did not! A keen eye for practical realities, asober good sense that never lost its foothold of commonground, were further unaccompanied by the graces and charmswherewith fairy tales delight to deck their favourites. Besides which, Mr. Falkirk probably knew what his fortune wasalready, for the grey was abundantly mingled with the brown inhis eyebrows and hair. However, to do Miss Hazel's guardianjustice, if his face was not gracious, it was at least in somerespects fine. A man always to be respected, easily to beloved, sat there at the table, at his papers. 

As for the little 'nut-browne mayd' who studied destiny in thefire, she merely glanced up at him in answer to this appeal;and with a shake of the head as if fairy tales and he wereindeed hopelessly disconnected, returned to her musings. Thensuddenly burst forth--

'I am so puzzled about the colour of my new travelling dress!"Contrasts, " and "harmonies, " and all that stuff, belong tothe pink and white people. But pink and brown--Mr. Falkirk, doyou suppose I can find anything browner than myself, that willset me off, and do?--I can't travel in gold colour. '

'You want to have as much as possible the effect of a picturein a frame?'

'Not at all, sir. That is just what I want to avoid. The dressshould be a part of the picture. '

'I don't doubt it will be!' said Mr. Falkirk sighing. 'Beforeyou set out, my dear, had you not better invest your property?so that you could live upon the gathered interest if thecapital should fail. '

'I thought it was invested?' said the girl, looking up. 

'Only a part of it, ' replied Mr. Falkirk. 'Nothing but yourmoney. '

'Nothing but!' said Wych Hazel. 'Why what more have I, Mr. Falkirk?'

'A young life, ' said her guardian, --'a young and warm heart, --good looks, an excellent constitution, a head and hands thatmight do much. To which I might add, --an imagination. '

'My dear Mr. Falkirk, ' said the girl laughing, 'I shall wantthem all to pay my travelling expenses. All but the last--andthat is invested already, to judge by the interest. '

He smiled, a shaded smile, such as he often wore when shedanced away from his grave suggestions. He never pursued her. But when she added, 'After all, sir, investments are your affair, '--

'My dear, ' he said, 'a woman's jewels are in her own keeping--unless indeed God keep them. Yet let her remember that theyare not hers to have and to hold, but to have and to use; amere life interest--nor always that. '

And then for a while silence fell. 

'Will you think me _very_ extravagant if I get a new travellingdress, sir?' the girl began again. 

'I have not usually been the guardian of your wardrobe, MissHazel. '

'No, sir, of course; but I wanted your opinion. You gave oneabout my jewels. And by the way, Mr. Falkirk, won't you justtell me the list over again?'

Mr. Falkirk turned round and bent his brows upon Wych Hazelnow, but without speaking. 

'Well, sir?' she repeated, looking up at him, 'what are they, if you please?'

'Two brilliants of the first water, ' replied Mr. Falkirklooking down into her eyes. 'To which some people add, twofine bits of sardius. '

'And which some people say are set in bronze, '--said the younglady, but with a pretty little laugh and flush. 

'Where do you propose the search should begin?' said thegentleman, disregarding this display. 

'At Chickaree, sir. I should go down there at once, and sostart from home in proper style. '

'And your plan of operations?' pursued Mr. Falkirk. 

'Perfectly simple, sir. Of two roads I should always take themost difficult, and so on--ad infinitum. '

'Perfectly simple, indeed, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Yet it mightlead to a complication. I'm afraid it would prove a Westernline of travel, my dear--end in a squirrel track, and run up atree. '

'What a lookout we shall have!' said Wych Hazel. 'But aboutthe dress, Mr. Falkirk--you know my last one is quite new--and Ido so want another!'

'Then get it, ' he said with a smile. 'Though I am afraid, mydear, it is hardly in keeping. Quickear began the search inrags, and Cincerella in ashes, and the "Fair one with thegolden locks" had, I think, no other adornment. Puss in bootswas indeed new rigged--but Puss was only a deputy. What do yousay to sending me forth in boots, to seek a fortune for you?'

An irrepressible laugh rippled forth--sweet and sound, and, oh, so heartwhole!

'Let me see, ' she said; 'To-day is Monday. To-morrow I willget the dress and distract my dressmaker. And next Monday wewill set out, and take Chickaree for our first stage. My dearMr. Falkirk--most potent, grave, and reverend sir, --if you sallyforth as Puss in boots, of course I shall at once turn intothe Marquis of Carrabas, which would not suit your notions atall--confess!' she added, locking both hands round his arm, andflashing the brilliants before his eyes. 

'Next Monday we will take the first stage for Chickaree, ' saidMr. Falkirk in an unmoved manner. 'How many servants in yourtrain, Miss Hazel?'

'None, sir. Mrs. Bywank is there already, and Mrs. Saddler can"forward" me "with care. " I'll pick up a new maid by the way. '

'Will you pick up a page too? or does Dingee keep his place?'

'If he can be said to have one. O, Dingee, of course. '

'Wych Hazel, ' said Mr. Falkirk from under his brows, 'what isyour plan?--if you are capable of such a thing. '

'My plan is to unfold my capabilities, sir, --for your expressbenefit, Mr. Falkirk. We will beat the bush in everydirection, and run down any game that offers. '

Mr. Falkirk turned his chair half away, and looked into thefire. Then slowly, but with every effect of expression, herepeated, --

'A creature bounced from the bush, Which made them all to laugh, "My lord, " he cried, "A hare! a hare!"But it proved an Essex calf. '

'Yes, ' said Wych Hazel with excellent coolness, --'men do makesuch little mistakes, occasionally. But this time I shall bealong. Good night, sir. '

CHAPTER III. 

CORNER OF A STAGE COACH

'Miss Hazel!--Dear Miss Hazel!--Dear _me_, Miss Hazel!--here's themorning, ma'am, --and Gotham, and Mr. Falkirk!'

So far the young eyes unclosed as to see that they could seenothing--unless the flame of a wind-tossed candle, --then with adisapproving frown they closed again. 

'But Miss Hazel?' remonstrated Mrs. Saddler. 

'Well?' said Wych Hazel with closed eyes. 

'Mr. Falkirk's dressed, ma'am. '

'What is it to me if Mr. Falkirk chooses to get up overnight?'

'But the stage, ma'am!'

'The stage can wait. '

'The stage won't, Miss Hazel, ' said Mrs. Saddler, earnestly. 'And Gotham says it's only a question of time whether we cancatch it now. '

Something in these last words had an arousing power, for thegirl laughed out. 

'Mrs. Saddler, how _can_ one wake up, with the certainty ofseeing a tallow candle?'

'Dear me, ' said Mrs. Saddler hurrying to light two tallsperms, 'if _that's_ all, Miss Hazel--'

'That's not all. What's the matter with Mr. Falkirk thismorning?'

'Why nothing, ma'am. Only he said you wanted to take the firststage to Chickaree. '

'Which I didn't, and don't. '

'And Gotham says, ' pursued Mrs. Saddler, 'that if it is thefirst, ma'am, we'll save a day to get to Chickaree onThursday. '

Whereupon, Wych Hazel sprung at once into a state of physicaland mental action which nearly blew Mrs. Saddler away. 

'Look, ' she said, tossing the curls over her comb, --'there's mynew travelling dress on the chair. '

'Another new travelling dress!' said Mrs. Saddler withupraised hands. 

'And the hat ribbands match, ' said Wych Hazel, 'and thegloves. And the veil is a shade lighter. Everything matcheseverything, and everything matches me. You never saw my matchbefore, did you Mrs. Saddler?'

'Dear me! Miss Hazel, ' said the good woman again. 'You do talkso wonderful!'

It was splendid to see her look of dismay, and amusement, andadmiration, all in one, and to catch a glimpse of the otherface--fun and mischief and beauty, all in one too! To put onthe new dress, to fit on the new gloves, --Wych Hazel went downto Mr. Falkirk in admirable spirits. 

Mr. Falkirk looked gloomy. As indeed anything might, in thathall; with the front door standing open, and one lamp burningtill day should come; and the chill air streaming in. Mr. Falkirk paced up and down with the air of a man prepared forthe worst. He shook Wych Hazel grimly by the hand, and shelaughed out, 'How charming it is, sir? But where's breakfast?'

'Breakfast, Miss Hazel, ' said her guardian solemnly, 'isnever, so far as I can learn, taken by people setting out toseek their fortune. It is generally supposed that such peoplerarely have breakfast at all. '

'Very well, sir, --I am ready, '--and in another minute they wereon their way, passing through the street of the littlevillage, and then out on the open road, until after a half-hour's drive they entered another small settlement and drew upbefore its chief inn. Bustle enough here, --lamps in the halland on the steps; lamps in the parlours; lamps running up anddown the yards and road and dimly disclosing the outlines of athorough bred stage coach and four horses, with the variousfigures pertaining thereto. Steadily the dawn came creepingup; the morning air--raw and damp--floated off the horses'tails, and flickered the lights, and even handled Wych Hazel'snew veil. I think nothing but the new travelling dress kepther from shivering, as they went up the inn steps. Peopleseeking their fortunes may at least _want_ their breakfast. 

But Mr. Falkirk was perverse. As they entered the hall, awaiter threw open the door into the long breakfast room--delicious with its fire and lights and coffee--(neither did thevoices sound ill), but Mr. Falkirk stopped short. 

'Is that the only fire you've got? I want breakfast in aprivate room. '

Now Mr. Falkirk's tone was sometimes one that nobody wouldthink of answering in words, --of course, the waiter could donothing but wheel about and open another door next to thefirst. 

'Ah!' Mr. Falkirk said with immense satisfaction, as theystepped in. 

'Ah!'--repeated his ward rather mockingly. 'Mr. Falkirk, thisroom is cold. '

Mr. Falkirk took the poker and gave the fire such a punch thatit must have blazed uninterruptedly for half a day after. 

'Cold, my dear?' he said beamingly--'no one can be cold longbefore such a fire as that. And breakfast will be here in amoment. If it comes before I get back, don't wait for me. Howwell your dress looks!'

'And I?--Mr. Falkirk, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'Why that's a matter of taste, my dear, of course. Some peopleyou know are partial to black eyes--which yours are not. Othersagain--Ah, here is breakfast, --Now my dear, eat as much as youcan, --you know we may not have any breakfast to-morrow. On asearch after fortune, you never can tell. '

And helping her to an extraordinary quantity of everything onthe tray, Mr. Falkirk at once went off and left her to disposeof it all alone. And of course he went straight into the nextroom. Didn't she know he would?--and didn't she hear the duothat greeted him?--'What, Mr. Falkirk!'--'Sir, your mostobedient!'--and her guardian's double reply--'Back again, eh?'--and 'Your most obedient, Mr. Kingsland. ' Wych Hazel feltprovoked enough not to eat another mouthful. Then up came thestage, rumbling along to the front door; and as it came, inrushed Mr. Falkirk, poured out a cup of scalding coffee andswallowed it without a moment's hesitation. 

'Coach, sir!' said the waiter opening the door. 

'Coach, my dear?' repeated her guardian, taking her arm andwhisking her down the hall and into the stage, before thepassengers in the long room could have laid down their knives. 

'What is the use of being in such a hurry, Mr. Falkirk?' shesaid at last; much tried at being tossed gently into the stagelike a brown parcel--(which to be sure she was, but that madeno difference). 

'My dear, ' said Mr. Falkirk, solemnly, "there is a tide in theaffairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on tofortune. ' "

And with that he drew off his glove, leaned back, and passedhis hand over his brow with the air of a man who had in someshape achieved success. 

By this time the stream of passengers began to pour forth; andthe coach creaked and swung to and fro, as trunk after trunkand man after man found their way up to the roof. Then thedoor was flung open, and other passengers tumbled in, thelantern flashing dimly upon their faces and coats. Three andthree more, --and another, but his progress was stayed. 

'Not in here, sir, ' said Mr. Falkirk politely, 'I have paidfor three seats. '

'There ain't another seat, ' says the driver, --'and he ain't abig man, sir--guess maybe you'll let him have a corner--we'llmake it all right, sir. ' He had a corner, --and so did ourheroine! The new dress! Never mind; the sooner this went thesooner she would get another. And they rolled off, sweetly andsilently, upon the country road. The morning was lovely. Lightscarfs of fog floated about the mountain tops, light veils ofcloud just mystified the sky; the tree-tops glittered withdew, the birds flew in and out; and through an open corner ofher leathern curtain Wych Hazel peered out, gazing at the newworld wherein she was going to seek her fortune. 

'Spend the Summer at Chickaree, Mr. Falkirk?' said a voicefrom the further end of the coach. Wych Hazel drew in her headand her attention, and sat back to listen. 

'I did not say I was going there, ' said her guardian dryly. 

'Two and two make four, my good sir. There's not even a signof a place of entertainment between Stone Bridge and Crocus, and Stone Bridge you have confessed to. '

'You consider places of entertainment among the essentialsthen?'

'Why, in some cases, ' said the gentleman, with a suspiciousglance at Wych Hazel's brown veil. 

'How long is it since you were there, Mr. Falkirk?' inquiredMr. Kingsland's next neighbour. 

The speaker was a younger man than Mr. Kingsland, and whereasthat gentleman was a dandy, this one's dress was just oneremove from that, and therefore faultless. About his face, sofar off as the other end of the stage, there seemed nothingremarkable; it was grave, rather concise in its indications;but the voice prepared you for what a smile declared, --a naturejoyous and unembittered; a spirit pure and honest and keen. Even Wych Hazel's guardian softened at his look. 

'Pray, Mr. Falkirk?' said the other stranger, 'what issupposed to be the origin of the word "veil"?'

'I never heard, ' said Mr. Falkirk dryly. 'Lost in the earlyrecords of civilization. '

'My dear sir!--of Barbarism!'

'Civilization has never entirely got rid of barbarism, Ibelieve, ' said Mr. Falkirk between his teeth; then out, 'Bywhat road are you going, Rollo?'

'I should be happy to act as guide, sir. I leave the directroute. '

'Mr. Falkirk, ' said Wych Hazel, 'just put your head a littlethis way, and see the veil of mist thrown over the top of thathill. '

Mr. Falkirk looked hastily, and resumed: 'You have latelyreturned, I hear, from your long foreign stay?'

'It was time. '

'Mr. Falkirk, ' said his ward, 'do you consider _that_ a remnantof the dark ages?'

'It keeps its place too gracefully for that, ' said herguardian dropping his voice, as he looked across Wych Hazelout of the coach window. 

'Mr. Falkirk' (sotto voce), 'you are charming!--Betweenourselves, this is a hard place to keep gracefully. Pleasetake out your watch, sir. '

Which Mr. Falkirk did, and silently showed it. Forth to meethis came a little gold hunting watch from behind the brownveil. 

'You are a minute slow, sir--as usual. ' Then very softly, --'Mr. Falkirk, what with being pressed and repressed, I am dying byquarter inches! Just introduce me for your grandmother, willyou, and I will matronize the party. '

A request Mr. Falkirk complied with by entering forthwith intoa long business discussion with another occupant of the stagecoach, also known to him; in which stocks, commercialregulations, political enterprises, and the relative bearingsof the same, precluded all reference to anything elsewhatever. Nobody's grandmother could have had less (visible)attention than Miss Hazel, up to the time when the coachrolled up to the door of a wayside inn, and the party got outto a luncheon or early dinner, as some of them would havecalled it. Then indeed she had enough. Mr. Falkirk handed herout and handed her in; straight to the gay carpeted "Ladies'room;" shut the door carefully, and asked her what she wouldhave. No other lady was there to dispute possession. 

'Only a broiled chicken, sir--and a souffl�--and potatoes � lacr�me au gratin, ' said Miss Hazel, throwing off her bonnet andcurling herself down on the arm of the sofa. 'Mr. Falkirk, allmy previous acquaintance with cushions was superficial!--Andcould you just open the window, sir, and throw back theblinds? last November is in this room, apples and all. '

Mr. Falkirk obeyed directions, remarking that people whotravel in search of their fortune must expect to meet withNovember in unexpected places; and then went off into thegeneral eating-room, and by and by, from there or some otherinsalubrious region came a servant, with half of animperfectly broiled fowl and muddy dish of coffee, flanked bya watery pickled cucumbers. Mr. Falkirk himself presentlyreturned. 

'How does it go?' he said. 

'What, Mr. Falkirk?' the young lady was curled down in onecorner of the sofa, much like a kitten; a small specimen ofwhich animal purred complacently on her shoulder. 

'Could you eat, Miss Hazel?'

'Truly, sir, I could. Mr. Falkirk--what a lovely kitten! Do youremark her length of tail?'

Mr. Falkirk thought he had heard of "puss in boots" before, but never had the full realization thereof till now. 

'You have tasted nothing, ' he said. 'What shall I get you? Weshall be off in a few minutes, and you will not have anotherchance till we reach Hadyn's Dam. '

'Thank you, sir. A few minutes of undisturbed repose--with theremoval of those cucumbers--and the restoration of that chickento its other and I hope better half, is all that I require. '

'You will have rest at Hadyn's Dam, ' said Mr. Falkirk with aface more expressive than his words. --'The bridge there isbroken. '

'Queer place to rest, sir! Mr. Falkirk--there is Mr. Kingslandwondering why you keep me here. '

'He's eating his dinner. '

'Is he? I am afraid there will be crumbs in the piazza, ' saidWych Hazel, closing her eyes. 'He says he don't wonder you arekept. '

'What shall I get you, Wych? You cannot go from here to thenext stopping place without anything, ' Mr. Falkirk saidkindly. 

'If you could find me, sir, a basket that would just hold thiskitten'--

Mr. Falkirk wasted no more words, but went off, and came backwith a glass of milk and a plate of doubtful 'chunks' of cake. The room was empty. Bonnet and veil were gone, and even thekitten had disappeared. Meanwhile the stage coach rattled andswung up to the piazza steps, where were presently gatheredthe various travellers, one by one. 'Mr. Falkirk, ' said Mr. Kingsland, as that gentleman came out rather hastily to see ifhis charge might be there, too, 'you are not surely--agoing onalone?'

Back went Mr. Falkirk into the house again to look for hismissing ward, who had plainly been foraging. On the table wasa paper of crackers; two blue-eyed and blue-aproned youngstersstood watching every motion as she swallowed the glass ofmilk, and in her hand was a suspicious looking basket. WychHazel set down her empty tumbler. 

'My dear Mr. Falkirk, I was beginning to be concerned aboutyou!'

'What are you going to do with that basket, Miss Hazel?'

'Take it along, sir. '

'On your lap, I suppose!'

'Mr. Falkirk, the accuracy of your judgment is unparalleled. Is that our coach at the door?'

'My dear, you will find plenty of cats at Chickaree, ' said herguardian, looking annoyed. 

'Yes, sir--' said the young lady meekly, dropping her veil andfitting on her gloves. 

'All right, sir, ' said the landlord appearing at the door. 'Roughish road, Mr. Falkirk--and t'other gents not enoughpatience to divide among 'em and go half round--'

How much patience Mr. Falkirk carried to the general stockdoes not appear. But presently, lifting one corner of herbasket lid, Wych Hazel drew forth a radiant spray of roses, and laid them penitently upon the averted line of herguardian's coatsleeve. 

'Where did you get that?' he said. 'You had better put it inthe basket, my dear; it will stand a better chance to keepfresh. '

'Do you prefer pinks, sir?--or here are bachelor's buttons--'

'They seem rather common things to me, ' said Mr. Falkirkslowly, yet with a somewhat pacified brow. There was no kittenin the basket!

'I hadn't the heart to bring puss, as we are going toCatskill, ' whispered Miss Hazel. 

'We!' ejaculated Mr. Falkirk. 

'Nominative case, first person plural, sir. '

'And what's the definition of an adverb?'

'Something which qualifies your suffering--_n'est-ce pas_, Mr. Falkirk?'

'Certainly, by its primary action upon your doing, Miss Hazel. We are going to Chickaree. '

To which statement Miss Hazel for the present made no reply. She retreated to the depths of her own corner and the brownveil; fingering her roses now and then, and (apparently)making endless mental 'studies' of the wayside. The coachjogged lumberingly on: there was no relief to the tiresomenessof the way. It was a long morning. Dusty and weary, the coach-load was set down at last at another country inn; by the sideof a little river which had well filled its banks. Thetravellers were not, it must be noted, upon any of the greathighways of passage, but had taken a cut across country, oversome of the spurs of the Catskill; where a railroad was not. Mr. Falkirk brought his charge into the 'Ladies' parlour, ' andspoke in a tone of irritated business. 

'This is Hadyn's Dam. You can have rest and dinner now. '

CHAPTER IV. 

FELLOW TRAVELLERS. 

'Dinner--and the rest of it, ' translated Miss Hazel. 'Will itbe needful to make a grand toilette, sir? or shall I go to thetable as I am? If one may judge of the selectness of thecompany by their conversation'--

'You'll see no more of the company, ' said Mr. Falkirk; 'theyare going another way, and we have to wait here. The bridgewill be repaired to-morrow, I suppose. '

'Yes, sir. We don't dine upon the bridge, I presume?'

Mr. Falkirk went off, making sure that the door latched behindhim. In a quarter of an hour he came back, with an attendantbearing a tray. 

'At present fortune gives us nothing more remarkable thanfried ham, ' he said, --'and that not of the most eatable, Ifear. She is a jade. But we'll get away to-morrow. I hope so. '

'My dear sir, ' said Wych Hazel with a radiant face, 'we willget away to-night. I find that the bridge is not on our road, after all. So I said it was not worth while to get a roomready for me, --and the baggage might be just transferred. '

'To what?'

'To the other stage, sir. Or indeed I believe it is some sortof a baggage wagon--as the roads are heavy--not to speak of thepassengers. It has gone on up the mountain. '

'What has?' exclaimed Mr. Falkirk, whose face was a study. 

'The wagon, ' said Miss Hazel, seating herself by the table. 'More particularly, your one trunk and my six, sir. '

'Where has it gone?'

'Up the mountain, sir. They were afraid of making the stagetop heavy--the weight of intellect inside being small. '

'Do you mean, to Catskill?'

'Yes, sir. Poor little puss!--Does the vegetation hereaboutssupport nothing but pigs?' said Miss Hazel, with a despairingglance from the dish of ham to a yellow haired lassie in ablue gown, who just then brought in a pitcher of water. Mr. Falkirk waited till the damsel had withdrawn, and went to thewindow and came back again before he spoke. 

'You should have consulted me, Miss Hazel. You are bewildered. It is not a good time to go up the mountain now. '

'Bewildered? I!' was Miss Hazel's only answer. 

'Yes, you don't know what is good for you. I shall send forthose trunks, Wych. '

'Quite useless, sir. There is nothing else going up to theMountain House till we go ourselves. We will go for them--thereis nothing like doing your own business. '

'You will find that out one day, ' muttered her guardian. 

'Seeking my fortune, and wait for the mending of a bridge!'Hazel went on. 'And then I said I was going to Catskill, --andthen you're the best guardian in the world, Mr. Falkirk, soit's no use looking as if you were somebody else. '

'I shall be somebody else directly, ' said Mr. Falkirk in acynical manner. 'But eat your dinner, Miss Hazel; you will nothave much time. '

A meal for which he did not seem to care himself, for therewas no perceivable time when he took it. 

The stage coach into which the party presently stowedthemselves, held now but those four--Mr. Falkirk and his ward, and two gentlemen who had declared themselves on the way tothe mountain. The former established themselves somewhattaciturnly in the several corners of the back seat, and somade the journey; that is to say, as much as possible, for Mr. Falkirk being known to the other could not avoid now and thenbeing drawn into communication with them. One, indeed, Mr. Kingsland, made many and divers overtures to that effect. Hiselegance of person and costume was advantageously displayed inan opposite corner, from whence he distributed civilities asoccasion offered. His book and his magazine were placed at thebrown veil's disposal; he stopped the coach to buy cherriesfrom a wayside farm, which cherries were in like manner laidat Wych Hazel's feet; and his observations on the topics thatwere available, demonstrated all his stores of wit and wisdomequally at hand and ready for use. But brown veil would noneof them all. The daintiest of hands took two cherries andsigned away the rest; the sweetest of girl voices declined themagazine or gave it over to Mr. Falkirk. If the eyes burnedbrown lights (instead of blue) in their seclusion, if thevoice just didn't break with fun, perhaps only Mr. Falkirkfound it out, and he by virtue of previous knowledge. But infact, Miss Hazel gave the keenest attention to everybody andeverything. 

A contrast to Mr. Kingsland was their other fellow-traveller. Mr. Rollo occupying the place in front of Mr. Falkirk, madehimself as much as possible at ease on the middle seat, withhis back upon the persons who engaged Mr. Kingsland'sattention; but he did not thereby escape theirs. When asociety is so small, the members of it almost of necessitytake note of one another. The little brown-veiled figure couldnot help noticing what a master he was in the art of makinghimself comfortable; how skilfully shawls were disposed; howeasily hand and foot, back and head, took the best positionfor jolting up the hill. It amused her as something new; forMr. Falkirk belonged to that type of manhood which ratherdelights in being uncomfortable whenever circumstances permit;and other men she had seen few. Mr. Rollo had a book too, which he did not offer to lend; and he gave his lazy attentionto nothing else--unless when a bright glance of eye went overto Mr. Kingsland. He was as patient as any of the party; astruly he had good reason, being by several degrees the mostcomfortable. But Mr. Falkirk moved now and then unrestingly, and the back seat was hot and cramped, --and Wych found thejolts and heavings of the coach springs a thing to be borne. And that swinging and swaying middle seat, with its oneoccupant came so close upon her premises, that she dared notadventure the least thing, even to Mr. Falkirk. If themomentary relief of turning that grey travelling shawl into apincushion, occurred to her, nothing came of it; the thickfolds were untouched by one of her little fingers. She put herface as nearly out of the coach as she could, and perhapsenjoyed the scenery, if anyone did. Mr. Falkirk gave no signof enjoyment, mental or physical, and Mr. Kingsland wouldcertainly have been asleep, but for losing sight of the brownveil--and of possible something it might do. Yet now and thenthere were fine reaches for the eye, beautiful knollyindications of a change of surface, which gave picturesquelights and shades on their soft green. Or a lonely valley, with smooth fields and labourers at work, tufty clumps ofvegetation, and a line of soft willows by a watercourse, varied the picture. Then the ascent began in good earnest, andtrees shut it in, and there was everywhere the wild leafysmell of the woods. Night began to shut it in too, for the sunwas early hidden from the travellers; the gloom, or thefatigue of the way, gathered inside the coach as well, on allexcept the occupant of the middle seat. Some time before thishis ease-seeking had displayed itself in a new way; andletting himself out of the coach door he had kept up aprogress of his own by the side of the vehicle, which quitedistanced its slow and toilsome method of advance. For Rollowas not only getting on with a light step up the road, butmaking acquaintance with every foot of it; gathering flowers, pocketing stones, and finding time to fling others, whichrebounded with a racketty hop, skip and jump, down the side ofthe deep ravine on the edge of which the way was coasting. Then making up for his delay by a mode of locomotion whichseemed to speak him kindred to the squirrels, he swung himselfover difficult places by the help of hanging branches oftrees, and bounded from rock to rock, till he was again farahead of the horses, and of the road too, lost out of sight inanother direction. Now and then a few rich notes of a Germanair came down, or up, to the coach tantalizingly. CertainlyMr. Rollo was enjoying himself; and it was made moreindubitably certain to the poor plodders along inside thecoach, by the faint fumes of an excellent cigar which 'whiles'made themselves perceptible. 

Now to say the truth, it was all tantalizing to Wych Hazel. Inthe first place she was, as she had said, 'cramped to death, 'physically and mentally, --both parts of her composition justspoiling for a fight; and whereas she had hitherto kept herface well out of the window, now she drew it resolutelywithin, for with somebody to look at, it did not suit MissHazel's ideas to be looking. She could not tease Mr. Falkirk, who had gone to sleep; Mr. Kingsland was absolutely beyondreach, except of rather thorny wishes; and when at length thedilettante cigar perfumes began to assert themselves, WychHazel flung the rest of her patience straight out of thewindow, and looked after it. The coach was stopping just thenby another wayside inn, to exchange mail-bags and water thehorses, and favoured by the gathering dusk, a sharp businesstransaction at once went into effect between the young ladywithin and some one without; wherof nothing at firsttranspired. Mr. Kingsland knew only that on one side the tonesmight rival a mountain brook for their soft impetuosity. Therewas 'a show of hands' too, and then the coach jolted on andMr. Falkirk woke up; but not till the tired horses had gonedown one pitch and up another, did he hear a faint 'mew' whichraised its voice at his elbow. 

'What have you got there?' he said hastily. 

'A pair of whiskers, sir. '

'Where did you get that thing?' was the next demand, made withconsiderable disgust. 

'Really, sir--whiskers not being contraband--'

Mr. Falkirk was a patient man; at least Wych Hazel generallyfound him so; and at present he merely fell back into hiscorner, without making his thoughts any further apparent thanthe gesture made them. He offered no remark, not even when thedismayed condition of the whiskers aforesaid suggested sundryearnest and energetic efforts at escape, with demonstrationsthat called up Miss Hazel from the quietude of her corner tobe earnest and active in her turn. Frightened, not sure of thekind attentions of the little hands that kept such firm hold, --the kitten struggled and growled, and at last sent forth itsfeelings in a series of mews, sostenuto and alto to analarming degree. Mr. Kingsland smiled--then coughed, --and WychHazel's laugh broke forth in a low but very defined 'Ha! ha!'

'Mr. Falkirk, ' she said, 'please open your heart and give me abiscuit. '

'Mr. Falkirk, ' cried a cheerful voice, rather low, from theother side of the road, 'what have you got on board?'

If Mr. Falkirk's inward reply had been spoken aloud and in apast age, it might have cost poor Miss Hazel her life; as itwas, he only said, 'Can you cut a broom-stick, Rollo?' Theanswer perhaps went into action, for the young mandisappeared. 

Turning its wee head from side to side, as it munched thebiscuit, soothed by the soft touch of soft hands, the kittenso far forgot herself as to break now and then into a loudirregular purr; but her little mistress was absolutely silentand still, though the light fingers never ceased theircaressing, until puss had finished the biscuit and purredherself to sleep. By this time the coach jogged along inabsolute darkness, except for what help the stars gave. Theplashing of a stream over its rough bed far down below, gavetoken sometimes that the wheels of the coach were near anabyss; the flutter of leaves told that the forest was allaround them always. The irregular traveller had re-entered thecoach and sat among his shawls as still as the rest of theparty; who perhaps were all slumbering as well as the kitten. It appeared so; for when that small individual started toconsciousness and consequent alarm again, and was making anexcursion among the feet of the gentlemen on the coach floor, its aroused mistress was only aroused in time to hear aconsolatory whisper from one of her companions--'Poor littleKathleen Mavourneen, by what misfortune did you get in here?There--be still and go to sleep. ' And as no more was heard, oneither side, it seemed probable the advice had been followed. At any rate no more was seen of the kitten, not even when thestage coach swept round the level on which the house stands, and drew up at the door, where the light of lamps gaveopportunity for observation. Wych Hazel only saw that herneighbour flung a shawl demurely enough over one shoulder andarm, where the cat might have been, and letting himself out, proceeded to do the same office with full dexterity thoughwith one hand for the little cat's mistress. 

Ensconcing herself even closer than ever in mantle and veil, Wych Hazel passed on through the gay groups to the foot of thestairs, there paused. 

'Mr. Falkirk, ' she said softly, 'I want my tea up stairs, please, '--and passed on after the maid. 

'So, ' said one of the loiterers in the hall approaching Mr. Falkirk, 'so my dear sir, you've brought Miss Kennedy! Atlast!--Now for candidates. If the face match the hand and foot, the supply will be heavy. '

CHAPTER V. 

IN THE FOG. 

There was mist everywhere. On the winding bed of the river, lying piled like a gray eider-down coverlet; folding itselfover the forest trees; floating up to the Mountain House, andhanging about the rocks. But overhead the sky looked bright, and Sirius waved his torch which the vapour had filled withcoloured lights. As yet sunrise was not. 

In front of the house, where a grey rock started from the veryedge of the bank, spreading a platform above the precipice, sat Wych Hazel; her feet so nearly over the rock that theyseemed resting on the mist itself; her white scarf fallingback from her head like a wreath of lighted coloured vapour. Perhaps there were no other strangers to the Mountain Housewithin its walls; perhaps the morning was too chill; perhapsall of the 'candidates' were on the other side; for she satalone. Until the flaming torch of Sirius paled, until the dawnbegan to shimmer and gleam among the fleeces of mist, --untilthey parted here and there before the arrows of light, showingspires and houses and a bit of the river in the far distance. So fair, unfeatured, misty and sparkling at once, lay lifebefore the young gazer. Mr. Falkirk might have moralized thus, standing close behind her as he was, still and silent; but itis not likely he did; useless moralizing was never in Mr. Falkirk's way. 

'How do you like your fortune, Miss Hazel, as you find it atpresent?' he said. 

'Very undefined, sir. Good morning, Mr. Falkirk--what made youget up?'

'My knowledge of your character. '

'So attractive, sir?' She glanced up at him, then looked awayover the mist, with her arms crossed over her bosom and agrave look of thought settling down upon her young face; as ifwomanhood were dawning upon her, with its mysteriousopalescent light. 

'Evangeline saw her way all clear when she reached themountain-top, ' she said musingly; 'but mine looks mistyenough. Mr. Falkirk, will this fog clear away before sunset?'

'Or settle down into rain. '

But while he spoke, the sun mounting higher, shot through thevery heart of the mist; and the broken clouds began to rollaway in golden vapour, or were furled and drawn up with bandsof light. And now came voices from the piazza. 

'You knew it last night, Mr. Kingsland? and never told me!'said an oldish lady. 'And there is the sweet creature thisminute, on the rock!'

Wych Hazel sprang to her feet. 'Mr. Falkirk, ' she said, 'youare inquired for;'--and darting past him she vanished round thehouse. Mr. Falkirk, as in duty bound, followed, but when aneedful point of view was attained, his charge was nowherewithin sight, and he returned to the house to be in readinessto meet her when the bell should ring for breakfast. 

But a couple of hours later, when the bell rang, Miss Hazelwas not forthcoming. The guests gathered to the breakfast-room. Mr. Falkirk remained in the empty hall, pacing up anddown from door to door, then went to see if Wych Hazel were bychance in her room. Mrs. Saddler was in consternation, havingheard nothing of her. Mr. Falkirk returned to his walk in thehall, chaffing a little now with something that was notpatience. Presently Rollo came down the stairs. 

'Good morning. '

'Good morning. '

'Exercise before breakfast?--Or after?'

'Not after, ' said Mr. Falkirk; 'but you are late as it is. '

'Better late, if you can't be early. You have a better chance. I will wait with you, if you are waiting. '

'Don't wait for me, ' said Mr. Falkirk, shortly. 'I have noidea when I shall be ready. '

'I had no idea, a little while ago, when I should. By the way, I hope Miss Kennedy is well, this morning?'

'I hope so. '

'She is not down yet?'

'She has been down, and I have not heard of her going upagain. '

'In the breakfast-room, perhaps, ' said the young man. Andpassing on, he made his way thither, while Mr. Falkirk stoodat the hall door. No, Miss Kennedy was not in the breakfast-room; and instead of sitting down Mr. Rollo went out byanother way, picking up a roll from the table as he passed, and wrapping it in a napkin. He took a straight course to thewoods, over the grass, where no uninstructed eye could seethat the dew had been brushed away by a lighter foot than his. But if lighter, hardly so swift as the springy stride and leapwhich carried him over yards of the rough way at a bound, andcleared obstacles that would have hindered, at least slightly, most other people. The mountain was quickly won in this style, and Rollo gained a high ledge where the ground lay more level. He went deliberately here, and used a pair of eyes as quick asmight match the feet, though not to notice how the dewsparkled on the moss or how the colours changed in the valley. He was far above the Mountain House, on the wild hillside. Thesun had scattered the fog from the lower country, which lay awide dreamland to tempt the eye, and nearer by the lessercharms of rock and tree, moss and lichen, light and shadow, played with each other in wildering combinations. But Rollodid not look at valley of hill; his eyes were seeking a gleamof colour which they had seen that morning once before; andseeking it with the spy of an eagle. No grass here gave signof a footstep. Soft lichen and unbending ferns kept thesecret, if they had one; the evergreens were noisy with birds, but otherwise mute; the fog still settled down in the ravinesand hid whatever they held. 

Thither Mr. Rollo at last took his way, after a moment'sobservation: down the woody, craggy sides of a wild dell; thethick vapour into which he plunged sufficiently bewilderingeven to his practised eyes. Partridges whirred away frombefore him, squirrels chattered over his head, but hisparticular quarry Mr. Rollo could nowhere find. Through thatravine and up the next ledge, with the sun rising hotter andhotter, and breakfast long over at the Mountain House. 

He found her at last so suddenly that he stopped short. Shewas tired probably, for she had dropped herself down on themoss, her cheek on her hands, and had dropped her eyelids too, in something very like slumber; the clear brown cheek bearingit usual pink tinges but faintly. The figure curled down uponthe moss was rather tall, of a slight build; the features werenot just regular; the hair of invisible brown lay in verywayward silky curls; and the eyes, as soon could be seen, wereto match, both as to colour and waywardness. The mouth was avery woman's mouth, though the girlish arch lines had hardlyyet learned their own powers whether of feeling or persuasion. Very womanish, too, was the sweep of the arm outline, and thehand and foot were dainty in the extreme. Neither hand or footstirred for other feet approaching, the pretty gypsy havingprobably tired herself into something like unconsciousness;and the first sound of which she was thoroughly sensible washer own name. The speaker was standing near her when shelooked up, with his hat in his hand, and an air of gravedeference. He expressed a fear that she was fatigued. 

She had half-dreamily opened her eyes and looked up at first, but there was nothing 'fatigued' in the way the eyes went downagain, nor in the quick skill with which the scarf was caughtup and flung round her, fold after fold, until she was muffledand turbaned like an Egyptian. Then she rose demurely to herfeet. 

'I thank you, sir, for arousing me. Is Mr. Falkirk here?'

'No--I am alone. But you are at a distance from home. Can yougo back without some refreshment?' The words and the speakerwere quiet enough, but Wych Hazel's colour stirred uneasily. 

'Yes. Don't let me detain you, sir, ' she said, putting herselfin quick motion across the moss. He met her on the other sideof a big boulder and stayed her, though with the quietestmanner of interference. 

'I beg your pardon--but if you wish to go home--'

'Yes, ' she answered, with a half laugh, glancing up at thesun; 'I know. I am only going round this way. '

He stayed her still. 'I can guide you this way, ' he said;'but--it is not the way to the House. '

Another glance at the sun. 'Which is the way?'

'I will show it to you. Do you care most for speed or smoothgoing? You are tired?'

Wych Hazel knit her brows into the most abortive attempt at afrown. What right had he to suppose that she was tired!

'If you will just show me the way, sir--the shortest; I mean, point out the direction. '

He was standing and waiting her pleasure with contentedgravity. 'The direction is not to be followed in a straightline, ' said he. 'I can only show you by going before. Is thatyour meaning?'

'I should like to get home the shortest way, ' said shehesitating. 

He went on without more words, and maintaining the polishedgravity of his first address; but Wych Hazel had reason toremember her walk of that morning. It was a shorter way thanhe had come, that by which her conductor took her, and inparts easy enough; but in other parts requiring his skill aswell as hers to get her over them. He said not a word further;he served her in silence: the vexatious thing was, that he wasable to serve her so much. Many a time she had to accept hishand to get past a rude place; often both hands were needed toswing her over a watercourse or leap her down from a rock. Shewas agile and light of foot; she did what woman could; it wasonly by sheer necessity that she yielded the mortifying tacitconfession to man's superior strength, and gave so oftenopportunity to a pair of good eyes to see what she was likenear at hand. Wych Hazel's own eyes made few discoveries. Shecould _feel_ every now and then that her conductor's hand andfoot were as firm and reliable as the mountain itself. Thiscourse of travelling brought them, however, soon to the levelof the Mountain House and to plain going. There Mr. Rollo fellbehind, allowing the young lady to take her own pace incrossing the lawn and the hall, only attending her like hershadow to the foot of the stairs. With the first reaching oflevel ground, he had had a full look and gesture ofacknowledgment; what became of him afterwards Miss Hazelseemed not to know. _He_ knew that she ran up the first flightof stairs, and that once out of sight her steps droopedinstantly. 

'So!' said Mr. Kingsland, advancing. 'Really! Rollo my dearfellow, how are we to understand this?'

'Give us an introduction after lunch, will you?' said another. 

'But, Mr. Rollo, how extraordinary!' said one of the dowagers. 

'Madame!' said Mr. Rollo, waiting upon the last speaker, hatin hand. 

'Let him alone, my dear lady!' said Mr. Kingsland; 'he's gotto prepare for coffee and pistols with Mr. Falkirk. And coffeeI fancy he's ready for--eh, Dane? Go get your breakfast, andI'll break matters gently to the guardian. '

'Will you do that, my dear fellow?'

'Can you doubt me?'

'I wish you would, for I am hungry, ' said Dane, drawing hishand over his face. 'Mr. Falkirk is going off toward thecataract--just run after him and tell him that his ward is comehome;--has he had breakfast?'

'Run, I guess I--won't' said Mr. Kingsland. 'But to be thefirst bearer of _welcome_ news'--And Mr. Falkirk roaming amongtrees and rocks was presently accosted by two gentlemen. 

'Allow me, my dear sir, to congratulate you, ' said theforemost. 'Miss Kennedy is safe. Our friend Rollo has with hisusual sagacity gone straight to the mark, and without amoment's thought of his own breakfast or strength has foundthe young lady and followed her home. '

'She is at home, then?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'She is at home, sir; the Mountain House is made radiant byher presence. And now, permit me--Dr. Maryland, --son of yourfriend at Chickaree. Only your neighbour upon Christianprinciples here, sir, but bona fide neighbour at Chickaree, and most anxious to be acquainted with the fair ownerthereof. '

Too honest-hearted to feel the inuendo of Mr. Kingsland's lastwords, their undeniable truth flushed Dr. Maryland somewhat ashe shook hands with Mr. Falkirk. He was a well looking youngman, with a clear blue eye which said the world'ssophistications would find no Parley the porter to admit them;and Mr. Falkirk would certainly have begun to like his youngneighbour on the spot, if he had not been on a sudden summonedto the house. 

Miss Hazel, speeding up-stairs in the manner before related, reached her room safely; but there proceeding to answer orevade Mrs. Saddler's questions, also to indulge herself insundry musings, did not indeed forget to despatch a peremptoryorder for breakfast; but as that refreshment was somewhatdelayed, the young lady in an impatient fit of time-savingbegan to change her dress, and fainted away charmingly duringthe process. At which moment the maid and breakfast enteredthe room, and the former promptly set down her tray, and ranoff to summon the only doctor then at the Mountain House. 

Little did Dr. Maryland guess the meaning of those mysteriouswords--'a lady wants you!' Still less, what lady. And as by thetime he reached the room, Miss Hazel opened her eyes for hisexpress benefit, the doctor stopped short in the middle of theroom, his ideas more unsettled than ever. But Mr. Falkirk, whohad accompanied the doctor, though not expecting to find theirpaths all the way identical, pressed forward with a face ofgreat concern. 

'Miss Hazel!--is it you? What is the matter?'

'Do I look like somebody else, sir?'

Like nobody else! thought Dr. Maryland; while, learning thewhole of Mrs. Saddler's explanations from the first fivewords, he went on to apply such remedies as were strongest andnearest at hand. In a medical point of view it was not perhapsneedful that he should hold the coffee-cup himself all thetime, but if this were not really his 'first case, ' it bidfair to be so marked in his memory. Perhaps he forgot thecoffee-cup, till Mr. Falkirk gently relieved him of it with aword of dismission, and the doctor modestly withdrew; thensending Mrs. Saddler for some bottled ale, Mr. Falkirk wenton, 'Wych, where have you been?'

'Following the steps of my great predecessor, King Alfred, sir. '

'In what line?'

'Retiring from the enemy, sir, and being obliged to meet theDane'--said Miss Hazel, innocently closing her eyes. 

'Where?' said Mr. Falkirk, shortly. 

'I don't know, sir. In some of the wild places favoured bysuch outlaws. Don't you know, he has just come over the sea?'

There was a pause of some seconds. 

'Wych, ' said her guardian kindly, 'do you know it is not nicefor little girls to make themselves so conspicuous as yourmorning walk has made you to-day?'

Some feeling of her own brought the blood to her cheek andbrow, vividly. 

'I don't know what you call conspicuous, sir; only one personfound me. And if you think I lost myself in the fog onpurpose, Mr. Falkirk, you think me a much smaller girl than Iam!'

Mr. Falkirk smiled--a little, passing his hand very lightlyover the brow which did look certainly as if it had belongedto a little girl not very long ago; but he said no more, except to advise the young lady to eat a good breakfast. 

Not to be conspicuous, however, from this day was beyondlittle Miss Hazel's power, to whatever degree it might havebeen within her wish. The house was at this time not yetfilled; but of all its indwellers, old and young, male andfemale, higher and lower in the scale of society, every eyeand tongue was at her service; so far as being occupied withher made it so. Every hand was at her service more literally. Did not the very serving-men at table watch her eye? Was nothe the best fellow who could recommend the hottest omelet andbring the freshest cakes to her hand? The young heiress, theyoung mistress of fabulous acres, and 'such a beautiful oldplace;' the new beauty, who bid fair to bewitch all the worldwith hand and foot and gypsy eyes, --nay, the current all setone way. Even old dowagers looked to praise, and even theirdaughters to admire; while of the men, all were at her feet. Attentions, civil, kind, and recommendatory, showered on MissHazel from all sides. Would that little head stand it, withits wayward curls and some slight indication of waywardnesswithin? How would it keep its position over such a crowd ofservants self-made in her honour? Some of them were verydevoted servants indeed, and seemed willing to proclaim theirdevotion. Among these was Mr. Kingsland, who constitutedhimself her right-hand man in general; but Dr. Maryland wasnot far off, if less presuming. Miss Hazel could not walk orride or come into a room without some sort of homage from oneor all of these. 

'Dear little thing! pretty little thing!' exclaimed a lady, anold acquaintance of Mr. Falkirk's, one evening. 'Charminglittle creature! How will she bear it?'

Mr. Falkirk was standing near by. 

'She wants a better guardian, ' the lady went on whispering. 

'I wish she had a mother, ' he said. 

'Or a husband!'

Mr. Falkirk was silent; then he said, 'It is too soon forthat. '

'Yes--too soon, ' said the lady meditatively as she looked atWych Hazel's curls, --'but what will she do? Somebody willdeceive her into thinking he is the right man, while it is _too_soon. '

'Nobody shall deceive her, ' said Mr. Falkirk between histeeth. 

It must be mentioned that an exception, in some sort, to allthis adulation, was furnished by the friend of Miss Hazel'smorning walk. Mr. Rollo, if the truth must be told, seemed tolive more for his own pleasure than anybody else's. Why he hadtaken that morning's scramble unless on motives of unwontedbenevolence, remained known only to himself. Since then he hadnot exerted himself in her or anybody's service. Pleasant andgay he was when anybody saw him; but nobody's servant. By dayMr. Rollo roamed the woods, for he was said to be a greathunter--or he lay on the grass in the shade with a book--or hefound out for himself some delectable place or pleasureunknown previously to others, though as soon as known sure tobe approved and adopted; and at evening the rich scents of hiscigar floated in the air where the moonlight lay brightest orshadows played daintiest. But he did not seem to share theuniversal attraction towards the daintiest thing of all at theMountain. He saw her, certainly; he was sometimes seen lookingat her; but then he would leave the place where her presenceheld everybody, and the perfume of his cigar would come asaforesaid; or the distant notes of a song said that Mr. Rolloand the rocks were congenial society. If he met the littleQueen of the company indeed anywhere, he would lift his hatand stand by to let her pass with the most courtier-likedeference; he would lift his hat to her shadow; but he nevertestified any inclination to follow it. The more notable thiswas, because Rollo was a pet of the world himself; one ofthose whom every society welcomes, and who for that veryreason perhaps are a little nonchalant towards society. 

It was a proof now gayly and sweetly she took the popularvote, that she bore so easily his defalcation. Vanity was notone of her pet follies; and besides, that morning's work hadbrought on Miss Hazel an unwonted fit of grave propriety; shewas a little inclined to keep herself in the background. Amuseher the admiration did, however. It was funny to see Mr. Kingsland forsake billiards and come to quote Tennyson to her;Dr. Maryland's shy, distant homage was more comical yet; andthe tender little mouth began to find out its lines anddimples and power of concealment. But the young heart had agood share of timidity, and that stirred very often; makingthe colour flit to and fro 'like the rosy light upon the sky'--Mr. Kingsland originally observed; while Dr. Maryland lookedat the evening star and was silent. Compliments!--how theyrained down upon her; how gayly she shook them off. And as toMr. Rollo, if there was anything Miss Hazel disliked it was tosubmit to guidance; and she had been obliged to follow him outof the woods: and if he had presumed to admire her in the samestyle in which he had guided her, she felt quite sure therewould have been a sparring match. Besides--but 'besides' is afeminine postscript; it would be a breach of confidence totranslate it. 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE RED SQUIRREL

One brilliant night, Mr. Falkirk pacing up and down thepiazza, Wych Hazel came and joined him; clasping both hands onhis arm. 

'Mr. Falkirk, ' she said softly, 'when are we going toChickaree?'

'I have no information, Miss Hazel. '

'Then I can tell you, sir. We take the "owl" stage day afterto-morrow morning, --and we tell _nobody_ of our intention. ' AndWych Hazel's finger made an impressive little dent in Mr. Falkirk's arm. 

'Why that precaution?' he inquired. 

'Pity to break up the party, sir, --they seem to be enjoyingthemselves, '--And a soft laugh of mischief and fun rang outinto the moonlight. 

'Is this arrangement expected to be carried into effect?'

'Certainly, sir. If my guardian approves, ' said Miss Hazel, submissively. 

'What's become of her other guardian?' said an old lady, possessing herself of Mr. Falkirk's left arm. 

'My other guardian!' said the young lady, expressively. 

'She has no other, ' said Mr. Falkirk, very distinctly. 

'Have you broken the will?'

'No madam, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'As it often happens in thisworld, something has reached your ears in a mistaken form. '

'What something was it?' said Wych Hazel. 

'A false report, my dear, ' Mr. Falkirk says. Which did notquite satisfy the questioner at the time, but was soonforgotten in the rush of other things. 

The next day was devoted to a musical pic-nic at the Falls. Itwas musical, in as much as a band had been fetched up to playon the rocks, while the company filled the house and balcony, and an occasional song or duet, which ladies asked for 'justto see how they would sound there, ' kept up the delusion. Bywhat rule it was a pic-nic it might be difficult to discover, except that it had been so styled. Eatables and drinkableswere, to be sure, a prominent portion of the entertainment, and they were discussed with more informality and a good dealless convenience than if in their regular place. But, however, the rocks and the wildness lent them a charm, perhaps ofnovelty, and the whole affair seemed to be voted a success. 

Success fell so largely to Miss Hazel's share, that she bytimes was a little weary of it, or of its consequences; andthis day finding herself in a most inevitable crowd, do whatshe could, she fairly ran away for a breath of air with nomusk in it. Making one or two the honoured confidants of herintention, that she might secure their staying where they wereand keeping others, and promising to return soon, she slippedaway down the stairs by the Fall. All the party had been therethat morning, as in duty bound, and had gone where it was therule to go. Now Wych Hazel sprang along by herself, to takethe wildness and the beauty in silence and at her ownpleasure. At the upper basin of the Fall she turned off, andcoasted the narrow path under the rock, around the basin. Atthe other side, where the company had been contented to turnabout, Wych Hazel passed on; till she found herself a seat ona projecting rock, from which a wild, wooded ravine of thehills stretched out before her eyes. The sides were so bold, the sweep of them so extended, the woods so luxuriantly rich, the scene so desolate in its loneliness and wildness, that shesat down to dream in a trance of enjoyment. Not a sound nowbut the plash of the water, the scream of a wild bird, and therustle of leaves. Not a human creature in sight, or the traceof one. Wych might imagine the times when red Indians rovedamong those hillsides--the place looked like them; but rarewere the white hunters that broke their solitudes. It wasdelicious. The very air that fanned her face had come straightfrom a wilderness, a wilderness where it blew only over sweetthings. It refreshed her, after those people up on thebalcony. She had promised to be back soon: but now a rosyflower, or spike of flowers, of tempting elegance, caught hereye. It was down below her, a little way, not far; a veryrough and steep way, but no matter, she must have the flower, and deftly and daintily she clambered down: the flower lookedlovelier the nearer she got to it, and very rare and exquisiteshe found it to be, as soon as she had it in her hands. It wasnot till she had examined and rejoiced over it, thataddressing herself to go back, Wych Hazel found her retreatcut off. Not by any sudden avalanche or obstacle, animate orinanimate; as peacefully as before the wind waved the ferns onthe great stepping stones of cliff and boulder by which shehad come; but--the agility by which with help of vines andtwigs she had let herself down these declivities, was not thestrength that would mount them again. It was impossible. WychHazel saw that it was impossible, and certainly she wouldnever have yielded the conviction but to dire necessity. Shestood considering one particular jump down which she hadmade, --nothing but desperation could have taken her back again. 

Desperate, however, Wych Hazel did not feel. There was nothingto do at present but to wait till her friends should find her;for to go further down would but add to her trouble and lessenher chance of being soon set free, and indeed, from herpresent position even to go down (voluntarily) was no trifle. So Wych Hazel sat down to wait, amusing herself with thoughtsof the sensation on the cliff, and wondering what sort ofscaling ladders could be improvised in a hurry. They would besure to come after her presently. Some one would find her. Andit was a lovely place to wait. 

How it happened must remain like other mysteries, unexplainedtill the mystery is over, that the person who did find heragain happened to be Mr. Rollo. Yet she had hardly seen himall day before that. Wych Hazel had half forgotten hersituation in enjoying its beauties and musing in accordancewith them; and then suddenly looking up to the great piece ofrock nearest her, she saw him standing there, looking down ather with the calm face and handsome gray eyes which she hadnoticed before. The girl had been singing half to herself awild little Scottish ballad, chiming it in with water and windand bird music, taking first one part and then another;looping together a long chain of pine needles the while, --thenthrowing back her sleeve, and laying the frail work across herarm, above the tiny hair chain, the broad band of gems and thestring of acorns, which banded it; in short, disportingherself generally. But not the "lullaby, baby, and all, " ofthe old rhyme, ever had a more sudden and complete downfall. The first line of

"O wha wad buy a silken gounWi' a puir broken heart?"

was left as a mere abstract proposition; and Wych Hazel wouldassuredly have 'slipped from her moorings, ' but for thecertain fear of tearing her dress, or spraining her ankle, ordoing some other bad thing which should call for immediateassistance. So she sat still and gazed at the prospect. 

Her discoverer presently dropped down by her side and stoodthere uncovered, as usual, but this time he did not withdrawhis eyes from her face. And when he spoke it was in a newtone, very pleasant, though laying aside a certain distanceand form with which he had hitherto addressed her. 

'Do you know, ' he said, 'I begin to think I have known you ina former state of existence?'

'What sort of a person were you in a former state, Mr. Rollo?'

'I see the knowledge was not mutual. I am sorry. --This is apleasant place!'

'This identical grey rock?'

'Don't you think so?'--in a tone which assumed the proposition. 

'Very, ' said Wych Hazel with a demure face;--'I do not knowwhich abound most--the pleasures of Hope, Memory, orImagination. But I thought perhaps you meant the mountain. '

'The pleasures of the Present, then, you do not perceive?'said Mr. Rollo, peering about very busily among the trees androcks in his vicinity. 

'Poor Hope and Imagination!' said Miss Hazel, --'must they bebanished to the "former state?" Memory does hold a sort ofmiddle ground. '

'There isn't much of that sort of ground here, ' said Mr. Rollo; 'we are on a pretty steep pitch of the hill. Don't youlike this wilderness? You want a gun though--or a pencil--togive you the sense that you have something to do in thewilderness. '

'Yes!' said Miss Hazel--'so Englishmen say: "What a nice day itis!--let's go out and kill something. " '

There was a good deal of amusement and keenness in his sidewayglance, as he demurely asked her 'if she didn't know how toshoot?' But Wych Hazel, with a slight gesture of her silkycurls, merely remarked that she had pencils in her pocket--ifhe wanted one. 

'Thank you--have you paper too?'

'Plenty. '

'That I may not seem intolerably rude, ' said he, extending hishand for the paper, --'will you make one sketch while I makeanother? We will limit the time, as they did at the LondonSketch Club. '

'O, I shall not think it even tolerably rude. But all my paperis in this book. '

'To secure the conditions, I must tear a leaf out. --How willthat do?'

'Very well, ' she said with a wee flitting of colour, --'if youwill secure my conditions too. '

'What are they?' As he spoke he tore the leaf out andproceeded to accommodate himself with a pamphlet for a drawingboard. 

'You had no right to the leaf till you heard them!' she criedjumping up. 'I shall take care how I bargain with you again, Mr. Rollo. '

'Not safe?' said he smiling. 'But you are, this time, for Iaccepted the conditions, you know. And besides--you have thepencils yet. ' There was a certain gay simplicity about hismanner that was disarming. 

'Did you?' said Hazel looking down at him. 'Then you areinjudicious to accept them unheard. One of them is very hard. The first is easy--you are to restore the leaf when the sketchis done. '

'It is the decree of the strongest! And the other?'

'You are to confess my sketch to be the best. Now what is thesubject to be?'

'Stop a bit!' said he, turning over the book which Wych Hazelhad given him wrong side first--'I should like to see what I amto swear to, before we begin. ' And the bits of her drawingwhich were found there received a short but keenconsideration. 'The subject?--is this grey rock where we are--with what is on and around it. '

'You are lawless. And your subject is--unmanageable!'

'Do you think so?'

'You want what is "around" this grey rock, ' she said with alight twirl on the tips of her toes. 'If your views on mostsubjects are as comprehensive!'--

'They can be met, nevertheless, ' said he, laughing, 'if youtake one part of the subject and I the other--and if you'llgive me a pencil! We must be done in a quarter of an hour. '

'There it is, ' said Wych Hazel, --'then you can take half of therock'--and she walked away to a position as far behind Mr. Rollo as sweetbriars and sumach would permit. That gentlemanturned about and faced her gravely; also withdrew a step, looked at his match, and throwing on his hat which had laintill now on the moss, went to work. It was work in earnest, for minutes were limited. 

'Mr. Rollo?' said Wych Hazel, 'I cannot draw a thing if yousit there watching me. Just take your first position, please. '

'I should lose my point of view--you would not ask me to dothat? Besides, you are safe--I am wholly occupied with myself. '

'No doubt! But if you presume to put _me_ in your sketch I'llturn you into a red squirrel'--with which fierce threat MissHazel drooped her head till her 'point of view' must have beenat least merged in the brim of her flat hat, and went at herdrawing. That she had merged herself as well in the interestof the game, was soon plain, --shyness and everything else wentto the winds: only when (according to habit) some scrap of asong broke from her lips, then did she rebuke herself with animpatient gesture or exclamation, while the hat drooped lowerthan ever. It was pretty to see and to hear her, --those veryoutbreaks were so free and girlish and wayward, and at thesame time so sweet. Several minutes of the prescribed timeslipped away. 

'How soon do you go to Chickaree?' said the gentleman, in apre-engaged tone, very busy with his pencil. 

'How soon?' repeated the lady, surveying her own sketch--'why--not too soon for anybody that wants me away, I suppose. AskMr. Falkirk. '

'Is it long since you have seen the place?'

'I can hardly be said to have "seen" it at all. I think mylandscape eyes were not open at that remote period of whichyou speak. '

'I was a red squirrel then, in the "former state" to which Ireferred a while ago. So you see your late threat has noterrors for me. Is it in process of execution?'

'O were you?' said Miss Hazel, absorbed in her drawing. 'Yes--but the expression is very difficult!--Did you think you knewme as a field mouse?'

He laughed a little. 

'Then, I suppose you have not the pleasure of knowing yourneighbours, the Marylands?--except the specimen lately onhand?'

'No, I have heard an account of them, ' said Miss Kennedy. 'Forshame, Mr. Rollo, Dr. Maryland isn't a "specimen. " He's good. I like him. '

The gentleman made no remark upon this, but confined hisattention to his work for a few minutes; then looked at hiswatch. 

'Is that sketch ready to show?--Time's up. '

'And the squirrel is down. But not much else. '

Not much!--the squirrel sat contemplatively gazing into Mr. Rollo's hat, which lay on the rock before him, quiteundisturbed by a remarkable looking witch who rose up at theother end. The gentleman surveyed them attentively. 

'Do you consider these true portraits?'

'I do not think the hat would be a tight fit, ' said she, smothering a laugh. 

'Well!' said he comically, 'it is said that no man knowshimself--how it may be with women I can't say!' And he madeover the sketch in his hand and went to his former work; whichhad been cutting a stick. 

There was more in this second sketch. The handling waseffective as it had been swift. Considering that fifteenminutes and a lead pencil were all, there had been a greatdeal done, in a style that proved use and cultivation as wellas talent. The rocks, upper and lower, were truly given; theartist had chosen a different state of light from the actualhour of the day, and had thus thrown a great mass into finerelief. Round it the ferns and mosses and creepers with alight hand were beautifully indicated. But in the nook whereWych Hazel had stationed herself, there was no pretty littlefigure with her book on her lap; in its place, sharply andaccurately given, was a scraggy, irregular shaped bush, with afew large leaves and knobby excrescences which looked likeacorns, but an oak it was not, still less a tree. The topmostbranch was crowned with Miss Kennedy's nodding hat, and uponanother branch lay her open drawing book. Miss Kennedy shookher head. 

'I cannot deny the relationship!--Your style of handling isperhaps a trifle dry. That is not what you call an "idealwoman, " is it, Mr. Rollo?'

'I might fairly retort upon that. What do you say to ourmoving from this ground, before the band up there gets intoMinor?'

Retaking of a sudden her demureness, slipping away to herfirst position on the rock, with hands busy about the pinkflowers, Wych Hazel answered, as once before--

'Do not let me detain you--do not wait for me, Mr. Rollo. '

'Shall I consider myself dismissed? and send some morefortunate friend to help you out of your difficulty?'

'I am not in any difficulty, thank you. '

'Only you don't know your way, ' he said, with perhaps a littleamusement, though it hardly appeared. 'Is it true that youwill not give me the honour of guiding you?'

'In the first place, ' said Miss Hazel, wreathing her pinkflowers with quick fingers, 'I know the way by which I came, perfectly. In the second place, I never submit voluntarily toanybody's guidance. '

'Will you excuse me for correcting myself. I meant, in "notknowing your way, " merely the way in which you are to _go_. '

'Do you know it?'

'If you suffer my guidance--undoubtedly. '

'Ah!--if. In that case so do I. But I "suffered" so much on thelast occasion--and Dr. Maryland has left the Mountain. '

'I would not for the world be importunate! Perhaps you willdirect me if I shall inform any one of your hiding place--or doyou desire to have it remain such?'

'Thank you, ' said Miss Hazel, framing the landscape in herpink wreath and gazing at it intently, 'I suppose there is notmuch danger. But if you see Mr. Falkirk you may reveal to himmy distressed condition. He needs stimulus occasionally. '

Rollo lifted his hat with his usual Spanish courtesy; thendisappeared, but not indeed by the way he had come. He threwhimself upon an outstanding oak branch, from which, lightlyand lithely, as if he had been the red squirrel himself, hedropped to some place out of sight. One or two bounds, rustling amid leaves and branches, and he had gone fromhearing as well as from view. 

Wych Hazel had time to meditate. Doubtless she once morescanned the rocks by which inexplicably she had let herselfdown to her present position; but in vain, no strength oragility of hers, unaided, could avail to get up them again. Indeed it was not easy to see how aid could mend the matter. Miss Hazel left considering the question. It was a wild placeshe was in, and wild things suited it; the very birds, unaccustomed to disturbance, hopped near her and eyed her outof their bright eyes. If they could have given somewhat oftheir practical sageness to the human creature they werewatching! Wych Hazel had very little of it, and just then, intruth, would have chosen their wings instead. She did not, even now, in their innocent, busy manners, read how much elsethey had that she lacked; though she looked at them and at allthe other wild things. The tree branches that stretched asthey listed, no axe coming ever upon their freedom; the mossand lichens that flourished in luxuriant beds and pastures, not breathed on by even a naturalist's breath; the rocks thatthey had clothed for ages, no one disturbing. The very cloudshadows that now and then swept over the ravine and thehillside, meeting nothing less free than themselves, scarceanything less noiseless, seemed to assert the whole scene asNature's own. Since the days of the red men nothing but cloudshadows had travelled there; the nineteenth century had madeno entrance, no wood-cutter had lifted his axe in the forest;the mountain streams, that you might hear soft rushing in thedistance, did not work but their own in their citadel of thehills. Wych Hazel had time to consider it all, and to watchmore than one shadow walk slowly from end to end of the longstretch of the mountain valley, before she heard anything elsethan the wild noise of leaf and water and bird. At last therecame something more definite, in the sounds of leaves andbranches over her head; and then with certainly a littledifficulty, Mr. Falkirk let himself down to her standingplace. To say that Mr. Falkirk looked in a gratified state ofmind would be to strain the truth; though his thick eyebrowswere unruffled. 

'How did you get here, Wych?' was his undoubtedly seriousinquiry. 

'Oh!' she said, jumping up, and checking her own wild murmursof song, --'My dear Mr. Falkirk, how did you? What is the lastnews from civilization?' She looked wild wood enough, with thepink wreath round her hat and her curls twisted round thewind's fingers. 

'But what did you come here for?'

'It's a pleasant place, sir--Mr. Rollo says. I was going topropose that you and I should have a joint summer house here, with strawberries and cream. Mr. Falkirk, haven't you a bun inyour pocket?'

At this moment, and in the most matter-of-fact manner, presented himself her red squirrel friend, arriving fromnobody knew where; and bringing not only himself but a littlebasket in which appeared--precisely--biscuits and strawberries. Silently all this presented itself. Wych Hazel's cheeksrivalled the strawberries for about a minute, but whether fromstirred vanity or vexation it was hard to tell. 

'Mr. Falkirk!' she cried, 'are all the rest of the staffcoming? Here is the Commissary--is the Quarter-master behind, in the bushes?'

'I have no doubt we shall find him, ' said Mr. Falkirk, dryly. 'How did you get into this bird's nest, child?'

'She was drawn here, sir, --by a red squirrel. '

'I was not drawn!--Mr. Falkirk, what are they about up there, besides lamenting my absence. '

Mr. Falkirk seemed uneasy. He only looked at the littlespeaker, busy with her strawberries, and spoke not, but Rolloanswered instead. 

'They are looking over the rocks and endeavouring to computethe depth to the bottom, with a reference to your probablesafety. ' There was a shimmer of light in the speaker's eye. 

'If they are taking mathematical views of the subject, theyare in a dangerous way! Mr. Falkirk, it is imperativelynecessary that I should at once rejoin the rest of society, --will you let yourself be torn from this rock, like a seaanemone?'

Mr. Falkirk had been for a few minutes taking a minute andbusiness-like survey of the place. 

'I see no way of getting you out, Wych, ' he said despondingly, 'without a rope. I must go back for one, I believe, and youand society must wait. '

'How will _you_ get out, sir?'

'I don't know. If I cannot, I'll send Rollo. '

'Pray send him, sir, --by all means. '

'I can get you out without a rope, ' said that gentleman, verydispassionately. 

'Pray do, then, ' said the other. 

'There is a step or two here of roughness, but it ispracticable; and with your help we can reach smooth going in avery few minutes. A little below there is a path. Let me seeyou safe down first, Mr. Falkirk. Can you manage that oakbranch?--stop when you get to the bottom--Stand there, now. '

With the aid of his younger friend's hand and eyes Mr. Falkirkmade an abrupt descent to the place indicated--a ledge not veryfar but very sheer below them. From a position which lookedlike a squirrel's, mid way on the rock with one foot on theoak, Rollo then stretched out his hand to Wych Hazel. 

'Am I to stop when I get to the bottom?--most people like to doit before, ' she said. 

'You must. Come a little lower down, if you please. Take Mr. Falkirk's hand as soon as you reach footing. '

It was no place for ceremony, neither could she help it. Asshe spoke, he took the young lady in both hands as if she hadbeen a parcel, and swung her lightly and firmly, though itmust have been with the exercise of great strength, down to arocky cleft which her feet could reach and from which Mr. Falkirk's hand could reach her. Only then did Mr. Rollo's handrelease her; and then he bounded down himself like a cat. Oncemore, very nearly the same operation had to be gone through;then a few plunging and scrambling steps placed them in aclear path, and the sound of the waters of the fall told themwhich way to take. With that, Rollo lifted his hat againgravely and fell back behind the others. Wrapping herself inher mood as if it had been a veil, Wych Hazel likewise benther head--it might have been to both gentlemen; but then shesped forward at a rate which she knew one could not and theother would not follow, and disappeared among the leaves likea frightened partridge. 

What was she like when they reached the party on the height?With no token of her adventures but the pink wreath round herhat and the pink flush under it, Miss Hazel sat there _� lareine_; Mr. Kingsland at her feet, a circle of standingadmirers on all sides; her own immediate attentionconcentrated on a thorn in one of her wee fingers. Lessspeedily Mr. Falkirk had followed her and now stood at theback of the group, silent and undemonstrative. Rollo had goneanother way and was not any longer of the party. 

CHAPTER VII. 

SMOKE. 

To Chickaree by the stage was a two-days' journey. The firstday presented nothing remarkable. Rollo was their only fellowtraveller whom they knew; and he did nothing to lighten thetedium of the way, beyond the ordinary courtesies. And afterthe first few hours the scenery had little to attract. Thecountry became an ordinary farming district, with nodistinctive features. Not that there be not sweet things tointerest in such a landscape, for a mind free enough and eyesunspoiled. There are tints of colouring in a flat pasturefield, to feed the eye that can find them; there are forms andshadows in a rolling arable country, sweet and changing andsatisfying. There are effects in tufts of spared woodland, andcolours in wild vegetation, and in the upturned brown andumber of fields of ploughed earth, and in the grey lichenedrocks and the clear tints of their broken edges. There are theassociations and indications of human life, too; tokens ofthrift and of poverty, of weary toil and of well-to-doactivity. Where the ploughs go, and the ploughmen; where thecattle are driven afield; where the farmyards tell how theyare housed and kept; where the women sit with their milkingpails or make journeys to the spring; where flowers trim thehouse-fronts, or where the little yard-gate says thateverything, like itself, hangs by one hinge. A good deal oflife stories may be read by the way in a stage coach; but notuntil life has unfolded to us, perhaps, its characters; and soWych Hazel did not read much and thought the ride tedious andlong. When she turned to her companions, Mr. Falkirk wasthoughtful and silent, Mr. Rollo silent and seemingly self-absorbed, and if she looked at the other occupants of thecoach--Wych Hazel immediately looked out again. 

The second day began under new auspices. None of their formerfellow travellers remained with them; save only Rollo and theservants; and the empty places were taken by a couple ofcountry women, one young and rustic, the other elderly andditto. That was all that Wych Hazel saw of them. The fact thatone of the women presently fell to eating gingerbread and theother molasses candy, effectually turned all Miss Kennedy'sattention out of doors. 

The cleared country was left behind; and the coach entered aregion of undisturbed forest, through which it had many milesto travel before reaching civilization again. The view wasshut in. The trees waved overhead and stretched along the roadendlessly, too thick for the eye to penetrate far. The coachrumbled on monotonously. The smell of pines and other greenthings came sweet and odorous, but the day was hot, andeverything was dry; the dust rose and the sunbeams poureddown. Wych Hazel languished for a change. Only a red squirrelnow and then reminded her what a lively life she led a day ortwo ago. And Mr. Falkirk seemed too indifferent to mind theweather, and Rollo seemed to like it! She was very weary. Taking off her hat and leaning one hand on her guardian'sshoulder, she rested her head there, too--looking out with asort of fascinated intentness into the hazy atmosphere, whichgrew every moment thicker and bluer and more intensely hazy. It almost seemed to take shape, to her eye, and to curl andwave like some animated thing among the still pines. Thecountrywomen were dozing now; Mr. Rollo and Mr. Falkirk mused, or possibly dozed too; it made her restless only to look atthem. Softly moving off to her own corner, Wych Hazel leanedout of the window. Dark and still and blue--veiled as ever, thepines rose up in endless succession by the roadside; a yellowcarpet of dead leaves at their feet, the woodpeckers busy, thesquirrels at play over their work. How free they all were!--with what a sweet freedom. No danger that the brown rabbitdarting away from his form, would ever transgress prettylimits!--no fear that vanity or folly or ill-humour would evertouch the grace of those grey squirrels. As for the red ones!--Miss Hazel brought her attention to the inside of the coachfor a minute, but the sight gave only colour and no check toher musings. How strange of that particular red squirrel tofollow her steps as he had done the other day--to follow hersteps now, as she more than half suspected. What did he mean?And what did she mean by her own deportment? Nothing, shedeclared to herself:--but that red squirrels will biteoccasionally. There swept over her, sighing from among thepine trees, the breath of a vague sorrow. In all theemergencies that might come, in all that future progress, alsodim with its own blue haze, what was she to do? Mr. Falkirkcould take care of her property, --who could take care of _her?_Deep was the look of her brown eyes, close and controlling thepressure of her lips: the wrist where the three bracelets layfelt the light grasp of her other hand. 

The coach rolled on, through thickening air and darkening sky, air thick also with a smell of smoke which it was odd no onetook note of; until the horses trotted round a sudden turn ofthe road into the very cause of it all. The blue was spottednow with faint red fire; with dull streaks as of beds ofcoals, and little sharp points of flame. On both sides of theroad, creeping among the pines and leaping up into them, thefire was raging. A low sound from Wych Hazel, a sound ratherof horror than fear, yet curiously pitiful and heart-stirring, roused both her friends in an instant. Almost at the sameinstant the coach came to a standstill, and Rollo jumped out. 

'What's the matter, Rollo?'

'Fire in the woods, sir. We must turn about; that's all. '

The elder of the two women, who had just waked up, asked witha terrified face, 'if there was any danger?' but nobodyanswered her. Rollo took his seat again; at the same time thehorses' heads came about. 

'What are you going to do?' she demanded. 

'We are going back a little way. There is fire along the roadahead of us; and the horses might set their feet upon some hotashes, which wouldn't be good for them. '

'But we're goin' back'ards!--where we come from! Calry, we'regoin' back hum!'

'We shall turn again presently, ' said Rollo. 'Have patience afew minutes. '

He spoke so calmly, the women were quieted. Mr. Falkirk, however, leaned back no more. He watched the hazy smoke by theroadside; he watched generally; and now and then his eyefurtively turned to Wych Hazel. For some little time theytravelled back hopefully on their way, though the smokyatmosphere was too thick to let any one forget the obstaclewhich had turned them. It grew stifling, breathed so long, andit did not clear away; but though every one noticed this, noone spoke of it to his neighbour. Then at last it began toweigh down more heavily upon the forest, and visible puffs andcurls in the dense blue suggested that its substance wasbecoming more palpable. 

'Rollo--', said Mr. Falkirk in an undertone. 

'Yes!' said the other, just as the coach again came to asudden stop and a volley of exclamations, smothered and notsmothered, sounded from the coach box. Both gentlemen sprangout. 

'Good patience!' said the older of the two women, 'it's thefire again! it's all round us! O I wisht I hadn't a'come! Iwisht I was to hum!'--and she showed the earnestness of thewish by beginning to cry. Her companion sat still and turnedvery pale. Paler yet, but with every nerve braced, Wych Hazelstood in the road to see for herself. The gentlemen wereconsulting. 

The fire had closed in upon the road they had passed over anhour or two before. There it was, smoking, and breathingalong, gathering strength every minute; while a low, murmuringroar told of its out-of-sight progress. What was to be done?The driver declared, on being pressed, that a branch road, theLupin road it was called, was to his knowledge but a littledistance before them; a quarter of an hour would reach it. 

'Drive on, then, '--said Rollo, turning to put Wych Hazel intothe coach. 

The man mumbled, that he did not know whether his horses wouldgo through the fire. 

'_I_ know. They will. We will go straight on. You are notafraid, ' he said, meeting Hazel's eyes for a moment. It wasnot more than half a second, but nature's telegraph works wellat such instants. Wych Hazel saw an eye steady and clear, which seemed to brave danger and not know confusion. He saw awistful face, with the society mask thrown by, and only thegirl's own childish self remaining. 

'Afraid to go on? no, ' she said; and then felt a scarcelydefined smile that warmed his eyes and brow as he answered, 'There is no need'--and put her into the coach. In both touchand tone there lay a promise; but she had no time to think ofit. The coach was moving on again; the women were veryfrightened, and cried and moaned by way of relieving theirfeelings at the expense of other people's. Mrs. Saddler, whohas hitherto used only her eyes, now clasped her fingerstogether and fell to the muttering of short prayers over andover under her breath, the urgency of which redoubled when thecoach had gone a little further and the fire and smoke beganto wreathe thicker on both sides of the road. 

'There is no occasion, Mrs. Saddler, ' said Mr. Falkirksomewhat sternly. 'Be quiet, and try to show an example ofsense to your neighbours. '

'Did you never say your prayers before?' said Rollo turningtowards her; they sat on the same seat. He spoke half kindly, half amused, but with that mingled--though ever so slightly--anexpression of meaning more pungent; all together overcame Mrs. Saddler. She burst into a fit of tears, which nervousness madeuncontrollable. 

'What have I done?' said the young man as the weeping becamegeneral at his end of the coach. 'It is dangerous to meddlewith edge tools! Come, cheer up! we shall leave all this smokebehind us in a few minutes. You'll see clear directly. '

His tone was so calm the women took courage from it, andventured to use their eyes again. The stage-coach had left theburning road; they were going across the woods in anotherdirection; the air was soon visibly more free of smoke. Thedriver was hopeful, and sending his horses along at a goodpace. The shower withinside dried up; and Rollo throwinghimself back upon the seat gazed steadfastly out of thewindow. Wych Hazel had gazed at him while he spoke to theothers, with a sort of examining curiosity in her brown eyesthat was even amused; but now she became as intent as himselfon affairs outside of the coach. 

For a while all was quiet. Mrs. Saddler sat in brownstupefaction after having received such rebukes, and no moreapples were brought forward on the front seat. The womenwhispered together and watched their fellow-travellers--Rolloespecially. But at length it became evident to the keenerobservers of the party that the air was thickening again; thesmell of burning woods which filled the air was growing morepungent, the air more warm; those visible waves of the blueatmosphere began to appear again. Once Mr. Falkirk leanedforward as if to address Rollo; he thought better of it andfell back without speaking. And on they went. The smell ofburning and the thick stifling smoke became very oppressive. 

'There is a large tract on fire, Rollo, ' Mr. Falkirk remarkedat length. 

'Probably. '

In another minute the coach halted. Rollo put his head out ofthe window to speak to the coachman, and the cool tone inwhich he asked, 'What is it?' Wych Hazel felt at the time andremembered afterwards. The driver's answer was unheard by allbut one. Rollo threw himself out. 

'Stay where you are, ' he said to Mr. Falkirk as he shut thedoor. 'You keep order and I'll make order. '

He went forward. The coach stood still, with that fearfulwreathing of the blue vapour thicker and nearer around it. Thesmell became so strong that the thought forced itself uponevery one, they must have come upon the fire again. The womanwanted to get out. Mr. Falkirk dissuaded them. Wych Hazel keptabsolutely still. In a moment or two Rollo appeared at Mr. Falkirk's side of the coach, and spoke rather low. 'I am goingto make explorations. Keep all as you are. '

Mr. Falkirk spoke lower still. 'Is the fire ahead?'

The answer was not in English or French. Looking from herwindow as far as she could, Wych Hazel now saw Rollo cross theroad and make for a tall pine which stood at a littledistance. She saw him throw his coat and hat on the ground;then catching one of the long lithe branches he was in amoment off the ground and in the tree; yes, and makingdeterminately for the top of it. The 'red squirrel' had notlearnt climbing for nothing; agile, steady, quick, he mountedand mounted. She grew dizzy with looking. Mr. Falkirk had notthe same view. 

'What's he doing? what are we waiting for? Can you see?' heasked impatiently. 

'Yes--they are trying to find out which way to go, sir. '

Mr. Falkirk made a movement as if to get out himself; thenchecked it, seeing the helpless bevy of women who weredependent on him and now in the utmost perturbation. Standingstill tried their nerves. To keep order withinside the coachwas as much as he could attend to. Cries and moans andquestions of involved incoherency, poured upon him. Would theyever get home? would the fire catch the coach? would itfrighten the horses? what were they stopping for?--were some ofthe simplest inquiries that Mr. Falkirk had to hear andanswer; in the midst of which one of the ladies assuredherself and him that if 'Isaiah had come along with them theywould never have got into such a fix. ' Mrs. Saddler Mr. Falkirk peremptorily silenced; the others he soothed as besthe might; and all the while Wych Hazel watched the signswithout, and followed the climber in the pine tree, followinghim in his venturesome ascent and descent, which were bothmade with no lack of daring. He was on the ground at last, swinging himself from the end of a pine branch which he hadcompelled into his service; he came straight to Mr. Falkirk, heated, but mentally as cool as ever. 

'I see our way, ' he said, 'I am going on the box myself. Don'tbe concerned. I have driven a post-coach in England. '

He looked across to Wych Hazel, as he spoke, and his eyecarried the promise again. Wych Hazel met his look, thoughwith no answer in her own; fear, or self-control, or somethingback of both, made the very lines of her face still; only asort of shiver of feeling passed over them as he said, 'Don'tbe concerned. ' All this passes in a second; then Rollo is onthe box with the stage driver and the stage is in motionagain. But it is motion straight on to where Wych Hazel hasseen that the smoke is thickest. The horses go fast; they knowthat another hand has the reins; the ground is swiftlytravelled over. Now the puffs of smoke roll out round anddefined from the burning woodland; and then, above the rattleof wheels and tread of hoofs, is heard another sound, --aspiteful snapping and crackling, faint but increasing. Can theair be borne?--it is hard to breathe; and flame, yes, flame isleaping from the dried leaves and curling out here and therefrom a tree. Mrs. Saddler put her head out of the coach. 

'Oh, sir!' she shrieked, 'he is taking us right into it! Ostop him! we'll be burned, sure! it's all fire--it's all fire!'

The chorus of shrieks became now almost a worse storm withinthan the tempest of fire which was raging without. The womenwere wild. It was an awful moment for everybody. The fire hadfull possession on both sides of the road, viciously sparklingand crackling and throwing out jets of flames and volumes ofsmoke, threatening to dispute the way with the stage coach;yet through it lay the only way to safety. It could not beborne long; the horses, urged by a hand that knew how to applyall means of stimulus and spared none, drew the coach along ata furious speed. The speed alone was distracting to the poorwomen, who had never known the like; the coach seemed to them, doubtless, hastening to destruction. Their shrieks wereuncontrollable; and indeed no topics of comfort could beurged, when manifestly they were fleeing for their lives fromthe fire, and the fire on every side, before and behind themwas threatening with fearful assertion of power that theyshould not escape. How swiftly thoughts careered through themind of the one silent member of the company--thoughts likethose quick flashed of flame, those dark curls of smoke. Thequestions she had been debating two hours before--were they allto have one short, sharp answer?--And what would become of herthen? Were such days as the one before yesterday foreverended? How would it feel to be caught and wreathed about likeone of those pines--how would Mr. Rollo feel to see it--and whatif all the rest should be dead, there in the fire, and sheonly half dead; together with a strange impatience to know theworst and endure the worst. She had drawn back a little fromthe window, driven in by the scorching air, but looked outstill with both hands up to shield her eyes. She did not knowinto what pitiful lines her mouth had shaped itself, nor whatfaintness and sickness were creeping over her with everybreath of that smoke. The time was, after all, not long; butin the thickest of the fire, when the smoke literally chokedup the way before the horses' eyes, the animals suddenlystopped; from a furious speed, the coach came to a blankstand-still. A voice was heard from the coach-box cheering thehorses--but the dead pause continued. And now when the rattleof the wheels ceased, the sweep of the fiery storm could beheard and felt. A wind had risen, or more likely was createdby the great draught of the fire; and its rush through thewoods, driving the flames before it, and catching up theclouds of smoke to pile them upon the faces and throats of thetravellers was with a hiss and a fury and a blinding whichcame like the malice of a spiteful thing. It was almostimpossible to breathe; and yet the coach stood still! A half-minute seemed the growth of a year. The women became frantic;Mr. Falkirk kept them in the coach by the sheer exertion offorce. Wych Hazel in vain strained her eyes to see through thesmoke what the detaining cause was. 

The horses had been scared at last by the fire crackling andsnapping in their faces, and confounded by the clouds ofsmoke. Bewildered, they had stopped short; and voice and whipwere powerless against fear. That was a moment never to beforgotten, at least by those withinside the stage-coach, whocould do nothing but wait and scream. 

'Hush! the horses are frightened: that is all, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'He's----what's he doing, Wych?--yes, he's blinding theleaders; that's it. There!'

The intense anxiety which was smothered in every one of thesewords, Wych Hazel long remembered. They saw, as he spoke, theycould see Rollo at the horses' heads, going from one to theother; they saw him dimly through the smoke; they caught thelight of something white in his hand. Mr. Falkirk had guessedright. Then they saw Rollo throw himself postillion-wise uponone of the leaders. In another moment the coach moved, doubtfully; then amid the rush and roar they could hear thecheer of their charioteer's voice, and the frightened animalsplunged on again. Presently, encouraged perhaps by a littleopening in the smoke, they dashed forward as heartily as ever, and--yes--the smoke was less thick and the air less dark, andmomentarily brightening. The worst was over. Surely the worstwas over, but the travellers drew breath if freer yetfearfully, till the lessening cloud and disappearing fire andstillness in the woods, said that had left the danger behind. Black charred stems and branches began to show what had beenwhere they now were; little puffs of grey smoke from halfconsumed tufts of moss and old stumps of great trees were allthat was left of the army of fire that had marched that way. 

The horses were brought back to a moderate going. A quietingof the storm within accompanied the passing away of the stormwithout. Fairly overcome now, dizzy besides with the almostflaming current which had blown full against her in that lastcharge through the fire, Wych Hazel drooped her head lower andlower till it rested on the sill of the window; but no onemarked just then. The women were drying their eyes anduttering little jets of excited or thankful exclamation. Mr. Falkirk watched from his window what was to be done next. 

'We'll have to put up, if it be onconvenient, ' said thedriver. 'Can't ask a team to do _more'n_ that at a time, sir. 'Tain't no tavern, neither--but there's Siah Sullivan's; he'sgot fodder, and food, allays, for a friend in need. '

'How far is Lupin?' called out Mr. Falkirk. 'Aren't we on theLupin road?'

'Na--it's a good bit 'tother side o' that 'ere flamin'pandemony, sir, Lupin's. '

'No it isn't! I mean Lupin, where Braddock's mill used to be--old John Braddock's. '

' 'Taint called Lupin now, ' observed the driver, --'that ere'sWest Lupinus. Wal--John Braddock's there now; it's four or fivemile straight ahead. '

'We can go there, ' said Rollo. 'That will give us the bestchance. '

Gently they took those three or four miles. The open countryto which they soon came, getting out of the woods, looked verylovely and peaceful to them; the fire had not been there, andquiet sunshine lay along the fields. In the last mile or twothe fields gave place again to broken country; a brawlingstream was heard and seen by intervals, black and chafing overa rocky bed. Then the road descended sharply, among thickleafage, fresh and fair, not pine needles; and finally at thebottom of the descent the stage stopped. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE MILL FLOOR. 

The place was a dell in the woods, the bottom filled with adark, clear little lake. At the lower end of it stood themill; picturesque enough under the trees, with its great doorsopening upon the lake. On the floor within could be seen thebags of flour and grain piled about, and the miller passing toand fro. It was deeply still; the light came cool and greenthrough the oaks and maples and ashes; the trickling of waterwas heard. Dark slept the little lake, overshadowed by theleafy banks which shut it in; the only chief spot of light wasthe miller's open door, where the sunbeams lit up his bags andhim; the mill-stream brawled away somewhere below, and beyondthe mill the road curled away out of sight to mount the hillagain. This was Braddock's mill. 

Mr. Falkirk got out, and then Mr. Rollo helped out the womenand Mrs. Saddler, who was confused out of all her proprieties, for she pushed before her young lady; finally Wych Hazel. 

'How do you do?' said he, scanning her. 

Apparently the dizziness had not gone off, for she raised herhead and came out of the coach in the slowest and mostmechanical way, lifting her hand and pushing back her hairwith a weary sort of gesture as he spoke. So weary her facewas, so utterly subdued, it might have touched anybody to seeit. It never seemed to occur to her that the question neededan answer. 

'Your best chance is the mill, ' said he; 'I think you can restthere. At any rate, it is your chance. '

He put her hand upon his arm and led her down the few steps ofrocky way to the mill door. Mr. Falkirk followed. The womenhad paired off to seek the miller's house, out of sight aboveon the bank. Only Mrs. Saddler came after Mr. Falkirk. 

The mill floor was large, cool and clean; that is, in theshade, and with the exception of the dust of flour oneverything. Mr. Falkirk entered into explanations with themiller; while Rollo, after a brief word of leave-asking, proceeded to arrange a pile of grain bags so as to form anextempore divan. Harder might be; and over it he spread thegentlemen's linen dusters and all the travelling shawls of theparty; and upon it then softly placed Wych Hazel. Poor child!she was used to cushions, and in need of them, from the wayshe dropped down among these. She had thrown off her hat, andMr. Falkirk stopped and unfastened her mantle, and softlybegan to pull off one of her gloves; the miller's daughter, afair, plump, yellow-haired damsel, coming out from among thegrain bins, began upon the other. 

'What's happened here?' said she, pityingly. 

'Have you anything this lady could eat?' was the counter-question. 'She is exhausted; fire in the woods drove us out ofthe way. '

'Do tell! I heard say the woods was all afire. Why there'senough in the house, but it ain't here. We live up the hill aways. I'll start and fetch something--only say what. O here'sthis, if she's fainted. '--And producing a very amulet-lookingbottle of salts, suspended round her neck by a blue ribband, she at once administered a pretty powerful whiff. With greatsuddenness Wych Hazel laid hold of the little smelling bottle, opening her brown eyes to their fullest extent and exclaiming:

'What in the world are you all about!'

'Ah!' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Get what you can my good girl; onlydon't stand about it. Can you give her a glass of milk? or acup of tea?'

The girl left them and sprang away up the path at a rate thatshowed her good will, followed by Rollo. Arrived at themiller's house, which proved a poor little affair, the cup oftea was hastily brewed; and Rollo having contrived to find outpretty well the resources of the family in that as well as inother lines of accommodation, and having despatched along withthe tea whatever he thought might stand least chance of beingrefused, left the miller's daughter to convey it, and betookhimself to his own amusements. 

The meal was not much. But when it was over Wych Hazel found abetter refreshment and one even more needed just then. Mrs. Saddler at a little distance nodded and dreamed; Mr. Falkirkalso had moved off and at least made believe rest. Then didhis ward take the comfort, a rare one to her, of pouring out amindful to somebody of her own sex and age. It was only to thelittle miller's daughter; yet the true honest face and raptattention made amends for all want of conventionalities. 

'What did you get that salts for?' she began. 

'He said you was faint. '

'Who is "he"?'

'The gentleman--I mean the young one. '

'Ah--Well, but I was holding you down by the blue ribband forever so long. '

'Yes--because--I had promised not to take it off, ' said thegirl, blushing. 

'What a promise?'

'O, but you know, ma'am--I mean, it was give to me, and so Ipromised. When folks give you things they always expect younever to take 'em off. '

'Do they?' said Wych Hazel. But then she launched forth intothe account of all the day's distress, electrifying herlistener with some of the fear and excitement so long pent up. Yet the mill girl's comment was peculiar. 

'It does make a person feel very solemn to be so near todeath. '

'Solemn!' cried Wych Hazel. 'Is _that_ all you would feel, Phoebe?'

'I'm not much afraid of pain, you know, ma'am--and if the firetook it couldn't last long. '

'But Phoebe;--' she sat straight up on her floury cushions, looking at the girl's quiet face. 'What do you mean, Phoebe?'--She could not have told what checked the expression of hergrowing wonder. 

'O lie down, ma'am, please! Why I only mean, ' said Phoebespeaking with perfect simplicity--'You know God calls us all todie somehow--and if he called me to die so, it wouldn't makemuch difference. I shouldn't think of it when I'd got toheaven. '

Again some undefined feeling sealed Wych Hazel's lips. She laydown as she was desired, and with her hand over her eyesthought, and wondered, and fell asleep. 

For some hours thereafter the sunbeams were hardly quieterthan the party they lighted on the miller's floor. Wych Hazelslept; Mrs. Saddler was even more profoundly wrapped inforgetfulness; Mr. Falkirk sat by keeping guard. The miller'sdaughter had run up the hill to her home for a space. As toRollo, he had not been seen. His gun was his companion, andwith that it was usual for him to be in the woods much of thetime. He came back from his wanderings however as the daybegan to fall, and now sat on a stone outside the mill door, very busy. The little lake at his feet still and dark, withthe side of the woody glen doubled in its mirror, and thesunlight in the tops of the trees reflected in golden glitterfrom the middle of the pool, was a picture to tempt the eye:but Rollo's eye, if it glanced, came back again. He waspicking the feathers from a bird he had shot, and doing itdeftly. Sauntering leisurely up the miller approached him. 

'Now that's what I like, ' he remarked; 'up to anything, eh?You don't seem so much used up as the rest on 'em. Even thelittle one talked herself to sleep at last!'

'Have you got a match, Mr. Miller?'

'No--I haven't, ' said the man of flour--'I always light my pipewith a burning glass. Won't that serve your turn? So there shesits, asleep, and my Phoebe sits and looks at her. '

'I've something else that will serve my turn, ' said the hunterapplying to his gun. 'But stay--I do not care to see any morefire to-day than is necessary. '--And drawing his work off to asafe place, he went on to kindle tinder and make a nice littlefire. --'Haven't you learned how to make bread yet, Mr. Miller?'

'Not a bit!' said he laughing. 'And when you've got a wife andfour daughters you won't do much fancy cookig neither, Iguess. But there's Phoebe--'

'A mistake, Mr. Miller, ' said the fancy cook. 'Best always tobe independent of your wife--and of everything else. '

And impaling his bird on a sharp splinter he stuck it upbefore the fire, to the great interest and amusement of themiller. Another spectator also wandered out there, and she waspresently sent back to the mill. 

'Miss Hazel, ' said Mrs. Saddler, coming to the 'divan' wherethe young lady and her guardian were both sitting, --'Mr. Rollosays, ma'am, are you ready for him to come in?'

'I am awake, if that is what he means. '

'What do you mean, Mrs. Saddler?'

'If you please, sir, I am sure I don't know what I mean, --butthat's a very strange gentleman, Miss Kennedy. There he's goneand shot a robin--at least, I suppose it was him for I don'tknow who else should have done it-- and his gun's standing by--and then he's gone and picked it ma'am--picked the feathersoff, and they 're lyin' all round; and then he washed it inthe lake, and he was hard to suit, for he walked a good way upthe lake before he found a place where he _would_ wash it; andnow he's made a fire and stuck up the bird and roasted it; andwhy he didn't get me or Miss Miller to do it I don'tcomprehend. And he's got plates and things, ma'am, and salt, ma'am, and bread; and that's what _he_ means, sir; and he want'sto know if you're ready. The bird's all done. '

Wych Hazel looked anything but ready. She was very young inthe world's ways, very new to her own popularity, and somehowMrs. Saddler's story touched her sensitiveness. The shy, shrinking colour and look told of what at six years old wouldhave made her hide her face under her mother's apron. No suchrefuge being at hand, however, and she obliged to face theworld for herself, as soon as she had despatched a verydignified message to Mr. Rollo, the young lady's feelingsought relief in irritation. 

'I suppose _I_ am not to blame this time, for making myselfconspicuous, sir! Have you given me up as a bad bargain, Mr. Falkirk?'

'It can't be helped, my dear, '--said her guardian somewhatdryly, and soberly too. 'I think however it is rather somebodyelse who is making himself conspicuous at this time. '

He became conspicuous to their vision a minute after, appearing in the mill door-way with a little dish in his handand attended by Phoebe with other appliances; but nothingmortal could less justify Wych Hazel's sensation of shyness. With the coolness of a traveller, the readiness of a hunter, and the business attention of a cook or a courier, both whichoffices he had been filling, he went about his arrangements. The single chair that was in the mill was taken from Mr. Falkirk and brought up to do duty as a table, with a boardlaid upon it. On this board was set the bird, hot and savoury, on its blue-edged dish; another plate with bread and salt, anda glass of water; together with a very original knife andfork, that were probably introduced soon after the savages'left. ' Mrs. Saddler's eyes grew big as she looked; but Rolloand the miller's girl understood each other perfectly andwanted none of her help. Well----

'Girls blush sometimes because they are alive'--but seeing itcould not be helped, as Mr. Falkirk had said, Wych Hazelrallied whatever of her was grown up, and tried to do justiceto both the cooking and the compliment. The extreme gravityand propriety of her demeanour were a little suspicious to onewho knew her well, and there could be no sort of question asto the prettiest possible curl which now and then betrayeditself at the corners of her mouth; but Miss Kennedy hadherself remarkably in hand, and talked as demurely from behindthe breast-bone of her robin as if it had been a smallmountain ridge. Mr. Falkirk looked on. 

'Where did you find that, Rollo?'

'Somewhere within a mile of circuit, sir, ' said Rollo, who hadtaken a position of ease in the mill doorway, half lying onthe floor, and looking out on the lake. 

'You are a good provider. '

'Might have had fish--if my tackle had not been out of reach. Idid manage to pick up a second course, though----Miss Phoebe, Ithink it is time for the second course----'

His action, at least, Phoebe understood, if not his words; foras he sprang up and cleared the board of the relics of therobin, the miller's daughter, looking as if the whole thingwas a play, brought out from some crib a large platter of wildstrawberries bordered with vine leaves; along with some bowlsof very good looking milk. 

'Upon my word, Rollo!'--said the other gentleman. 

'Ah, that touches you, Mr. Falkirk! You don't deserve it--butyou may have some. And I will be generous--Mr. Falkirk, here isa wing of the robin. '

'No, thank you, ' said the other, laughing. 'Why these arefine!'

'Is the air fine out of doors, Mr. Rollo?' asked the younglady. 

'Nothing can be finer. '

'What you call "strong, " sir?'

'Strong as a rose--or as a lark's whistle--or as June sunlight;strong in a gentle way; I don't admire things that are _too_strong. '

'Things that you think ought to be weak. But I was trying tofind out whether your private collation of air could havetaken away your appetite. '

'I think not--I haven't inquired after it, but now that youspeak of the matter, I think it must have been bread andcheese. '

'And I suppose you tried the strawberries--just to see if theywere ripe. '

'No, I didn't, but I will now. ' And coming to Wych Hazel'sside he proceeded to help her carefully and to put a bowl ofmilk in suggestive proximity to her right hand; then taking ahandful himself he stood up and went on talking to Mr. Falkirk. 

'What is your plan of proceeding, sir?'

'I don't know, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'I am puzzled. The coachgoes back to-morrow morning to the foot of the mountain; thereis no object in our making such a circuit, if we could get onfrom here, --besides the fact that none of us want to go overthe ground again; but to get on from here seems out of thequestion. 

'It seems to me, to stay here is out of the question, 'observed Rollo. 

'I don't see how to help it--for one night. The only solevehicle here is Mr. Miller's little wagon, and that will holdbut two. '

'So I understand. --Those strawberries are not bad, ' he said, appealing to Wych Hazel. 

'A very mild form of praise, Mr. Rollo. Harmless andinoffensive--to berries. What will you do, then, Mr. Falkirk?seeing there are five of us. '

'I am in a strait. Could you spend the night here in anytolerable comfort, Wych, do you suppose?'

'I am at a loss to understand your system of arithmetic, 'observed Rollo. 

'Simple addition. I suppose, sir, I could spend the night herewhere other human creatures can. And as I shall take Phoebewith me when I go, will you please arrange with her father? Itold her she could have what wages she liked. '

'What shall I arrange with her father, Miss Hazel?'

'Why--anything he wants arranged, sir. What the wages shallbe. '

'Your scheme of travel may be continued to any extent, MissHazel, if you continue to do business on an equally logicalplan. '

She laughed, a good, honest, merry little laugh, but furtherdirect reply made none. 

'That puff of displeasure blows me fairly away!' she said, jumping up and floating off to the mill door like any thistledown, on the tips of her toes. 

'Is it possible to make any comfortable arrangement for her atthe miller's house?' Mr. Falkirk asked in a low tone. 

'Not if she be "true princess, " ' said Rollo with a smile. 'There would be more than a few vegetables between MissKennedy and comfort. '----He hesitated, and then suddenly askedWych if she were tired? Certainly her face told of somefatigue, but the busy spirit was unconquered, and she said, 'No--not very much. '

'I am going on to Dr. Maryland's myself--with the miller'shorse and wagon, which I engaged provisionally. If MissKennedy will trust herself to me--perhaps it would be lesswearisome than to stay here; and it would make a jubilee atDr. Maryland's as you know, sir. I will send the wagon backfor you to-morrow, in that case. '

'It is for her to say!' Mr. Falkirk answered, rather gloomily. 'It is a day of adventures, Wych--will you go to meet them, orwill you wait for them? There's no escape either way. ' Hesmiled a little at his ward as he spoke. But her eyes spokeback only amazement. 

'I shall stay with you, sir, of course. ' Clearly Miss Kennedythought her guardian had taken leave of his senses. 

'What if you take the wagon to Dr. Maryland's then, sir; MissKennedy can hardly spend the night here. Even a twenty-fivemile drive is better. '

But Mr. Falkirk had reasons of his own for negativing thatplan, and negatived it accordingly. 

'Go with me, then, ' said Rollo, turning to Wych Hazel. 'I willtake care of you!' And he said it with something of the warmsmile which had met her before, power and promise together. 

'Why, I'm not afraid, ' she said, half laughing, yet half shylytoo; thinking with herself how strange the day had been. Sinceuntil yesterday Mr. Rollo had scarcely paid her ordinaryattention; since until then Mr. Falkirk had always been theone to care for her so carefully. She felt oddly alone, standing there by them both, looking out with her great browneyes steadily into the setting sunshine; and a wistful air ofthought-taking replaced the smile. Rollo remarked that therewas but one unoccupied bed in the miller's house, and thatone, he knew, was laid upon butternuts. 

Mr. Falkirk had been watching his ward. He drew near, and puther hand upon his arm, looking and speaking with gravetenderness. 

'You shall do as you list, my dear; I cannot advise you, for Ido not know which would be worse, the fatigue of going or thefatigue of staying. You must judge. Dr. Maryland will receiveyou as his own child, if you go;--and I will keep you as my ownchild if you stay, ' he added after a second's hesitation. 

'Yes, sir--I know--I think I shall stay. I don't think I can go, Mr. Rollo; and as for the butternuts, ' she added, recoveringher spirits the moment the decision was made, 'any one wholikes to sleep on them may! I shall play mouse among the mealbags. '

'Then I will do what I can to get you out of your difficultiesto-morrow. I hope the play will not include sleeplessness, which is my idea of a mouse. '

He offered his hand, clasped hers, lifted his hat, and wasgone. 

CHAPTER IX. 

CATS. 

With the departure of the more stirring member of the company, Miss Wych had subsided; and in that state could feel that shewas tired. She sat in the doorway of the mill. It was aftersundown; still, bright, sweet, and fair, as after sundown inJune can be. The sky all aglow still with cooler lights; inthe depth of the hollow the morsel of a lake had a darkshining of its own, like a black diamond, or a green jasper, with the light off. Mrs. Saddler was gone up the hill withPhoebe, to get her share of hospitality. Mr. Falkirk hadsupped on the remains of the strawberries and milk, and wouldhave nothing more. Guardian and ward were alone. The stillnessof Summer air floated down from the tree-tops, and did notstir the lake. 

'Wych, how do you like seeking your fortune? I am curious tobe informed?'

'Thank you, sir. The finding to-day has gone so far beyond myexpectations, that I am willing to rest the pursuit till to-morrow. '

'Fortune and you clasp hands rather roughly at first settingout! But what do you think of the train she has brought withher in these seven days?'

'What train, sir?'

'I asked you what you thought of it. Answer straight like agood child. '

'It's a wonderful train, if it has made a good child of me, 'she answered, with a half laugh. 'Do you mean of people, orevents, sir?'

'The events are left behind, child; the people follow. '

'Will they?' said Wych Hazel. 'Dr. Maryland and all? Mr. Kingsland might stay behind. Nobody will ever want him. '

'All the rest have your good leave!' said Mr. Falkirk, with anexpression--Wych could not tell what sort of an expression, itwas so complicated. 'Do you think it is an easy office I haveto fill?' he went on. 

'Maybe not, sir. I thought you seemed very ready to give itup. I have felt like stray baggage to-day. '

'How do you suppose I am to guard you from so many enemies?'

'Ready to send me round the country, with the first knight-errant that starts up?' said the girl, in an aggrieved voice. 'And if _I_ had proposed such a thing!'

'My dear, ' said Mr. Falkirk, 'you would have been perfectlysafe at Dr. Maryland's. And much better off than in this oldmill. I am not sure but I ought to have made you go. '

'What do you mean by "enemies, " just now, Mr. Falkirk?'

'There's an old proverb, ' said Mr. Falkirk with a quirl of hislips, 'that "a cat may look at a king. " And no doubt it is aqueen's liability. But how am I to guard you from the teethand the claws?'

'My dear sir, very few cats are dangerous. I am not muchafraid of being scratched. '

'Have you any idea how many of your grimalkins are coming toChickaree this Summer?'

'No, sir. The more the better; for then they will have fulloccupation for their claws without me. '

'Ah, my dear, ' said Mr. Falkirk, 'don't you know that the catgets within springing distance before the claws are shown?'

'Yes, sir; but you are presupposing a stationary mouse. Pray, how many fierce, soft-pawed, sharp-clawed monsters presideover your ideas at present?'

'Six or seven, ' said Mr. Falkirk with the utmost gravity. 'Fortune has come upon you suddenly, Wych. '

It was very pretty, the way she laughed and flushed. 

'They are not all troubled with whiskers, sir--my kind medicalfriend, for instance. '

'You think so! Pray, in your judgment, what is he, then?'

'Not a cat, sir, and yet no lion. Mr. Rollo calls him a"specimen. " '

'Of what?' (dryly enough. )

'I rebuked him for the expression, sir, but did not inquireits meaning. '

'Do you suppose that the English traveller, Mr. Shenstone, will come to Chickaree this Summer for the purpose ofinspecting the Morton manufactories?'

'Let us 'ope not, sir. Mr. Morton will, for his home is justthere. He told me so. '

'And young Nightingale has it in his mind to spend a good dealof the Summer at his aunt's, Mrs. Lasalle's; for he told meso. I saw him in town. '

'Mr. Falkirk, you are not a bit like yourself to-day. Are allmen cats, sir?' (very gravely. )

'My dear, ' said Mr. Falkirk, 'most men are, when they see aChickaree mouse in their path!'

'Poor little me!' said Wych Hazel, laughing. She was silent aminute, then went cheerfully on. 'I know, Mr. Falkirk, I shalldepend upon you! We're in a fairy tale, you remember, sir, andyou must be the three dogs. '

'Will you trust me, Wych, when I take such a shape to youreyes?'

'Do you remember?' said she, not heeding. 'The first one witheyes like saucers, looking--so! And the next with eyes likemill wheels--so! And the next, with eyes like the full moon!--'At which point Miss Hazel's own eyes were worth looking at. 

'You do not answer me, I observe. Never mind. A woman'sunderstanding, I have frequently observed, develops like aprophecy. '

The night in the mill was better, on the whole, than itpromised. No sound awoke Wych Hazel, till little messengers oflight came stealing through every crack and knot hole of themill, and a many-toed Dorking near by had six times proclaimedhimself the first cock in creation, let the other be who hewould!

To open her eyes was to be awake, with Wych Hazel; and softlyshe stepped along the floor and out on the dewy path to thelake side; and there stood splashing her hands in the waterand the water over her face, with intense satisfaction. Thelake was perfectly still, disturbed only by the dip of a king-fisher or the spring of a trout. She stood there musing overthe last day and the last week, starting various profoundquestions, but not stopping to run them down, --then wentmeandering back to the mill again. On her way she came to aspot in the grass where there was a sprinkling of robin'sfeathers. Wych Hazel stopped short looking at them, smiling toherself, then suddenly stopped and chose out three or four;and went back with quick steps to the mill. 

Bread and tea were had in the open air, with the seasoning ofthe June morning. The stage coach rumbled off by the road ithad come, bearing with it the two countrywomen, and leaving apile of baggage for Chickaree. The miller came down and sethis mill agoing, excusing himself to his guests by saying thatthere was a good lot of corn to be ground and the people wouldbe along for it. So the mill became no longer a place of rest, and Miss Hazel and her guardian were driven out into the woodsby the rumble and dust and jar of machinery. Do what theywould, it was a long morning to twelve o'clock; when the millceased its rumble and the miller went home to his dinner, andthe weary and warm loiterers came back to the shade of themill floor. Then the sound of wheels was heard at last; thefirst that had broken the solitude that day; and presently atthe mill door Rollo presented himself, looking as if sunshineagreed with him. He shook hands with Mr. Falkirk, but gaveWych Hazel his old stately salutation. 

'I could not come sooner, ' he said. 'I did my best; but it isthirty miles instead of twenty-five. How was the night?'

'Sadly oblivious and uneventful!'

'Mine wasn't! for I was getting dinner for you in my dreamsall night long. Being dependent on other people's resources, you see--However, I had a good little friend to help me!'

'What carriage have you brought for us, Rollo?'

'Dr. Maryland's rockaway, sir; and the miller's wagon for thetrunks. To get anything else would have made much more delay. Is my friend Phoebe here?'

'She will be soon. It is dinner-time in the mill. What do youwant, Mr. Rollo?'

'Three words and a little assistance. '

He went off, and in a little while was back again, accompaniedby Phoebe and plates and glasses; and the two went on to setforth the dinner, which he drew from a great basket that hadcome in the rockaway. All this was done, and order given atthe same time to other matters, with the light-handedpromptitude and readiness of the bird-roasting of yesterday;Rollo assuring Wych Hazel between whiles that travelling was avery good thing, if you took enough of it. 

'Thirty miles this morning, and thirty last night; and howmany yesterday morning?--A hundred, I should say, by mymeasurement. '

'Rollo!--What a dinner you have brought us!' said Mr. Falkirk, who maintained a quiet and passive behaviour. 

'You cannot set off for some hours yet, sir--the horses musthave rest. I believe--but am not sure--that somebody got up veryearly this morning to make that pie. I told them I had leftsome friends in distress; and Primrose and I--did what wecould. I realized this morning what must be the position of aCommissary General on a rapid march. '

The provision on the board called for no excuses. Rollo servedeverybody, even Mrs. Saddler, and afterwards dispensedstrawberries of much larger growth than those of the daybefore. He was the impersonation of gay activity as long asthere was anything to do; and then he subsided into ease-taking. The smoke of a cigar did not indeed offend MissKennedy's mill-door; but in a luxurious position under a treeat some distance the sometime smoker settled himself with hissketch-book, and seemed to be comfortably busy at play, tillit was time for moving. 

Wych Hazel had been in an altogether quiet mood since thearrival of the rockaway. In that mood she had watched theunpacking of the basket, in that mood she had eaten herdinner. It was strange, even to herself, the sort of quietusMr. Rollo was to her. Not feeling free to play with him, by nomeans disposed to play before him, she had ventured to offerher services no further than by asking him what he wanted;then left him to himself; oddly conscious all the while, thatif it had been any other one of her new feline friends, shewould have put her little hand into the business and thebasket with pleasant effect. So she sat still and watchedhim, --giving a bit of a smile now and then indeed to his directremarks, but as often only a fuller look of the brown eyes. Since the gentleman had been under the tree she had been idlybusy with her own thoughts, having sketched herself tired inthe morning. "Prim" she recognized at once--Dr. Maryland'ssister, --she had heard him speak of her. Would she be a friend?any one to whom these many thoughts might come out? So WychHazel sat, gazing out upon the lengthening shadows, leaningher head somewhat wearily in her hand, wishing the journeyover and herself on her own vantage ground at Chickaree. Itwould be such a help to be mistress of the house!--for theselast two days she had been nothing but a brown parcel, marked"fragile"--"with care. "

CHAPTER X. 

CHICKAREE. 

Rollo had driven the rockaway down and was going to driveback. He put Wych Hazel into the carriage, recommending to herto lean back in the corner and go to sleep. Phoebe was giventhe place beside her; Mr. Falkirk mounted to the front seat;and off they drove. 

It was about four o'clock of a fine June day, and the air wasgood to breathe; but the way was nothing extraordinary. Apleasant country, nothing more; easy roads for an hour, thenheavier travelling. 

The afternoon wore on; the miles were plodded over; as the sunwas dipping towards the western horizon they came into sceneryof a new quality. At once more wild and more dressed; theground bolder and more rocky in parts, but between filled withgentler indications. The rockaway drew up. The driver lookedback into the carriage, while the other gentleman got down. 

'Miss Kennedy, if you will change places with Mr. Falkirk nowyou will be rewarded. I have something here a great dealbetter than that book. '

'I have not been reading--I have been watching for landmarksfor some time, ' she said, as she made the change; 'but I thinkI can never have gone to Chickaree by this road. '

The change was great. However fair it had looked fromwithinside, as soon as she got out on the front seat WychHazel found that a flood of bright, slant sunbeams weresearching out all the beauty there was in the land, andwinning it into view. It was one of those illuminated hours, that are to the common day as an old painted and jewelledmissal to an ordinary black letter. 

'Is it better than your book?' said the charioteer, whosereins were clearly only play to him, and who was much moreoccupied with his companion. She glanced round at him, withthe very June evening in her eyes, dews and sunbeams and all. 

'Better than most of the books that ever were written, Isuppose. But the book was not bad, Mr. Rollo. '

'What book was it? to be mentioned in the connection. '

' "I Promessi Sposi. " '

'Unknown to me. Give me an idea of it--while we are getting upthis hill--there'll be something else to talk of afterwards. '

'Two people are betrothed, and proceed to get into all mannerof difficulties. That is the principal idea so far. I haven'tcome to the turn of the story, which takes the thread out ofits tangle. '

'A very stupid idea! Yet you said the book was not a badbook?' he said, looking gravely round upon her. 

'No, indeed. And the idea is not stupid, in the book I mean, because the people could not help themselves, and so you getinterested for them. '

'Do you get interested in people who cannot help themselves?'

'Yes, I think so--always, --people who _cannot_ in the impossiblesense. Not those who don't know or wont try. But my words didnot mean just that. I should have said, help _it_--help being indifficulties. '

'I believe people can get out of difficulties, ' said Rollo. 'What was the matter with these?'

'O the difficulties were piled on their heads by other people. Lucia was a peasant, but she was "si bella" that one of thegrandees wanted to get her away from Renzo. '

'I don't see the difficulties yet. What next?'

'No, of course you don't!' said Wych, warming in defense ofher book. 'But if some Don Rodrigo forbade somebody to marry_you_--and then sent a party to run away with your bride--so thatshe had to go into a convent and you wander round the world inill humour--I daresay your clearness of vision would improve. '

'I dare say it would, ' said Rollo, passing a hand over hiseyes, --'I think it would have to grow worse before all thoseevents could happen! But on the highest round of that ladderof impossibilities, I think I should see my way into theconvent, --and escape the ill humour. '

'But Lucia would not be shut up from you, but from thegrandee. It would only make matters worse to bring her out. '

'Not for me, ' said Rollo. 'It might for the book, because, asyou say, then the interest would be gone. Do you think thepeople in a book are real people?--while you are reading it?'

'Not quite--they might have been real. I don't feel just as ifI should if I knew they were. '

'In that case the interest would be less?' he said, with alaughing look. 

'Yes--or at least different. There are so many things toqualify your interest in real living people. '

'Yes. For instance in real life the people who cannot helpbeing in difficulties never interest me as much as the peoplewho get out of them; and so I think most novels are stupid, because the men and women are all real to me. There!' he said, pulling up as they reached the top of an ascent, 'there are nodifficulties in your way here. What do you think of that?'

The hill-top gave a wide view over a rich, cultivated, inhabited country; its beauty was in the wide, generous eye-view and the painter's colours that decked it; for which, broken ground in front and distant low hills gave play to theslant sunbeams. Warm, rich, inviting, looked every inch ofthose wide-spread square miles. 

'Do you know where you are?' said he in an enjoying tone. 

'I suppose near home, --but it's not familiar yet. '

'No, you are some miles from home. Over there to the west, lies Dr. Maryland's--but you can't see it in this light. It'stwo miles away. Do you see, further to the north, standinghigh on a hill, a white house-front that catches the sun?'

'Yes. '

'Mme. Lasalle's, Moscheloo. It's a pretty place--nothing likeChickaree. When we reach the next turning you will catch aglimpse of Crocus in the other direction--do you know whatCrocus is?'

'O yes, the village. Our house was brown, I remember that, --andas you go up the hill Mr. Falkirk's cottage is just by theroadside. Did you tell them to leave Mrs. Saddler there?'

'She will tell them herself, I fancy. Crocus is the placewhere you will be expected to buy sugar and spice. It is somefour miles from Chickaree on that side, and we are about fivemiles from it on this;' and as he spoke he set the horses inmotion. 'I sent on a rescript to Mrs. Bywank, bidding her onher peril to be in order to receive you this evening. Mrs. Bywank and I are old acquaintances, ' he said, looking at WychHazel. 

'Dear Mrs. Bywank! how good she used to be. I haven't seen herbut once since I left home. I'm sure you have a great manyworse acquaintances, Mr. Rollo. '

'I am at a loss to understand how you can be sure of that. ButI have some better. --Miss Kennedy, I want you to give me aboon. Say you will do it. '

'I'll hear it first. '

'Will you? that's fair, I suppose; but if we were betterfriends, I should not be satisfied without a blank check putinto my hands for me to fill up. However, --as I am not to havethat honour on the present occasion I will explain. Let me bethe one to introduce you, some day, to one of your neighbours, whom you do not remember, because she came here since you wentaway. Will you?'

'Why yes, of course, if you wish it--only I will not beresponsible for any accidental introduction that may takeplace first. '

'I will, ' said Rollo. 'Then it is a bargain? I shall ask halfa day's excursion for it. '

'That is as much of a supplement as a woman's postscript, Mr. Rollo. However, I suppose it is safe to let you ask what youlike. '

'You give it to me?'

'Maybe. '

'Then it is a bargain, ' said he, smiling. 'Here is my handupon it. '

She laughed, looked round at him rather wonderingly, but gaveher hand, remarking:

'But you know I have the right to change my mind three times. '

There is a curious language in the touch of hands, sayingoften inexplicably what the coarser medium of words would bepowerless to say; revealing things not meant to be discovered;and also conveying sweeter, finer, more intimate touches offeeling and mood than tongue could tell if it tried. WychHazel remembered this clasp of her hand, and felt it as oftenas she remembered it. There was nothing sentimental; it wasonly a frank clasp, in which her hand for a moment was not herown; and though the clasp did not linger, for that second'scontinuance it gave her an indescribable impression, she couldhardly have told of what. It was not merely the gentleness;she could not separate from that the notion of possession, andof both as being in the mind, to which the hand was an index. But such a thought passes as it comes. Something else in thosefive minutes brought the colour flitting about her face, coming and going as if ashamed of itself; but with it all shewas intensely amused; _she_ was not sentimental, nor evenserious, and the girlish light heart danced a _pas seul_ to sucha medley of tunes that it was a wonder how she could keep stepwith them all. 

'What do you expect to see at Chickaree?'

'Birds, trees, and horses, and--Mr. Falkirk, didn't you saythere would be cats?'

'Let him alone--he is deep in your book, ' said Rollo, as Mr. Falkirk made some astonished response. "I meant, what do youremember of the place? we are almost at the gate. '

'I'll tell you--nothing yet. Ah!'--

Through some lapse in the dense woodland there gleamed uponthem as they swept on, the top of an old tower where thesunbeams lay at rest; and from the top, its white staffglittering with light, floated the heavy folds of a deep blueflag, not at rest there, but curling and waving and shakingout their white device, which was however too far off to bedistinguished. She had said she would tell him, but she neverspoke; after that one little cry, so full of tears andlaughter, he heard nothing but one or two sobs, low and chokeddown. Now the lodge, nestling like an acorn under a great oaktree, came in sight first, then the massive piers of the gate. The gate was wide open, but while the little undergrowth ofchildren started up and took possession of window and door androadside, the gate was held by the head of the house, asturdy, middle aged American. Wych Hazel had leaned out, watching the children; but as the carriage turned through thegateway, and she saw this man, standing there uncovered, caught the working of his brown weatherbeaten face, she bowedher head indeed, in answer to his low salutation, but thendropped her face in her hands in a perfect passion of weeping. It came and went like a Summer storm, and again she waslooking intently. Now past Mr. Falkirk's white domicile, whereher glittering eyes flashed round upon him the "welcome home"which her lips spoke but unsteadily, --then on, on, up the hill, the thick trees hiding the sunset and brushing the carriagewith leafy hands, --it seemed to Mr. Rollo that still as thevery fingers of his companion were, he could almost feel thebound of her spirit. Then out on a little platform of theroad--and there, he did not know why she leaned forward soeagerly, till he saw across the dell the shining of whitemarble. 

He watched her, but drove on without making the least callupon her attention. The views opened and softened as they drewnear the house; the trees here had been more thinned out, andwere by consequence larger; the carriage passed from one greatshadow to another, with the thrushes ringing out their clearmusic and the wild roses breathing upon the evening air. Fromout the forest came wafts of dark dewy coolness, overhead theclouds revelled in splendour. Up still the horses went, everascending, but slowly, for the ascent was steep. The delay, the length of the drive tired her, --she sat up again--she hadbeen quietly leaning back; once or twice her hand went up witha quick movement to drive back the feeling that was passinglimits; then gaining level ground once more, the horses sprangforward, and in the failing twilight they swept round beforethe house. Except the tower, it was but two stories high, thefront stretching along, with wide low steps running from endto end. In unmatched glee Dingee stood on the carriage wayshowing his teeth, --on the steps, striving in vain to clear hereyes so that she might see, was Mrs. Bywank; her kindlyfigure, which each succeeding year had gently developed, robedin her state dress of black silk. 

Taking advantage of her outside position, --regardless of stepsas of wheels, --Wych Hazel vanished from the carriage, it washard to say how. As difficult as it would have been to guessby what witchcraft a person or Mr. Bywank's proportions couldbe spirited through the doorway--out of sight--in a twinkling oftime; yet it was done, and the steps were empty. 

The hill at Chickaree was steepest on the side towards thewest, and down that slope an opening had been cut through thetrees--a sort of pathway for the sunbeams. The direct rays weregone, and only the warm sky glow brightened the hall door, when the young mistress of the place once more appeared. Shestood still a moment and went back again; and then cameDingee. 

'Miss Hazel say, sar, room's ready and supper won't be long. Whar Mass Rollo?'

'I suppose he'll be here directly. '

Mr. Falkirk did not go into the house immediately; he stoodwith folded arms waiting, or watching the fading red glow ofthe western sky. In about ten minutes the tramp of a horse'sfeet heralded the coming of Mr. Rollo, who appeared from thecorner or the house, mounted on an old grey cob, who switchedhis tail and moved his ears as if he thought going out at thattime of day a peculiar proceeding. Dingee staid the rider withthe delivery of his young lady's message. 

'I am afraid supper's more than ready somewhere else. I can'tstay, my friend--my thanks to the lady. ' And letting fall onthe little dark figure who stood at his stirrup, a gold pieceand a smile, Rollo passed him, bent a moment to speak to Mr. Falkirk, and brought the grey cob's ideas to a head bystepping him off at a good pace. 

The room was large, opening by glass doors upon a wildernessof grass, trees and flowers. At every corner glass cupboardsshowed a stock of rare old china; a long sideboard wasbrilliant and splendid with old silver. Dark cabinet warefurnished but not encumbered the room; in the centre a tablelooked all of hospitality and welcome that a table can. Therewas a great store of old fashioned elegance and comfort inWych Hazel's home; no doubt of it; of old-fashioned state too, and old-time respectability; to which numberless old-timewitnesses stood testifying on every hand, from the teapot, thefashion of which was a hundred years ancient, to the uncouthbrass andirons in the fireplace. Mr. Falkirk came in as one towhom it was all very wonted and well known. The candles werenot lit; a soft, ruddy light from the west reddened the greatmirror over the fireplace and gave back the silver sideboardin it. Not till the clear notes of a bugle, the Chickaree tea-bell, had wound about the old house awakening sweet echoes, did Wych Hazel make her appearance. 

'Supper mos' as good hot as de weather, ' remarked Dingee. 'MasRollo, he say he break his heart dat his profess'nal dutiestears him 'way. '

'Dingee, go down stairs, ' said Miss Hazel turning upon him, --'and when you tell stories about Mr. Rollo tell them tohimself, and not to me. Will you come to tea, sir?'

CHAPTER XI. 

VIXEN. 

The birds were taken by surprise next morning. Long before Mr. Falkirk was up, before the house was fairly astir withservants, there was a new voice in their concert; one almostas busy and musical as their own. Reo Hartshorne--the sturdygardener and lodge-keeper--thought so, listening with wonder tohear what a change it made. Wych Hazel had found him outplanting flowers for her, and with his hand taken in both hershad finished the half-begun recognition of last night. Now shestood watching him as he plied his spade, refreshing hislabour with a very streamlet of talk, flitting round him andplucking flowers like a humming-bird supplied with fingers. The servants passing to and fro about their work smiled toeach other; Mrs. Bywank came by turns to the door to catch alook or a word; Reo himself lifted his brown hand and madebelieve it was to brush away the perspiration. Anotherobserver who had come upon the scene, observed it verypassively--a girl, a small girl, in the dress of the poor, andwith the dull eyes of observance which often mark the childrenof the poor. They expressed nothing, but that they looked. 

'Good morning, child, ' said Miss Hazel. 'Do you want me togive you a bunch of flowers?'

'No. '

'What then?'

'Mammy sent me to see if the lady was come. '

'Who is mammy? and what does _she_ want?' said Wych Hazel, cutting more rosebuds and dropping them into her apron. 

'Mammy wants to see the lady. '

'Well, is she coming to see me?'

'She can't come. '

'Why not?'--a quick shower of laughter and dew-drops, calleddown by a fruitless spring after a spray of white roses. 

'She lays abed, ' said the child, after the shower was over. 

'O, is she sick?' with a sudden gravity. 'Then I will come andsee her. Where does she live?'

The child went away as soon as sure arrangements were made forthe fulfilment of the promise. Wych Hazel's first visitor! oneof the two classes sure to find her out with no delay. AndMiss Kennedy was about as well versed in the one as in theother. 

The summons came to her to attend the breakfast room. Mr. Falkirk was there, fixed in an easy chair and pamphlet; themorning stir had not reached him. 

'How long do we remain at Chickaree?' he asked, as he butteredhis muffin. 

'Why, dear Mr. Falkirk, you might as well ask me how longgentlemen will wear their present becoming style of head-dress! I don't know. '

'I gather that it would not be safe to order post-horses fordeparture. The question remains: would it be safe to orderother horses for the stable at home? One or the other thing itis absolutely necessary to do. '

'The other horses, sir, by all means. And especially my ponycarriage. '

'I shall have to have one built to order, ' remarked Mr. Falkirk, after the pause of half an egg. 

'And have it lined with blue--to set me off. '

'With a dickey behind--to set me on. '

'No, indeed! I'll have Dingee for an outrider, and then we'llbe a complete set of Brownies. You must order quick-footedhorses for me, Mr. Falkirk--I may be reduced to the fate of theCalmuck girls. '

A single dark flash was in Mr. Falkirk's glance; but he onlysaid: 'Who is to have the first race, my dear?'

'Mr. Falkirk, you should rather be anxious as to who will havethe last. But get me a fast horse, sir, and let me practise'--and flitting away from the table and about the room Miss Hazelsang--

' "The lady stude on the castle wa', "Beheld baith date and down;"Then she was ware of a host of men"Came ryding towards the town. "O see ye not, my merry men a', "O see ye not what I see?"Methinks I see a host of men:"I marvel wha' they be. " '

And thereupon, finding she had suddenly come rather close tothe subject, Miss Hazel dashed out of the room. 

The day proved warm. The air, losing its morning dew andfreshness, moved listlessly about among the leaves; the skylooked glassy; the cattle stood panting in the shade, ormused, ankle deep, in the brooks; only the birds werestirring. 

With thought and action as elastic as theirs, the youngmistress of Chickaree prepared for her visit to the poorwoman; afraid neither of the hot sunbeams nor of certain whiteundulations of cloud that just broke the line of the westernhorizon. Mr. Falkirk had walked down to his cottage; there wasno one to counsel or hinder. And over the horses there wassmall consultation needed; the only two nags found being ayoung vixen of a black colt, and an intensely sedate horse ofno particular colour which Mrs. Bywank was accustomed to driveto church. Relinquishing this respectable creature to Dingee, Wych Hazel perched herself upon Vixen and set forth; walkingthe colt now to keep by her little guide, but promisingherself a good trot on the way home. 

The child had come to show her the way, and went in ashuffling amble by the side of the colt's black legs. For agood while they kept the road which had been travelledyesterday; at last turned off to another which presentlybecame pleasantly shady. Woods closed it in, made it ratherlonely in fact, but nobody thought now of anything but thegrateful change. There were clouds which might hide the sun byand by, but just now he was powerful and they were onlylifting their white heads stealthily in the west. At a roughstile, beyond which a foot track led deeper into the wood, thegirl stopped. 

'It's in here, ' she said. 

It was very clear that Vixen could not cross the stile. So heryoung rider dismounted and looping up the heavy folds of herriding skirt as best she might, disappeared from the eyes ofDingee among the trees. Her dress was a pretty enough dressafter all, for though the skirts were dark and heavy, thewhite dimity jacket was all airiness and ruffles; and oncefairly in the shade of the trees, Wych Hazel let her ridinghat fall back and rest on her shoulders in very childishfashion indeed. Her little guide trotted on before her; tillthey saw the house they had come for. 

It was a place of shiftless poverty; of need, no doubt, butnot of industry; Wych Hazel was humbly begged to supplydeficiencies which ought not to have been. Inexperienced asshe was, she scarcely understood it. Nevertheless she was gladwhen the visit was over and she could step out of the dooragain. The clouds had not hid the sun yet, and she wentlightly on through the trees, singing to herself according tocustom, till she was near the stile; then she was 'ware' ofsomebody approaching and the singing ceased. The glance whichshowed her a stranger revealed also what made her glance againas they drew nearer; it was a person of uncommonly goodexterior and fine bearing. A third glance would not have beengiven, but that, as they came close, Wych Hazel received thehomage of a very profound and courteous salutation, and thegentleman, presenting a branch of white roses, said withsufficient deference, 'Earth, must offer tribute!--and cannot, without hands--'

And then passed swiftly on. Amused, startled, Wych Hazel alsoquickened her step; wondering to herself what sort of countryshe had fallen upon. It was ridiculously like a fairy tale, this whole afternoon's work. The little barefooted guide, thesick woman with her 'young goodness' and 'your ladyship, ' nowthis upstarting knight. There were the roses in her hand, too, as much like the famed spray gathered by the merchant in'Beauty and the Beast, ' as mortal roses could be! But theadventure was not over. As she reached the stile she heard thesame voice beside her again. The stranger held her ridingwhip, which Wych Hazel had left behind her at the cottage; thelittle girl had met him, bringing it, he said. And then hewent on--'It is impossible not to know that I am speaking toMiss Kennedy. I am a stranger in the country, but my aunt, Mme. Lasalle, is well known to Mr. Falkirk. Will Miss Kennedyallow me to assist her in remounting?'

It was gracefully said, with quietly modulated tones thatbelong only to a high grade of society, and the speaker had ahandsome face and good presence. Nevertheless, Wych Hazel hadno mind to be 'remounted' by any one, and was very near sayingas much; for in her, 'temperament' retarded the progress ofconventionalism sadly. As it was, she gave him a hesitatingassent, and received his proffered assistance. Then liftinghis hat, he stood while she passed on. 

It was time to ride, for the sky was dark with clouds, the airbreathless, and sharp growls of thunder spoke in the distance, at every one of which Vixen made an uneasy motion of ears andhead, to show what she would do when they came nearer. 

'We must ride for it, Dingee, '--Miss Hazel said to her darkattendant. 

'Reckon we'll get it, too, Miss Hazel, ' was Dingee's reply, and a heavy drop or two said 'yes, it is coming. ' Wych Hazellaughed at him, cantering along on her black pony like a brownsprite, the rising wind making free with her hair and hatribbands, the rose spray made fast for her buttonhole. But asshe dashed out of the woods upon a tract of open country, thedistance before her was one sheet of grey rain and mist, and anear peal of thunder that almost took Vixen off her feet, showed what it would be to face such a storm, so mounted. Andnow the raindrops began to patter near at hand. 

But where to go? She had passed no place of refuge in thewoodland, and before her the storm hid every thing from sight. So, after a second's thought, Wych Hazel turned and flew downa side road a half a mile to the very door of a low stonehouse, the first she had seen, sprang off her frightened pony, and darted into the open hall door, leaving Dingee to findshelter for himself and his charge. Then she began to wonderwhere she was, and what the people would say to her; at firstshe had been only glad to get off Vixen's back, the pony hadjumped and reared at such a rate for the last five minutes. 

In the hall, which at a glance she saw was square and wide, and felt was flagged with stone, stood a large packing case;and about it and so busy with it that for a second they didnot observe her, were a girl and young man, the latterknocking off boards and drawing out nails with his hammer, while the other hovered over the work and watched itabsorbedly. In a moment more they both looked up. The hammerwent down and with a face of illumination Rollo came forward. 

'Why here she is!' he exclaimed gayly, 'dropped into ourhands! and as wet as if she had fallen from the cloudsliterally. Here Rosy, carry off this lady to your domains. This is Primrose Maryland, Miss Kennedy. '

A primrose she evidently was, sweet and good and fresh likeone, with something of a flower's gravity, too. That could beseen at a glance; also that she was rather a little person, though full and plump in figure, and hardly pretty, at leastin contrast with her brilliant neighbour. Wych Hazel's firstwords were of unbounded surprise. 

'From what possible part of the clouds did you fall, Mr. Rollo!'--then with a blush and a look of apology to MissMaryland, 'I ought to excuse myself; I didn't know where I wascoming. And my horse quite refused to stand upon more than twofeet at once, I found the storm uncomfortable--and so jumpedoff and ran in. It's the fault of your door for being open, Miss Maryland!'

'I am very glad, ' said Primrose simply. 'The door stood openbecause it was so hot. We were going to see you this afternoonbut the storm hindered us. Now, will you come up-stairs andget on something dry?'

CHAPTER XII. 

AT DR. MARYLAND'S. 

They went up a low staircase and along a gallery to Primrose'sroom. Large and low, as nice as wax, and as plain. How unlikeany room at Chickaree, Wych Hazel could not help feeling, while its little mistress was opening cupboards and drawers, and getting out the neatest and whitest of cambric jackets andruffles and petticoats, and bringing forth all accommodationsof combs and brushes. Meanwhile Wych Hazel could not helpseeing some of the tokens about the place that told what kindof life was lived there. Its spotlessly neat and orderlycondition was one token; but there were signs of business. Work-baskets, with what seemed fulness of work, were about theroom; books, not in great numbers, but lying in littlebusiness piles, with business covers and the marks of use. Papers were on one table by the window, with pen and ink andpencil and cards. And everywhere a simplicity that showed noatom of needless expenditure. Very unlike Chickaree?

Primrose the while was neat-handedly helping to array herguest in fresh apparel. She had pretty little hands, and theywere quick and skilful; and as she stooped to try on a slipperor manage a fastening, Wych Hazel had a view of a beautifulhead of fair brown hair, in quiet arrangement that did notshow all its beauty; and when from time to time the eyes werelifted, she saw that they were very good eyes; as reposeful asa mountain tarn, and as deep too, where lay thought shadows aswell as sunshine. They were shining eyes now, with secretadmiration and pleasure and good will and eager interest. 

'Are you come to stay a good while at Chickaree? I hope youwill. '

'Maybe--perhaps. O my boots are not wet, Miss Maryland, --and Idon't think I caught enough raindrops to hurt. How kind youare!--And how well your brother describes you. '

'Arthur?--I wish he would not describe me. Chickaree is such abeautiful place, I should think one might like to stay there. I have been hoping about it, ever since I heard you werecoming. Father knows Mr. Falkirk, and used to know your fatherand mother, so well, that I have almost felt as if I knewyou, --till I saw you. '

'And you don't feel so now?' with a shade of disappointment. 

'No, ' said Primrose laughing. 'But I am sure I shall verysoon, if you will let me. I have wished for it so much! There, won't that do? It is lucky I had some of Prue's things here--mine are too short. Prue is my sister. It looks very nice, Ithink. '

'O yes, ' her guest answered, taking up her bunch of roses, fresh with the rain. 'Thank you very much! But why do you saythat about your brother?'

'Arthur?--O--descriptions never tell the truth. '

'I am sure he did, ' said Wych Hazel. 'And I know I would giveanything to have anybody to talk so about me. '

Primrose returned a somewhat earnest and wondering look at hernew friend; then took her hand to lead her down stairs. 

In the hall they found Mr. Rollo; not by his packing caseexactly, for he had taken that to pieces, and the contentsstood fair to view; a very handsome new sewing machine. Surrounded with bits of board and litter, he stood examiningthe works and removing dust and bits of paper and string. Overthe litter sprang to his side Primrose and laid her handsilently in his, and with downcast eyes stood still looking atthe machine. The bright eyes under their lids spoke as muchjoy as Rosy's face often showed; yet she was perfectly still. 

'Well?' said Rollo, squeezing the little hand and lookinglaughingly down at her. 

'You are so good!'

'You don't think it, ' said he. 'You know better; and as youalways speak perfect truth, I am surprised to hear you. '

'You are good to me, ' said Primrose in a low tone. 

'I should be a pleasant fellow if I wasn't, ' said he stoopingto kiss her, at which the flush of pleasure on Rosy's cheekdeepened; 'but in the meantime it is proper we should lookafter the comfort of our prisoner. ' Then stepping across thelitter to where Wych Hazel stood, he went on--'You know, ofcourse, that you stand in that relation to us, Miss Kennedy?Primrose is turnkey, and I am governor. Would you like to seethe inside of the jail?'

The 'prisoner' had stood still in grave wonderment at peopleand things generally; especially at the footing Mr. Rolloseemed to have in this house. 

'Governor to a steam engine is an easier post, ' she said, throwing off her thoughts. 

'I have been that'--he said, as he led her into a room on theright of the hall. 

This room took in the whole depth of the house, having windowson three sides; low, deep windows, looking green, for theblinds were drawn together. The ceiling was low, too; and fromfloor to ceiling, everywhere except where a door or windowbroke the space, the walls were lined with books. There washere no more than up stairs evidence of needless money outlay;the furniture was chintz covered, the table-covers were plain. But easy chairs were plenty; the tables bore writing-materialsand drawing-materials and sewing-materials; and books layabout, open from late handling; and a portfolio of engravingsstood in a corner. Rollo put his charge in an easy chair, andthen went from window to window throwing open the blinds. Thewindows opened upon green things, trees and flowers and vines;the air came in fresher; the rain was softly falling fast andthick, and yet the pale light cheered up the whole placewonderfully. 

'Your windows are all shut, Rosy!' said Rollo as he went fromone to the other--'is that the way you live? You must keep themopen now I am come home!'

'It was so hot, '--said the voice of Rosy from the hall. 

'Hot? that is the very reason. What are you about? Rosy!--'

He went to the door, and then from where she sat Wych Hazelcould see the prompt handling which Rosy's endeavours to putaway the disorder received. She was taken off from picking upnails, and dismissed into the library; while Rollo himself setdiligently about gathering together his boards and rubbish. Primrose came in smiling. 

'It is better with the windows open, ' she said; 'but I was sobusy this morning I believe I forgot. And father never comesinto this room till evening. How it rains! I am so glad!'

And taking a piece of work from a basket, she placed herselfnear Wych Hazel and began to sew. It was a pretty homepicture, such as Wych Hazel--in her school life and ward life--had seen few. Just why it made her feel quiet she could nothave told. Yet the brown eyes went somewhat gravely fromPrimrose at her work to the hall where Rollo felt so much athome--then round the room and towards the window, watching therain. 

'Won't you give me some work?' she asked suddenly. 

'O talk!' said Primrose, looking up. 'Don't work. '

'It takes more than work to stop my mouth, ' said Wych Hazel, 'Ah, I can work, though you don't believe it, Miss Rosy; doplease give me that ruffle--or a handkerchief, --don't you wantsome marked? I can embroider like any German. '

Primrose doubted her powers of sewing and talking both atonce; but finally supplied her with an immense white cravat tohem, destined for the comfort of Dr. Maryland's throat; andworking and chatting did go on very steadily for some timethereafter, both girls being intent on each other at least, ifnot on the hemming, till Rollo came back. He interrupted thecourse of things. 

'Now, ' said Rollo, 'I am going to ask you first, Primrose--areyou setting about to make Miss Kennedy as busy as yourself?'

'I wish I could, you know, ' said Primrose, half smiling, halfwistfully. 

'And I want to know from you, Miss Kennedy, where Mr. Falkirkis this afternoon?'

'In the depths of a nap, I suppose. Is the rain slackening, Mr. Rollo?'

'What do you think?'--as with a fresher puff of wind the rushof the raindrops to the earth seemed to be more hurried andfurious. Wych Hazel listened, but did not speak her thoughts. Rollo considered her a little, and then drew up the portfoliostand and began to undo the fastenings of the portfolio. 

'Do you like this sort of thing?'

'Very much. O I don't care a great deal about them asengravings, I suppose; but I like to study the faces andpuzzle over the lives. '

'This collection is nothing remarkable as a collection--but itmay serve your purpose, perhaps. ' He set up a large, rathercoarse print of Fortitude, by Sir Joshua Reynolds. The figurestands erect, armed with a helmet and plume, one hand on herhip, the other touching just the tip of one finger to a brokencolumn by her side. At her feet a couchant lion. 

'Looking at that, not as an engraving, which wouldn't beprofitable, what do you see?'

'I was trying to think whether she was Mr. Falkirk's ideal, 'said Wych Hazel, after a somewhat prolonged study of theengraving. 'She is not mine. '

'Why not?'

'Yes, she isn't mine, ' said Primrose. 'Why not, Miss Kennedy?'

'Mr. Falkirk always says, "My dear, be a woman and be brave!"--But I think she fails on both points. '

'I don't understand, ' said Primrose, while Rollo's smile grewamused. 'I don't quite understand you, Miss Kennedy. She looksbrave to me. '

'No, she don't, ' said Wych Hazel decidedly; 'anybody can stickon a helmet. What is that half asleep lion for, Mr. Rollo?'

'He isn't half asleep!' said Primrose. 'He looks very grimlyenduring. But I agree with Miss Kennedy, that Fortitude shouldnot wear a helmet, with a plume in it, too! She is quite asapt to be found under a sun-bonnet, I think. '

'Bravo, Prim!' said Rollo. 

'And she ought to have her hands crossed. '

'Crossed?' said Wych Hazel. 

'Yes, I think so. '

'This fashion?' said the girl folding her tiny hands acrossher breast. 'They would not stay there two seconds, if _I_ wasenduring anything. '

Rosy crossed her own hands after another fashion, and wassilent. 

'How do you generally hold your hands when you are enduringanything?' Rollo asked the other speaker demurely. 

'Ah, now you are laughing at me!' she said. 'But I don't thinkI quite understand passive, inactive fortitude. I like Niobe'sarms, all wrapped about her child, --do you remember?'

'I remember. But you don't call _that_ fortitude, do you?'

'Yes, ' said Wych Hazel. 'She was dying by inches, --and yet herarms look, so strong! I am sure she didn't know whether theywere crossed or uncrossed. '

'Do you think that lion there in the corner looks like Mr. Falkirk?'

'No, indeed! Mr. Falkirk would take a good deal more notice ofme, if _I_ was balancing myself on one finger, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'What _is_ that one finger for?' said Primrose. 

'Do you ask that, Rosy? To show that she has nothing earthlyto lean upon. She just touches the pillar, as much as to sayit is broken and of no use to her. Perhaps her confidence isin that slumbering lion, --Is that another representation offortitude?'

He had hid Sir Joshua's picture with an engraving ofDelaroche's Marie Antoinette leaving the Tribunal. 

'She knew what it meant, I should think, if anybody did. Butmost fortitude--real fortitude--be always unhappy?' said Hazellooking perplexedly at the picture. 

Rollo turned back to the Reynolds. 'You were both wrong aboutthis, ' said he; 'at least I think so. Real fortitude _does_figuratively, go helmeted and plumed. She endures so perfectlythat she does not seem to endure. In this representation thelion shows you the mental condition which lies hid behind thatfair, stern front. Now is Marie Antoinette like that?' Heturned the pictures again. 

'I cannot tell!' said Wych Hazel. 'One minute her fortitudelooks just like pride, --and then when you remember all she hadto bear, it's not strange if she called up pride to help her. But it is not my ideal yet. '

'I think it _is_ pride, ' said Rollo. 'So it looks to me. Prideand grief facing down death and humiliation. Marie Theresa'sdaughter and Louis Capet's queen acknowledging no degradationbefore her enemies--giving them no triumph that she could help. But that is not my ideal either. '

He brought out another print. 

'I always like that, ' said Primrose. 

'I do not know it, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'Don't you? it is very common. It is the eve of St. Bartholomew. This Catholic girl wants to tie a white favourround he lover's arm, to save him from the massacre soon tobegin. She has had the misfortune to love a Huguenot. Whitefavours, you remember, were the mark by which the Catholicswere to know each other in the confusion. '

'And he will not let her. Was it a misfortune, I wonder?'

'What?' said Primrose. 

'To love somebody so much nobler than herself. How gentle heis in his earnestness!'

'Don't be hard upon her, ' said Rollo. 'Are you sure youwouldn't do so in her place?'

'No, --' she said, looking gravely up at him. 

'She knew it was death to go without that white handkerchief. '

'But, ' said Primrose softly, 'wouldn't you rather have him dietrue, than live dishonoured?'

'I think I should have tried, ' said Wych Hazel, --'knowing Ishould fail. And then I should have thrown away my own favour, and gone with him wherever he went. '

'He wouldn't have let you do that either, ' said Rollo. 

'Then he would not have loved me as I loved him, ' said thegirl, very decidedly. 

'He'd have been a pretty fellow!' said Rollo, as he turned thenext print. It was a contrast to the St. Bartholomew; aMadonna and child, from Fra Bartholomeo, at which they wereall content to look silently. Rollo began to talk, then, instead of asking questions, and made himself veryinteresting. So much he knew of art matters, so many a storyand legend he could tell about the masters, and so well hecould help the less initiated to enjoy and understand thework. So letting himself out in a sort of play-fashion, theportfolio proved the nucleus of a delightful hour'sentertainment. At the end of that time a turn was given tothings by the coming in of an old black woman with a veryhigh, coloured turban on her head and a teakettle and achafing dish of coals in her hands. Rollo shut up hisportfolio. 

'What is your view, practically, of things at present, MissKennedy?'

'Mr. Falkirk says I never took a practical view of things inmy life, Mr. Rollo. The impracticable view seems to be, thatit is tea time and I ought to go home. '

'What do you think of the plan of letting Mr. Falkirk knowwhere you are?'

'Yes, I ought to do that, ' said his ward, 'Where is Dingee?--Iwill send him right off. '

'Will you write, or shall I?' said Rollo, drawing out paperand pen ready on one of the tables. 

She glanced at him as if in momentary wonder that he shouldoffer to write her despatch, then ran off the most summarylittle note, twisted it into a knot of complications, andagain asked for Dingee. Rollo gently but saucily put his ownfingers upon the twisted note and bore it away. 

The business of the tea-making and preparing was going on; andboth Primrose and her old assistant bustled about the teatable, getting things ready and Dr. Maryland's chair in itsright place. A quiet bustle, very pleasant in the eyes of WychHazel, with all its homely and sweet meanings. The light hadsoftened a little, and still came through a grey veil of rain;odours of rose and sweet-briar and evening primroses floatedin on the warm, moist air, and mingled with the steam of thetea-kettle and the fume in the chafing-dish; and the patter, patter of rain drops, and the dash of wet leaves against eachother, were a foil to the tea-kettle's song. Wych Hazel lookedon, musingly, till Rollo came back and took her round the roomlooking at books. Then offering her his arm, he somewhatsuddenly brought her face to face with some one just enteringby the door. 

An old gentleman; Wych Hazel knew at once who it must be. Middle-sized, stout, with rather thin locks of white hair, anda face not otherwise remarkable than for its look of habitualhigh thought and pure goodness. It took but a moment to see somuch of him. She stopped short, and then came close up to him. 

'Is this your charge, Dane? Is this little Wych Hazel?' hewent on more tenderly, and folding her in his arms. 'My dear, 'he said, kissing her brow, 'I hope you will be as good a womanas your mother was! I am very glad to see you!--very gladindeed!'

She did not answer at first, looking up into his face with awistful, searching look that was a little eager; standingquite still, as if the enclosing arms were very pleasant toher. 

'Yes sir, ' she said, 'I am Wych Hazel. But why are you glad tosee me?'

'My dear, I knew your mother and father; and I have a greatinterest in you. I am told you will be queen of a large courtup yonder at Chickaree. '

She laughed a little, and coloured, looking down, then backinto his face again. 

'Will you like me, sir, all you can?'

'All you will give me a chance for. So you must let us see youa great deal; for affection must grow, you know; it cannot becommanded. Sit down, my dear, sit down; Primrose is ready forus. '

It was a right pleasant meal! There was no servant waiting;the little informalities of helping themselves suited wellwith the quiet home ease and the song of the tea-kettle. Primrose made toast for her father, and Rollo blew the coalsto a red heat to hasten the operation. Dr. Maryland sometimestalked and sometimes was silent; and his talk was of anabsolute simplicity that neither knew in his own nor imaginedin other people's minds any reserves of dark corners. Primrosetalked little, but was lovingly watchful not only of herfather, but of Wych Hazel, and Rollo too; who on his part waswatchful enough over everybody. 

'And my dear, ' said Dr. Maryland, 'why did you not bring Mr. Falkirk with you?'

'Well, sir, to begin--I did not know I was coming myself! I wasout riding, and the rain came--and I jumped off into the firstopen door I could see. And then Miss Maryland let me stay. '

'But Mr. Falkirk, my dear--where's he?'

'Safe at home, sir. We have been seeking our fortune together, but to-night we got separated. '

'Mr. Falkirk went back and left you?' said Dr. Maryland, looking surprised. 

'No, sir, I went ahead and left him. That is, ' she added, smothering a laugh, 'he did not set out at all. '

'I thought--I thought, you said you were together?'

'Only in a general way, sir. On all special occasions wedivide. '

'What did you say you were doing? seeking your fortune?'

'I set out to seek mine, ' said Wych Hazel, 'and of course poorMr. Falkirk has to go along to look on. He doesn't help me onebit. '

'To seek your fortune, my dear?' said Dr. Maryland, lookingbenignly curious; 'What sort of a fortune are you lookingfor?'

'Why I don't know, sir. If I knew, --it would be half foundalready, wouldn't it?' said the girl. 

'But my dear--did Mr. Falkirk never tell you that fortunes arenever found ready made?'

'He objected, because he said mine was ready made--but thatmade no difference from my point of view. And then he said hethought our road would "end in a squirrel track, and run up atree. " And do you know, sir, ' said Wych Hazel, the hiddenmerriment flashing out all over her face, 'that was what itreally did!'

'Did what, my dear?'

'I beg your pardon, sir, ' she said, trying to steady her voiceand bring out words instead of a burst of laughter, --'but--thatis a wild Western expression, which Mr. Falkirk used tosignify that we should get into difficulties. '

'Why did Mr. Falkirk think you would get into difficulties?'--Dr. Maryland had not found the scent yet. 

'I don't think he has much opinion of my prudence, sir, --andbelieves firmly that every one who goes off the highway findsrough ground. Now I like a jolt now and then--it wakes one up. '

'Do you want to find rough ground, my dear?'

'I don't mean really rough, sir, in one sense, but uneven--varied, and stirring, and uncommonplace. It seems to me that Ihave a whole set of energies that never come into play uponordinary occasions. I should weary to death of the lives somepeople lead--three meals a day, and a cigar, and a newspaper. Ithink I should fast once a week, for variety--and smoke mycigar wrong end first--if there are two ends to it. '

'I heard a lady say the other day, that there was no end tothem, '--observed Rollo. 

Dr. Maryland looked at her on his part, smiling, and quiteawake now to the matter in hand. Yet he was silent a minutebefore speaking. 

'Have you laid your plan, my dear? I should very much like toknow what it is!'

'No, sir, ' she said, shaking her head with a deprecatorylittle laugh. 'Of course I have not! People in fairy talesnever do. '

'Life is not a fairy tale, Hazel, ' said Dr. Maryland, shakinghis head a little. 'My dear, you are a real woman. Did youever think what you would try to do in the world?--what youwould try to do with your life, I mean?'

'Do with it?' the girl repeated, her brown eyes on theDoctor's face as if looking for his meaning. 'I think, Ishould like to enjoy it, if I could. And it has been verycommonplace, lately, sir. Mr. Falkirk don't pet me and playwith me as he used to--and he won't let me play with him; notmuch. '

The smile which quivered on Dr. Maryland's face changed andpassed into a sort of sweet gravity. 

'There is one capital way to get out of commonplace, ' he said;'but it isn't play, my dear. If you set about doing what Godwould have you to do with yourself, there will be no dullnessin your life, and no lack of enjoyment, either. '

She looked at him again--then down; but made no answer. 

'Somebody has written an essay, that I read lately, ' Dr. Maryland went on--'an essay on the monotony of piety. Poor man!he did not know what he was talking about. The gloriousliberty of the children of God!--that was something beyond hisexperience;--and the joy of their service. It is what redeemseverything else from monotony. It glorifies what isinsignificant, and dignifies what is mean, and lifts what islow, and turns the poor little business steps of every dayinto rounds of Heaven's golden ladder. I verily think I couldhave hanged myself long ago, for the very monotony of allthings else, if it had not been for the life and glory ofreligion!'

'Why papa!' said Primrose. 

'I would, my dear, I do think. ' He was silent a moment; thensubsiding from the excited fire with which he had spoken, heturned to Wych Hazel and went on gently, --

'What else do you want to do, my dear, that is not to be donein that track? you want adventures?'

'Yes, sir, ' she answered, without looking up, half hesitating, a little grave. 'I think I do. And more people about, --peopleto love me, and that I can love. Of course I love Mr. Falkirk, ' she added, correcting herself, 'very much; but thatis different. And there's nobody else but the servants. '

'O do come here!' cried Primrose; 'and love us. '

'I do not wonder Mr. Falkirk gives no help, ' said Rollo, alittle quizzically. 

'Will you try Primrose's expedient, my dear?' said Dr. Maryland, very benignly. 'Half your requisition you willcertainly find. Whether you can love us, I don't know; butthere's no knowing without trying. '

She gave one of her sweet childish looks of answer to both thefirst and last speaker; but Mr. Rollo was favoured with asmall reproof. 

'You must not speak so of Mr. Falkirk, ' she said. 'He has beenthe kindest possible friend to me. And I think he loves mewonderfully, considering how I have tried his patience. Justthink what it is for a grave, quiet, grown-up, sensible man, to have the plague of a girl like me! Very few men would standit at all, Mr. Roll; but Mr. Falkirk never said a rough wordto me in his life. '

She was so grave, so innocent, so ignorant in it all, theeffect was indescribably funny. 

'I should think very few men would stand it, ' said Rollo, composedly; but Primrose and her father smiled. 

'Mr. Falkirk is an admirable man, ' said Dr. Maryland. 'You area good witness for him, Hazel. '

'If I would only do all he wants me to!' she said with aslight shake of the head. 'But I cannot, and he says I don'tknow what I want. But Dr. Maryland--all the nice, proper peopleI have ever seen, live on such a dead level--it would kill me. They think dancing is wrong, and Italian a loss of time, and"it's a pity to waste my young years upon German. " And theycan't talk of a book, but some life of a missionary who waseaten by cannibals, --I was very sorry he went there, to besure, but that didn't make me want to hear about it, nor to gomyself. They are just like peach trees trimmed up and nailedto a wall, and I'd rather be wild Wych Hazel in the woods, though it's of no sort of use, and nobody cares for it!' Dr. Maryland might guess from this frank out-pouring, how seldomit was that the stream of young thoughts found such an exit, how complete was the trust which called it forth. She hadquite forgotten her tea. And the doctor forgot his; and benthis gray head towards her brown one. 

'But suppose, my dear, ' (how different this from Mr. Falkirk's'my dear, ')--'suppose the bush were a conscious thing; andsuppose that while it remained in the woods and remainedentirely itself, it could yet by being submitted to some sweetinfluence be made so fragrant that its influence should beknown all through the forest; and its nuts, instead of beingwild, useless things, should every one of them bring a gift ofhealing or of life to the hands that should gather them? Iwould rather it should stay in the woods;--and I never thinkanything trained against a wall is as good as that which hasthe sun all round it. '

Wych Hazel looked at him with no sort of doubt in her eyesthat he had been "submitted to some sweet influence. " Andperhaps it was the image he had drawn, that brought a littletremour round her lips, as she answered:

'I do not want to be a wild, bitter, useless thing, --maybe thatis what Mr. Falkirk is afraid of, too. '

'I believe, ' said Dr. Maryland, 'that He who made all thevarieties in the world, and made men as various, never meantthat one should take the form or place of another. If it fillsits own, and fills it perfectly, it glorifies Him; and doesjust what it was meant to do. '

'Not to mention the fact, ' said Rollo, 'that Wych Hazel couldnot conveniently personate a pine tree or Primrose ablackthorn. '

But at the entrance of this gentleman as Privy Counsellor, Wych Hazel withdrew her affairs from public notice; howevermuch inclined to vindicate her power of personating what sheliked, especially pine trees. She dropped the subject and tookup her bread and butter. And so did Dr. Maryland, for a while;but he eat thoughtfully. There was a pause, during whichPrimrose was affectionately solicitous over Wych Hazel's cupof tea, and Rollo piled strawberries upon her plate. Tea hadbeen rather neglected. 

'And what have you been doing, Hazel, all these past twelveyears?' said the doctor, breaking out afresh. 'Twelve years!--it is twelve years. What have you done with them, my dear?'

'I was at school, you know, sir, for a while, and then I hadno end of tutors and teachers at home. ' She drew a longbreath. 

'And what are you going to do with the next twelve years?--ifyou should live so long. What are you going to try to do withthem, I mean?'

'I want to try to have a good time, sir. '

'And you will be a queen, and hold your court at Chickaree?'

She laughed--her pretty, free laugh of pleasure. 

'So Mr. Falkirk says. Only he does not call me a queen--hecalls me a mouse!'

Dr. Maryland laughed too, at her or with her, a rare thing forhim, but returned to his grave tenderness of look and tone. 'Ah, little Hazel, ' he said, 'you are in a dangerous place, mychild, with your court up there. Do you know, that when youand the world you want to see, come together, --either you willchange it, or it will change you?--that is why I asked you whatyou were going to do with the next twelve years. That was agreat word of Paul, when his years were almost over, --"I havefought a good fight; I have kept the faith. Henceforth thereis laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge shall give me at that day!" '

He was silent, but so grave, so sweet, so rapt, had been thetone of the last words, that they all kept silence likewise. Dr. Maryland's head fell, he seemed to be seeing something notbefore him; presently he went on speaking to himself. 

' "And not to me only, --but to all them that love hisappearing. "--My dear, ' suddenly to Wych Hazel, --'will you lovehis appearing, when it comes?'

She?--how could she tell? to whom not only the question butalmost the very thought were new. He did not pursue thatsubject. Presently he left the table and stood up, or walkedup and down behind it; while under the sense of his talk andhis thought and his presence, they were all quiet; finishingtheir supper as docilely as so many children. And a reflectionfrom him was on all their faces, making each one more pure andbright than its own wont. 

He stayed with the young people after tea, instead of going tohis study; and the evening was full of grave interest, whichalso no one wished less grave. He talked much, sometimes withWych Hazel, sometimes with Rollo; and Rollo was very amusingand interesting in meeting his inquiries and remarks aboutGerman universities and university life. The talk flowed on toother people and things abroad, where Rollo had for some yearslately been. The doctor grew animated and drew him out, andevery now and then drew Wych Hazel in, giving her much of hisattention and perhaps scrutiny also, though that was veiled. 

The talk kept them up late. As they were about separating forthe night Rollo asked Wych Hazel if she had found any cats atChickaree?

'What do you mean?' she said quickly. 'O--I remember'--and thelight danced over her face. 'I haven't had much time to findanything. What did you do with my poor kitten up on themountain, Mr. Rollo?'

'I was going to ask you whether you would like to see an oldfriend. '

'Yes, to be sure. You do not mean that my little pussy ishere?'

'You shall have her to-morrow. '

CHAPTER XIII. 

THE GREY COB. 

Morning has come, and the Queen of Chickaree must return tohold her court. Little guesses the Queen what a court isgathering for her. While she is quietly eating her breakfastat Dr. Maryland's, Mme. Lasalle is ordering her horses, tomake a call upon her in the course of the morning, and Mr. Kingsland is thinking in what cravat he shall adorn himselfwhen he goes to do the same thing in the afternoon. For Mr. Kingsland has arrived at home, where he and his old fatherkeep a bachelor sort of household in a decayed old house atone extremity of Crocus. They have a respectable name, folkssay, but not wealth to set it off; and the household is small. The same little boy who rubs down Mr. Kingsland's horse waitsupon table, and there is nobody else but a housekeeper. ButMr. Morton is thinking he will call too; and Mr. Morton is aman of means; he owns a large part of Mill Hollow, called alsoMorton Hollow. He occupies a great old brick house in theneighbourhood of the Hollow, and keeps it in excellent repair, and the grass of the lawn is well shaven. Mr. Morton is welloff and has servants enough, but he has years enough too; Mr. Morton must be forty. Nevertheless he thinks he will call. 

Then there is Mrs. Ex-Governor Powder also; she lives in avery good house, and in an irreproachable manner, at a fineplace called Valley Garden, ten miles off. Mrs. Powder is anexcellent woman, a stately lady, knows what is what, and hasbeen a beauty, and held a court of her own. Indeed she is of aproud old family, and married a little beneath her when shemarried the man who afterwards became Governor Powder. Butwhat would you have? Women must be married. Mrs. Powder willcome to see Miss Kennedy; she is thinking about it; butprobably she will not come till to-morrow or the day after;she is not in a hurry. Mme. Lasalle is; and so is thegentleman of the roses, her nephew. Meanwhile Miss Kennedyknows nothing of all this, nor how furthermore the Lawyer'swife and the Doctor's mother (for there is another doctor atCrocus) are meditating how soon they may ask Miss Kennedy todinner or to supper, and how soon it will do to go and askher. They are afraid of seeming in a hurry. Meanwhile MissKennedy eats her breakfast. 

Breakfast is had in the stone hall, with the doors open frontand rear and the Summer day looking in at them. It is verypleasant, and the old black woman, Portia, comes and goeswithout interfering with the talk at table. The sewing machinestands at one side of the hall still. 

'What new affair have you got there, my daughter?' says thedoctor. 

'It's a sewing machine, papa, which Duke has brought me. '

'A sewing machine! What are you going to do with it?'

'Put her work in her pocket, I hope, sir. I am tired of seeingit in her hand. '

'It is very good of you, Duke; but can she manage it?'

'Not yet, sir. Neither of us can. We are going to find out. '

'Well, what's the advantage of it?'

'I brought it up, sir, in the hope and persuasion that itwould undertake the clothing of all the poor people at Crocus, and give Rosy time to read philosophy. '

'Why papa, ' said Rosy, 'it will do fifteen hundred stitches aminute!'

'You don't want to do more than that in a day, do you, mydear?' said the doctor, with an expression of such innocentamazement, not without some dismay, that they all burst outlaughing; and Dr. Maryland but half enlightened, went off tohis study. 

Much before Primrose wished it, the horses came to the door. Rollo had had his own saddle put upon Vixen, and the grey cobstood charged with the paraphernalia which should accompanythe mistress of Chickaree. She had gone up to prepare for herride, and now came to the front in habit and gauntlets andwhip, the rose branch at her button-hole. 

'O, ' she said in tones so like a bird that the groom mighthave been pardoned for looking up into the maple boughs overhis head to find her; 'you have made a mistake! The otherhorse is the one I ride. Will you change the saddles, please?--I am sorry to give you the trouble!'

The groom would have been in great bewilderment, but thatluckily his master stood there too. The man's look of appealwas comical, going from one to another. Rollo was looking atgirths and buckles, and did not seem to hear. Wych Hazelwaited--a slight growing doubt on the subject of his deafnessnot increasing the pliability of her mood. Then he cametowards her, and asked if she was ready?

'I am--but my horse is not. '

'What is the matter with him?'

'I am very sorry to make any delay, Mr. Rollo, but the saddleswill have to be changed. I can't ride that grey horse!' Andshe slipped her hat back and sat down on the doorstep, toawait the process. 

'There is no mistake, ' said Rollo. 'The horses were saddled bymy order. I told him to give you the grey. You will forgiveme, I hope!'

'Without asking me!' she said, giving him a rather wide-openlook of her eyes, and then in a tone as cool as his own--

'I shall ride Vixen, Mr. Rollo, if I ride at all. '

'I hope you will reconsider that. '

'Mr. Rollo, ' she said in her gravest manner, 'you and I seemfated to see something of each other--so it will save troublefor you to know at once, that when I say a thing seriously, Imean it. '

He lifted his hat with the old stately air. But then he smiledat her. 

'Allow me to believe that you have said nothing seriously thismorning?'

Now if Wych Hazel's mood was not pliable, his was the sort oflook to make it so. A calmly good-humoured brow, with a clearkeen eye, and in both all that character of firm strength towhich a woman's temper is apt to give way. If it had been aquestion of temper in the ordinary sense. But the lady ofChickaree had nothing of the sort belonging to her that wasnot as sweet as a rose. 

'Allow me!' she said, just a little bit mockingly. 'Well--it'snot true, if you do believe it. I shall ride Vixen, or walk. '

'That would be very serious, ' said Rollo, 'for it is going tobe very hot. What is the matter with the grey cob?'

'I don't like him--and I do like Vixen. '

'Have you ever ridden him?'

'No. And nothing in his appearance predicts that I evershall. '

'I do not think that Vixen is fit for you to mount. I am goingto find out. If she is you shall have her. '

'You can study her as much as you please, with me on her. Why, what nonsense!--as if I didn't ride her all yesterdayafternoon!'

'And gave us, if you recollect, afterwards, ' said Rollo, looking amused, 'the synopsis of her character. '

'And now you think I am giving you the synopsis of mine, ' saidWych Hazel. 'Well, Mr. Rollo, of course your groom will notmind me--will you order the saddles changed? or must I walk?'

'I shall not order the saddles changed. I am afraid. That isno reason why you should be. Fear may be commendable in a man, when it is not desirable in a woman. '

'But I cannot be bothered with anybody's fear but my own!'

He faced her with the same bright, grave face he had worn allalong. 'I owe it to Mr. Falkirk to carry you back safe andsound. '

She laughed--her pretty mouth in a curl of fun. 

'Ah, ' she said, 'before you deal extensively with self-willedwomen, you need to study the subject! I see the case ishopeless. If you had presented it right end first, Mr. Rollo, I cannot tell what I might have said, but as it is, I can onlywalk. '

She turned quick about towards Primrose, pulling her hat backinto its place; which hat, being ill disposed, first caught onher comb, and then, disengaged, carried the comb with it, anddown came Miss Hazel's hair about her shoulders. Not in 'wavytresses, ' or 'rippling masses, ' but in good, honest, waywardcurls, and plenty of them, and all her own. The hat had tocome off now, and gloves as well, for both hands had as muchas they could manage. Rollo took the gloves, and held the hat, and waited upon her with grave punctiliousness, while Primroselooked anxious and annoyed. When hair and hat were in orderagain and he had delivered the gloves, Rollo requested to betold by the peremptory little owner of them, 'what was thematter with the right end of the subject, now she had got it?'

'I have not got it. The subject has only been graduallyturning round as I pushed, like a turnstile. Mr. Rollo, Ithink it would do you a great deal of good to be thoroughlythwarted and vexed two or three times--then you would learn howto do things. '

'But, dear Miss Kennedy, ' said Primrose's distressed voice, 'you are not going to try to walk through this heat?'

Wych Hazel turned and wrapped her arms about Primrose. 'Yes, Iam--but I don't think it's hot. And please don't call me "MissKennedy"--your father does not. '

'But it's four or five miles. '

'I've walked more than that, often. Good-bye--will you let--'

Primrose kissed her for answer, but then gave her a troubledwhisper: 'I wish you wouldn't walk. Duke is so sure to beright about the horses. '

'Sure to be right, is he?' said Miss Kennedy. 'Well, I am atleast as sure to be wrong. Good-bye!'

Primrose stood looking, doubtful and uncomfortable, and afraidto say any more. Rollo smiled at her as he was leaving thehouse, looked himself the reverse of uncomfortable, orderedByron to lead the horses, and set out by the side of WychHazel. He was not just in the genial mood of last night andthe morning, but cool and gay, as it was his fashion to be;though gravely and punctiliously attentive to his charge. Cool, that is to say, as the day permitted; for the sun wasfervent, and pouring down his beams with an overwhelminglavishness of bestowment. 

On her part Wych Hazel went quietly on, not with the undueenergy which shows some hidden excitement but with a steadystep and thoughts most abstractedly busy. She made no sort ofremark, unless in answer to her companion, and then with veryquiet look and voice. Her changeful face had settled into adepth of soberness. Perhaps it was because of noticing thisthat his manner grew more gently careful of her; in triflesshown, to be sure, but the touch of a hand and the tone of aword will tell all that as well as much greater things. Evidently he read her and was not angry with her; not eventhough the way was long and hot, happily it was not dusty--theshower had laid the dust. With undimmed faces and unsoiledfoot-gear they paced on, rood after rood, and Vixen, droopingher head, followed at their heels. The groom had been sentback with the cob, and Rollo walked with the bridle of Vixenin his hands. Chickaree was reached at last. 

'What do you expect to find here?' said he, as they enteredthe gate and were going up the ascent. 

'Mr. Falkirk. '

'There is much more awaiting you, then, than you expect. Takecare of that acacia branch! See, you must send Dingee, orsomebody--who is your factotum?--down here with pruning tools. If I didn't know what to expect, I would try hard for a sawand do it myself this morning. You have scratched your hand!'

'Never mind--yes, I should have kept on gloves, but it was sowarm. What do you expect, Mr. Rollo, besides luncheon? Youwill stay for that, won't you?' she said shyly, yet with apretty enacting of the hostess. The touch of her own groundmade her feel better. 

'I should have to stay for so many other things, ' he said, looking on the ground as he walked. She glanced at him, notquite sure whether his words covered a negative, and notchoosing to ask. 

'All this while you don't know that there is company atChickaree. '

'Company?--how do you know?'

'I know by the signs. You will find, I think, Mme. Lasalle upthere, and probably a few of her family. '

'Mme. Lasalle!'

By what connection did not appear, but Miss Hazel's fingerswere immediately very busy disengaging the rose branch fromthe button of her habit, where it had hung during the walk. 

'I think that is the prospect. But I do not know that I amunder any obligation to meet her, so I think I shall preferthe company of your vixenish little mare. Not to speak of thechance of encountering Mr. Falkirk, ' said Rollo, lifting hiseyebrows. 'I shouldn't like to stand Mr. Falkirk's shot thismorning!'

'It will hit nobody but me, ' she said, rather soberly. 

'Is he a good marksman?'

'Depends a little on what he aims at, ' said the girl. 'It iseasier, sometimes--as, perhaps, you know--to hit people thanthings. '

'Take care!' said Rollo, again, as another obstacle in thepath presented itself; 'I don't mean anything shall hit youwhile I have the care of you. ' Putting his hands for aninstant on the girl's shoulders, he removed her lightly fromone side of the walk to the other, and then attacked asweeping dogwood branch, which, very lovely but verypersevering, hung just too low. It cost a little trouble todispose of it. 

They were not on the great carriage road, but following one ofthe embowered paths which led through the woods. It wentwinding up, under trees of great beauty, thickset, and now forlong default of mastership, overbearing and encroaching intheir growth. A wild beauty they made, now becoming fastdisorderly and in places rough. The road wound about so muchthat their progress was slow. 

'Chickaree has had no guardian for a good while, ' said Rollo, as they went on. 'Look at that elm! and the ashes beyond it. But don't cut too much, when you cut here; nor let Mr. Falkirk. '

'He shall not cut a branch, and I love the thickets too wellto meddle with them. Unless they actually come in my face. '

'Then you do not love the thickets well enough. Come here, 'said he, drawing her gently to one side, --'stand a little thisway--do you see how that white oak is crowding upon those twoashes? They are suffering already; and in another year itwould be in the way of that beautiful spruce fir. And thewhite oak itself is not worth all that. '

'But if you cut it down there will be a great blank space. Thecrowding is much prettier than that!'

'The blank space in two years' time will be filled again. '

'So soon?' she said doubtfully. Then with one of her halflaughs, --'You see I do not believe pruning and thinning out andreducing to order agrees with everything; and naturally enoughmy sympathies are the other way. I like to see the stiffleaves and the soft leaves all mixed up together; they showbest so. Not standing off in open space--like Mr. Falkirk andme. '

He took her up in the same tone; and for a little more of theway there was a delicious bit of talk. Delicious, because WychHazel had eyes and capacities; and her companion's eyes andcapacities were trained and accomplished. He was at home inthe subject; he brought forward his reading and his seeing forher behoof; recommended Ruskin, and gave her somedisquisitions of his own that Ruskin need not have beenashamed of. For those ten or fifteen minutes he was adifferent man from what Wych Hazel had ever seen him. Then thehouse came in sight, and a new subject claimed theirattention. For the mare, whether scenting her stable orfinding her spirits raised by getting nearer home, abandonedher quiet manner of going, and after a little dancing andpulling her bridle, testified her disapprobation of all sortsof restraint by flinging her heels into the air, and beingobliged to follow her leader, she repeated the amusementcontinuously. 

'Do your drawing-room windows look on the front?' said Rollo. 

'Some of them. Why?'

'Then, by your leave, as I do not care to act the Merry Andrewfor half a dozen pair of eyes, I will go to the rear tomount. ' But instead of his more stately salutation, he heldout his hand to Wych Hazel with a smile. 

'Good bye, ' she said. 'I am sorry you have had such a hotwalk. But why don't you mount here?'

'I like to choose my audience when I exhibit. '

He clasped Wych Hazel's hand after the fashion of the otherday; then disappeared one way as she went the other. 

Passing swiftly on, holding up her long riding skirt so thatit seemed no encumbrance, musing to herself on past events andpresent expectations; and not without a certain flutter ofpleasure and amusement and timidity at the part she had tofill, Wych Hazel reached the low, broad steps and went in. 

A slender little person, as airy and independent as the bushshe was named for; one of those figures that never by anychance fall into any attitude or take any pose that is notlovely. Hair--as to arrangement--decidedly the worse for thewalk; cheeks a little warmed up with the sun, and perhapsother things; grave eyes, where the woman was but beginning tosupplant the child; a mouth as sweet as it could be, in allits changes; and a hand and foot that were fabulous. So themistress of Chickaree went in to receive her first instalmentof visitors. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

HOLDING COURT. 

She was scarcely within the door when Mr. Falkirk met her, puther arm within his and led her into the drawing-room. For afew minutes there the impression was merely of a flutter ofgauzes, a shifting scene of French bonnets, a show ofdelicately gloved hands, and a general breeze of complimentsand gratulations, in those soft and indeterminate tones thatstir nothing. Mme. Lasalle it was, with a bevy of ladies, older and younger, among whom it was impossible at first todistinguish one from the other. So similar was in every casethe display of French flowers, gloves and embroidery; soaccordant the make of every dress and the modulation of everytone. Mme. Lasalle herself was, however, prominent, having apair of black eyes which once fairly seen were for ever aftereasily recognizable. Fine eyes, too; bright and merry, whichmade themselves quite at home in your face in half a minute. She was overflowing with graciousness. Her nephew, thegentleman of the roses, the only cavalier of the party, kepthimself in a modest background. 

'I have been longing to see you at home, my dear, ' said Mme. Lasalle. 'All in good time; but I always am impatient for whatI want. And then we have all wanted you; the places of socialcomfort in the neighbourhood are so few that we cannot affordto have Chickaree shut up. This beautiful old house! I am sodelighted to be in it again. But I hope you have met with noaccident this morning? You have not?'

'Accident?--O no!'

'You have surely not been thrown, ' said another lady. 

'No, ma'am. ' The demure face was getting all alight withsecret fun. 

'But how was it?' pursued Mme. Lasalle, with an air ofinterest. 'We saw you walk up to the door--what had become ofyour horse?'

'He walked to another door. '

'And you have really been taking foot exercise this morning, 'said the lady, in whose eyes and the lines of her face mightbe seen a slight shadow. Miss Kennedy then had been on foot ofchoice, and so accompanied! And Wych Hazel was tooinexperienced to notice--but her guardian was not--that Mr. Nightingale, to whom he had been talking, paused in hisattention and turned to catch the answer. 

'I have been finding out that my woods need attention, ' saidMiss Kennedy, who never chose to be catechised if she couldhelp it. 'It is astonishing that they can have grown so muchin these years when I have grown so little!'

'You have got to make acquaintance with a great many otherthings here besides your trees. Do you know any of yourneighbours? or is it all unbroken ground?'

'I do not even know how much there is to break. '

'How delicious!' remarked a languid lady. 'Think of cominginto a region where all is new! Things get so tiresome whenyou know them too well. '

'People and all!' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'Well, yes--don't you think they do? When there is nothing moreto be found out about them. '

'I don't agree with you, ' said another lady. 'I think it's sotiresome to find them out. When you once know them, then yougive up being disappointed. '

'My dear Clara!' said Mme. Lasalle, 'what a misanthropicalsentiment! Miss Kennedy, I know by her face, will never agreewith you. Were you ever disappointed, my dear, in your life?There! I know you were not. '

'Not often, I think. ' What were they talking about, --thesepeople who looked so gay and spoke so languidly? Miss Kennedyrang for refreshments, hoping to revive them a little. 

'But, my dear, how far have you walked in this hot sun? Yousee, you quite dismay us country people. Do tell us! How farhave you walked?'

'The miles are as unknown to me as the inhabitants, ' she saidgayly. 'But we brown people are never afraid of the sun. '

'Miles!' said Mme. Lasalle looking round her. 'Imagine it!'Then as the lady took a piece of cake, she remarked casually:

'I think I saw an old acquaintance of mine with you--DaneRollo, was it not?'

'Mr. Rollo? Yes. '

'He has not been to see me since he came home--I shall quarrelwith him. I wonder if he has been to Mrs. Powder's. Mr. Falkirk, don't you think Dane had a great penchant for one ofMrs. Powder's beautiful daughters before he went abroad?'

'I am not in the confidence of either party, madam, ' repliedMr. Falkirk. 

'If he had he would have taken her with him, ' said another ofthe party. 

'O that don't follow, you know. Maybe her mother thought shewas too young--or _he_, perhaps. She is a beautiful girl. '

'Not my style of beauty, ' said the languid lady with an air ofrepulsion. 

'What has he been doing in Europe all this time?' pursued Mme. Lasalle. 'Been to Norway, hasn't he?'

'I believe he went there. '

'He has relations there, Dr. Maryland told me. '

'Dr. Maryland knows, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'Perhaps he will settle in Norway. '

'Perhaps he will. '

'But how dreadful for his wife! Mrs. Powder would not likethat. He's a great favourite of mine, Dane is; but I am afraidhe has rather a reputation for breaking ladies' hearts. Whatdo you think, Mr. Falkirk? He is welcome everywhere. Maybeit's Norwegian fashion; but I think Dr. Maryland is veryimprudent to let him come into his house again--if he does. Doyou know the Marylands, my dear?' turning to Wych Hazel again. 

'They knew me, long ago, ' she said. 'I have been here but twodays now. '

'The daughter--this daughter--is a singular girl, is she not?'

'I do not know--I like her, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'Oh she's very queer, ' said another young lady. 

'I have no doubt she is _good_, ' Mme. Lasalle went on; 'no doubtat all. But I have heard she lives in a strange way--amongchildren and poor people--going about preaching and makingclothes. A little of that is all very well; I suppose we mightall do more of it, and not hurt ourselves; but is not MissMaryland quite an enthusiast?'

Wych Hazel was getting very much amused. 

'She was not enthusiastic over me, ' she said, 'and I have notseen her tried with anything else. Where does she preach?'

'You will find her out. Wait till you know her a littlebetter. She will preach to you, I have no doubt. Prudentia, Mrs. Coles, is very different. She is really a charming woman. But my dear Miss Kennedy, we have been here a length of timethat it will not do to talk about. We have had no mercy uponMr. Falkirk, for we were determined to see you. Now you mustcome and spend the day with me to-morrow, and I'll tell youeverything. We are going on a fishing expedition up the Arrow;and we want you. And you must come early; for we must take thecool of the morning to go and the cool of the afternoon tocome back. I'll see you home safe. Come! say yes. '

'I will if Mr. Falkirk does, ma'am, very gladly. '

'Let her go!' whispered another member of the party, who hadbeen using her eyes more than her tongue. 

'Give her a loose rein now, Mr. Falkirk, and hold her in whenKitty Fisher comes. '

'Pshaw! she isn't under guardianship at that rate, ' said Mme. Lasalle. 'Mr. Falkirk, isn't this lady free yet?'

'I am afraid she never will be, madam. '

'What do you mean by that? But does she have to ask your leavefor everything she does?'

'No one acquainted with the wisdom of Miss Kennedy's generalproceedings would do me so much honour as to think the wisdomall came from me!' said Mr. Falkirk dryly. 

'Well, you'll let her come to Moscheloo?'

'Certainly. '

The lady looked at Wych Hazel. The laughing eyes had grownsuddenly quiet. It was with a very dignified bend of the headthat she repeated Mr. Falkirk's assent. 

'I shall not ask _you_, ' said the lady to Miss Kennedy'sguardian; 'it is a young party entirely, and must mot have toomuch wisdom, you understand. I'll bring her home. '

'I am no sportsman, madam, ' said Mr. Falkirk with a smile;'and my wisdom will probably be busy to-morrow in MissKennedy's plantations. '

With that, the train of ladies swept away, with renewed softwords of pleasure and hope and congratulation. They rustledsoftly through the hall, gently spoke ecstasies at the halldoor, mounted upon their horses and got into their carriages, and departed. Mr. Falkirk came back to his ward in the hall. 

'Now that to-morrow is provided for, ' he said, 'I should beglad to hear, Miss Hazel, the history of yesterday. It isquite impossible to know a story from Dingee's telling of it. And do you think you could give me some luncheon?'

'Certainly, sir. ' She was just disposing of hat and whip upona particular pair of chamois horns on the wall. They hung alittle high for her, and she was springing to reach them likeany airiest creature that ever made a spring. 'Perhaps youwill be so kind as to be seated, Mr. Falkirk?--in the diningroom--for a moment. Dingee!'--her voice rang softly out clear asan oriole. 'Luncheon at once--do you hear, Dingee? Don't keepMr. Falkirk waiting. '

Mr. Falkirk stood still looking at all this, and waiting withan unmoved face. 

'Will you excuse my habit, sir? as you are in haste. And am Ito give you the "history" here, all standing?'

'Go! but come, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'We have met only onedivision of the enemy yet, my dear. '

She glanced at him, and went off, and was back; all fresh anddainty and fragrant with the sweet briar at her belt. Thensilently made herself busy with the luncheon; creamed Mr. Falkirk's chocolate; then suddenly exclaimed:

'Could you make nothing of _my_ version, sir?'

'Not much. Where were you going?'

'I was coming home. '

'From Dr. Maryland's?'

'Not at all, sir. I should have said, I was on my way home, --and the storm began, and I took a cross road to expeditematters--and then I grew desperate, and ran into an unknown, open door, and so found myself at Dr. Maryland's. '

'Very intelligible. My question looked to the beginning ofyour expedition. '

'Well, sir--I would rather--but it does not signify. There camea small Bohemian here in the morning to get help for her sickmother; and I went. That is all. '

'Who is the mother, Miss Hazel? Where does she live?'

'I don't know her name. And her habitation only when I see it. All places are alike to me here yet, you know. '

'My dear, ' said Mr. Falkirk gravely, 'you must see that, beingso ignorant of people and things in this region, you hadbetter not make sudden expeditions without taking me into yourconfidence. Dingee said you rode the little black mare?'

'True, sir. '

'You did not like her well enough to ride her home?'

'Quite well enough, sir. '

'You did not do it?'

'No, ' said Wych Hazel--'that Norwegian pirate took her for hisown use, and I walked. '

'Wouldn't let you ride her, eh?' and a curious gleam came intoMr. Falkirk's eyes. 

' "Wanted to try her first"--and was "bound to be afraid, though I was not"--and "couldn't answer it to you"--and so forthand so forth. A man can generally find words enough. '

'Depend upon it, my dear, he generally borrows them of awoman. ' Mr. Falkirk's face relaxed slightly, and he took aturn across the room; then stood still. 'Why didn't you ridethe cob home?--he is there still, isn't he?'

'I did not choose, sir. I should, if I had been askedproperly. '

'Were you not asked?'

'No, except by having my saddle put on that horse and then nottaking it off. '

'You made the demand?'

'Of course. That is, I told the groom to do it. '

Mr. Falkirk smiled and then laughed, or came as near tolaughing as he often did. 

'So you wouldn't ask him into the house? But did you seeanybody else in your yesterday's expedition, my dear?'

She glanced up at him, evidently growing restive under thiscross-questioning. 

'I saw Mr. Nightingale. '

'Nightingale!' echoed Mr. Falkirk. 'Where did you see Mr. Nightingale, Miss Kennedy?'

'In the woods. '

'And what the----. My dear, what were you doing in the woods?'

'Won't you finish your first sentence first, sir? I like totake things in order. '

Mr. Falkirk's brows drew together; he looked down and thenlooked up, awaiting his answer. 

'I was doing nothing in the woods, sir, but finding my wayhome. '

'How came _he_ to be there? Did he speak to you?'

'Yes, sir, he spoke to me. '

'What did he say?' said Mr. Falkirk, looking very gravelyintent. 

'Before we go any further, Mr. Falkirk, ' said the girl, steadily, though she coloured a good deal, 'is it to be yourpleasure in future to know every word that may be said to me?Because in that case, it will be needful to engage a reporter. You must see, sir, that I should never be equal to it. '

'My dear, ' said Mr. Falkirk slowly, 'we are embarked on asearch after fortune;--which always embraced on my part anearnest purpose to avoid misfortune. '

'You sit there, ' she went on, scarce heeding him, 'and ask me"where I was" and "where I was going" and "what I said"--as ifI would forget myself among strange people in this strangeplace!--And then you take for granted that I would be rude toone person whom I do know, just because he had vexed me! I _did_ask him in, and he wouldn't come. I am unpractised--wild, maybe--but am I so unwomanly, Mr. Falkirk? Do you think I am?'It was almost pitiful, the way the young eyes scanned hisface. If Mr. Falkirk had not been a guardian! But he wassteel. 

Yet even steel will give forth flashes, and one of thoseflashes came from under Mr. Falkirk's brows now. His answerwas very quiet. 

'My dear, I think you no more unwomanly than I think a roseunlovely--but the rose has thorns which sometimes prick thehands that would train it out of harm's way. And it mightoccur even to your inexperience that when a gentleman who doesnot know you presumes to address you, he can have nothing tosay which it would not be on several accounts proper for me tohear. '

Again the colour bloomed up. 

'You would know, if you were a woman, Mr. Falkirk, how itfeels to have a man sit and question you with such an air. Ah, ' she said, dashing off the tears which had gathered in hereyes, 'if you really think I can take no better care of myselfthan that, you should not have said I might go with thosepeople to-morrow!--A rose's thorns are for _protection_, sir!'--And away she went, out of the room and up the stairs; and Mr. Falkirk heard no more till Dingee entered with fruit andbiscuits. 

'Missee Hazel hope you'll enjoy yours, sar, --she take her'supstairs. '

Mr. Falkirk put on his hat and walked down to his house. 

It was a slight fiction on the part of Dingee, to say thatMiss Hazel was taking her fruit upstairs; indeed the wholemessage was freely translated from her--

'Dingee, attend to Mr. Falkirk's lunch, I don't want any. '

Presently now came Dingee to her with another message. 

'Massa Morton--he 'most dyin' to see Miss Hazel--but he waittill she done had her lunch. '

And she flashed down upon Mr. Morton's eyes, like a prism-caught-sunbeam. By this time there were two pairs of eyes tobe dazzled. Mr. Dell had made his appearance on the stage. 

Mr. Dell was a clergyman, of a different denomination, wholike Mr. Maryland had a church to take care of at Crocus. Mr. Dell's was a little church at the opposite corner of thevillage and society. He himself was a good-hearted, plain man, with no savour of elegance about him, though with more thanthe usual modicum of sense and shrewdness. Appearanceconformable to character. Mr. Morton was not very far from Mr. Falkirk's range of years, though making more attempts toconceal the fact. Rich, well educated, well mannered, a littleheavy, he had married very young; and now a widower of twentyyears standing, the sight of Wych Hazel had suggested to himwhat a nice thing it would be to be married again. The estatestoo suited each other, even touched at one point. With thisgentleman Wych Hazel had some slight acquaintance, and heintroduced Mr. Dell; thinking privately to himself how absurdit was for such men to come visiting such women. 

'I see with pleasure that you have quite recovered from thefatigues of your journey, Miss Kennedy. A day's rest willoften do wonders. '

'Yes, sir. Especially if you spend a good piece of it onhorseback, as I did. '

'On horseback!' said Mr. Morton, looking doubtful--(he hopedshe was not going to turn out one of those riding damsels, whowent rough shod over all his ideas of propriety. ) 'Did you goout so soon to explore the country?'

'No, sir. I went out on business. '

'Ah!'--(how admirable in so young a person. )

'There is business enough in city or country, ' saidstraightforward Mr. Dell--'if you are disposed to take hold ofit. Even our little Crocus will give you plenty. '

'All the year round, sir?--or does Crocus go to sleep in thewinter like most other bulbs?'

'It is another species from any that you are acquainted with, I am afraid, ' said the clergyman, looking at her with mingledcuriosity and admiration. 'Bulbs when they go to sleep requireno attention, I believe; but our Crocus wants most of all inthe cold season. We want lady gardeners too, ' said Mr. Dell, following the figure. 

'It is a most healthful exercise, ' said Mr. Morton, 'and theslight disadvantages of dress, etc. , rather form a pleasantfoil, I think, to the perfection of attire at other times. Areyou fond of gardening, Miss Kennedy?'

'Very fond!' said Miss Kennedy, demurely. 'But that is one ofthe times when I like to be particularly perfect in my attire, Mr. Norton. Why, Mr. Dell, the bulbs must be kept fromfreezing, you know, if they _are_ asleep. Isn't Miss Marylandone of your successful gardeners?'

'Miss Maryland does all she can, madam, ' said Mr. Dell, earnestly. 'She has been the good angel of the village forfive years past. '

'That is just what she looks like, ' said Wych, with a glow ofpleasure. 'And I'm going to help her all I can. '

'But do you not think, ' said Mr. Morton, with the dubious lookagain--'you are talking, I imagine, of Miss Maryland's visitsamong the lower classes, --do not you think they make a younglady too prominent--too public--Mr. Dell? They bring her amongvery rough people, Miss Kennedy, I assure you. '

'But, sir, one would not lose the chance of being a good angelfor the fear of being prominent. '

'Or for the fear of anything else, ' said Mr. Dell. 

'Truly not, ' said Mr. Morton. 'But we gentlemen think, MissKennedy, that ladies of a certain stamp can scarcely fail ofso desirable a position. '

'Ah, but I want a pair of bona fide wings!' said Wych Hazel, and she looked so comically innocent and witch-like that Mr. Morton forgot all else in admiration; and Mr. Dell looked ather with all his eyes as he remarked, --

'Not to fly away from the poor and needy--as many of Mr. Morton's angels do. '

'Do they?' said Wych Hazel, --'where do they fly to? Mr. Morton, what becomes of your angels?'

'My angels, ' said Mr. Morton with some emphasis on thepronoun, 'would never be in the majority. When I said "ladiesof a certain stamp, " I by no means intended to say that theclass was a large one. '

'No, sir, of course not. If the class were large, I shouldsuppose the stamp would become very uncertain. Mr. Dell, whatdoes Crocus want most, just now?'

'I should say--angels, ' said Mr. Dell. He spoke with a smile, but with a shrewd and sensible eye withal. He was not abeauty, but he had mettle in him. 

'That's a bad want in the present state of the case, as setforth by Mr. Morton. Are gold angels good for anything as asubstitute?'

'Good for very little. When I said angels, I spoke of what theworld most wants, as well as Crocus; angels in human form, Imean, or rather, in their human state of initiation. There isno substitute. Gold will do something; but nothing of what agood man or a good woman will do--anywhere. '

'Miss Kennedy, ' said Mr. Morton, rising, 'I regret much that abusiness appointment calls me away. But if you will indulgeme, I will call again the day after to-morrow, in theafternoon, and perhaps I may hope for your company on a drive. You must make acquaintance with this fine region. '

'Thank you'--Wych Hazel hesitated, looking for some retreat, finally took shelter behind her guardian. 'Thank you, sir, Iwill ask Mr. Falkirk. '

'Miss Kennedy, ' said Mr. Morton, extending his hand, 'you mustallow me to express my admiration! I wish other young ladieswere so thoughtful and prudent. But if they were, it would notmake your conduct less remarkable. ' And Mr. Morton departed, while Wych Hazel, turning a sharp pirouette on one toe, dropped into her chair like a thistle down. But all thatappeared to the eyes of Mr. Dell was a somewhat extensiveflutter of muslin. He had no time to remark upon it nor uponanything else, as there immediately succeeded a flutter ofmuslin in another direction, just entering in by the door;which secondary flutter was furnished by the furbelows of Mrs. Fellows, the lawyer's wife, and the scarf of Mrs. Dell, themother of the clergyman himself. There was no more questionabout angels. 

CHAPTER XV. 

TO MOSCHELOO. 

The next morning Mr. Falkirk appeared in the breakfast-room, as was his very frequent, though not invariable wont. 

'I want your orders, Miss Hazel, about horses. '

Hazel--deep in a great wicker tray of flowers--looked up toconsider the question. 

'Well, sir, --we want carriage horses of course, --and saddlehorses. And I want a pony carriage. '

'I don't think you need two carriages at present. The ponycarriage would have to have a pony. '

'Yes, sir. Pony carriages, I believe, generally do. I am notwell enough known in the neighbourhood yet to expect othermeans of setting my wheels in motion. But if I have nothing_but_ that, Mr. Falkirk, then you and I can never go together. '

'And if you do _not_ have that, then you could not go alone. '

'Precisely, sir. Mr. Falkirk, don't you want a rose--what shallI say! --to--do something to your meditations?' And before Mr. Falkirk had time to breathe, she was down on her knees at hisside, and fastening an exquisite "Duchess of Thuringia" in hisbuttonhole. 

'Yes, I look like it, ' said he grimly, but suffering herfingers to do their will nevertheless. 'Miss Hazel, if theprincess goes about in a pony carriage, I shall be in dailyexpectation of its turning into a pumpkin, and leaving her onthe ground somewhere. '

'No, sir. Not the least fear of your turning into an amiablegodmother, --and you know that was essential. '

'Ponies are ugly things, ' said Mr. Falkirk ruefully. 'However, I'll ask Rollo; and if he can find one, that suits him----'

'Then do let him keep it!' interposed Miss Hazel, facinground. 'What possible concern of Mr. Rollo's are my horses?'

'Simply that I am going to ask him to choose them. He knowsmore about such things than any one else, and I dare say hewill give me his help. I wanted to know your fancy, thoughvery likely it can't be met, about the other horses; colourand so forth. '

'Not white--and not black, ' said Wych Hazel. 'And not sorrel--nor cream. '

'That is lucid. You said saddle horses--Ah! what's this?'

It was a little combination of brisk sounds in the hall, followed by the entrance of Rollo himself in a grayfisherman's dress. Unless he was very hard to suit he mighthave enjoyed the picture now opened before him. The prettyroom, with its garden outlook; the breakfast table, bright andquaint together, with its old-time furnishings; and flowerseverywhere, arranged and un-arranged. As he came in, WychHazel had just (quite surreptitiously) hung a garland ofpansies on the high carved peak of Mr. Falkirk's chair, andthen dropped into her own place; with a De Rohan rose in thebelt of her gray dress. Not in the least like Roll's gray, butwhite with the edge taken off, like a pale cloud. 

'So!' she said, looking up at him as he stood beside her, --'have you come to confess?'

'Not this time. I have come to ask if I may catch some of yourtrout--if I can. '

'_Not_ this time! If you wait for another the score will beheavier. '

'May I have your trout?'

'Really, if they give their consent I will. Good morning, Mr. Rollo!--will you sit down and let me give you some coffee?'

'As I came for that too, I will, thank you. Will you lend meVixen to-day?'

'Why yes--as I am going fishing myself, and so cannot use her, 'said Miss Hazel, giving critical attention to cream and sugar. 'But it is very good of me--after the way you have behaved. '

'It is very good of you. Is that thing all you have got toride, except the respectable cob?'

'Half broken, isn't she?' asked Mr. Falkirk. 

'Half--hardly. She shies wickedly. '

'I am glad Hazel hears you. I hope she will not mount heragain after that. '

Rollo's eyes came over to Wych Hazel's with an expression shecould not quite read. It was not petitioning; it might be alittle inquisitive. But she chose rather to answer Mr. Falkirk. 

'I needed no help to find out that she shied, sir. Then I havea little sympathy with that particular species of what Mr. Rollo is pleased to call "wickedness. " '

'It is very unfair, of course, ' said Rollo, 'to speak of anaction from its results--but we all do it. Now a horse's shyingmay break your neck. It is true a lady's shying may break yourheart; but that don't count. '

'We are just talking about horses, Rollo. I want your help. '

'I will give it with promptness--if Miss Kennedy command me. '

'Mr. Rollo's innocent way of talking about commands woulddeceive anybody but me, ' said Wych Hazel. 'But I am learningto know him by slow and painful degrees. '

The only answer to this was a mischievous smile, which did notembolden further charges. But whether boldly or not, Hazelwent on with a fair show at least of bravery. 

'What was that I was told so impressively yesterday?' shesaid. ' "There are circumstances where fear is highlycommendable in a woman, when it is yet not desirable in aman. " And after all that, did you not speed away like a verypoltroon, and leave me to face everything by myself? Confess, Mr. Rollo!' The demure eyes were brimming with fun. 

'How much did you have to face?' asked the gentleman takinganother roll. 

'Ten people and two catechisms. And if Madame Lasalle saystrue--Have you a sketching club here? and is she itspresident?'

'We have no such club--and it has no such president--and whetherMadame Lasalle says true is a matter entirely unknown to me. Do you say you are going fishing to-day, Miss Kennedy?'

'Mr. Falkirk told Madame Lasalle I might. And she is to "tellme everything, "--fill up her sketches, I suppose; so the sportmay be extensive. Yesterday her pencil marks were delightfullyindistinct, and made the most charming confusion between catsand dogs and canary birds. Miss Maryland was a preacher, herfather the personification of imprudence, and you--'

She had run on in a sort of gleeful play, not at all guessingwhat the pencil marks really meant, and stopped short now onlyfor fear her play might chafe. 

'What was I?' said Rollo, with a quietness that was evidentlycareless. 

'You, ' said Wych Hazel impressively, 'were (in a general way)a Norwegian, a Dane, --making your way everywhere and layingwaste the country. '

Something in Mr. Falkirk's face as she finished these wordsmade her instinct take alarm. The colour mounted suddenly. 

'O, please do not speak to me again--anybody!' she said, looking down. 'I was all alone yesterday afternoon, and had todescend into the depths of Morton Hollow--and I believe I am alittle wild at getting back. And Mr. Morton, sir--O, you havenot asked what he said to me!' She checked her self again, toolate! Whatever should she do with her tongue to keep it still. The Camille de Rohan at her belt was hardly deeper dyed thanshe. 

'What about Mr. Morton?' said Rollo. 'Forgive somebody forspeaking--but it was impossible to ask without!'

'O--nothing--only a compliment for Mr. Falkirk, ' said the girl, trying to rally. 'And Mr. Falkirk had said--And I have lived solong alone with Mr. Falkirk that I have got into a very badhabit of forgetting that anybody else can be present!'

It did not exactly help on the progress of self-control, thatat this point Dingee came in, bearing in both hands a lovelybasket of hot-house grapes and nectarines, themselvesspecimens of perfection, with a long wreathing stem ofwonderful white orchids laid across its other treasures. Dingee evidently enjoyed his share in the business, for hiswhite teeth were in a glitter. 

'Mass' Morton, Miss Hazel. He done send 'em to my youngmistiss, wid his greatest 'spects. He say he done percolate deHollow and couldn't find nuffin more gorgeous, or he's send_him_. '

'Dingee!' said his young mistress, flashing round upon him, 'do you venture to bring me a made-up message? Take the basketto Mr. Falkirk!'

But she shrank back then, as they saw, with extreme shyness. The little fingers trembled, trying to busy themselves amongspoons and cups; and one pitiful glance towards Mr. Falkirkbesought him to take the affair into his own hands, and sendwhatever return message might be needful. O to be a child, andput her head down under the table! And instead of that shemust keep her place--and she did, with the most ladylikequietness. Mr. Falkirk had reason to be content with her foronce. 

'Nobody waiting, is there, Dingee?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'Ye' sir. '

'Take him this, and send him off politely; but no message, Dingee, if you want to wag your tongue in _this_ house!'

'Ye' sir. Got to be one somehow, sure!' said Dingee. ' 'Boutsumfin Mass' Morton done say to Miss Hazel. Real stupid fellerhe is dat come--can't make out what he says, nohow. '

'About a drive, ' said Wych Hazel, looking over once more ather guardian. 'I expect you to say no, sir. '

'What did _you_ say, my dear?'

'I said I would ask you, sir--the shortest way to a negative. 'Her lips were getting in a curl again. 

Mr. Falkirk went out to speak to Mr. Morton's messenger, andcoming back again stood looking down at the basket of fruitwith the wreath of white orchids lying across it. 

'I hope you are grateful to fortune, my dear, ' he remarkedrather grimly. 

'I hope you are, sir, --_I_ have nothing to do with that concern, 'said Wych Hazel with prompt decision. 

'You don't know, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'It's an enchanted basket, Miss Hazel. Looks innocent enough; but I know there areseveral little shapes lurking in its depths--ants or flies orwhat not--which a little conjuration from you would turn intocarriage horses, pony and all. '

'They are safe to eat grapes in the shape of ants and fliesfor the term of their natural lives, ' said Rollo contentedly. He did not care for Mr. Morton. Indeed he looked as if itwould be difficult to disturb him, more than superficially, about anything. And that, not for want of elements ofdisturbance, but because of other elements of character, whichin their strength slumbered, and perhaps were scarcely self-conscious. The last words moreover were a shield over WychHazel's possible shyness. However it was, Mr. Falkirk lookedacross from the orchids to him, and considered him somewhatfixedly. 

'If we are not to get them out of the basket--but that would bevery like a fairy tale--will you see to the matter of thehorses, Rollo?'

'If Miss Kennedy commands me, ' he said, with a smile. But MissKennedy was in a mood to keep her distance. 

'I have told Mr. Falkirk, ' she said. And now came up thequestion of her engagement at Moscheloo; if she was going, sheought to be off, and it appeared that there was no vehicle onthe place in fit order to take her. Mr. Falkirk proposed tosend to Crocus. 

'Too far, ' said Rollo. 'Suppose you put yourself in thesaddle, and let me convoy you over to Moscheloo? It's good fora ride, this morning. '

'I thought you wanted Vixen?' said the girl, turning towardshim. 

'_You_ don't. '

'Do you know what I do want, as well as what I do not, Mr. Rollo?'

'The trouble is, it is not to be had to-day. But there is thegrey cob. Always take the best there is to be had. Put on yourhabit, and I'll give you a very decent canter across thecountry to Moscheloo. Come!' he said, with a look compoundedof sweetness and raillery. But raillery from Rollo's eyes wasa little keen. 

She laughed with a pretty acknowledgment of the raillery, buta first did not answer. It was a great temptation! Thebreakfast had left her excited and restless, and to get awayfrom it all--to have a canter in the fresh wind! Then, shehated the very name of the grey cob!--She looked over to Mr. Falkirk. He was looking at her earnestly, but he did notspeak. 

'Shall I do that, sir?'

'If you go, you cannot do better, ' he said, in a tone whichcertainly signified a want of satisfaction at something; butthat was not unprecedented in their discussions. 

'But my habit!--O well, I can manage that. Then will you beready very soon, Mr. Rollo?'

Dane was ready, there was no doubt of that; but Mr. Falkirkwas on the verandah also, when the little mistress ofChickaree come forth to be mounted; and for the occasion thered squirrel went back to the old grave punctilio of manner hecould assume when he pleased. 

That was all the surrounding pairs of eyes could see; a gravedeference, a skilful care in performance of his duties as WychHazel's squire. But to her, out of ken of all but herself, there was an expression of somewhat else; in every touch andmovement and look, an indescribable something, which even toher inexperience said: 'Every bit of your little person, andeverything that concerns it, is precious to me. ' Not one manin many could have so shewn it to her, and hidden it from thebystanders. It was a bit of cool generalship. Then he threwhimself on his own horse, like the red squirrel he was, andthey moved off slowly together. 

Well, she was not a vain girl, having quite too much of a tidein her fancies, notions and purposes to be stopping to thinkof herself all the while. So, though Rollo's manner did makeher shy, it stirred up no self-consciousness. Forunderstanding may sleep, while instincts are awake. It wasvery pleasant to be liked, and if she wondered a little why heshould like her--for Miss Kennedy was certainly not blind tosome of her own wayward imperfections--still, perhaps thewonder made it all the pleasanter. She was not in the leastinclined to take people's attentions in any but the simplestway (if only they were not flung at her by the basketful); andin short had no loose tinder, as yet, lying round to catchfire. Perhaps that says the whole. So she was about as graveand as gay, as timid and as bold, by turns, as if she had beenseven years old. 

'I promised you a canter, ' said her companion, taking hold ofher bridle to draw the grey aside from a bad place in theroad. 'Next time you shall have a gallop--so soon as I can findwhat will do for you. Never mind for to-day. '

'You think this most respectable horse could so far forgethimself as to canter?'

'Try. '

And away they went, with that elastic, flying spring throughthe air which bids spirits bound as well, and leaves carenowhere. For the old grey had paces, if his jollity wassomewhat abated; and Vixen went provokingly, minding herbusiness like one who thought she had better. Nevertheless itwas a good canter. 

'You will be a good rider, ' said Rollo, when at length theysubsided to a trot, stretching out his hand again and drawingWych Hazel's reins a little further through her fingers. 'There, that is quite enough for him, steady as he is. Do youkeep so free a rein in the household as you do in the saddle?'

'There has been no household--and no bridle, except for me. '

'Is Mr. Falkirk partial to a short rein?'

'What is "short?" ' she said with a laugh. 'That is an utterlyunsettled point. Are women never appointed guardians, Mr. Rollo?'

'Certainly, ' said Rollo, gravely. 'Always, when they marry. '

She glanced at him, doubting whether he might be laughing ather. 

'But I mean as Mr. Falkirk was. '

'Not often; but it occasionally happens. I congratulate youthat your case was not such. '

'Ah, you do not know!' she said quickly, with a sort ofoutbreak of impatience. 

'You don't know either, ' said he. 

'Yes I do. Not much about women to be sure--I have known veryfew. But I do know Mr. Falkirk, and love him dearly, and thinka great deal more of him than you possibly can, Mr. Rollo. '

'I have thought a great deal about him, ' said Rollo, in a sortof dry, innocent manner. 'But I will tell you--a man'sguardianship leaves you a moral agent; a woman's changes youinto a hunted badger; and if you were of some sorts of natureit would be a hunted fox. You know I have been underguardianship too?'

'Yes, but I thought it was Dr. Maryland's?' she said lookingat him with astonished eyes. 'And you speak--Ah, you do notknow, as I said, after all. You never wanted anything that aman could not give you. '

He laughed a little, his eye brightening and changing as helooked at her with a very winning expression. 

'I had all that a man could give me. Dr. Maryland was fatherand mother in one, gentle and strong. But I have been inwardship under a woman too, partially, and it was as I tellyou. Dr. Maryland would say: "Dane, don't go there, " or "letthat alone, " and I _did_, except when a very wicked fit got holdof me. But _she_ would stick a cushion with pins, to keep me outof it, and if she wanted to keep a cup from my lips she rubbedgall where my lips would find it. '

'_Two_ guardians!' said Wych Hazel; 'so that queer woman atCatskill thought _I_ had. But it is a great deal harder to havea man find fault with you, nevertheless. '

'Why?' said Rollo, laughingly and seriously too. 

'They are so quick in their judgments, ' said the girl; 'sosure about the evidence. The jury agree without retiring, andsentence is passed before you are summoned to attend your owntrial. You are out of play; you suddenly find yourselfconvicted of manslaughter in the fourth degree--or thefiftieth; it makes no difference. ' The words came out with herusual quick emphasis, and then Miss Hazel remembered that oneor two of her words were suggestive. She flushed very much, drooping her head. 

'Coroner's inquest?' said Rollo, with a mixture of gentlenessand fun. But she made no answer, unless by the soft laughwhich hardly let itself be heard. He stretched out his handagain, laying it this time lightly upon hers, altering itsbearing. 

'Curb him in a little more, ' said he, 'a little--so. Now touchhim gently on the shoulder. What is it you think you miss somuch in a man's guardianship?'

She looked round at him then--one of her girlish, searchinglooks, resolving perhaps how far it was safe to beconfidential. 

'A good many things, Mr. Rollo, ' she answered, slowly. 'I donot believe you could understand. But I would rather havefourteen lectures from Mrs. Bywank than just to hear one ofMr. Falkirk's stiff "Miss Hazels. " '

'I cannot remember any lectures from Mrs. Bywank, ' said Rollo, looking as if his recollections in that quarter were pleasant--'which were not as soft as swansdown. But here we are comingto Moscheloo. How much do you know about fishing?'

'Rather less than I do about anything else. O, I remember Mrs. Bywank said she used to know you. '

'Mrs. Bywank is an old friend. In the times when I had, practically, two guardians--though only Dr. Maryland held theposition officially--when there was nobody at Chickaree, I usedto go nutting in your woods and fishing in the same brookwhich will, I hope, give me some trout to-day; and when I wasthoroughly wetted with a souse in the water, or had torn myclothes half off my back in climbing to the tops of the trees, I used to carry my fish ad my difficulties to Mrs. Bywank. Shecooked the one and she mended the other; we eat the fish incompany, and parted with the promise to meet again. Seems tome I ought to have had lectures, but I didn't get them fromher. '

'Well, that is just it, ' said Hazel, with her earnest face. 'She understood. '

'Understood what?' said Rollo, smiling. 

'Things, ' said Hazel, 'and you. '

'There's a great deal in that. Now do you want anothercanter?'

There was a mile of smooth way between them and the grounds ofMoscheloo; a level road bordered with Lollard poplars. Thegrey went well, spite of his age and steadiness, and Vixenbehaved her prettiest; but she was not much of a steed afterall, and just now was shewing the transforming power of a goodrider. And the rider was good company. They came to the opengate of Moscheloo, and began to ascend more slowly theterraced road of the grand entrance. The house stood high; toreach it the avenue made turn after turn, zig-zagging up thehill between and under fine old trees that overshadowed itscourse. 

'Here we are, said Rollo, looking up toward the yet distanthouse. 'How many people do you suppose there will be here thatknow anything about fish!'

'Why, it is a fishing party!' said Wych Hazel. 'I suppose I amthe only one who does _not_ know. '

'I will tell you beforehand what to expect. There will be agreat deal of walking, a good deal of luncheon, a vast deal oftalk, and a number of fishing rods. I shouldn't be surprisedif you caught the first fish. The rest will be dinner. '

'And you will reverse that, ' said Wych Hazel, --'little dinnerand much fish. '

'Depends, ' said Rollo. 'I am going to look after Mr. Falkirk, if he is in my neighbourhood. '

'Look after him!--Let him learn how it feels?' she said, with alaugh. 

'Not just in that sense, ' said Rollo, smiling. 'Only keep himfrom getting lost in the woods. '

'He has nothing to do in the woods till I come, ' said WychHazel. 'And I thought you said you were off for a day'sfishing?'

'I'll combine two pleasures--if I can. '

'What is the other?' she said, looking at him. 

'Woodcraft. '

A tinge came up in her cheeks that might have been onlysurprise. She looked away, and as it were tossed off the firstwords that came. Then with very sedate deliberation:

'Mr. Rollo, I do not allow _anybody_ to practice woodcraft amongmy trees without my special oversight. Not even Mr. Falkirk. '

'Suppose Mr. Falkirk takes a different view, ' said Rollo, alsosedately, 'am I answerable? Because, if that is your meaning, I will tell him he undergoes my challenge. '

'He is not to cut a tree nor a branch till I come home. '

'Suppose we arrange, then, for a time when you will come outand give a day to the business. Shall we say to-morrow?'

'O yes, I agree to that. '

'There shall not be a tree cut, then, till to-morrow. And to-morrow you shall have a lesson. Now here we are. '

CHAPTER XVI. 

FISHING. 

Several people were on the steps before the door, watching andwaiting for them. The house shewed large and stately; theflight of steps imposing. Hot-house plants stood around inboxes; the turf was well shaven; the gravelled road in order;the overhanging trees magnificent. Moscheloo was a fine place. As the riders approached the door, Mme. Lasalle came forward, pouring forth welcomes, and invitations to Rollo. But afterdismounting Wych Hazel, and so disappointing the gentleman whowanted to do it, Rollo excused himself and set off down thehill again. Mme. Lasalle turned to Wych Hazel, and led her, with flying introductions by the way, to the stairs and up toa dressing-room. 

'It is quite charming to see you, and to think that Chickareeis inhabited and has a mistress--it makes Moscheloo, I assureyou, several degrees brighter. Now, my dear, what will youhave?--is it nothing but to take off this habit-skirt?--let meundo it. What an odd mortal that is, that came with you!'

But to that Wych Hazel answered nothing. The light ridingskirt and jacket taken off, left her in green from head tofoot. A daring colour for a brunette. But her own tint was soclear and the mossy shade of her dress was so well chosen, that the effect was extremely good. She looked like a woodnymph. 

'Charming!--vraie Fran�aise'--said Madame, softly. 'That is acoquettish colour, my dear--are you of that character!'

'I am not sure that I know my own character yet, ' Hazel said, laughing a little. 

'Ah! that's dangerous. You don't know your own character?--thendo you read other people's? Rollo--do you know him well?'

Mme. Lasalle was somewhat officiously but with great attentionstroking into order one or two of Wych Hazel's curls which theriding had tossed. 

'O, I dare say I shall make new discoveries, Mme. Lasalle. '

'He's the best creature in the world, everybody likes him;but--Oh dear! well I suppose all young men are so; they alllike power. Did you notice that Miss Powder down stairs, thatI introduced to you?'

'Hardly. '

'You had no time. She's a sweet creature. Oh, no, you hadn'ttime; but I want you to see her do-day. I have a little planin my head. ' And Mme. Lasalle left the curls and whisperedwith a serious face. '_She's_ the young lady Rollo paid so muchdevotion to before he went abroad. Everybody knew that; and Iknow he liked her; but then, you see, he went off, and nothingcame of it; but it's a pity, for Mrs. Powder would have beenmuch pleased, I know, with her large family of daughters--to besure, she has married two of them now;--but what is worse, ' (ina lower whisper) 'Annabella would have been pleased too; andshe hasn't been pleased since. Now isn't it a shame?'

Wych Hazel considered the matter. With a curious feeling ofdisbelief in her mind, which (without in the least knowingwhere it came from) found its way to her face. 

'I wonder she would tell of it!'

'My dear, she didn't; only one sees, one can't help it. Onesees a great many disagreeable things, but it's no use tothink about it. It was nothing very bad in Rollo, you know; hehas that way with him, of seeming to like people; but it don'tmean anything, _except_ that he does like them. O, I know thathe liked her--and I am going to make you accomplice in a littleplot of mine. I won't tell you now--by and by, when you haveseen Annabella a little more. I would have asked Dane to joinour party to-day, but I didn't dare--I was afraid he wouldguess what I was at. Now, my dear, I won't keep you up hereany longer. Pardon me, you are charming! If Dane sees much ofyou, I am afraid my fine scheming will do Annabella no good!'And shaking her head gaily, the lady ran down stairs followedby Wych Hazel. 

There was a great muster then of fishing-rods and baskets; andeverybody being provided, the company was marshalled forth, each lady being under the care of a gentleman, who carried herbasket and rod. Wych Hazel found herself without knowing howor why, leading the march with Mr. Lasalle. He proved rather asober companion. A sensible man, but thoroughly devoted tobusiness, his French extraction seemed to have brought him noinheritance of grace or liveliness--unless Mme. Lasalle hadacted as an absorbent and usurped it at all. He was polite, and gave good host-like attention to his fair littlecompanion; but it was as well for her that the walk presentlysufficed of itself for her entertainment. They went firstacross several fields, where the sun beat down freely on alltheir heads, and divers fences gave play to the active anduseful qualities of the gentlemen. Suddenly from the lastfield they went down a grassy descent--and found themselves atthe side of a brook. 

Well, it was a good-sized brook, overhung with a finebordering of trees that shaded and sheltered it. The ladiescried 'lovely!'--and so it was, after the sunshiny fields on awarm June morning. But this was not the fishing ground. Thebrook must be followed up to the woods whence it came. Andsoon the banks became higher and broken, the ascent steeper, the trees closer; no longer a mere fringe or veil to thefostering waters. Fields were forgotten; the brook grew wildand lively, and following its course became a matter of somedifficulty. Sometimes there was no edge of footing beside thestream; they must take to the stones and rocks which broke itsway, or cross it by fallen trees, and recross again. The woodsmade a thicket of wilderness and stillness and green beautyand shady sweetness, invaded just now by an inroad of fashionand society. 

Like a sprite Wych Hazel led the van, making her way overrocks and through vine tangles and across the water, after afashion attainable by no other feet. Mr. Lasalle had notrouble but to follow; had not even the task of hearingexclamations or being entertained; for Wych Hazel had by nomeans acquired that amiable habit of society which is fulldress upon all occasions. To-day she was like a child out ofschool in her gleeful enjoyment, only very quiet. So sheflitted on through the mazes of the wood and the brook, makingdeep remarks to herself over its dark pools, perching herselfon a rock for a backward look at Miss Powder, and then dartingon. The party in the rear, struggling after, eyed her in thedistance with various feelings. 

'The flower she trod on dipped and rose, 'And turned to look at her!--'

So quoted Metastasio Simms, who played the part of cavalier toMme. Lasalle, and of poet and troubadour in general. 

'There steals over me, Madame, ' said another cavalier, 'thefairy tale remembrance of a marvellous bird with greenplumage--which flitting along before the traveller did therebyallure him to his captivity. Are you pledge for Miss Kennedy'sgood faith?'

'I am pledged for nothing. I advise you to take care ofyourself, Mr. May--I have no doubt she is dangerous. Haven't wecome far enough? Do run down the line, and tell them all tostop where they are; we must not be too close upon oneanother. And when you come back I will reward you with anothercommission. '

While Mr. Simms was gone down the brook, however, Mme. Lasallepermitted the pair next below to pass her and go up to stopMr. Lasalle and Wych Hazel from proceeding any further. So itcame to pass that the highest group on the stream was composedof four instead of two; and the additional two were StuartNightingale and Miss Annabella Powder. Now the fishing rodswere put into the ladies' hands; now the cavaliers attentivelysupplied their hooks with what was supposed to be bait, andperforming afterwards the same office for their own, the brookpresently had the appearance, or would to a bird's-eye view, of a brook in toils. 

'What do we expect to catch, sir?' asked Miss Kennedy of Mr. Lasalle, as she watched his motions and dropped her own linein imitation. 

'If I were a member of the firm, I should say, "all hearts, "mademoiselle, without doubt. '

'For shame, Mr. Lasalle!' cried Miss Powder. 

'Fish are made to be caught, mademoiselle, ' said Mr. Lasalle, throwing his own line again. 

'For shame, Mr. Lasalle! How many hearts do you think one ladywishes to catch?'

'No limit that I know'--said the gentleman serenely. 

'Well, but--are there no other fish in this brook?' said WychHazel. 

'Miss Kennedy makes small account of the first kind, ' saidStuart, laughing. 'That sport is old already. There must bedifficulty to give interest, Lasalle, you know. '

'You gentlemen are complimentary, ' said Miss Powder. 

'Upon my word, I said what I thought, ' replied the firstgentleman. 

'Miss Kennedy, ' called Stuart out from his post down thebrook; 'should compliments be true or false, to becompliments? Miss Powder is too indignant to be judge in thecase. '

'I do not see how false ones can compliment, ' said the lady ingreen, much intent upon her line. 'There!--Mr. Lasalle--is thatwhat you call a bite?'

It was no bite. 

'But people need not know they are false?' pursued Stuart. 

'Well, ' said Wych Hazel, looking down at him, 'you weretalking of what things _are_--not what they seem. '

'You may observe, ' said Mr. Lasalle, 'that most people find itamusing to get bites--if only they don't know there's no fishat the end of them. ' Mr. Lasalle spoke feelingly, for he hadjust hooked and drawn up what proved to be a bunch of weeds. 

'But where there is, ' said Wych hazel. 'There! Mr. Lasalle, Ihave got your fish!' and swung up a glittering trophy highover the gentleman's head. 

'The first fish caught, I'll wager!' cried Stuart; and helooked at his watch. 'Twenty-seven minutes past twelve. Wasthat skill or fortune, Miss Kennedy?'

'Neither, sir, ' observed Mr. Simms, who had wandered that wayin search of a hook. 'There was no hope of Miss Kennedy'sdescending to the bed of the brook--what could the fish do butcome to her? Happy trout!'

'I am afraid he feels very much like a fish out of water, nevertheless, ' said Wych Hazel, eyeing her prize and her linewith a demure face. 

Alas! it was the beginning and ending of their good fortunefor some time. Mr. Simms went back to his place; Mr. Lasalledisengaged the fish and rearranged the bait; and all four fellto work, or to watching, with renewed animation; but in vain. The rods kept their angle of suspension, unless when a tiredarm moved up or down; the fishers' eyes gazed at the lines;the water went running by with a dance and a laugh; the fishlaughed too, perhaps; the anglers did not. There were spicywood smells, soft wood flutter and flap of leaves, stealingand playing sunbeams among the leaves and the tree stems; butthere was too much Society around the brook, and nobody heededall these things. 

'Well, what success?' said Mme. Lasalle coming up after awhile. 'What have you caught? One little fish! Poor littlething! Is that all? Well, it's luncheon time. Lasalle, I wishyou'd go and see that everybody is happy at the lower end ofthe line; and I'll do your fishing meanwhile. Oh, Simms hasalmost killed me! Stuart! do take charge of that basket, willyou?'

Mr. Nightingale receiving the basket from the hands of aservant, inquired of his aunt what he was to do with it. 

'Mercy! open it and give us all something--I am as hungry as Ican be. What have you all been doing that you haven't caughtmore fish? My dear, ' (to Wych Hazel), 'that is all you willget till we go home; we came out to work to-day. '

And Stuart coming up, relieved her of her fishing rod, found apleasant seat on a mossy stone, and opened his basket. 

'As the fish won't bite--Miss Kennedy, will you?'

'If you please, ' she said, taking a new view from her newposition. 'How beautiful everything is to-day! Certainly Ihave learned something about brooks. '

'And something about fishing?'

'Not much. '

'The best thing about fishing, ' said Stuart, after serving theother ladies and coming back to her, 'is that it gives one anappetite. '

'Oh, then you have not studied the brook. '

'Certainly not, ' said he, laughing, 'or only as one studies adictionary--to see what one can get out of it. Please tell me, what did you?'

'New thoughts, ' she said. 'And new fancies. And shadows, andcolours. I forgot all about the fish sometimes. '

'You are a philosopher?' said Stuart, inquisitively. 

'Probably. Don't I look like one?'

He laughed again, with an unequivocal compliment in his brighteyes. He was a handsome fellow, and a gentleman from head tofoot. So far at least as manners can make it. 

'I do not judge from appearances. Do you care to know what Ijudge from?'

'Your judgment cannot have been worth much just now, ' saidWych Hazel, shaking her head. 'But I am willing to hear whatled it astray. '

'What led it, --not astray, --was your calm declining of all buttrue words of service. '

'O, had you gone back _there?_' she said. 'I think it takes verylittle philosophy to decline what one does not want. '

'Evidently. But how came you not to want what everybody elsewants? There is the philosophy, you see. If you bring allthings down to bare truth, you will be Diogenes in his tubpresently. '

' "Bare truth!" '--said the girl. 'How people say that, as iftruth were only a lay figure!'

'But think how disagreeable truth would often be, if it werenot draped! Could you stand it? I beg pardon! I mean, not you, but other people!'

'I _have_ stood it pretty often, ' said the girl with a gravegesture of her head. 

'Impossible! But did you believe that it was truth?'

'Too self-evident to be doubted!'

Stuart laughed, again with a very unfeigned tribute ofpleasure or admiration in his face. 'It is a disagreeabletruth, ' said he, 'that that is not a good sandwich. Permit meto supply its place with something else. Here is cake, andnothing beside that I can see; will you have a piece of cake?It is said to be a feminine taste. '

'No, not any cake, ' said Wych Hazel, her eyes searching thebrook shadows. 'But I will have another sandwich, Mr. Nightingale--if there is one. At least, if there is more thanone!'

'Ah, ' said Stuart, 'you shall have it, and you shall not knowthe state of the basket. Those two people have so much to talkabout, they have no time to eat!' And he took another sandwichhimself. 

'Is that old woman in the cottage a friend of yours?'

'I never saw her before the other day. '

'She lost no time! A little garrulous, isn't she? I madeacquaintance there one day when I went in to light a cigar. Ihave a mind to ask you to give me the distinction I am readyto claim, of being your oldest acquaintance in these parts. Ithink I shall claim it yet. Let me look at the state of yourhook. '

They dropped their lines in the brook again, but no fish werecaught, and fish might cleverly have run away with their baitseveral times without being found out. The conversation waslively for some time. Stuart had sense and was amusing, andhad roamed about the world enough to have a great deal to say. The pair were not agreeably interrupted after half an hour byMme. Lasalle, who discovered that Wych Hazel was fishing whereshe could get nothing, and brought her down the brook to theclose neighbourhood of Miss Powder, where Stuart's attentionshad to be divided. But so the two girls had a chance to seesomething of each other; a chance which Miss Powder improvedwith manifest satisfaction. She was a wax-Madonna sort ofbeauty, with a sweet face, fair, pure, placid, but eithersomewhat impassive or quite self-contained in its character. Her figure was good, her few words showed her not wanting insense or breeding. 

Wych Hazel was by this time far enough out of the reserve offirst meetings to let the exhilarating June air and sunshinedo their work, and her voice, never raised beyond a prettynote, was ready with laugh and word and repartee. Now studyingher hook, now questioning Miss Powder, now answering Mr. Nightingale, and then seriously devoted to her fishing, --sheshewed the absolute sport of her young joyous nature, a thingcharming in itself, even without so piquant a setting. It wasno great wonder that a gentleman now and then took ground onthe opposite side of the brook, and directed his eyes as ifthe fish would only come from that point of the shore whereMiss Kennedy sat. This happened more and more, as by degreesthe line of fishers was broken and the unskilled orunsuccessful, tired of watching the water, gave it up, andstrolled up the brook to see who had better luck. And so fewfish were the result of the day's sport, so many of thecompany had nothing better to do than to look at what somebodyelse was doing, that by degrees nearly the whole party weregathered around that spot where Wych Hazel had caught thefirst fish. They were relieved, perhaps, that the effort wasover; perhaps the prospect of going home to dinner wasencouraging; certainly the spirits of all the party weregreatly enlivened by something. Mme. Lasalle's ears heard thepleasant sound of voices in full chorus of speech and laughterall the way home. 

It was rather late before Madame's carriage could be orderedto take Miss Kennedy home. Mme. Lasalle herself attended her, and would suffer the attendance of no one else. A young moonwas shedding a delicious light on the Lollard poplars pastwhich Wych Hazel had cantered in the morning. It was an hourto be still an enjoy, and think; but did Mme. Lasalle everthink? She ceased not to talk. And Wych Hazel, after her dayof caressing and petting and admiration, how was she? She hadcaught the first fish; she had been queen of the feast; shehad given the first toast, she had received the first honoursof every eye and ear in the company. Her host and hostess hadlavished all kindness on her; ladies had smiled; andgentlemen, yes, six gentlemen had come down the steps to puther into the carriage. But if she wanted to think, Mme. Lasalle gave her no chance. 

'Where shall you go to church on Sunday, my dear?' she askedon the way. 

'Dr. Maryland's, of course, ma'am. '

'O, that's where we all go, of course; delightful creaturethat he is. And yet he rebukes every single individual thingthat one does. Dear Dr. Maryland, he's so good, he don't seewhat is going in his own family. Do you know, it makes meunhappy when I think of it. But, my dear, that's the verything I wanted to talk to you about, --Miss Powder, you've seenher, aren't you pleased with her?'

'She was very pleasant to me. '

'She is that to everybody, and her mother is a very finewoman. Now, my dear, you will be at your pleasure, seeing yourfriends at Chickaree--couldn't you contrive to bring Dane andAnnabella together again?'

'I?' said Wych Hazel, surprised. 'Why, I do not know how tocontrive things for myself. '

'O! I do not mean anything complicated--that never does well;but you could quite naturally, you know, give themopportunities of seeing each other pleasantly. I think if hesaw her he might come round again and take up his old fancy;and you being a stranger, you know, might do it without theleast difficulty or gaucherie; they would meet quite onneutral ground, for nobody would suspect that you were _au fait_of our country complications. I dare not stir, you see; thatwas the reason I could not invite Dane to our fishing to-day. I knew it wouldn't do. This was my plot for you, that I toldyou about--what do you think? It would be doing a kind thing, and hurting nobody, at any rate. '

It did come to Miss Kennedy's mind that Mr. Rollo was quitecapable of 'contriving' his own situations; but she answeredonly, 'Would it, ma'am?'

'It couldn't do any harm, you know. And you are the veryperson to do it. And then, if your plan should succeed, itwould have another good effect, to put Primrose Maryland insafety. '

If it had been daylight instead of moonlight, Mme. Lasallemight have seen the young face at her side knit itself into avery perplexed state indeed at these words; and the more Hazelthought the deeper she got. 

'It would be quite natural, you know, ' Mme. Lasalle went onafter a pause, 'that a girl like her should be fascinated, andRollo, without meaning to do any harm, would give her causeenough. He _is_ fascinating you know, but he is too cool byhalf. Dr. Maryland, of course, never would see or understandwhat was going on; and Primrose is so sweet and inexperienced. I know her sister was very uneasy about it before Rollo wentaway--so long ago. I fancy his going was partly thanks to hercare. '

Closer and closer came the dark brows together, until bydegrees her extremely fancy-free thoughts took a turn. 'What afuss! what was Mme. Lasalle talking about? "Fascinating, "forsooth!--she should like to see anybody that could fascinateher. ' And so the whole thing grew ludicrous, and she laughed, her soft ringing, girlish laugh. 

'What a pirate he must be, Mme. Lasalle. A true Dane! Do manyof that sort live on shore?'

'Take care!' said the lady in a different tone--'dangers thatare slighted are the first to be run into. '

The carriage stopped at that moment, so Wych Hazel had no needto reply. She watched Mme. Lasalle drive off, took acomprehensive view of the moon for a minute, and thenpirouetting round on the tips of her toes she flashed into thesitting room and favoured Mr. Falkirk with a courtesy profoundenough for her grandmother. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

ENCHANTED GROUND. 

Mr. Falkirk was sitting with the paper in the tea-room atChickaree. A good lamplight gave him every temptation to losehimself in its manifold pages, but somehow the temptationfailed. Mr. Falkirk had been walking the floor for part of theevening; going then to one of the long windows and throwing itopen--there were no mosquitoes at Chickaree--to look out at themoonlight, or perhaps to listen for the sound of wheels; butthe Summer stillness was only marked by the song of insectsand the light stir of leaves, and Mr. Falkirk went back to hismusings. His hand caressed his chin sometimes, in slow andmoody deliberation. No doubt the change was a serious one, from the quiet, unquestioned care of a schoolgirl, to theguardianship of a bright, full-winged butterfly of humanity. That does not half express it. For to the airy uncertainty ofbutterfly motions, his ward certainly added the intenseactivities of a humming bird, and the jealous temper, withoutthe useful proclivities, of a honey bee. I think Mr. Falkirklikened her to all these in his meditations; and his browsknit themselves into a persistent frown as he walked. For allthat, when the wheels of Mme. Lasalle's carriage grated on thegravel sweep, Mr. Falkirk sat down to the table and thenewspaper, and as Wych Hazel opened the door and walked in, Mr. Falkirk looked up sedately. Then his face unbent, a verylittle, but he waited for her to speak. 

'Good evening, my dear Mr. Falkirk!' Mr. Falkirk was notmorose, but he made little answer beyond a smile. 

'I perceive you have been pining for my return, sir, ' saidMiss Hazel advancing airily; 'but why you do not revive when Icome, _that_ puzzles my small wits. Are you overjoyed to see mesafe home, Mr. Falkirk?'

'I wait to be certified of the fact, Miss Hazel. '

She came to a low seat before him, silently crossing her armson her lap. 

'What are the developments of fortune, to-day, Miss Hazel?'said her guardian with a relaxing face. 

'A number of gentlemen, sir, and one fish. Which I caught. There were some ladies, too, but they came less in my way. '

'Um! So I understand you catch all that come in your way?'

'Only the fish, sir. But you should have heard the peoplethereupon! One cried, "Happy fish!"--and another, "Happy MissKennedy!"--And yet I suppose we had both of us known moreecstatic moments. '

'And what is your impression of fishing parties, judging fromthis specimen?'

'O, I was amused, of course. But the brook was delicious. Youknow, it was all new to me, Mr. Falkirk. '

'Like the fairy-tale you wanted?' said her guardian smiling. 

She smiled, too, but her answer was only a sweet, 'Are youglad to see me here, sir?'

'I am glad if you are glad, Miss Hazel. I did not suspect thatany genie or enchanter had got hold of you yet. '

'Only "if, " ' she said to herself. 'I wonder how it feels tohave anybody care for one very much!' But no word of that cameout. 

'Are _you_ glad to get home, Miss Hazel?'

'Yes, sir. The drive was rather stupid. '

'Did you come alone?'

'I had Madame in person, and with her all the unquiet ghostsof the neighbourhood, I should judge, '--added Miss Hazelthoughtfully slipping her bracelets up and down. 

'Scandal, eh?' said Mr. Falkirk. 'And yet the drive wasstupid!'

'Incredible, sir, is it not? But you see, I had been ever solong face to face with the brook!--'

'I do not know that I am fond of scandal, ' said Mr. Falkirk;'and yet I should like to know what particular variety of thatfavourite dish Madame chose to serve you with. And in the meantime, to relieve the dryness of the subject, Miss Hazel, willyou give me a cup of tea?'

She sprang up, and began to busy herself at once with her homeduties, but did not immediately answer his question. Until shecame round to his side, bringing the fragrant and steaming cupof tea, and then apparently thoughts were too much for her, and she broke forth:

'Why don't people marry each other if they want to, Mr. Falkirk?' she said, standing still to put the question. 'Andif they _don't_ want to, why do not other people let themalone?'

Mr. Falkirk shot one of his glances at the questioner fromunder his dark brows, and sipped his tea. 

'There might be a variety of answers given to your firstquery, Miss Hazel. People that want to marry each other areproverbially subject to hindrances--from the days of fairytales down to our own. '

'They always do it in fairy tales, however. '

'They very often do it in real life, ' said Mr. Falkirkgravely. 

'Well, sir?--then why cannot they be left to take care ofthemselves, either way? It is such fudge!' she said, walkingback to her place and energetically dropping sugar in her owncup. 

'Who is Mme. Lasalle trying to take care of?'

'Me, last, sir. Warning me that things laughed at becomedangerous. In which case I shall lead a tolerably risky life. '

'Who is Mme. Lasalle warning you against?' demanded Mr. Falkirk hastily. 

'My dear sir, how excited you are over poor Mme. Lasalle! Ipresumed to laugh at some of her fancy sketches, and then ofcourse she rapped me over the knuckles. Or meant it!' saidMiss Hazel, slightly lifting her eyebrows. 

'But I observe you do not answer me, my dear. '

'No, sir, --if you will allow me to use my own judgment, I thinkI had better not. Let me have your cup, Mr. Falkirk please, and I'll put more sugar in this time. '

Mr. Falkirk finished his tea and made no more observations. Hewas silent and thoughtful, --moody, his ward might have fanciedhim, --while the tea-things were cleared away, and afterwardspored over the newspaper and did not read it. At last, whensilence had reigned some time, he lifted his head up andturned round to where Wych Hazel sat. 

'I have been considering a difficulty, Miss Hazel; will youhelp me out?'

'Gladly, sir, if I can. ' She had been sitting in musingidleness, going over the day perhaps, for now and then herlips curled and parted, with various expressions. 

'We have come, you are aware, Miss Hazel, in the course of ourprogress, to the Enchanted Region;--where things are not whatthey seem; jewels lie hid in the soil for the finding, andtreasures are at the top of the hill; but the conditions ofsuccess may be the stopping of the ears, you know; and lovelyladies by the way may turn out to be deadly enchantresses. How, in this time of dangers and possibilities, can my wisdomavail for your inexperience? that is my question. Can you tellme?'

'Truly sir, ' she answered with laugh, 'to get yourself out ofa difficulty, you get me in! My inexperience is totally in thedark as to what your wisdom means. '

'Precisely, ' said Mr. Falkirk; 'so how shall we do? How shallI take care of you?'

'You have always known how, sir, ' she answered with a gratefulflash of her brown eyes. 

'When I had only a little Wych Hazel to take care of, and thecare depended on myself, ' Mr. Falkirk said, with just anindication of a sigh stifled somewhere. 'Now I can't get alongwithout your co�peration, my dear. '

'Am I so much harder to manage than of old, sir? That speaksill for me. '

'My dear, I believe I remarked that we are upon Enchantedground. It does not speak ill for you, that you may not know abewitched pumpkin from a good honest piece of carriage maker'swork. '

'No, sir. Is it the pumpkin variety for which Mr. Rollo is tofind mice?'

'I have taken care of your affairs at least, ' said Mr. Falkirkgravely. 'There is nothing about _them_ that is not sound. Iwish other people did not know it so well!' he muttered. 

'It is only poor little me, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Never mind, sir, --in fairy tales one always comes out somehow. But I amsure I ought to be "sound" too, if care would do it. '

'Will you help me, Hazel?' said Mr. Falkirk, bending towardsher and speaking her name as in the old childish days. 

'Gladly, sir, --if you will shew me how. And if it is not toohard, ' she said with a pretty look, well answering to herwords. 

'I wish you had a mother!' said Mr. Falkirk abruptly. And heturned back to the table, and for a little while that was allthe answer he made; while Wych Hazel sat waiting. But then hebegan again. 

'As I remarked before, Miss Hazel, we are come upon bewitchedground in our search after fortune. You spoke of two classesof people a while ago, if you remember--people that want tomarry each other and people that _don't_. '

'Yes sir. Which are the most of?'

'_Being_ upon bewitched ground, it might happen to you as toothers--mind, not this year, perhaps, nor next; but it mighthappen--that you should find yourself in one of these two, asyou intimate, large classes. Suppose it; could you, having nomother, put confidence in an old guardian?'

Very grave, very gentle Mr. Falkirk's manner and tone were;considerate of her, and very humble concerning himself. 

'Why, Sir!'--she looked at him, the roses waking up in hercheeks as she caught his meaning more fully. Then her eyesfell again, and she said softly--'How do you mean, Mr. Falkirk?There is nobody in the world whom I trust as I do you. '

'I have never a doubt of that, my dear. But to make the trustavail you or me, practically, could you let me know the stateof affairs?'

She moved restlessly in her chair, drawing a long breath ortwo. 

'You say such strange things, sir. I do assure you, Mr. Falkirk, I am ensconced in the very middle of one of thoseclasses. And that not the dangerous one, ' she added with alaugh, though the flushes came very frankly. 'If _that_ is whatyou are afraid of. '

'You are in about as dangerous a class as any I know, ' saidMr. Falkirk, dryly; 'the class of people that everybody wantsto marry. Miss Hazel, you are known to be the possessor of avery large propriety. '

'Am I, sir? And is that what makes me so attractive? I thoughtthat there must be some explanation of so sweeping acompliment from your lips. '

A provoked little smile came upon Mr. Falkirk's lips, but theygrew grave again. 

'So, Miss Hazel, how are you to know the false magician fromthe true knight?'

'He must be a poor knight who would leave the trouble on myhands, ' said the girl, with her young ideas strong upon her. 'If he does not prove himself, Mr. Falkirk, "I'll none ofhim!" '

'How shall a man prove to you that he does not want Chickareeand your money, my dear?'

'Instead of me. I think--I should know, ' she answered slowly, so much absorbed in the question that she almost forgot itspersonal bearing. 'Mr. Falkirk, false and true cannot be justalike?'

'Remember that in both cases so much is true. The desire towin your favour, and therefore the effort to please, areundoubted. '

'Mr. Falkirk, you must be the assayer! Suppose you tell me nowabout all these people here, to begin with. I have not seenmuch that reminded me of magic _yet_, ' she said with a curl ofher lips. 

'What people?' said Mr. Falkirk, hastily. 

'What people? Oh, I forgot--you were not at Mme. Lasalle's to-day. But I thought you knew everybody here before we came. '

'I shall not be with you everywhere, ' Mr. Falkirk went on;'that would suit neither me nor you. The safe plan, MissHazel, would be, when you think anybody is seeking your goodgraces, to ask me whether he has gained mine. I will concludenothing of _your_ views in the matter from any such confidence. But I will ask you to trust me thus far, --and afterwards. '

'You mean, sir, whether--he has gained mine or not?'

Mr. Falkirk answered this with one of his rare smiles, shrewdand sweet, benignant, and yet with a play of something likemirth in the dark, overhung eyes. It was a look whichrecognized all the difficulty of the situation and thesubject, for both parties. 

'I am afraid the thing is unmanageable, my dear, ' he said atlast. 'You will rush up the hill without stopping your ears, after some fancied "golden water" at the top; and I shall comeafter and find you turned into some stone or other. And thenyou will object very much to being picked up and put in mypocket. I see it all before me. '

She laughed a little, but shyly; not quite at ease upon thesubject even with him. Then rose up, gathering on her arm thelight wraps she had thrown down when she came in. 

'I must have been always a great deal of trouble!' she said. 'But I do not want to give you more. Mr. Falkirk, wont youkiss me and say good night to me, as you used to do in oldtimes? That is better than any number of fastenings to yourpocket, to keep me from jumping out. '

Once it had been his habit, as she said; now long disused. Hedid not at once answer; he, too, was gathering up a paper ortwo and a book from the table. But then he came where shestood, and taking her hand stooped and kissed her forehead. Hedid not then say good night; he kissed her and went. And thebarring and bolting and locking up for the night were donewith a more hurried step than usual. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

COURT IN THE WOODS. 

'Miss Wych--my dear--all in brown?' said Mrs. Bywank doubtfully, as her young charge was arraying herself one morning for thewoodcraft. Some rain and some matters of business had delayedthe occasion, and it was a good week since the fishing party. 

'Harmonious, isn't it?' said Hazel. 

'But, my dear--it looks--so sombre!' said Mrs. Bywank. 

'Sombre?' said the girl, facing round upon her with suchtinges of cheek and sparkles of eye that Mrs. Bywank laughed, too, and gave in. 

'If it puts Mr. Falkirk to sleep, I can wake him up, ' saidWych Hazel, busy with her loopings. 'And as for Mr. Rollo'--

'Mr. Rollo!--is he to be of the party?' said the housekeeper. 

'I suppose, --really, --he is _the_ party, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Mr. Falkirk and I scarcely deserve so festive a name byourselves. '

'And what were you going to say to Mr. Rollo?'

'O nothing much. He may go to sleep if he chooses--and can, 'added Miss Wych, for the moment looking her name. But the oldhousekeeper looked troubled. 

'My dear, ' she began--'I wouldn't play off any of my pranksupon Mr. Rollo, if I were you. '

'What is the matter with Mr. Rollo, that his life must beinsured?' said Wych, gravely confronting her old friend withsuch a face that Mrs. Bywank was again betrayed into anunwilling laugh. But she returned to the charge. 

'I wouldn't, Miss Wych! Gentlemen don't understand suchthings. '

'I do not think Mr. Rollo seems dull, ' said the girl, with aface of grave reflection. 'Now, Byo--what are you afraid Ishall do?' she went on, suddenly changing her tone, and layingboth hands on her old friend's shoulders. 

'Why, nothing, Miss Wych, dear!--I mean, '--Mrs. Bywankhesitated. 

'You mean a great deal, I see, ' said Wych Hazel. 'But do notyou see, Byo, I cannot hang out false colours? There is nosort of use in my pretending not to be wild, because I _am_. '

Mrs. Bywank looked up in the young face, --loving and anxious. 

'Miss Wych, ' she said, 'what men of sense disapprove, youngladies in general had better not do. '

'O, I cannot follow you there, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Suppose, forinstance, Mr. Rollo (I presume you mean him by "men of sense")took a kink against my brown dress?'

Not very likely, Mrs. Bywank thought, as she looked at thefigure before her. If Hazel had been a wood nymph a week agoshe was surely the loveliest of brown fairies to-day. Butstill the old housekeeper sighed. 

'My dear, I know the world, ' she began. 

'And I don't, ' said Hazel. 'I am so glad! Never fear, Byo, forto-day at least I have got Mr. Falkirk between me andmischief. And there he is this minute, wanting his breakfast. '

But to judge by the housekeeper's face as she looked after heryoung mistress down the stairs, that barrier was not quite allthat could be wished. However, if impenetrability were enoughfor a barrier, Mr. Falkirk could have met any inquisitionsthat morning. 

He came to breakfast as usual; but this morning breakfastsimply meant business. He ate his toast and read hisnewspaper. With the ending of breakfast came Rollo. And theparty presently issued forth into the woods which were to bethe scene of the day's work. 

The woods of Chickaree were old and fine. For many yearsundressed and neglected, they had come at last to a ratherrampant state of anarchy and misrule. Feebler, though perhapsnot less promising members were oppressed by the overtoppinggrowth of the stronger; there was an upstart crowd of youngwood; and the best intentioned trees were hurting each other'sefforts, because of want of room. It was a lovely wildernessinto which the party plunged, and the June morning sat in thetops of the trees and laughed down at them. Human nature couldhardly help laughing back in return, so utterly joyous weresun and sky, birds and insects and trees altogether. They wentfirst to the wilderness through which Rollo and Wych Hazel hadmade their way on foot one morning; lying near to the houseand in the immediate region of its owner's going and coming. Herein were great white oaks lifting their heads into greatersilver pines. Here were superb hemlocks threatened by ausurping growth of young deciduous trees. There were dogwoodsthrowing themselves across everything; and groups of maplesand beeches struggling with each other. As yet the wild growthwas in many instances beautiful; the damage it was doing wasbeyond the reach of any but an experienced eye. Here and therea cross in white chalk upon the trunk of a tree was to beseen. 

The three walked slowly down through this leafy wild till theywere lost in it. 

'Now, ' said Rollo to the little lady in brown, 'what do youthink ought to be done here?'

'I should like to make ways through al this, if I could. Truewildwood ways, I mean, --that one must look for and hardly find;with here and there a great clearance that should seem to havemade itself. What sort of a track would a hurricane make here, for instance?'

'A hurricane!' said Mr. Falkirk, facing round upon his ward. 

'Rather indiscriminate in its action, ' observed Rollo. 

'The clearance a hurricane makes in a forest, ' Mr. Falkirkwent on, 'is generally in the tree tops. The ground is left awreck. '

'Any system of clearing that I know, brings the trees to theground, ' said Wych Hazel. 'But I mean--I like the woods dearlyas they are, Mr. Falkirk; but _if_ I meddled with them, then Iwould have something to shew for it. I would have thoughtsinstead of the trees, and vistas full of visions. If anythingis cut here, it ought to be in a broad hurricane track rightdown to the West, where

"The wind shall seek them vainly, and the sunGaze on the vacant space for centuries. "

I do not like fussing with such woods. '

'What thought is expressed by a wide system of devastation?'asked Rollo, facing her. 

'Power. Do not you like power, Mr. Rollo?' she said with ademure arch of her eyebrows. 

Rollo bit his lips furtively but vigorously, and then demandedto know if Napoleon was her favourite character in history. 

'No, ' said Wych Hazel--'he did not know what to do with hispower when he had it. A very common mistake, Mr. Rollo, youwill find. '

'Don't make it, ' said he, smiling. 

'What are you talking about?' said Mr. Falkirk, turning roundupon them. 'Miss Hazel, we are here in obedience to yourwishes. What do you propose to do, now we are here? Do youknow what needs doing?'

'What does, Mr. Falkirk?--in your opinion?' She came close tohim, linking her hands upon his arm. 'Tell me first, and thenI will tell you. '

'There must be a great many trees cut, Miss Hazel; they havegrown up to crowd upon each other very mischievously. And alarge quantity of saplings and underbrush must be clearedaway. You see where I have begun to mark trees for the axe. '

'Truly, sir, I do! Mr. Falkirk, that bent oak is a beauty. '

'It will never make a fine tree. And the oak beside it will. '

'Well--it is to be congratulated, ' said Miss Hazel, pensively. 'But what is to become of my poor woods, at that rate? Thereis an elm with a branch too many on one side; and a birchkeeping house lovingly with a hemlock. If "woodcraft" meansonly such line-and-rule decimation, Mr. Falkirk--'

'I don't know what _you_ mean by woodcraft, my dear. I mean, taking care of the woods. '

'And _that_ means, ' added Rollo, 'an intimate knowledge of theirnatures, and an affectionate care for their interests; asympathetic, loving, watchful insight and forecast. '

Wych Hazel gave him a little nod of approval. 

'Don't you see, sir?' she went on eagerly. 'You _must_ have abent tree now and then, because it is twice as interesting asthe straight ones. And if you cut down all the bushes, Mr. Falkirk, you will clear _me_ out, ' she added, laughing up in hisface. 

'You might grant her so much, Mr. Falkirk, ' said the othergentleman. 'A bent tree now and then; and all her namesakes. Certainly they ought to stand. '

M. Falkirk's answer was to take a few steps to a large whitepine tree, and make a huge dash of white chalk upon its broadbole. Then he stepped back to look again. Action was more inhis way than discussion to-day. Rollo began to get into thespirit of the thing; and suggested and pointed out here andthere what ought to come down and what ought to be left, andthe reasons, with a quick, clear insight and decision to whichMr. Falkirk invariably assented, and almost invariably insilence. Deeper and deeper into the wood they worked theirway; where the shade lay dark upon the ferns and the air wascool and spicy with fragrance, and then where the sunlightcame down and played at the trees' foot. For a while WychHazel kept pace with their steps; advising, countermanding, putting in her word generally. But by degrees she quitted themarking work, and began to flit about by herself; plunging herlittle fingers deep into moss beds, mimicking the squirrels, and--after her old fashion--breaking out from time to time intoscraps of song. Now Mr. Falkirk's ears were delighted with theringing chorus:

'Wooed and married and a'--'Wooed and married and a';'Wasna she vera weel aff'That was wooed, and married, and a'?

Then a complete hush seemed to betoken sudden recollection onthe singer's part; that was quite too private and confidentiala matter to be trilled out at the top of one's voice. Presently again, slow and clear like the tinkle of a streamletdown the rocks, came the words of Aileen Asthore:

'Even the way winds'Come to my cave and sigh; they often bring'Rose leaves upon their wing, 'To strew'Over my earth, and leaves of violet blue;'In sooth, leaves of all kinds. '

It was a very sweet kind of telegraphing; but the twogentlemen, deep in the merits of a burly red oak, took nonotice how suddenly the song broke off, nor that none othercame after it. And when at last they bethought themselves ofthe young lady truant, and stopped to listen where she mightbe, they heard a murmur of tongues very different indeed fromthe silvery tones of Wych Hazel. And somewhat hastilyretracing their steps, came presently into distant view if anundoubted little court, holden easily in the woods. 

Miss Kennedy, uplifted on a grey rock, was the centre thereof, and around her some six or eight gentlemen paid their devoirsin most courtier-like fashion. On the moss at her feet lay Mr. Kingsland, with no less a companion than Mr. Simms--blackwhiskers, white Venetian collar and all. Three or four others, whom Mr. Falkirk did not know, were lounging and laughing andpaying attentions of unmistakable reality; while StuartNightingale, who had come up on horseback, stood nearest ofall, leaning against the rock, his hat off, his horse's bridleupon his arm. 

The consequence of this revelation was a temporary suspensionof woodcraft, properly so called; another sort of craft, itmay possibly have occurred to the actors therein, coming intorequisition. Mr. Falkirk at once went forward and joined thegroup around the rock. More slowly Rollo's movements also intime brought him there. They could see, as they came nearer, afine example of the power of feminine adaptation. Was this thegirl to whom Mr. Falkirk had discoursed the other night? Howswiftly and easily she was taking her place! And though alittle downcast and blushing now and then, beneath the subtlepower of eyes and tongue, yet evidently all the whilegathering up the reins and learning to drive her four in hand. Over the two at her feet she was openingly queening italready; over the others--what did Wych Hazel see concerningthem, that curled her lips in their soft lines of mischief?Some exquisite hot-house flowers lay in her lap, and adelicate little basket by her side held strawberries--red, white and black--such as the neglected Chickaree gardens hadnever seen. 

'Why, there is your venerable guardian, Miss Kennedy!' drawledout Mr. Kingsland, as Mr. Falkirk came in sight. 'Howcharming! Patriarchal. And who is that beyond?--Dane Rollo!--asI am a Christian!'

'Evidently then, somebody else, ' said Mr. May. 'Who is it, Nightingale?'

But Mr. Nightingale knew his business better than to reply;and Dane presently spoke for himself. It was the Dane of theMountain House, courteous and careless; no fellow of thesegentlemen, nor yet at all like Mr. Falkirk, a guard upon them. Mr. Falkirk's brows had unmistakeably drawn together at sightof the new comers; Rollo stood on the edge of the group, indifferent and at ease, after his wonted fashion in generalsociety. 

'You are making almost your first acquaintance with thesebeautiful woods?' Stuart remarked, to the little mistress ofthem, breaking the lull that Mr. Falkirk's arrival hadproduced. 

'How old is your own, sir?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'I--really, I don't know--I have shot here a little; before youcame, you know; when it was all waste ground. '

'I remember getting lost in them once, when I was a child, 'said Wych Hazel, --'I think that was my first acquaintance. Itwas just before we went away. And Mr. Falkirk found me andcarried me home. Do you remember, sir?'

But Mr. Falkirk was oblivious of such passages of memory inthe present company. He gave no token of hearing. Instead, hecruelly asked Mr. Kingsland how farming got on this summer?And Mr. Kingsland, by way of returning good for evil, gave Mr. Falkirk a shower of reports and statistics which might havebeen true--they were so unhesitating. Through which rain offacts Mr. Falkirk could just catch the sound of words from Mr. May, the sense of which fell upon Miss Kennedy's ear alone. Until Rollo at her side broke the course of things. 

'I beg your pardon! Miss Kennedy, ' (in an aside) 'I seePrimrose and her father coming. Shall I stop them?'

'Why, of course!' she said, springing to her feet, 'What aquestion!'

The two recumbent gentlemen rose at once. 

'Do you always wear wildwood tints, Miss Kennedy?' asked Mr. Simms, looking up admiringly at the slim figure. 'I thoughtthe other day that green was matchless, but to-day--'

'Yes, ' said Wych Hazel, 'but if you would just please standout of my way, and let me jump down. I want to see Dr. Maryland. '

The gentleman laughed and retreated, and disregarding the halfdozen offered hands, Hazel sprang from her rock and stood outa step or two, shading her eyes and looking down the woodland, where Rollo had disappeared to meet the approaching carriage. The thicket was so close just here that the carriage roadthough not far off was invisible. Down below Rollo had caughta glimpse of the well known little green buggy creeping up thehill; and in another few minutes its occupants appeared comingthrough the trees. Wych Hazel had hold of their hands almostbefore they had sight of her. 

'I thought you had given me up, Dr. Maryland, ' she said, 'andwere never coming to see me at all!'

'Two days, ' said the Doctor benignly, 'two fair days my dear, since we took breakfast together. I have not been verydelinquent. Though it seems I am not the first here. Goodmorning, Mr. Kingsland!--how do you do, Mr. Burr?--how do youdo, Mr. Sutphen?--Mr. May? Are you holding an assembly here, mydear?' And by that time Dr. Maryland had worked round to Mr. Falkirk; and the hands of the two gentlemen closed in anearnest prolonged clasp; after the approved method gentlemenhave of expressing their estimation of each other. 

'Miss Kennedy is pretty sure to "hold" whoever comes near her, sir, ' said Mr. Burr. 

'I can certify that the "assembly" is quite powerless, Doctor--if it will be any relief to your mind, ' said Mr. Kingsland. While Hazel, with Prim's hand in hers, was eagerly speakingher pleasure. 

'What are you doing?' said Primrose under her breath andlooking in some astonishment at the gathering. 

'O, nothing--talking, --they wanted to know how I got home, ' saidWych, an amused look betraying itself. Then quitting Primrose, she went forward a little to receive the farewell addresses ofseveral gentlemen who preferred to see Miss Kennedy alone. Thegroup began to clear away. Prim's eye watched her, in hergraceful, pretty self-possession, as she met and returned theparting salutation; and then went over by some instinct towhere another eye was watching her too, with a contentedsparkle in its intentness. That was only a second, though. Rollo had no mind to have all the world know what he wasthinking about; and even as her glance found him, his turnedaway. The strangers being at last disposed of, those remainingbegan a slow procession towards the house. But a parting wordof Mr. Nightingale's must be noted. 

'Any chance for a ride to the wood to-morrow?' he said, withtones so modulated that he thought his words safe. And sheanswered:

'O, my horses have not come. There will be little riding forme yet a while. '

'And these are the Chickaree woods?' said Dr. Maryland, asthey walked on. 'How beautiful they are! Are you very happy, Hazel, in the hope of being the mistress of all this?'

'Why I thought--I call myself the mistress now, sir. Is it anuncertainty dependent on my good behaviour?' she said with alaugh. 

'You know you are not of age, my dear; but I suppose Mr. Falkirk gives you the essentials of dominion. Do you feel athome yet?'

'Very much! You know, sir, I have just a little remembrance ofthe old time--when mamma was here--to begin with. But howheedless I am!' she said, abruptly putting the little basketwhich had been swinging from her hand into the hands of Dr. Maryland. 'There, sir, --will you take some refreshment by theway?' Then turning to Primrose, Miss Kennedy laid the fragrantweight of hot-house flowers upon her. 

'Are these from your garden?' said Primrose, somewhatbewildered. While Dr. Maryland, putting his fingers withoutscruple in among the black and white strawberries, asked in anapproving tone of voice: 'Have you been picking theseyourself, my dear?'

'I--picked them up, sir, ' said Hazel with the laugh in hervoice. 'Not off the vines, however. They are hothouseflowers, ' she answered to Primrose. 'When my houses are inorder you shall have them every day. '

'They are very good, ' said Dr. Maryland gravely, eating away. 'Where did you get them, my dear?'

'Mr. May brought them, sir, ' said the girl, looking down now, and walking straight on. 

'Mr. May!' echoed Dr. Maryland. 'How comes Mr. May to bebringing you strawberries? And those flowers too?' glancingover at Primrose's full hands. 

'No, sir, Mr. Burr brought the flowers. '

'You are a fearful man for asking questions, sir, ' said Rollo, with a flash of fun in his face. 

'Questions?' said the doctor, picking out the blackstrawberries abstractedly, --'I've a right to ask her questions. The strawberries are good!--but I wish Mr. May had not broughtthem. '

'So would he, if he knew you were eating them, sir. '

'I've eaten enough of them, ' said Dr. Maryland, seeming torecollect himself. 'They are very good; they are the fineststrawberries I have seen. ' And he handed the basket to Mr. Falkirk, who immediately passed it over to Rollo. Rollobalanced the basket on his fingers and carried it so, but putnever a finger inside. 

'I am afraid your head will be turned, Hazel, my dear, ' saidDr. Maryland, 'if the adulation has begun so soon. What willyou do when you are a little better known?'

'Ah!' said Hazel, with an indescribable intonation, 'ask Mr. Falkirk that, Dr. Maryland. Poor Mr. Falkirk! he is learningevery day of his life what it is to know me "a little better!" '

'I can imagine that, ' said Dr. Maryland, quite gravely. 'Mydear, what a beautiful old house you have!'

The June day, however, was so alluring that they could notmake up their minds to go inside. On the basket chairs in thelow verandah they sat down, and looked and talked. Primrosedid not talk much--she was quiet; nor Mr. Falkirk--he wastaciturn; the burden of talk was chiefly borne by Wych Hazeland the Doctor. In a genial, enjoying, sympathising mood, Dr. Maryland came out in a way uncommon for him! asked questionsabout the woods, the property, the old house; and delightedhimself in the beauty that was abroad in earth and sky. 

'My dear, ' he said at last to Wych Hazel, 'you have all thatthis world can give you. What are you going to do with it?'

'Have I?' she said, rather wistfully. 'I thought I was lookingfor something more. What could I do with it, sir? You know Mr. Falkirk manages everything as well as can be, now. '

'Are you looking for something more?' said Dr. Maryland, tenderly. 'What more are you looking for, Hazel?'

'Suppose I should tell you I do not quite know, myself, sir?'

'I should say, my dear, the best thing would be to find out. '

'I shall know when I find it, ' said the girl. 'If I find it. '

' "To him that hath shall be given!" One of the best ways, Hazel, to find more is to make the best use of what we have. '

The girl left her seat, and kneeling down by Dr. Maryland, laid her hand on his shoulder. 

'I mean, ' she said, dropping her voice so that only the doctorcould hear, 'not more of what people call much; but something, where I have nothing. To belong to somebody--to have somebodybelong to me. '

'Ah, my dear, ' said the doctor, wistfully, 'I am afraidPrimrose wouldn't do. '

'I have wanted her ever since she took me in out of the rain, and did not wonder how I got wet, ' said Hazel laughing butdropping her voice again. 

'If you had her, my dear, you would then want something orsomebody else. '

'Maybe you do not understand me, sir, ' she said, a littleeager to be understood, and pouring out confidences in a wayas rare with her as it was complimentary to her hearer. 'I amnot complaining of anybody. I know Mr. Falkirk is very fond ofme--but he likes to keep me off at a respectful distance. Onlya few nights ago, I was feeling particularly good, for me, andrather lonely, and I just asked him to kiss me for good night--and it made him so glum that he has hardly opened his lips tome ever since!' said Wych Hazel in an aggrieved voice. 

'Perhaps Mr. Falkirk has something upon his mind, my dear!'said Dr. Maryland, with raised eyebrows and an uncommonexpression of _fun_ playing about the lines of his mouth. 'It isnot always safe to conclude that coincident facts have arelation of cause and effect. '

'No--' said the girl, 'I suppose not. But I stood there all bymyself and heard him turn the keys and rattle the bolts--andthen I ran upstairs to find Mrs. Bywank, --and of course shecouldn't speak for a toothache. And then I felt as if therewas nobody in all the world--in all my world--but me!'

Dr. Maryland looked tenderly upon the young girl beside him, yet uncomprehendingly. Probably his peculiar masculine naturefurnished him with no clue to her essentially feminine viewsof things. 

'I dare say, my dear, ' he said, --'I dare say! The best cure forsuch a state of feeling hat I know, would be to begin livingfor other people. You will find the world grow populous verysoon. And one other cure, '--he added, his eye going away fromWych Hazel into an abstracted gaze towards the outer world;--'when you can say, "Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and thereis none upon earth that I desire beside Thee. " '

The little hand upon his shoulder stirred, --was lifted, andlaid down again. Somehow she comprehended him better than hedid her. Then with a sudden motion Hazel took off a luminousbracelet--one of the three she always wore, and laid it acrossDr. Maryland's hand. 

'Did mamma ever shew you that, sir?' she said. 'She had itmade just for me. And then my wrist was so small that it wouldgo twice round. '

It was a string of twelve stones, all different, all cut andset alike; each long parallelogram fitting rather closely tothe next on either side; the hues--opaque, translucent, clouded--flashed and gleamed with every imaginable variation ofcolour and shade. The doctor looked at it in silence. Thenspoke. 

'What did she mean by it, Hazel, my dear? I do not catch theinterpretation. '

She turned it a little in his hand, until the light fell onthe gold framing beneath the gems, and Dr. Maryland could readthe fine graven tracery:--"The first, a jasper. "

'Ah!' he exclaimed with new interest, 'I see. ' And he took upthe chain of stones and turned it over and over, rather passedit through his fingers like a rosary, studying the stones andmurmuring the names of them. 

' "The wall of the city had twelve foundations, " ' he said atlast, giving the chain back, with a look of light and lovecombined; ' "and in the wall were twelve gates, and eachseveral gate was one pearl; and the streets were gold, likeunto transparent glass, and nothing that defileth shall by anymeans enter there, but those that are washed in the blood ofthe Lamb. " I like that, my dear. '

His look made all the application his words did not. Presentlyhe rose up and asked Wych Hazel if he might go into herlibrary? A book was there, he thought, that he wanted to lookat. Hazel guided him in, but then he dismissed her and shewent back to Primrose on the verandah. Slowly back, --softlyfingering her bright stones, soberly thinking to herself themotto upon the clasp:--"In hope of eternal life. "

'What were you talking to papa about?' said Primrose, puttinga loving hand into Wych Hazel's. The two other gentlemen werespeaking together at a little distance. 'I thought you lookedtroubled; but I could not hear, for Duke was talking to me. '

'Dr. Maryland should have been the troubled one, part of thetime, ' said Hazel, bringing her other hand upon Prim's, 'for Iasked him to give you to me. '

'What would become of him and Duke?' said Primrose smiling. 

'Really, Mr. Rollo did not enter into my calculations!' saidWych Hazel, coming back with a rebound into her everyday self. 'Does he require much time and care bestowed upon him?'

'Don't you think all men do?'

'I do not know all men, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Mr. Falkirk doesnot get it. But does Mr. Rollo _live_ at your house?'

'Why of course, when he's here. He always did, you know. AndO, Duke helps me. It is twice as easy to take care of papa, when I have him in the house, too. But Hazel, I am going toget _you_ to help me, --in another way--if I can. '

'What way?' said Hazel. 'Then if Mr. Rollo is so helpful, hemight take care of Dr. Maryland altogether, and you could cometo take care of me. '

Primrose laughed. 

'O men cannot get along as women can--don't you know that?' shesaid. 'No, I want you for my Sunday school. What's thematter?'"

These last words were caused by a diversion of the speaker'sthoughts. For she had noticed, while speaking, that a man hadcome in haste to the place where the two gentlemen werestanding; and that after a very few words Mr. Falkirk hadthrown on his hat and gone down the grassy slope with themessenger; while Rollo had turned as suddenly and was comingtowards them. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

SELF-CONTROL. 

Rollo came up with the grave, business look of one who hasserious matters on hand. 

'A messenger has come, ' he said, speaking to Wych Hazel, 'tosay that one of the men has met with an accident. '

He could see how the shock struck her, but she made noexclamation, only her hands met in a tight clasp as they haddone in the woods' fire. She faced him silently, waiting morewords. 

'I don't know yet how bad it is. I am going to see; and I willcome back to you by and by. '

'Where?--and who?' she asked. 

'In the wood-cutting. It is Reo. ' He spoke as a man who speaksunwillingly. 

Hazel gave a little cry at that, and turning suddenly flewinto the house. The next thing was the flutter of her lightfoot outside among the trees. But, overtaken the next minute, she was stopped by a hand on her arm and held fast. HoweverDane spoke very gently. 

'Miss Hazel!--you had better not go yourself. '

'I am going, ' she said, struggling to disengage herself. 'Mr. Rollo!--'

'Stop, ' he said gently and steadily. 'Miss Hazel--I shall notlet you go. '

In her excitement she hardly took in more than the mere factof his words, and dropping everything she had in her hand, Hazel took hold of his fingers and began to loosen them withher own, which had a good deal of will in them, of they weresmall. The immediate effect was to secure the imprisonment ofboth her hands in a clasp that was stronger than her's. Ihardly think Rollo disliked it, for he smiled a little as hespoke:

'Listen, ' he said, --'Miss Hazel, I shall not let you go downyonder. I will bring you news as soon as I can--but you muststay here with Rosy. Don't you see?' he added very gently, ashe turned about and walked toward the house with her, puttingone little hand on his arm while other hand still held itfast, --'don't you see, you could do nothing just yet? And Itake this upon myself--I shall not let you go. You must stayhere and take care of Rosy, till I can come back to you. '

'I will not, ' she said, stopping short again. 'I will go! Itis my right! Where should a woman be? And--Oh!' she cried witha change of tone, 'it is Reo!--And he will want things--and hewill want me!'

'Not yet, ' said Rollo; 'it is not time for either yet. Heshall want nothing, I promise you, that he ought to have. Butyou must be good and stay with Rosy. '

He spoke as a brother might speak to a little sister of whomhe was very fond, or--brothers do not often take just thattone. Primrose, looking on, knew very well what it meant. WychHazel was in far too much commotion of mind to discernanything. She had yielded to superior strength, --which indeedshe could not gracefully resist; and then there came over herheart such a flood of grief, that for the last few steps shewas quite passive; though giving no sign but the quiver thattouched her mouth, and went and came again. But at Rollo'slast words she drew herself up defiantly. 

'Do you expect to stand here and hold me all day?' she said. 

'No?' he said gravely, now meeting her look, --'I expect you tohave self-control and womanly patience, and to let me go anddo my part, until it is time for you to do yours. Will you?'

'I shall do what I think best. The question is none of yours, Mr. Rollo. Self-control!--I have a little!' she said under herbreath. 

'Do you mean to keep me here, ' he said gravely and quietly, 'when I may be so much wanted elsewhere? You would be in theway there, but I am needed. Still, you are my first care. MustI stay here to take care of you? or will you promise me to begood and wait quietly with Primrose, until I bring you word?'

His eye went to Primrose as he ended, in a mute appeal forhelp. And Prim came near and laid her hand softly on WychHazel's shoulder. 

'Do, dear Hazel!' she said. 'Duke knows; you may trust him. '

It was indescribable the way she freed herself from them both, as if to be touched, now, was beyond the bounds of endurance. Prim's words Hazel utterly ignored, but something in theother's claimed attention. 

'Go! Go!'--she said hurriedly. 'Go and do your part!--If you hadbeen content with doing that at first, we should have had notrouble. ' She wrapped her arms round one of the light verandahpillars, and leaning her head against it gave look nor wordmore. 

Rollo staid for none, but dashed away down the slope and waslost in the woods. Primrose stood near Wych Hazel, very muchat a loss indeed; but too troubled to be still. 

'Dear Hazel!' she ventured, in a very soft voice--'don't feelso! What is the matter?'

'Did you not hear?'

'Yes; but Hazel dear, you know hardly anything yet; there maybe very little to be troubled about. The accident may be veryslight, for all you know. I always think it is best to waitand see; and then have your strength ready to work with. '

'My strength has been extremely useful to-day. '

'What to you mean, dear?' said Primrose, softly endeavouringto coax the hands and arms away from the verandah pillar. 'Look here--look up and be yourself again. Maybe there is verylittle the matter. Wait and see. '

'Wait!'--Hazel repeated. 'People talk as if waiting was sucheasy work!'

'I never said it was easy, ' said Primrose gently. 'But somepeople have to wait all their lives. ' There was the veryessence of patience in the intonation. 

'I should think their lives would be short. '

Primrose sighed a little and was silent. Perhaps she thoughtthat those who had little occasion to practise the grace wereunreasonable. But I think she only remembered that the onenear her was very unpractised. 

'Forgive me--I do not mean to--be--' the girl faltered out, thetremor coming back to her voice. 'But Reo!--' And with that, pain and disappointment and chagrin joined forces; andquitting her pillar, Hazel dropped down by one of the greatwicker chairs, and laying her head there burst into a passionof weeping that almost made Primrose wish for the hard-edgedcalm again. 

So she stood passively by until the storm was spent; and Dr. Maryland having satisfied his book quest, came out again, awakening to the fact that it was time he and Primrose werejogging homeward. Primrose took him aside and explained thesituation of affairs, after which Dr. Maryland, too, forthwithbetook himself down the slope in the direction where Mr. Falkirk and Rollo had disappeared. After a little interval offurther suspense he was seen coming back again. He reportedthat Reo was not much hurt; had been a good deal bruised, andthe accident had threatened to be serious; but after all nogreat harm was done. Primrose nevertheless begged that herfather would go home without her; she could come with Duke, she said. 

Dr. Maryland's wagon had not been brought round, however, whena very different vehicle appeared, climbing the steep; andPrimrose proclaimed that Mrs. Powder was at hand. The carriagedrew up before the verandah, and from it descended the ex-Governor's lady, and two young ones--Miss Annabella andanother. Mrs. Powder was a stately lady, large and dignified;--those two things do not always go together, but they did inher case. She was extremely gracious to all the members of thelittle group she found gathered to receive her. Then, as Dr. Maryland was going, she sat down to talk to him about somebusiness which engaged her. So the two older persons were alittle removed from the rest. Miss Annabella did nothing butlook handsome and calm, after her wont; but her younger sisterwas of different mettle. 

'And so this is Chickaree?' she said, gazing up and down andabout, at the old house and its surroundings. 'What adelightful old place! And are you the mistress of it, really--without being married, you know? How splendid! I always thinkthat's the worst of being married--you lose your liberty, youknow, and there's always somebody to bother you; but to have agrand place, and house, and all that, and to be mistress, and_have no master!_--I declare, ' Miss Josephine cried, throwing uphands and eyes, 'it's as good as a fairy tale. And muchbetter, for it don't all vanish in smoke in a minute. Oh, don't you feel like a fairy princess in the midst of all yourmagnificence? You look like it, too!' added the young lady, surveying the person of her hostess. 'Ain't you proud?'

Hazel's spent and past excitement had left her rather pale andgrave, so that she was doing the honours with an extra touchof stateliness. Self-control was trying its best now, for shehad not the least mind that anybody should know it had everbeen shaken. So she ordered lunch to be served out there onthe verandah, and made Dr. Maryland wait for it, and talked toMiss Annabella; and now gave Miss Josephine a cool 'Proud! Isthat what you call it?' which left nothing to be desired. 

'I thought they said she was so brilliant?' remarked MissAnnabella, in an aside to Primrose. 'But I suppose _that_ iswith gentlemen. '

'What do _you_ call it?' the younger Miss Powder went on. '_I_should be proud--awfully--if I had such a house and all. I'dtake my time about being married. Wouldn't you? Don't youthink it is best to put off being married as long as you can?--not till it's _too_ late, you know. The fun's all over then--don't you think so?--except the house, and carriage, andestablishment, and giving entertainments, and all that. Andyou have got it all already. Oh, I should think you would makethe men dance round?'

Wych Hazel had followed this rush of new ideas with a degreeof amazement, which, before she knew, culminated in a merrylaugh. But she was grave again immediately. 

'Should you?' she said. 'How do you do it?'

'_Don't you know how?_' said the other girl, with an expressionof insinuation, fun and daring which it is difficult to giveon paper. She was a pretty, bright girl, too. The questionwould have been impudent if it had not been comical. 'I knowyou do!' she went on. 'You've a good battery. I'd like to seeyou do it. I always do. It's such fun! All men are good for, 'she exclaimed next, with a curl on her lip, 'except to carryone's parasol and things. Do you know Kitty Fisher?'

'Not even by name, ' said Miss Kennedy, studying her guest asan entirely new species. 

'She's a splendid girl. She's coming to Moscheloo next week;there'll be goings on then. People are so stupid here in thecountry, they want somebody to wake them up. Kitty's awfullyjolly. Oh, what a lovely old house! Take me in and let me seeit, won't you? Oh, what a lovely hall! What a place for aGerman! Oh, you'll give a German, won't you?'

'I do not know what I shall give, yet, Miss Powder. '

'I'm not Miss Powder! Annabella wouldn't thank you. She'd likeme to be Miss Powder, though. Tell me; don't you think peoplecould get along just as well if they weren't married? Nowthere's my mother wants to marry us off as quick as she can;and every other girl's mother is just the same. What do theydo it for? Oh, you've got a dreadful old guardian, haven'tyou? Does he want you to get married? Ain't it hateful to havea guardian? I should think it would be awfully poky. '

'Did you ever see Mr. Falkirk?' said Hazel gravely. Somehowthis girl's talk made her extremely reticent. But that madelittle difference to Miss "Phinny. " The next question was:

'Do you know Stephen Kingsland?'

'Yes. '

'Don't you admire him? Ain't he a catch, for somebody! But youknow Stuart Nightingale, don't you?'

Again Miss Kennedy said yes. 

'Like him?'

'Do you?' said Hazel. 

'I think he's splendid! He's so amusing; and he's a _splendid_dancer. It's fun to dance with Stuart Nightingale. I don'tvery often get him, though. But you didn't answer me--do youlike him?'

'I am not much in the habit of answering people, ' said Hazelfrankly. 'You will find that out if you see enough of me. '

'Ain't you? Why?' asked the young lady ingenuously. 

'Because I do not like to be questioned. You perceive no faultcan be found with my reasons, ' she added with a smile. 

'Then you do like him, I know. People are never afraid to telltheir dislikes. Why!--is that'--

A broken-off inquiry here was never finished, the answer to itin fact being furnished by the coming near of Rollo whosedistant appearance had first suggested it. He came up on theverandah, shook hands with Mrs. Powder, but gave the otherladies one of what Wych Hazel used to know, as his Spanishgreetings; courteous and distant equally. Dr. Maryland hadbefore this finished his colloquy with the ex-Governor's ladyand departed. Rollo now took his place and talked to Mrs. Powder, while for a few minutes Annabella used her eyes, asmuch as she could, and Miss Phinny ceased to use her tongue. 

Wych Hazel never knew by what instinct she worked her waythrough that first bit of time. Eager for more tidings, surethat her eagerness must not appear, she held her breath forone minute--then rose up cool and quiet, the young mistress ofChickaree. 

'Yes, ' she said, answering Phinny's half spoken words, 'it isMr. Rollo. And of course he has had no luncheon. '

She summoned Dingee with a blast of her silver whistle (therewere few bells at Chickaree), ordered up hot chocolate andfresh tea and relays of fruit and cream; and herself steppedforward to see them served. 

'There are croquettes, Mr. Rollo, ' she said, --'and Dingee willbring you cold beef. And with what may I fill your cup?'

Primrose, through her scattering talk with Annabella, watched, as she could, these two people who were so strange to hersimplicity. Here was Wych Hazel, a little while ago on thefloor in a passion of tears; now, calm, self-possessed, andgraceful. Primrose had been very uncertain how she would meetRollo the next time; with a kind of wonder she heard herfriendly offer of chocolate and observed Rollo's perfectlycool and matter-of-course acceptance of it from her hands. Itwas something beyond Primrose. She waited to see how it wouldbe when Mrs. Powder went away. 

But a great many thoughts went in among the sugar thatPrimrose never guessed. Wych Hazel was anxiously waiting tohave the good report about Reo confirmed, and would not shewher anxiety. But what did Prim mean by people's waiting alltheir lives? What did they wait for? Well, these two peopleneedn't wait any longer for a meeting--that was one thing. _That_affair was well off her hands. Why hadn't Mr. Falkirk returnedtoo?--Staying with Reo, perhaps, until she came, and she couldnot go, and could not ask. And now, of course, the Powderswould just stay on, supplementing their lunch to bear Mr. Rollo company. Perhaps, though, it was just as well they werehere when he came. Because she knew she ought to be furiouslyangry with him, and somehow that was never a _r�le_ she couldplay. Before excitement reached that point, she always gothurt, or troubled, or timid--and just now she was too tired. Ifhe told her to sit there and count her fingers, she shouldhardly have spirit to resist. How ever had he dared to takehold of said fingers as he had done!--and with that came asudden rush to Miss Kennedy's cheeks which made her wish shecould go for hot chocolate instead of Dingee. He had hinderedher by sheer force. Gentle force, --and gentlemanlike, --but nonethe less true to its name. There was one of the peculiaradvantages of being a woman! Or a girl. She should be strongerin full womanhood. But oh, she was woman enough to take careof Reo!--and if Reo were dying, and Mr. Rollo did not want tohave her go, he would sit calmly there and want morechocolate!--She glanced at him from under the long eyelashes, and another flush (of impatience this time) tinged her cheeks. But she did not stint him in sugar, nor make any mistakes withthe cream. Then her eyes went away over the long slope, wherebirds and sunshine held their revels. Wait?--what did peoplewait for, 'all their lives?' And why did Mr. Maryland's lastwords come up to her again? And why did the aforesaideyelashes grow wet? She was all shaken out of herself by themorning's work. She would send Dingee to inquire!--and notwait. But then if this strange man should order _him_ back--andDingee could not be relied on to go silently. No, she couldnot have a scene before all these people. And a wee bit of asigh, well kept in hand, went to the compounding of MissPhinny's third cup. 'Womanly patience?'--how was hers to begrown, yet? And what did he know about it, any way? She shouldlike to see him thoroughly thwarted, for once, and see howmuch manly patience he had on hand. And another swift glancewent his way; but with anxiety rousing up again, the glancelingered, and was more inquiring than she meant it should be. 

Luncheon was really over at last. The Governor's lady saidsome gracious words of welcome to her young hostess, invitedher to a dinner-party a few days off, and having ordered upher carriage, swept away with her daughters. What will be now?thought Primrose. 

Rollo had put the ladies into their carriage, and stood longenough to let them get out of observation behind the woods;then he came up on the verandah and going round the table satdown beside Wych Hazel. Primrose saw--did the other?--the easymotion which was universal with him, the fine figure, thefrank, bright face. Primrose did not mean to watch, but shesaw it all, and the look with which he sat down. It was notthat of a man about to make an apology, neither had it anysmile of attempted ingratiation. It was rather a sweet, confidential look of inquiry, which, however, went downthrough the depths of the brown eyes he was looking into, andrifled them of all their secrets. It was a sort of look beforewhich a woman's eyes fall. 

'Reo is not seriously hurt, ' he said softly, when this pointhad been reached. 

She bowed her head. 'So Dr. Maryland brought word. At last the_hope_. '

'He is only a good deal bruised. No bones broken, nor anyother harm done. It might have been worse; and so themessenger who first came did not alarm us for nothing. One ofthe woodcutters had felled a large tree without giving duewarning, or Reo had not heeded the warning; he was caughtunder the tree. But he escaped very well. He is at his ownhouse, where he will have to keep his bed some days, I fancy. '

Another mute gesture. Perhaps the girl was not sure of herselfafter all the morning's work, and had no mind to risk anotheradmonition about self-control. 

'I am very glad, ' she said gravely, after a minute. 

'I am very glad. Mr. Falkirk has sprained his ankle, ' he wenton a little lower. 

'Mr. Falkirk!'--

Hazel sprang up, --then as instantly sat down again. Thereshould be no more strength used about her that day!

'Helping Reo?' she said. 

'Not directly. He made a misstep, I think, among the confusionof branches cut and uncut with which the ground wasencumbered; slipped off one of them, perhaps; somehow gave hisfoot a twist, --and there he is. That was the cause of my longdelay. ' He spoke, watching the little lady all the while. 

'Why did he not come here?--it was nearer, ' she said with someaccent of impatience. 

'No, '--very gently--'we were nearer his cottage. I proposedbringing him, --where I was sure you would wish for him, --here, at once; but Mr. Falkirk laid his commands on me and on allconcerned so absolutely that there was no choice. We carriedhim to his cottage; for he could not walk. '

'Just like Mr. Falkirk!'--then the impatience died away in asoft tone of pity. 'Not able to walk!'--

'He will be a prisoner for some time, I am afraid. '

Hazel made no answer to that; thoughts were crowding in thickand fast. What was she going to do, with Mr. Falkirk laid up?Would she be a prisoner too? Was she to live here in thisgreat old house alone, by day as well as by night? They wererather sober thoughts that came. 

'That's very bad for Hazel, ' said Primrose, coming near andjoining the group. Hazel held out her hand and got fast holdof Prim's. She was ready for the sympathy this time. 

'Does he suffer very much, Mr. Rollo?'

'I don't think he minds that part of it; no, I left him incomparative comfort. I think his trouble is about you. And heought to have come here!--but people don't always know whatthey ought to do. I am going down there again presently tolook after him and make sure that Gotham understands bandages. 

'Gotham _thinks_ he understands everything. '

'I'll just make sure on that point. Have you any commandsbefore I go?'

'No, thank you, ' she said, with just the lightest shade ofhesitation, 'I think not. '

'Reconsider that, and give me my orders. '

'No--truly!' Hazel answered, looking up at him. How busy thethoughts were. 

'I am going to Reo's first. Have you any commands there?' Butshe shook her head. 

'No, Mr. Rollo, not any. '

He went off; and there was an interval somewhat quiet anduntalkative between the two girls. Later, Rollo came back, reported both patients doing well, and carried Prim home withhim. 

'Did you think I was all ungrateful?' Hazel said, wrapping herarms round Prim. 'Well, I was _not_. '

CHAPTER XX. 

BOUQUETS. 

Wych Hazel stood alone on her broad steps, watching the othersout of sight, and feeling alone, too. It must be nice tobelong to somebody, --to have brothers and friends! Just for themoment, she forgot her now unwatched independence. But thenshe came back to business, and flew off up stairs. The browndress could not stay on another minute, --was not the wholemorning tucked away in its folds? That was the first thing. And the second thing was, that Miss Kennedy, in a cloud offresh muslin and laces, came out again upon the steps, and, calling Dingee to follow her, began to speed away through theold trees at a sort of flying pace. It was late afternoon now;with lovely slant sunbeams and shadows falling across theslope, and a tossing breeze, and the birds at their eveningconcert. Fresh air, and action soon brought the girl up toconcert pitch herself; and she went on like a very sprite, along a side wood path, avoiding the main approach, and sogained the lodge by a side door; and in a minute more stood bythe bedside of her faithful old retainer. Hazel never knew atwhat cost to himself Reo managed to put out one hand farenough to receive her dainty fingers. 

'My little lady!' he said fondly, 'I knew she would come. '

'O Reo--O Reo!--I am so sorry!' she said, her eyes growing wet. 

'No need Miss Wych, dear, ' said Reo, smiling at her, thoughhis own eyes moistened to see hers. 

'And it was just cutting those trees that I did not want cut!'

'Aye, --but they do want cutting though, Miss Wych, ' said Reo. 'Mr. Falkirk is right. And Mr. Rollo. '

How that name came up at every turn. 

'Those trees are so big!' said Hazel with a shiver. 'I do notsee how you ever got out again, Reo. '

'Never should, my little lady, ' said Reo, 'only that there wassomewhat between me and the tree. '

'Between you and the tree?' said Hazel. 'Do you mean anothertree, that kept it off?'

'No, little lady, ' said Reo, 'I mean the Lord's hand. You seeHe's quicker than we are, and before I could jump or turn, Hishand was there over me. And caught the tree, and let it touchme but just so much. '

Hazel stood looking at him. 

'Suppose he had not put his hand there, Reo?' she said. 

'Then it would have been under me, Miss Wych--that's all thedifference, ' said Reo, quietly. 'Only I should never have seenmy little lady again in this life. '

'Well, you have got to see her a great many times, ' said thegirl, speaking fast because it was not easy to speak at all. 'I am coming to sing to you, and read to you, and to do allsorts of things. ' And with a smile like a stray sunbeam sheleft the room, and after a minute with Mrs. Reo whichstraightway made her over, 'as good as two, ' Hazel flittedaway up the hill again, as far as to Mr. Falkirk's cottage;walking in through the Summer-open doors upon his tea andtoast, without the slightest warning. There she was all right. It was delightful to get the whip hand for once! And so, privately enjoying Gotham's dismay at her unannouncedentrance, Wych Hazel stood by her guardian's side with a faceof grave reprehension. 

'Mr. Falkirk, I am really very much surprised at you!'

'H'm!--Not more than I am at myself, Miss Hazel. You are notahead of me there. '

'Considering how much there is to do, sir; considering theunsettled state of the neighbourhood, and my extremelyunprotected condition; that you should go dancing round amongloose branches without a partner, passes all my small wits. '

Mr. Falkirk glanced up at her, a glance of momentary fun andrecognition, though he was by no means in a sportive mood;that was easy to see. 

'Will you sit down, Miss Hazel? You must play guardian now. Can your wits accomplish that?'

'Yes, sir, I thank you. Will you order me a cup and saucer, Mr. Falkirk? I have had no dinner, and could eat no lunch. AndI know Gotham would see me starve before I had even a crustwithout your permission. '

'I'm sure, Miss 'Azel!--Mr. Falkirk knows'--began Gotham. 

'What have you got, Gotham?--anything in the house? Be off, andget all there is--and be quick about it. '

'O, I do not want much, sir--just a slight supplement to thepleasure of seeing you, ' said Hazel, with her gay laugh. 'Mr. Falkirk, don't you think it would be very nice to have Mrs. Saddler dust up that little bit of a brown corner room for me?And then I could stay here with you all the time, and we wouldtake splendid care of each other. '

'There's nothing there _but_ a little brown room, my dear. '

'I do not care, sir. Mrs. Saddler must have a spare blankeramong her stores. And I would leave word up yonder that I hadunexpectedly gone away for a time. --And it would be fun, ' saidMiss Hazel, decidedly. 'Besides the other advantages. '

'What will happen to all the princes who are coming after theprincess?'

'They will learn--self-control, ' said Miss Hazel. 'I have beentold lately that it is a good thing. '

'Not formerly?'

'The last time made the most impression, sir. As last timesare apt to do. '

'Miss Hazel, I have a request to make to you, ' Mr. Falkirksaid, after allowing a minute or two of silence to succeed thelast remark. 

'What, sir? That I will not sing so loud in the little brownroom as to disturb your repose? I can promise _that_. '

'You have not got your horses yet. '

'No, sir. I am sure I ought to know so much, ' said the girlwith a sigh. 

'Rollo will see to it. You forget, my dear, we have been but afew days here. Miss Hazel, do you remember the story of theenchanted horse in the Arabian Nights?'

'With great clearness, sir. In everything but his appearanceit was just the horse I should like. '

'Just the horse I am afraid of. The cavalier turned a screwand the lady was gone. I request that you will mount nobody'ssteed, not even your own, without consulting me first that Imay make sure all is safe. It is still more true than it wasthe other night that I require your co-operation to dischargemy trust. '

'Why, of course I should consult you, sir!' she said, withsome surprise. 

'That is all, Miss Hazel. Rollo will give his oversight to thewoods. Only don't engage yourself to anybody for a ride tillyou _have_ consulted me. Do you agree to that form ofprecaution-taking?'

'Certainly, sir. I am sure I referred Mr. Morton to you atonce, ' said Miss Hazel, drinking her tea. And Mr. Falkirk, ina silence that was meditative if not gloomy, lay and watchedher. It was a little book room where they were, perhaps thelargest on that floor, however; a man's room. The walls allbooks and maps, with deer horns, a small telescope and pistolsfor a few of its varieties. Yet it was cheerful too, and inperfect order; and Mr. Falkirk was lying on a comfortablechintz couch. Papers and writing materials and books had beendisplaced from one end of the table for Hazel's tea. Thatover, the young lady brought a foot-cushion to the side of Mr. Falkirk's couch and established herself there, much refreshed. 

'It is great fun to come to tea with you, sir! Now, may I goon with business? or are you too tired?'

'Suppose I say I am too tired?' growled Mr. Falkirk, 'whatwill you do?'

Hazel glanced up at him from under her eyelashes. 

'Wait, sir. I am learning to wait, beautifully!' she answeredwith great demureness. 'Then suppose I go and tell Mrs. Saddler about my room?'

'Go along, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Give your orders. You hadbetter send up to the house for some furniture. You'll makeMrs. Saddler happy at any rate. I am not so sure about Gotham. But Gotham has too easy a life in general. '

They had a lively time of it in the other part of the housefor the next half day. And so had Mr. Falkirk in his, for thatmatter: the sweet voice and laugh and song, somehow, penetrated to his study as grosser sounds might have failed todo. It was towards tea-time again when Wych Hazel presentedherself in the study on the tips of her toes, and subsidingonce more to her cushion glanced up as before at Mr. Falkirk. 

'Has the fatigue of yesterday gone off, sir?'

'No; but I see the business has come. Can you be comfortablein your mousehole? Let us have the business, my dear. If it isknotty perhaps it will make me forget my ankle. '

'Ah!' she said remorsefully, 'I was talking of fatigue, sir--not of pain. Is the pain very bad?'

'No, my dear; but I was always inclined to the epicurian sideof philosophy, and partial to anodynes; or even counter-irritants. '

'Whose bandage have you got on?' she said curiously. 

'Whose? My own. '

'Dear sir, I do not mean as to the linen! Mr. Rollo was comingdown to teach Gotham, and I wondered which of them took alesson. That is all. '

'H'm! Ask Gotham, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'I wish I had been here to see, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Never mind, I will next time. By the way, sir, did you leave any ordersfor me yesterday morning with anybody?'

'What do you mean, my dear?' said her guardian, rather openinghis eyes. It is to be noted that though he growled and frownedas much as ever, there had come into Mr. Falkirk's mien anundoubted softening of expression since yesterday. 

'I merely asked, sir. But now for business. Mrs. Powder is tohave a grand explosion in the way of a dinner party next week. And she wants me to come and help touch off the fireworks. MayI go?'

'What did you tell her?'

'That I would if you would, sir. '

'Is this the business?'

'Item the first, sir. '

'Well, my dear. Anything conditional upon my movements forsome time to come will probably have to be vetoed. But youwill have offers of a substitute. '

'The Marylands are going, sir. '

'Of course. '

'Well, Mr. Falkirk, suppose substitutes do offer, --what then?'

'Then you will follow your pleasure, Miss Hazel. '

'Thank you, sir. The next item seems to be a mild form ofthis: a little evening party at Mrs. Gen. Merrick's. And Mrs. Merrick hearing of your accident, sent a note to say that MissBird would convey me to Merricksdale, safe and in good order. '

'Who is Miss Bird?'

'Don't you remember, sir? She came to see me the same morningthe Lasalle party came. '

'There are a great many Birds, ' said Mr. Falkirk, grumpily, 'and they are not all pigeons. '

'But, my dear Mr. Falkirk, however important such naturalhistory facts may be, they do not exactly meet the case inhand. '

'I don't know whether they meet it or no. Can't you go withMiss Maryland?'

'Not invited, sir. '

'How would you get back?'

'Mrs. Merrick takes charge of that. '

'And didn't think it necessary to inform you how or when?'

'It is only a small party, sir. I should expect to be backearly. '

'That needs to be made certain, Miss Hazel, and stipulatedfor. '

'Well, sir, you shall name the hour. '

'Name it yourself; but be home by half-past eleven. MissHazel, I wish, till you have your own horses, you would not goto such places. '

There was a shade of disappointment in her face, but sheanswered steadily--

'I will not go, sir, if that is really your wish. '

'My dear, we must meet the enemy. In the progress of ladiesseeking their fortune that is always understood. What next?'

She hesitated a moment, carefully dressing the petals of acarnation in her hand. 

'The third item, sir, is--that if to-morrow afternoon I--willconsent to put--my little foot, ' said Miss Hazel, evidentlymastering a laugh, 'inside the right phaeton--Mr. May willconsent to drive. '

'Mr. May! Confound his impudence!' was the by no meansdoubtful utterance of Miss Hazel's guardian. 

Hazel bit her lips and sat demurely waiting furtherdevelopments. 

'Chickaree is in a very exposed situation, Miss Hazel!' Mr. Falkirk remarked, with something a little like a sigh. While, as if to give effect to his words, two well-mounted horsemenat that moment went up the hill, exchanging greetings with theoccupants of a landau that was just then making the descent. Wych Hazel looked and laughed. 

'It is very comical!' she said. But her guardian was silent. He knew the Enchanted ground had to be met and passed. Perhapshe wished it were well over; but I think the present feelingof discontent relieved itself not even so far. 

'And on the whole your three answers are, sir?--' said Hazel, after a pause. 

'In your head, ' Mr. Falkirk growled. 'You know what they are. '

'My dear sir! one would think they were in your foot!' Butthen she was silent, and then she began to sing. One thing andanother, after her own fitful fashion, in the twilight; andbusiness did not come up again. Only as she went to sleep thatnight, Miss Kennedy indulged in one profound reflection. 

'No, ' she said to herself, 'Dr. Maryland was right: Primrosewould never do. Get her in a corner, and the most she can sayis, "Duke knows. " '

So drew on the night of Mrs. Merrick's party; and meantime arainy day or two saved Mr. Falkirk some trouble, and left thecottage in comparative quiet. But as the night drew near, theclouds cleared away and the sun shone out, and fairer weathercould not have been wished for, or wished away. 

There had been a running fire of errands and messages betweenthe cottage and the house on the hill, all day. Miss Kennedywas constantly finding out something more that she wanted forthe evening, and Dingee went back and forth with notes to Mrs. Bywank and waterproof-covered baskets in return, till Gothamat least lost patience. 

'More duds for Miss 'Azel!' he said in displeasure, as Dingeeappeared just at nightfall with a final basket. 'It's cleanridikerlous! One dress at a time ought to content any younglady. '

'Now I jes' tell you what, Mas' Gotham, ' said Dingee, 'youain't up to de situation. Pears like de whole countrysideafter my young mistis!'

Gotham gave a grunt in unsuccessful imitation of his master'sgrowl. 

'H'after'er, ' he said. 'Looks more as if she was h'after them--wanting fourteen dresses at once. '

Dingee shewed his teeth from ear to ear. 

'You bery wise man, Mas' Gotham!' he said. ' 'Spect now youcan tell a feller all about dese yere. ' And Dingee threw offthe white paper which covered what he carried this time, anddisplayed to Gotham's astonished eyes a basket full ofbouquets. 

' 'Spect now dese yere growed in Missee Hazel's owngreenhouse, ' he said, tauntingly, 'seein' she ain't got none!Shouldn't wonder if dey started up spontanous like, arter deshower. How you tink, Mas' Gotham, hey?'

But Gotham was virtuously indignant. 

'Miss 'Azel'll get her head worse turned than it h'is now, ' hesaid. 

'Heads does turn, fact, ' said Dingee, shaking his own. 'Jes'you watch 'em when de horseback gen'lemen dey goes by, Mas'Gotham, and you'll see de heads turn!'

But Gotham had watched enough already to know there was nomistake about that. 

'Well, ' he said, 'since h'it's 'ere, h'it's 'ere, and 'll 'aveto stay, no doubt. I'll take it to the library. '

'Cotch him first!' said Dingee, moving a little out of reach. 'Where Missee Hazel?'

'Prinking 'erself h'up, ' answered Gotham severely. 

'Gotham telling fibs!' said the young lady in question, comingup behind him with her light tread. 'Perhaps he had bettertake _himself_ to the library, and report to Mr. Falkirk. Whatdo you want of me, Dingee? I thought everything was here. '

Dingee had adroitly covered his basket again, but now he drewnear and displayed his treasure, adding messages of a somewhatadorned nature, while Wych Hazel read the cards attached tothe bouquets. Gotham, standing a little off, looked onindignant as before, and frowned at the flowers and theflushing cheeks drooped over them, as if he had been Mr. Falkirk himself. But when Hazel caught up the basket and ranoff to her little corner room, then Gotham did betake himselfto the library, though without quite the report suggested. 

'Beg pardon, sir, ' he said; 'Miss 'Azel 'ave just received abushel of flowers, sir, --if you choose to be h'aware, sir. '

'A _what_, Gotham?' said the astonished Mr. Falkirk. 

'No person of discretion to detain them at the 'ouse, sir, andso of course they followed Miss 'Azel down 'ere, sir. Bouketsenough to last a h'ordinary person all summer, sir. And cards. And ribbands, '--concluded Gotham, beginning to clear the tablefor tea. 

'Look here, Gotham, '--said Mr. Falkirk, from his sofa, whencehis eyes followed his serving-man about. 

'Yes, sir!' said Gotham, erect and motionless. 

'Do you dare to speak of Miss Hazel as an ordinary person?'

'Why, no sir! By no means! Very h'extraordinary, I thought Isaid, sir--or h'indicated, ' replied Gotham, going back to hisleisurely motions about the table. 

'Have the goodness to remember that it is proper her flowersshould be extraordinary. '

'O, you are clearing the table, ' Hazel said, flitting in;'just what I wanted--tea early. '

'Tea never h'is late, Miss 'Azel!' said Gotham in an aggrievedvoice. 

'I didn't know but it might be to-night, ' said the girlprovokingly. 'But dear Mr. Falkirk, do you really like to haveyour books disturbed so often, just for me?'

'My dear, ' said Mr. Falkirk rather lazily, brushing one handover his forehead, 'you have done that for my life generally. '

'My dear Mr. Falkirk!--evidently I have just come in time toreceive a shot meant for somebody else. I wonder you allowyourself to fire at random, sir, in that way. '

'Who has been sending you flowers, Miss Hazel?' her guardianasked, without change of tone. 

She laughed. 

'Shall I leave you the cards, sir--just to pass away the timewhile I am gone?'

'I'll take them now, Miss Hazel, if you please. ' Mr. Falkirkstretched out his hand. 

'They are not so precious as to be carried in my pocket, sir. Do you want them before tea?'

'If you please, Miss Hazel!'

'I don't please a bit, sir. I am in a great hurry to go to mydressing. And you know, Mr. Falkirk, you seldom try for "thesoul of wit" on such occasions. '

'Does that mean, you refuse me the sight of them?'

'No, sir!--"By no means!"--to quote Gotham, ' said Wych Hazel, jumping up. She came back and laid the cards in his hand--quitea packet of them. Mr. Falkirk found names that he knew andnames that he did not. He turned them over, speaking some ofthe names in an inexpressive sotto voce; and then begandoubling them up, one after the other, and letting them fallon the floor beside him. 

'Have you got a copy of the Arabian Nights in your library, mydear?' he asked. 'I wish you would send for it. I am notposted. I have an indistinct impression of a fight between tworival powers, in which, after a variety of transformations, the one of them in the shape of a kernel of corn was swallowedby the other in some appropriate shape. I should like to studythe tactics, watch my opportunity, and make an end of thesegentry. ' Mr. Falkirk dropped the last card as he spoke. 

'Ha! ha!' laughed Wych Hazel in her soft notes. 'You will feelbetter, sir, when you have had a cup of tea. ' And she beganpreparing it at once. Whether or not Mr. Falkirk felt betterhe did not say. 

The girl went off to her dressing. And just before the hourwhen Miss Bird must arrive she came silently in again andstood before her guardian. If Mr. Falkirk thought of humming-birds then, it could only have been of the tropical species. Adark dress, that shimmered and glittered and fell into shadowswith every motion, first caught his eye; but then Mr. Falkirksaw that it was looped with bouquets. Now either Miss Hazel'sadmirers had differing tastes, or a different image of her, orelse each sent what he could get; for the bouquets wereextremely diverse. A bunch of heath and myrtle held up thedress here, a cluster of crimson roses held it back there;another cluster of gold and buff, a trailing handful ofglowing fuchsias--there is no need to go through the list. Butshe had arranged them with great skill to set each other off;tied together by their own ribbands, catching up the shimmerof her dress. 

Mr. Falkirk looked, and the fact that his face expressednothing at all was rather significant. One glance at thegirl's face he gave, and turned away. 

'Take care, my dear, ' he said. 

'Of what, sir?'

'How do _you_ know but those flowers are bewitched? You wouldnot be the first woman who had put on her own chains. '

She smiled--rather to herself than him--throwing her littlewhite cloak over her shoulders; and then, girl-like, went downon one knee and kissed her guardian's hand. 

'Good-night, sir, ' she said. The carriage came, and she wasgone. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

MOONSHINE. 

After the day of rain, and the afternoon of clearing wind andclouds, the evening of Mrs. Merrick's party passed into one ofthose strange, unearthly nights when the whole world seemsresolved into moonlight and a midsummer night's dream. Sowhile gas and hot-house flowers had it all their own way inthe house at Merricksdale, over the rest of the outside worldthe wondrous moonlight reigned supreme. Not white and silvery, but as it were gilded and mellowed with the summer warmth. Step by step it invaded the opening ranks of forest trees; anddark shadows wound noiselessly away from the close pursuit. Not a wind whispered; not a moving thing was in sight alongthe open road. Except indeed Mr. Rollo, who--not invited toMrs. Merrick's, and just returned from a short journey--wasgetting over the ground that lay between the railway stationand home on foot. And his way took him along the highway thatstretched from Crocus to the gates of Chickaree. 

Now moonlight is a very bewildering thing--and thoughts dosometimes play the very will-o'-the-wisp with one. And whensomebody you know is at a party, there is a funny inclinationto go through the motions at least, and be up as late asanybody else. So it was with a somewhat sudden recollectionthat Mr. Rollo bethought him of what his watch might say. Justthen he was in a belt of shadow, where trees crowded out themoon; but the next sharp turn of the road was all open andflooded with the yellow light. 

It would be quite too much to suppose that the gentleman inquestion was particularly open to impressions--and it iscertain that his thoughts at that minute were well wrapped upin their own affairs; and yet as he went round the turn, passing out of the line of shadow into absolute moonshineagain, there came upon him a strange sense of some presencethere besides his own. But what the evidence was, whether ithad smote upon his eye or upon his ear, of that Mr. Rollo wasprofoundly ignorant. Yet it is safe to say that he came out ofhis musings and looked about him. Only a midsummer night'sdream still: the open road for a mile ahead in full view, thedark line of trees on each side as motionless as if asleep. But the utter hush was perhaps more suggestive than the stirof a breezy night: it seemed as if everything was listeningand held its breath to hear. 

The gentleman in question, however, was not one to let slipsuch a suggestion to his nerves--or his senses. His nerves wereof the coolest and steadiest kind; he could depend on _them_ forgetting up no shams to puzzle him; and his senses had hadcapital training. Eye and ear were keen almost as those ofsome of the wild creatures whose dependence they are; andRollo had the craft and skill of a practised hunter. Soinstead of dismissing the fancy that had struck him, as mostmen would, he fell noiselessly into the shadow again, witheyes and ears alive on the instant to take evidence that mightbe relied on. But nothing stirred. Nothing shewed. Except asbefore, the yellow moonlight and the dark trees. Rollo was ahunter, and patient. He stood still. The shadowy edges of thestream of light changed slowly, slightly, and still theevidence he looked for did not come. Nothing seemed to changebut those dark fringes; only now some wave of the branches asthe wind began to rise, let in the moonlight for a moment upona small white speck across the road. He thought so: somethingwhiter than a wet stone or a bleached stick, --or it might befancy. Noiselessly and almost invisibly, for Dane could movelike an Indian, and with such quickness, he was over the roadand at the spot. There was no mistaking the token--it was alittle glove of Wych Hazel's. Evidently dropped in haste; forone of her well-known jewelled fastenings lay glittering inhis hand. But--Mrs. Gen. Merrick lived quite in another quarterof the world; and in no case did the direct road fromMerricksdale lead by here. 

If Rollo's senses had been alive before, which was but theirordinary and normal condition, he was now in the frame of mindof a Sioux on the war-path, and in corresponding alertness andacuteness of every faculty. The little glove was swiftly putwhere it would furnish a spot of light to no one else; and inbreathless readiness for action, though that is rhetorical, for Rollo's breath was as regular and as calm as cool nervescould make it, he subsided again into the utter inaction whichis all eye and ear. And then in a few minutes, from across theroad again, and near where he was at first, came these softwords:

'Mr. Rollo--will you give quarter if I surrender at discretion?Just to save you trouble--and let me get home the quicker. '

In the next instant the gentleman stood by the lady's side. Well for him that he was a hunter, and that habit is a greatthing; for he made no exclamations and showed no disturbance, though Wych Hazel in the woods at that time of night, was athing to try most people's command of words at least. Only inthe spring which brought him across the road he had spoken theone word "Hazel!" louder than an Indian would have done. Thenhe stood beside her. Wych Hazel herself--bareheaded, withoutgloves, her little white evening cloak not around hershoulders, but rolled up into the smallest possible compass, and held down by her side. She had been standing in thedeepest depth of shadow under a low drooping hemlock, and nowcame out to meet him. But she seemed to have no more words togive. That something had happened, was very clear. Rollo'sfirst move was to take the girl's hand, and the second toinquire in a low voice how she came there. The hand-touch wasnot in compliment, but such a taking-possession clasp as Hazelhad felt from it before; one that carried, as a hand-claspcan, its guaranty of protection, guidance, defence. 

Hazel did not answer at first--only there went a shiver overher from head to foot; and her hand was as cold as ice. 

'I am very glad to find you, Mr. Rollo, ' she said in a sort ofmeasured voice; he could not tell what was in it. --'Will youwalk home with me?'

Rollo's answer was not in a hurry. He first took from WychHazel her little bundle of the opera cloak, shook it out, andput it around her shoulders, drawing the fastening button atthe throat; then taking the little cold hand in his claspagain, and with the other arm lingering lightly round hershoulders, he asked her "what had happened?"

People are different, as has been remarked. There was nobodyin the world that could have put the question to Wych Hazel ashe put it, and afterwards she could recognize that. Mr. Falkirk's words would have been more anxious; Dr. Maryland'swould have been more astonished; and any one of Miss Hazel'sadmirers would have made speeches of surprise and sympathy andoffered service. Rollo's was a business question, albeit inits somewhat curt accentuation there lurked a certainreadiness for action; and there was besides, thoughindefinably expressed, the assumption of a right to know and avery intimate personal concern in the answer. How his eyeswere looking at her the moonlight did not serve to shew; theywere in shadow; yet even that was not quite hid from theobject of them; and the arm that was round her was there, notin freedom-taking, but with the unmistakeable expression ofshelter. So he stood and asked her what had happened. 

'Thank you, ' she said in the same measured tone. 'I am notcold--I think. But it is safe now. Will you walk home veryfast, please? I promised Mr. Falkirk that I would be home byeleven!'--There was an accent of real distress then. 

'Do you know what o'clock it is now?' said Rollo, drawing outhis watch. 

'I hoped--a while ago--it was near morning. '

He did not say what time it was. He put the little hand on hisarm, guided Hazel into the road, and began his walk homeward, but with a measured quiet pace, not 'very fast. '

'Why did you wish it was morning?' he asked in the same way inwhich he had spoken before. No haste in it; calm business andself-possession; along with the other indications abovementioned. It was cool, but it was the coolness of a manintensely alive to the work in hand; the intonation towardsWych Hazel very gentle. 

'I thought I had to walk home alone, ' she said simply. 'And Iwanted the time to come. '

'Please tell me the meaning of all this. You went toMerricksdale this evening--last evening?'

'Yes. ' Words did not come readily. 

Rollo added no more questions then. He went steadily on, keeping a gentle pace that Wych Hazel could easily bear, untilthey came to the long grey stone house where she had once runin from the storm. At the gate Rollo paused and opened it, leading his companion up to the door. 

'I am going to take you in here for a little while, ' he said. 'We will disturb nobody--don't fear; I have a key. '

'In here?' she said, rousing up then. 'O no!--I _must_ go home, Mr. Rollo. Did you bring me _this_ way--I did not notice. '

'You shall go home just as soon as possible, ' he said; 'butcome in here and I will tell you my reasons for stopping. '

The door opened noiselessly. The moonlight showed the way, shining in through the fanlights, and Rollo pushed open thedoor of the library and brought his charge in there. The nextthing was to strike a match and light two candles. The roomlooked very peaceful, just as it had been deserted by thefamily a few hours before; Rosy's work basket with the workoverflowing it, the books and papers on the table where thegentleman had been sitting; the chairs standing where they hadbeen last used. Past the chairs Rollo brought Wych Hazel tothe chintz sofa and seated her there with a cushion at herback; drew up a foot cushion, and unfastened her opera cloak. All this was done with quiet movements and in silence. He lefther then for a few minutes. Coming back, presented her on alittle tray a glass of milk and a plate of rusks. 

'I could get nothing else, ' said he, 'without rousing thepeople up to give me keys. But I know the way to Prim's dairy--and I know which are the right pans to go to. Miss Prudentiaalways objected to that in me. '

'But I cannot see anybody--nor speak to anybody--nor doanything--till I have seen Mr. Falkirk, ' said Hazel, looking upat him with her tired eyes. 'Indeed I am not hungry. '

He stood before her and bade her 'drink a little milk--it wasgood. '

Her brows drew together slightly, but--if that was the quickestway she would take that--and so half emptied the tumbler andset it down again. 

'Now let us go. '

He at down before her then. 

'Is there anything in what has happened to-night which makesyou wish to keep it from the rest of the world? except ofcourse Mr. Falkirk and me?'

If his object was to rouse her from the mechanical way inwhich she had hitherto moved and spoken, success is rarelymore perfect. Crimson and scarlet and all shades of colourwent over her face and neck at the possible implications inhis words; but she drew herself up with a world of girlishdignity, and then the brown eyes looked straight into his. 

'It is nobody's business, ' she answered. 'So far. --No further. '

He smiled. 'You mistake me, ' he said, very pleasantly. 'Thatis my awkwardness. It _is_ nobody's business--except Mr. Falkirk's and mine. But you know very well that fact is no barto people's tongues. And sometimes one does not choose to givethem the material--and sometimes one does not care. My questionmeant only, do you care in this instance? and was a practicalquestion. '

'What do _you_ mean?' she said, quickly. 'Say out all that is inyour mind. How can I judge of it by inches. '

'You have not enlightened me, ' he said, 'and _I_ can judge ofnothing. Do you wish to get home without letting anybody knowyou have been out? or may I call Primrose down and give youinto her hands to be taken care of? Surely you know my otherquestion referred not to anything but the impertinence of theworld generally. '

'O! I will go home!' she said, rising up. 'I cannot seeanybody. And Mr. Falkirk!--He might send for me!'

'Mr. Falkirk is fast asleep, ' said Rollo. 'He will haveconcluded that you were kept at Mrs. Merrick's. Sit downagain, and rest, ' he said, gently putting her back on thecushions, (he had risen when she rose)--'we are not ready to goquite yet. You must take breath first. And we must not rouseup Chickaree at this hour. If you were known to have staidwith Miss Maryland--would not that be the best way?'

'How is one to know the best, where all are bad?'--Hazel restedher head in her hands and sat thinking. 

'No, ' said he quietly--'we'll try and not have that true. Ifyou could trust me with the story of the evening, I might beable to judge and act better for you. '

'Did you bring me here that I might not get home at such anhour?' she said suddenly, looking up. 

'I promised to tell you my reasons. Yes, that was one of them. The people at Chickaree must not know of your coming home inthe middle of the night, on foot. If I take you home at a fairhour in the morning, it will be all right. Not on foot, ' saidhe, smiling. He was so composed and collected, that his mannerhad everything in it to soothe and reassure her. Not thecomposure of one who does not care, but of one who will takecare. 

'And Mr. Falkirk would say the same, '--she spoke as ifreasoning the matter out with herself. 'Then I must wait. Butdo not call anybody. Mayn't I sit here just quietly bymyself?'

'Suppose you take possession of one of Prim's spare rooms, andastonish the family at breakfast? All you need say is that youcame after they were all gone to their rooms. Dr. Marylandwill never seek for a reason. And Prim will never ask for one. But if you prefer it, I will take you home before they areup. '

'Just as you please, ' she answered wearily: indeed wearinesswas fast getting the upper hand. '_You_ must want rest, I shouldthink. What were you doing there?' she asked with her formersuddenness. 'Were you looking for me? Did you know where Iwas--not?'

'No, ' he said, smiling again, 'I had been to Troy to look atsome horses, about which I had been in correspondence; andwishing to be here to-morrow--that is, to-day!--it pleased me totake a night train which set me down at Henderson; no nearer;I was walking across country to get home. And I feel as if Inever should be "tired" again. Come--you can have some time ofrest at least; and I will carry you home before or afterbreakfast, just as you please. '

Upstairs with noiseless footfalls--and Rollo reminding WychHazel which was Primrose's room, indicated another close by, within which he said he believed she would find what shewanted. That room was always kept in order for strangers; andno strangers were in the house now. 

'Primrose will come to you in the morning, ' he said, 'unlessyou wish to go before that?'

Wych Hazel turned and held out her hand. 

'Thank you!' she said. Then in answer to his last words--'Ishall be ready for either. '

Wherein, however, Miss Kennedy made a mistake. For having onceput herself down on the fresh white bed, sleep took undisputedpossession and held it straight on. Neither rousing bell norbreakfast bell roused her; nor opening door--if any opened; norsteps--if any came. Sleep so profound that she never turned norstirred nor raised her cheek from the hand where first shelaid it down. And the sun was getting a new view of thewestern slopes of the Chickaree woods, before the youngmistress thereof sat up in her strange room and looked abouther. 

'Well, you are awake at last!' cried Prim, bending to kissher. 'I _am_ glad! though I was glad to have you sleep, too. Howtired you were!'

Wych Hazel passed her hands over her face; but the newt movewas to put her arms round Prim's neck and for a moment herhead on Prim's shoulder. Then she sprang up and hurriedlyshook her dress into some sort of order. 

'O! I have slept a great deal too long, ' she said. 

'Why? No, you have slept just enough. Now you would like tochange your dress. There is a valise full of things from homefor you. And when you are ready you shall have some breakfast, or dinner, or tea, just which you like to call it. '

Primrose could not read the look and flush that greeted thevalise; and indeed she needed an entire new dictionary for herfriend this day. When Hazel made her appearance down stairs, hat in hand, she had more things in her face than Prim hadever met, even in dreams. Dr. Maryland was not there; thetable was spread in the library, where the afternoon lightpoured in through its green veil of branches and leaves; andPrim gave her guest a new greeting, as glad as if she hadgiven her none before. 

'I'm sure of having you hungry, now, Hazel, ' she exclaimed. 'Ididn't know what was best to give you; but Duke said coffeewould be sure to be right. '

'I wonder if you ever suggest anything which he does not thinkis "sure to be right"?' said Wych Hazel. 'I wonder if anybodydown here ever makes a mistake of any sort?'

'Mistakes? oh! plenty, ' said Primrose. 'I do; and I supposeDuke does. I don't know about papa. Now, dear Hazel, sit down. Duke will be here directly. '

And Primrose cut bread and poured out coffee and supplied herguest, in a sort of passion of hospitality. 

To say that the guest was as hungry as she should have beenafter such a fast, would be perhaps too much; last night wasstill too fresh for that; but seventeen has great restorativepowers at command, and Prim's coffee was undeniably good. Hazel grew more like herself as the meal went on, though hereyes kept their tired look, and her manner was a trifleabstracted. But Prim asked no questions; only hovered abouther with all sorts of affectionate words and ways, till Rollocame in. He sat down and began to make himself generallyuseful, in his wonted manner. 

'Duke, ' said Primrose, 'Miss Kennedy has been asking me if weever make mistakes in this house!'

'What did you tell her?'

'Why you know what I told her. I am not sure about papa; butthe rest of us don't boast of infallible wisdom. '

'Do you mean that he does?' said Duke, drily. At whichPrimrose laughed. 'Have you been asleep, Miss Hazel?'

'Beyond reach of all earthly things. Have you?'

Rollo remarked that he never got so far as that. 

'No, ' said Primrose, 'I never saw such a sleeper. He'll besound asleep, sound and fast; not dreaming nor stirring; andif there comes the least little sound that there _oughtn't_ tobe, he's up and broad awake and in possession of all hissenses in a minute. '

'How do you know?' said the subject of this description. 

'I know, ' said Primrose. 'Thunder wouldn't waken him; and theturning of a key in a lock would--suppose it was a time orplace when the lock ought not to be turned. '

'Very interesting details!' said Rollo. 'They may be useful inthe study of psychology--or physiology. Which is your favouritestudy, Miss Hazel?'

'Whichever will throw the most light upon this; Prim, can healso detect "the least little sound that oughtn't to be, ' whenthere is none at all?' said Hazel thinking of last night. 

'No, he can't, ' said Rollo, shaking his head. 'That's aphysiological question. But here is one in psychology: Can aperson be sensible of an unknown _presence_ when yet there isnone?'

'Ah!' she said, drawing a long breath and growing grave all atonce, 'I wish one might! It would have been a comfort. '

'Well, ' said he, 'I think I can resolve that question. '

'Duke, what are you talking of? You have got out of philosophyinto metaphysics, ' said Prim. 

'_She_ is the philosopher of the family, ' said Rollo, by way ofexplanation to Hazel. 'But she has made a mistake. As sheconfesses she does make them, I may remark that. '

'Why, you are talking of perceiving what does not exist!'cried Prim. 

'Is that what you call metaphysics? I should call itnonsense. '

'I never supposed you were talking nonsense, Duke. '

'No, ' said Duke. 'That _would_ be a mistake. No, I was speaking, Prim, of the detection, by no visible or intelligible means, of what we are not aware has existence. '

'By no intelligible means, ' said Prim. 'You mean, knowing aperson is coming, that you have not heard is coming--and suchthings?'

'And knowing a person is near, who you had thought was veryfar off. '

'Yes, ' said Prim thoughtfully; 'I know. It is very curious. '

'Witches, for instance?' said Hazel, with perfect gravity. 

'No, ' said Prim earnestly, 'I don't mean out-of-the-way peopleat all; though it is something "uncanny"--as it seems;--queer; Ihave heard of instances. '

'I have felt them, ' said Rollo. 

Primrose went into a brown study over the question. 

'But do you think, ' Rollo went on gravely addressing WychHazel, 'that this sort of mental action can take place exceptwhere there are strong sympathetic--or other--relations betweenthe parties?'

'So that the magnet finds out the iron, when it would pass bythe lead?--is that what you mean?'

A significant, quick, keen look; and then Rollo said, verygravely, 'But it strikes me we have got the thing reversed. Is it notrather the iron that finds the magnet?'

'The magnet must be conscious too, ' said Hazel. 'And I thinkit moves--where the iron is in sufficient quantity. '

'It would be a poor rule that wouldn't work both ways, ' saidRollo, with dry simplicity. 

'What are you talking about?' said Primrose. 'Do give Hazelsome more raspberries. I am inclined to think this, Duke--'

'Well?'

'I am inclined to think that in those cases you have beenspeaking of, there is testimony of the person's presence, onlyit is in some such little slight things as were insufficientto draw attention to themselves, and only, by naturalassociation of ideas, suggested the person. '

'What do you think, Miss Hazel?'

But she shook her head. 

'If you go off to people--I should say, sometimes, that couldnot be. '

'So should I, ' said Rollo. 

'Why?' said Primrose. 

'I cannot find in my consciousness, or memory, anycorroboration of your theory. '

'I think I can in mine. Sometimes, at least. '

'Those are not my times, ' said Rollo. 

'And I don't know but you are right, too, ' said Primrose, musing. 'I remember, that day you were coming home, I had notthe least reason to think so, and yet you were in my mind allday. '

'What is your explanation then?' said he, smiling at her. 

Prim was not ready with it; and before she was ready to speakagain, Wych Hazel was informed that her escort was at herservice. 

Dr. Maryland's little old chaise was at the door. Rollo putMiss Kennedy in it and took the reins. It was late in thesweet Summer afternoon; the door and the road and the fieldslooked exceedingly unlike the same things seen in shadow andmoonlight last night. Rollo never referred to that, however;he was just as usual; took care that Wych Hazel wascomfortably seated, and made careless little remarks, in hiswonted manner. Various people passed them; many were thegreetings, answered for the most part very sedately by theyoung lady of Chickaree. But just as they entered theoutskirts of her own domain, Rollo felt his companion shrinktowards him with a sudden start. Then instantly she satupright in her place. Two or three horsemen were in sight, atdifferent distances; one, the nearest, was a stranger toRollo. A remarkably handsome man, splendidly mounted, faultlessly dressed; riding his grey with the easy grace of atrue cavalier. He uncovered before he was near enough to domore, and then bent even to his saddle-bow before MissKennedy. And to him, turning full upon him, did Miss Kennedyadminister the most complete, cool, effectual cut that Mr. Rollo had ever seen bestowed. The rider's face turned crimsonas he passed on. 

Rollo made no sort of remark; drove gently, let the old horsecome to a walk; and at last, throwing himself back into thecorner of the chaise, so as to have a better look at hiscompanion, he said:

'Does daylight and rest make a difference, and are youinclined to trust me with the explanation of what happenedlast night? I should be grateful. '

He could see now with what extreme effort she had done herwork of execution--lip and chin were in a tremor. 

'It was no want of trust, Mr. Rollo--I meant you should know. But--I could not tell you first, ' she said rather timidly. 'Ithought, perhaps, you would take the trouble to come in andhear me tell Mr. Falkirk. '

'Thank you, ' he said, 'I _am_ grateful. ' And no more passed onthe subject until the chaise reached the cottage. 

CHAPTER XXII. 

A REPORT. 

Just glancing round at her companion to make sure that hefollowed, taking off her hat as she went, Hazel passed swiftlyinto the cottage and into Mr. Falkirk's study, to the foot ofhis couch--and there stood still. Very unlike the figure oflast evening, --in the simplest pale Summer dress, with noadornment but her brown hair, and yet as Mr. Falkirk looked, he thought he has never seen her look so lovely. She wassurely changing fast; the old girlish graces were taking tothemselves the richer and stronger graces of womanhood; andlike those evening flowers that open and unfold and gathersweetness if you but turn aside for a moment, so she seemed tohave altered, even since her guardian's last look. The broadgipsy hanging from her hand, her long eyelashes drooped, --soshe stood. Mr. Falkirk looked and took the effect of all thisin a glance two seconds long, during which, something held histongue. Then as his eye caught the figure that enteredfollowing her, it darted towards him a look of sudden surpriseand suspicion. Than changed, however, almost as soon, and hiseyes came back to his ward. But there is no doubt Mr. Falkirkscowled. 

'So, Miss Hazel, ' he began, in his usual manner, 'you foundyou could not manage other people's carriages last night?'

'Not the right ones, sir. Will you ask Mr. Rollo to sit down, Mr. Falkirk? It is due to me that he should hear all I have tosay. '

'It is not due to anybody that you should say it standing, 'said Rollo, wheeling up into convenient position the easiestchair that the room contained. She made him a slight sign ofacknowledgement, but yielded only so far as to lay her hand onthe chair back. Probably it was pleasant to touch something. Rollo stepped back to the mantlepiece and stood there, but nottouching it or anything. 

'It appears to me, Miss Hazel, ' said the recumbent master ofthe house, 'that the invitation must come from you. '

'I have not been invited myself, sir, yet. '

'I do not recollect inviting you to be seated yesterday, mydear; is to-day different from yesterday?'

'Unless I have forgotten the frown which welcomed me then, sir. I suppose you have but a faint idea of the looming up ofyour brows just now. '

'What?' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Don't you know, Miss Hazel, a man'sbrows are not within his range of vision? and I deny that heis responsible for them. Am I frowning now?'

'Not quite so portentously, sir. '

'Then you need not stand so particularly, need you? I wonder, if I looked so fierce, how Rollo dared to offer you thecivility of a chair in my presence; but people are different. '

'But I cannot sit there, ' she said, with a glance towards thebringer of the chair, as she passed by its reposeful depths. 'Not now. If Mr. Rollo will make himself comfortable in hisown way, I will in mine. ' And Hazel brought a foot cushion tothe couch and sat down there; a little turned away from thethird member of the party; who however did not change hisposition. 

'Is there business?' said Mr. Falkirk glancing from one to theother. 

The girl gave him a swift glance of wonder. 

'You used to think it was business, sir, to know what hadbecome of me. Did you sleep well last night, Mr. Falkirk?'

'Why should I, any more than you?' said Mr. Falkirk in his oldfashion of growling. 'Day is the proper time for sleeping, inthe fashionable world. '

It made her restless--this keeping off the subject of which herthoughts were full. Didn't he mean to ask any questions?

'Why should not I have slept, sir?--if you come to that. Thefashionable world was not to hold me beyond eleven. '

'So I understood, and endeavoured to stipulate, ' said Mr. Falkirk, 'but I am told you were so late in returning that youwould not come home, and preferred, somewhat inexplicably, disturbing Miss Maryland to disturbing me. '

'Is that what you think?' she answered, simply. 'That I brokemy word? Mr. Falkirk, I began returning as you say, at aquarter past eleven. '

'I never expected you to get off before that, my dear. Thenwhat was the matter?'

The girl hesitated a moment, and then one of her witch looksflashed through in spite of everything. 

'I fell into Charybdis, sir, that was all. '

'I do not remember any such place between here andMerricksdale, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Was it enchantment, mydear?' But his face was less careless than his words. Hersgrew grave again at once; and, wasting no more time, MissKennedy addressed herself to business. 

'I had arranged it all with Miss Bird, ' she said, 'on the waythere. She had a headache and was glad of an excuse to getaway early. It was "a small party, " I found, when you were inthe house and the rest were out of doors, but otherwiseeverybody was there--and nearly everybody else. The trees wereall lights and flowers; and supper tables stood ready from thefirst; and you know what the moon was. So altogether, ' saidMiss Hazel, 'it was hard to remember anything about time, andespecially to find out. I fancied that Mrs. Merrick had toldabout my going early, --watches seemed so very uncertain, and somany of them had stopped at nine o'clock. It was only by achance overhearing that I knew when it was half-past ten. Ilost just a few minutes then, manoeuvring, --for I did not want"everybody" to see me to the carriage; but when I had vanishedinto the house, and found Mrs. Merrick, Miss Bird was notthere. She had gone home an hour before, her head being worse, they said. '

Mr. Falkirk said nothing, but his thick brows grew togetheragain. 

'Mrs. Merrick said it was not the least matter; her coachmanunfortunately was sick, but fifty people would be only toohappy. I said everybody but me wished to stay late, --O, no, notat all!--here was Mr. May, going in five minutes, with hissister. They would be "delighted". I could not well tell her, sir, ' said Wych Hazel, with a look at her guardian, 'all thatoccurred to me in the connection, but I suppose I negativedMr. May in my face, for Mrs. Merrick went on. "Mr. Morton, then, --the most luxurious coach in the county. " He too wasgoing at once--if I did. Or, if I did not mind the walk, herbrother-in-law would take charge of me at any moment withpleasure. '

Certainly Mr. Falkirk outdid himself in scowling, at thispoint. 

'Well--I must get home somehow, ' she said with another glance, --'and the coach would never do, and the phaeton was tabooed. But I knew Mrs. Merrick's sister was Mrs. Blake; and so, thinking of the old doctor, I said at once that I would walk, and ran upstairs for my cloak. And then I found out, ' saidWych Hazel slowly, 'that the are two sorts of brothers-in-law. '

Nobody interrupted her, nor spoke when she paused. The littleroom was very still, except from the movements the girl madeherself. 

'This was the wrong one. No old doctor Blake at all, but ayounger brother of Gen. Merrick. What could I do?' she said, with a half appealing look that went for a second further thanher guardian. 'Already my promise was in peril; and there wasMr. Morton beseeching me into his coach--and I could not get upa fuss. ' It was very pretty and characteristic, theunconscious way in which she brought in--and left out--the thirdone in the room. Sometimes forgetting everybody but herguardian, and giving him details that were plainly meant forhis ears alone; then, with a sudden blush and stop, remembering that there was another listener standing by. Onsuch occasions she would generally turn her face a little moreaway and out of sight, and then begin again, in a tone thatmeant to keep clear of all further special confidences in thatdirection. The third member of the party stood perfectly stilland made no remark whatever. 

'Well?' said Mr. Falkirk, with rather a short breath, as thegirl paused. 

'There was nothing left for me but the walk--unless a fuss, anda half dozen more standing round. Then Mr. Morton said heshould walk, too, at least as far as the cross-road, and letthe carriage follow at a foot pace in case I should turnweary. If he had been half as anxious about my weariness as heprofessed, ' said the girl, with a curl of her lips, 'he wouldhave tried how fast his horses could go for once, with himbehind them. But I could not tell him that any plainer than Idid. '

'You tried to make him drive and leave you?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'I tried to make him let me alone, sir, ' said the girlflushing. 'As to the way, I made no suggestions. So we walkedon, and Mr. Morton made himself exceedingly--disagreeable. '

'Too officious? Or too presumptuous? He's an ass!' said Mr. Falkirk, who was plainly getting restive. 'Which, Hazel?'

'Unbearable I called it, sir. I was in no mood for nicedefinitions. And I couldn't have been tired _then_ if we hadwalked through the moonlight straight on to the moon! But--Ihad been lectured so much about self-control' (an invisibleglance went here) 'that, somehow, he seemed to keep hispatience the better, the more I lost mine. I never rememberyour telling me, sir, that my wilful moods were particularlybecoming, but I began to think it must be so; and actuallythought of trying a little complaisance. ' Whereat, Miss Hazelbrought herself to a sudden stop. 

'My dear!' said Mr. Falkirk. 'What was the other man about?'

'He was walking on the other side, ' said Hazel, her voicechanging. 'But he left me to Mr. Morton, in effect, andscarcely said three words all this time. I trusted histhoughts were too busy with Miss Powder, to notice what wenton near by. '

'This is what comes of what you erroneously term dancing onthe branches of trees!' said Mr. Falkirk, in a great state ofdisgust. 'But I have no idea I should have gone to thatwoman's if I had been free. More comes of it than I reckonedupon, or than six weeks will see me through. Well, you got ridof him at last, I suppose; and walked all the way to Dr. Maryland's in your slippers!'

'My dear Mr. Falkirk!--slippers at an out-door party! Yes, I"got rid of him, " as you say, when we reached the turning toMorton Hollow, ' Hazel went on, rather slowly, the shadowcoming into her tone again. 'And then, after that, I found outwhy my other companion had been so silent. '

'Found out! He had not been taking too much?'

'I told you the supper tables stood ready all the evening, 'said the girl, sinking her voice; 'and--it was plain--now--whathe had found there. '

The silence now, rather than any words, bade her go on. Shecaught her breath a little, mastering her excitement. 

'I knew, presently, what I must do. And when. You have toldme, sir, sometimes, that I was too hasty to resolve and todo, --I had to be both now. '

'What did you do?' said her guardian. 

'I must get away. And on the instant. For, just beyond, thewoods ceased, and there was a long stretch of open road. Ithought, in that second, that my cloak might be caught. So, with my free hand I unfastened it--I don't know how I ever didit!' said the girl, excitedly, 'unless, as Byo says, mamma'sprayers were round me!--but I slipped the cloak from myshoulders and tore away my other hand, and sprang into thewoods. '

They could almost hear her heart beat, as she sat there. 

'Into the woods alone!' cried Mr. Falkirk. 'Then--Go on, mydear, ' he said, his voice falling into great gentleness. 

'Things came so fast upon me then!' she said with a shiver. 'Ihad said, in that moment, "I can but try, "--and now I felt thatif you try--some things--you must succeed. To fail, then, wouldbe just a game of hide-and-seek. That was the first thought. Imust keep ahead, if it killed me. And then--instantly--I knewthat to do that I must not run!'--

'What _did_ you do?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'I might not be the fastest; and, if I ran, I should maybe notknow just where--he--was, --nor when the pursuit was given up. Imust pass from shadow to shadow; moving only when he moved;keeping close watch; until he got tired and went back. '

Hazel leaned her head on her hands, as if the mererecollection were all she could bear. 

'My dear!--exclaimed Mr. Falkirk. 'Did you keep up the gamelong?'

'I do not know, sir, ' she said, wearily; 'it seemed--' shestopped short, --then went on:

'I knew my dress was dark enough to pass notice; and as softlyas I could I rolled up my white cloak and took off my gloves, lest any chance light might fall on them. My steps weresteady--the others not: so far I had the advantage. Severaltimes I heard my name--I think the surprise must have soberedhim a little, for he called to me that that was not the road. But how long it went on, I cannot tell. '

'Till he gave it up?'

'Yes. At last, I saw him go back to the road, and heard histread there, turning back the way we had come. Past me. Andagain I had to wait. Only I crept to the edge of the trees, where I could see far down the moonlight, and watch the onemoving shadow there, that it did not turn off again among theshadows where I stood. And then I began to think I could notgo on towards home along that open stretch before me, --for atleast a mile there were only fields and fences on either hand. I had noticed it when we drove along in the evening. I couldnot go back towards Mrs. Merrick's. Then I remembered, in myride upon Vixen, finding a short cut from this road to onefrom Dr. Maryland's. And I thought if I could once get tothat, I should find unbroken woodland, where I could passalong unseen. For that, however, I must cross the road--in thefull, clear light. And what that was!--'

'But I went safe, ' she began again, 'and reached the shadowson the other side before there came sounds upon the road oncemore, and the full stream of late people began to comerattling down from Merricksdale. '

'Yes!'--Mr. Falkirk's word was rather breathless. 

'At first, when I saw the first carriage, I thought I wouldspeak and claim protection. But that held only men. And thencame others on foot--and some that I knew. And it seemed to me, that instead of speaking I almost shrank into a shadow myself. And when there came a little interval, so that I dared move, Isprang away again, and went through the woods as fast as Icould go, and go softly. The belt is not broad there, Isuppose, ' she said after another pause; 'and I reached theother road and went on while in the darkness, along the edge. But I think by this time I must have been tired, I grew sosuddenly trembling and unsteady. And the night was so still, and yet I seemed to hear steps everywhere. I could not bear itany longer; and I thought I would just be quiet and wait forthe day. Only--so far my wits served me yet--I must once morecross the road; for the moon was sinking westward now, and thelevel rays came in about my feet. '

'I thought I could not do it at first, ' she said, with a voicethat told more than the words, --'go out into that stream oflight; but then I did; and hid myself in the branches of agreat hemlock, and waited there. '

'And then I found Mr. Rollo, --and I knew that I might trusthim. '

With which most unconscious full-sized compliment, the girlcrossed her arms upon her lap, and laid her face down uponthem, and was still. 

'How did she found you?' demanded Mr. Falkirk withunceremonious energy. The answer was in an undertone:

'I found her. '

Mr. Falkirk was silent again. 

'No, ' said Wych Hazel, without raising her head, and again notstopping to measure her words. 'You would have stood theretill this time, if I had not spoken!'

'Would I?' said Rollo. 

'And how came you to be there at all at that time of night?'said Mr. Falkirk. 

'On my way from the cars. '

'Cars, where?'

'Henderson. '

'Walk from Henderson!' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'Save time. I wanted to be here to-day. ' The answers were allshort and grave, as a man speaks who has no words that hewants to say. 

'And Mr. Rollo thought', said Hazel, looking up, 'that it wasbetter for me to come home from Dr. Maryland's than from thewoods. And--when he spoke of it--I supposed you would say thattoo, Mr. Falkirk. '

But Mr. Falkirk vouchsafed no corroboration of this opinion. 

'Did I do well, sir?' she said a little eagerly, but meaningnow the whole night's work. 'Did I do ill? Was I a bit likeyour old ideal--"a woman" and "brave"? Or was I only a girl, and very foolish?' They were so silent, these men!--it triedher. Did they, in their worldly wisdom, see any better way outof her hard places, than her seventeen years' inexperience hadfound, at such a cost? The brown eyes looked searchingly atMr. Falkirk, and again for an instant went beyond him to Mr. Rollo. 

'Answer, Mr. Falkirk!' said the younger man. 

'My dear, ' said Wych Hazel's guardian, 'if I had been aquarter as much a man as you have proved yourself a woman, your bravery never would have been so tried. '

'And the bravery was as much as the womanliness!' said theother, in the short, terse way of all his words thisafternoon; no air of compliment whatever hanging about thewords. 

She answered with only a deep flush of pleasure, and eyes thatwent down now, and a smile just playing round the corners ofher mouth--the first that had been there that afternoon. It maybe remarked that there was no pleasure in either of the otherfaces. 

'Who knows about this?' said Mr. Falkirk, suddenly. 

'Nobody, ' said Rollo. 

'Not Miss Maryland?'

'I could answer for her; but she knows nothing. '

Wych Hazel looked up, listening. It was interesting to hearsomebody else talk now. Talk was stayed, however. Both menwere thinking; their thoughts did not run easily into spokenwords. Or not while she was present; for after a suddenexcursion up stairs to see what notes and messages might needattention, on returning she found the two deep in talk; Rolloseated near the head of Mr. Falkirk's couch, and bendingtowards him. He sprang up as Wych hazel came in and tookleave; shaking Mr. Falkirk's hand cordially and then claspingWych Hazel's. For the first time then a gleam of his usual gayhumour broke on his lips and in his eye, as he said softly:

'I should have made you speak before that!'

CHAPTER XXIII. 

KITTY FISHER. 

Nothing but the most superb propriety was to be expected atMrs. Powder's; nevertheless Wych Hazel went escorted by Primand Rollo in Dr; Maryland's rockaway. Dr. Maryland himself hadbeen persuaded to the dinner, and it was on his arm MissKennedy made her entrance upon the company. Something unlikeanything the doctor had ever taken charge of before, --in adress of tea-rose colour this time, and with only tea-rosesfor trimming. 

It was not a large company assembled for dinner, thougheverybody was expected in the evening. This was a differentaffair from Merricksdale; on old proud family name in themistress of the mansion; old fashioned respectability andmodern fashion commingled in the house and entertainment; thedinner party very strictly chosen. Beyond that fact, it wasnot perhaps remarkable. After dinner Dr. Maryland went home;and gayer and younger began to pour in. Following close uponMrs. Merrick's entertainment, this evening too had theadornment of the full moon; and as this party also was an out-door one, as much as people chose to have it so, the adornmentwas material. A large pleasure ground around the house, halfgarden, half shrubbery, was open to promenaders; and atcertain points there were lights and seats and music andrefreshments; the last two not necessarily together. On thispleasure ground opened the windows of the drawing room and tothis led the steps of the piazza; and so it came to pass inthe course of the evening that the house was pretty welldeserted of all but the elderly part of the guests. 

In this state of things, said elderly portion of the companymight as well be at home for all the care they are able tobestow on the younger. Wandering in shadow and light, in andout through the winding walks, blending in groups andscattered in couples, the young friends of Mrs. Powder didpretty much as they pleased. But one thing Wych Hazel hadcause to suspect as the evening wore on, that though herguardian proper was fast at-home, she had an active actualguardian much nearer to her, and in fact never very far offfor long at a time. Indeed he paraded no attentions, eitherbefore Wych Hazel's eyes or the eyes of the public; but if shewanted anything, Rollo found it out; if she needed anything, he was at hand to give it. His care did not burden her, normake itself at all conspicuous to other people; neverthelessshe surely could not but be conscious of it. This by the way. 

Dr. Maryland had not been gone long; the new arrivals werejust pouring in; when a seat beside Wych Hazel was taken byMr. Nightingale. 

'You were at Merricksdale the other night?' he said after thefirst compliments. 

'Yes, for a while. '

'I knew you would be. I was in despair that I could not getthere;--but engagements--contretemps--held us fast. I see now howmuch I lost. '

'Then you are released from imaginary evils, --that must be acomfort. '

'Do you know, ' said Stuart, 'I think the toilet is a fineart?'

She did not answer, looking at two or three somewhatremarkable specimens of the art that just then swept by. 

'Who is Miss Fisher, Mr. Nightingale?' she asked suddenly. 

'O don't you know Kitty? To be sure, she has just come. '

'No, I do not know her. May I know who she is?'

'Not to know her, argues--Well, it isn't so extreme a case asthat. Miss Fisher, for character, is the most amiable ofpersons; for accomplishments, she can do everything; forconnections, (do you always want to know people'sconnections?) she is a niece, I believe, of Dr. Maryland's. '

'Of Dr. Maryland's!--O that is good, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Is shelike Primrose?'

'She is more--like--a purple snap dragon, ' said Stuart, reflectively. 'Do you read characters in flowers? and thenlook out for their moral prototypes in the social world?'

'I do not believe I ever had the credit of "looking out" foranything!--Good evening, Mr. Simms. '

' "It was the witching hour of night!" '--quoted Mr. Simms witha deprecating gesture. 'Really, Miss Kennedy, I do not see whythe story books make it out such a misfortune for a man to beturned to stone. I think, in some circumstances, it is surelythe best thing that can happen to him. There is Nightingale, now--he would feel no end better for a slight infusion ofsilica!'--and with another profound reverence, Mr. Simms movedoff. 

'I should like to see the philosopher that would make aninfusion of silica!' muttered Stuart. '_He's_ never drunk it. What is the use of poets in the world, Miss Kennedy?'

'To furnish people with quotations--as a general thing, ' saidWych Hazel. 

'Precisely my idea. And that's stupid, for people don't wantthem. It looks bright out among Mrs. Powder's bushes--shall wego and try how it feels?'

It was pretty, and pleasant. Moonlight and lamps do make awitching world of it; and under the various lights flittedsuch a multitude of gay creatures that Mr. Falkirk's favouriteallusion to Enchanted ground would have been more than usuallyappropriate. All the colours in the rainbow, gleaming by turnsin all possible alternations and degrees of light and shadow;a moving kaleidoscope of humanity; the eye at least wasentertained. And Stuart endeavoured to find entertainment forthe ear of his companion. They wandered up and down, in andout; not meeting many people; in the changing lights it waseasy to miss anybody at pleasure. In the course of the walkStuart begged for a ride with Miss Kennedy, again negatived onthe plea that Miss Kennedy's horses were not yet come. Stuartimmediately besought to be allowed to supply that want for theoccasion. His aunt had a nice little Canadian pony. 

'I cannot tell, ' said Wych Hazel, gaily. 'You know I must askMr. Falkirk. '

'You do not mean that?' said Stuart. 

'Why of course I mean it. '

'Is it possible you are in such bondage? But by the way, thereis going to be some singing presently, which I think you willlike. I have been counting upon it for you. '

'Is there?' she said, --'where? You are right in the fact, Mr. Nightingale, but quite wrong as to terms. I mean, the termsgive a false impression of the fact. Where is the music to be, Mr. Rollo?' For Rollo, prowling about in the shrubbery, had atthe moment joined them. He answered rather absently, that hebelieved it was to be in the garden. 

'Do you understand, Mr. Nightingale?'--Wych Hazel resumed, turning to her other companion--'that is a mistake. '

'Can you prove it? But apropos, I am right in supposing thatyou are fond of music? That is true, isn't it?'

'Very true!'--But she was thinking. --'Mr. Rollo, how can youalways say what you mean, without saying what you do notmean?' she asked suddenly. 

'Choose your audience, ' said Rollo. 

'I like to say what I mean to anybody!'

'It is a great luxury. But the corresponding luxury of beingunderstood, is not always at command. Have you been puzzlingMr. Nightingale?' he asked in an amused voice. 

'Only presenting my ideas wrong end first, as usual. Is MissFisher here to-night?--and do you like her, Mr. Rollo?'

'Miss Fisher?--Kitty?--I have not seen her since I came homefrom Europe. But there is Prim. I must go and take care ofher. '

He disappeared. The walk and talk of the two others wasprolonged, until faint sweet notes of wind instruments fromafar called them to join the rest of the world. 

There was quite a little company gathered at this point, asmall clearing in the shrubbery around one side of which seatswere placed. Here the music lovers (and some others) wereranged, in a tiny semi-circle, half in shadow, half in light, as the lamps and moonbeams served. The light came clear uponhalf the little spot of greensward; glittering on leaves andbranches beyond, glanced on the tops of trees higher up. Alively chitter-chatter was going on, after the fashion of suchcompanies, when Wych Hazel came up, but a moment after thefirst notes of the music struck their ears, and all was ashushed as the moonlight itself. Only the notes of the harmonyfloated in and out through the trees; nothing else moved. 

Mrs. Powder had managed to secure some good musical talent, for the performance was of excellent quality. Perhaps summerair and moonbeams helped the effect. At any rate, the firstperformance, a duet between a flute and a violin, wasundoubtedly listened to; and that is saying much. Theperformers were out of sight. Then a fine soprano voicefollowed, in a favourite opera air. 

Wych Hazel was seated near one end of the semi-circle, withPrimrose just behind her; both of them in shadow. Rollo hadbeen standing in the full light just before them; but duringthe singing he was beckoned away and the spot was clear. Intwo minutes more Stuart Nightingale had brought a camp chairto Wych Hazel's side. He was quiet till the song was over andthe little gratified buzz of voices began. Under this cover hespoke low--

'Have you _two_ guardians, Miss Kennedy?'

'One has answered all my purposes hitherto, ' she answered witha laugh. 'Do I seem to need another?'

'Seem to _have_ another. Pardon me. Do you like to be taken careof?' He spoke in her own tone. 

'By myself--best! If I must speak the truth. '

'Ah, I thought so! who else can do it so well? A fine womanneeds no other control than her own. Am I to be disappointedof that ride?' He was speaking very softly. 

'Well, I will prefer my request, ' said Hazel. 'I wish I couldsay yes, at once. But how shall I let you now?'

Prim's hand touched her shoulder at this instant, fordelicious notes of two voices stole upon the air from thehiding place of Mrs. Powder's troup. The lady's voice they hadheard before; it was one of great power and training, and itcame now mingling with a sweet full bass voice. There was nomore talking until the music ended. It was a fine bit from aGerman opera. 

'How do you like that?' Stuart asked. 

Hazel drew a deep breath. 'Can you tell how you like things?'she said. 

'Yes!' said Stuart. 'After we get that ride I am talking of, I'll tell you how I liked it. By the way, I will do myself thehonour to be the receiver of your answer concerning it. But_this_ pleasure--no, --yes, I _do_ know why I enjoy it; but it is notbecause the voices are fine or the music expressive. Can youguess?'

'_Not_ for the music, and _not_ for the voices!' said the girllooking at him. 

'A puzzle, isn't it?' said Stuart. 'No; the music expressesnothing to me--this sort of music; and voices are voices--but--Icare only for voices that I know. '

Another little word of warning from Prim behind her, --'O Hazel, listen!'--prevented any reply; and Stuart's 'Yes, this issomething, now, '--made it unnecessary. And the singing wouldhave made it impossible. A man's voice alone; the same rich, full, sweet bass; in the ballad of the "Three Fishers. "Whether Mr. Nightingale had divined that somebody was near whoknew Wych Hazel, or merely acted on general prudentialmotives, he left his seat and stood a little apart while theballad was sung. 

'Do you like that?' Primrose whispered. 

'The voice--not the ballad. '

'Nor I either, ' said Prim. 'I don't see what he sings it for. '

There was but a moment's interval, and then the same voicebegan another strain, so noble, so deep, so thrilling, thatevery breath was held till it had done. The power of the voicecame out in this strain; the notes were wild, pleading, agonizing, yet with slow, sweet human melody. The air thrilledwith them; they seemed to float off and lose themselvesthrough the woods; sadly, grandly, the song breathed and felland ceased. Wych Hazel did not speak nor stir, nor look, except on the ground, even when the last notes had died away. Only her little hands held each other very close, her cheeksresting on them. 

'Yes, I know, ' said Primrose softly. 'That is Handel. '

Stuart Nightingale presently slid back to his seat; and nowthere came a stir; the music was discontinued. In a fewminutes Rollo came bringing refreshments; Mr. Nightingalebestirred himself in the same cause; and presently they wereall eating ices and fruits. At which juncture Miss Josephinejoined herself to the party, with one or two of her sort, while several gentlemen began to "fall in, " behind MissKennedy. 

'Did you have a good time at Merricksdale?' Josephine asked. 

'Not better than usual, ' Hazel answered. 

'Danced, didn't you? I wanted mamma to have dancing to-night, and she wouldn't. She's so awfully slow! O Mr. Rollo, do youlike dancing?'

'On anything but my own feet, ' said Rollo. 

'Anything but your own feet? How _can_ you dance on anything butyour own feet?'

'My horse's feet? Or what do you think of a good yacht and agood breeze?'

'Horrid! I never want to be in one. And _don't_ you likedancing? O why? Don't you, Miss Kennedy? don't you, Mr. Nightingale?'

'Depends on the dance, ' said Stuart. 'And on my partner. '

'O it don't signify what partner you have. In fact, you dancewith everybody, you know. That is the best fun. Don't you likethe German, Miss Kennedy?'

'Not with everybody, ' said Miss Kennedy, thinking of possiblepartners. 

'O but you must, you know, in the German--and that's the fun. Idon't think anything else _is_ fun. Of course the people are allproper. Don't you like the German, Mr. Rollo?'

'I do not dance it. '

'_Not?_ Don't you? O why? You do dance, I know, for I've seenyou; you waltz like a German, a man, I mean. Why don't youdance the German?'

'How does a German--a man, I mean--waltz, Miss Phinney? asdistinguished from other nationalities?' Stuart asked. 

'O, different. '

'Wont you tell us in what way? This is interesting. '

'It wont help you, ' said Josephine; 'and you dance well, besides. A German waltzes slow and elegantly. '

'And other people?'--

'You may laugh, but it's true; I've noticed it. An Englishmansways and a Frenchman spins, but a German floats. O it's justdelicious! Why dont you dance the German, Dane Rollo? You'renot pious. '

Rollo did not join in the general smile. He answeredcomposedly--

'What I would not let my sister do, Miss Josephine, I am boundnot to ask of another lady. '

'Why wouldn't you let your sister? You haven't got one, anddon't know. But that's being awfully strict. I had no idea youwere so strict. I thought you were jolly. '

'Could you hinder your sister?' Stuart asked with a slightlaugh. The answer was, however, unhesitating. 

'Why would you hinder her?' repeated Josephine. 

'Ask Kitty Fisher. '

'Kitty? Does _she_ know? And why shouldn't you tell us as wellas her?'

Rollo took Miss Kennedy's plate at the instant and went offwith it. 

'That's all bosh, ' said Josephine. 'I like people that arejolly. The German is real jolly. Last week we danced it withcandles--it was splendid fun. '

'Not here?' said one of the gentlemen. 

'Here? No. You bet. My mother is my mother, and nobody evercharged her with being jolly, I suppose. '

'How could you dance with candles?' said Primrose's astonishedvoice. 

'Yes. Six of us had great long wax candles, lighted; and westood up on a chair. '

'Six of you on a chair!'

'The old question of the schoolmen!'--cried Nightingale, bursting into a laugh. 

'Of course on six chairs, I mean. Of course. Six of us on achair!'--

'But what did you get on chairs for?'

'Why!--then the gentlemen danced round us, and at the signal--the leader gave the signal--the gentlemen jumped up as high asthey could and tried to blow out our lights; and they had tokeep step and jump; and if any gentleman could blow out thecandle nearest him he could dance with that lady. Didn't wemake them jump, though! We held our candles up so high, youknow, they could not get at them. Unless we liked somebody andwanted him for a partner. O we had a royal time!'

'Did the gentlemen dance--and blow--indiscriminately?' inquiredMiss Kennedy with a curl of her lips. 

'No, no!--how you do tell things, Josephine!' said Miss Burr. 'Two gentlemen for each chair, --and whichever of the two putthe candle out, he danced with the lady. '

'Kitty had four or five round her chair'--said Josephine. 

'And couldn't the lady help herself?' inquired Primrose, in atone of voice which called forth a universal burst oflaughter. 

'Why we _did_, ' said Josephine. 'If you don't like a man, youhold the candle up out of his reach. '

'You couldn't baffle everybody so, ' remarked Mr. Kingsland. Several gentlemen had come up during the talk, closing inround Miss Kennedy. 

'Mr. Rollo is right about one thing, ' said Miss Burr; 'nobodyhas seen the German who has not seen it led by Kitty Fisher. You should see her dance it, Miss Kennedy. '

'Yes, you should, ' echoed Mr. May, 'I had rather look on thanbe in it, for my part. '

'What do you think she did at Catskill the other day?' saidMiss Burr. 'She took a piece of ice between her teeth, andwent round the piazza asking all the gentlemen to take abite. '

'Clever Kitty! She'll work that up into a new figure--see ifshe dont, '--said Mr. Kingsland. 

'To be called the _noli me tangere!_' said Mr. May. 'Partnerssecured at the melting point. ' The other gentlemen laughed. 

'I see you and Kitty are at swords' points yet, ' said MissBurr. 

'No, ' put in Rollo--'she likes a foil better than a rapier. '

'Certainly it does not sound as if she was like you, Primrose, ' observed Wych Hazel. 

'Like Miss Maryland!--Hardly, ' said Mr. May. 'Nor like any oneyour thoughts could even imagine, ' he added softly. 

It was growing late now, and the moon gradually passing alongbehind the trees, found a clear space at this point, andlooked down full at the little party to see what they wereabout. Just then, from the distance, came a stir and a murmurand sound of laughing voices. 

'She's coming this minute!' said Mr. Kingsland. ' "Talk aboutangels"!--Your curiosity will soon be fed, Miss Kennedy, --andmay, perchance, like other things, grow by what it feeds on. Here comes the redoubtable Kitty herself!--Miss Fisher!--my pooreyes have seen nothing since they last beheld you!'

'Don't see much in ordinary, ' said a gay voice; and a younglady, --too young, alas, for the part she was playing!--sweptinto the circle. A very handsome girl, with a coronet of fairhair, from which strayed braids and curls and crinkles andpuffs and bands and flowers and ribbands; her dress in theextremest extremity of the fashion, very long, very low; withpuffs and poufs innumerable; the whole borne up by the highestand minutest pair of heels that ever a beguiling shoemakersent forth. She nodded, laughing, and held out her hands rightand left. 

'How d'ye do, Stephen?--Mr. Richard May!'--with a profoundreverence. 'And if there isn't our Norwegian back again! Gladto see you, Mr. Rollo. Have you leaned how to spell your nameyet?'

But to this lady Rollo gave one of his Spanish salutations;while Phinny Powder jumped up and exclaimed with pleasure, andPrimrose uttered from behind them her quiet 'how d'ye doKitty?' Wych Hazel on her part had risen too--drawing a littleback from the front, in the sudden desire for a distant viewfirst. 

'I see, ' Miss Fisher went on, speaking to Rollo. --'The e in themiddle as usual, and the i and the g to keep it there. Why, Prim, my dear child!--you here? Among all these black coats ofunclerical order?--How do you do?'--with an embrace. 'And how ismy uncle?--But where is Miss Kennedy? I am dying to see MissKennedy!--and they told me she was here. '

'The time to die is--_after_ you have seen Miss Kennedy, ' saidMr. Kingsland. 

'To my face!' said Kitty. 'Well!--That is she, I know, behindMr. May. Introduce us Richard, please. '

Mr. May stepped aside, and with extreme formality presentedMiss Fisher to the lady of Chickaree. Kitty touched hands, --andpaused, forgetting to take her own away. The young 'unwonted'face was certainly a novelty to her. And a surprise. 

'We shall all be jealous of her for her little mouth, ' was herfirst remark. 'Don't everybody generally kiss you, child, thatcomes near enough?'

Wych Hazel withdrew her hand, stepping back again in herastonishment, and surveying Miss Fisher. 

'People do not--generally--come near enough, ' she said, as wellas it could be said. 

There was a little round of applause from the gentlemen atthat. Kitty Fisher nodded, not at all displeased. 

'She'll do, ' she said. 'I was afraid she was nothing but amilksop, --all strawberries and cream. I vow she's handsome!'

'Handsome is that handsome does, ' said Rollo. 'Miss Kitty, will you sit down and take things calmly?'--offering a chair. 

'Yes, I'll take the chair; and Miss Kennedy and I'll dividethe civil speech between us, ' said Kitty Fisher, placingherself close by Hazel. 'It's awfully nice here. What are youall about?'

'Just unable to get on for want of Miss Fisher, ' said Stuart. 'Calling for you, in fact. '

'Echo answering "Where?" and all that, ' said Kitty. 

'Not at all. Echo said you were coming. '

'No dancing to-night?--awfully slow, isn't it? Beg pardon, Phinny; but you think just so yourself. Go off and start upthe band into a waltz, and we'll have it out before the oldlady gets the idea into her head. Come?'

Phinny started off on the instant with such energy andgoodwill to her errand, that in a few minutes the burst of awaltz air in the immediate neighbourhood of the partiesrequiring it, said that Miss Josephine had been successful. And she said it herself. 

'There!' she exclaimed; 'we've got it. Mamma'll never care, ifshe hears, nor know, if she sees. Come! Here are enough ofus. '

One and another couple sailed off from the group. Stuartoffered his hand to Wych Hazel. 'You waltz?' he said. 

She gave hers readily. The music had put her on tiptoe. Andpresently the little green was full of flying footsteps andfluttering draperies. As many as there was room for took theground; but there was good room, and the waltz was spirited. Some stood and looked on; some beat time with their feet. In ashadow of the corner where they had been talking, stood Primand Rollo; _not_ beating time. Prim put her hand on his arm, butneither spoke a word. 

'Shall we take a tangent, --and finish our stroll?' whisperedStuart, when they had whirled round the circle several times. 

'If you like, --one is ready for anything in such a night, ' saidHazel gleefully. She had gone round much like a thistledown, with a child's face and movement of pleasure. So, suddenly andsilently, as they were passing one of the alleys that led outfrom the little green, Stuart and his partner disappeared fromthe eyes of the spectators. It was certainly a pleasant nightfor a stroll. The light made such new combinations of oldthings, took and gave such new views; the pleasure of lookingfor them and finding them was ensnaring. Then the air was verysweet and soft, and--so was Stuart's conversation. 

Gliding on from one thing to another, even as their footstepswent, --mingling fun and fancy and common-place and flattery ina very agreeable sort of _pot-pourri_, --so they followed down onealley of the shrubbery and up another; winding about andabout, but keeping at a distance from other people. Until, much too soon for Stuart's intent, they were suddenly andquietly joined at a fork of the paths by Rollo, with MissFisher on his arm. 

As the waltz ceased, Rollo had secured without difficulty thecompanionship of Miss Fisher for a walk; and Miss Fisher neverknew how peculiar a walk it was, nor imagined that hercavalier was following a very fixed and definite purpose ofhis own. Nothing seemed less purposeful than the course theytook; it was no course; from one path diverging into another, changing from one direction to another; a hunted hare wouldscarce make more doublings, or anything else, except the dogin chase of the hare. Kitty only knew that she was very wellamused; her companion never left that doubtful, nor allowedher much leisure to make inconvenient observations; and, inshort, Kitty did not care where they went!--and Rollo did care. So it fell out, that quite suddenly, and as much to hiscompanion's surprise as anybody's, quite easily and naturallythey stepped out of one walk into another just as Wych Hazeland her attendant came to the same spot. 

'Your old proverbs are all stuff, ' Kitty was saying to hercompanion. 'I do think she's the prettiest thing I ever saw. Only she don't know her tools. Just wait till I've had her intraining a while!'

'Miss Kennedy, ' said Rollo, 'how would you like to be intraining?' They had somehow joined company with Stuart andWych Hazel, not by the former's good will, but he could notmanage to help it. 

'I may as well reserve my views on that subject for somebodywho wants to try, ' said the girl, with a laugh. She had notheard Kitty Fisher. 

'On what point just now do you think you need it?'

'I am in an extremely contented state of mind "just now, "thank you, Mr. Rollo. '

'Miss Fisher would not think that proves anything. '

'Does Miss Kitty offer her services as trainer?' asked Stuart. 

'Now just wait, both of you, ' said Kitty Fisher, 'and let MissKennedy get used to me a little. She's awfully shocked, tobegin with; and you're trying to make believe she'll never getover it. '

A slight gesture of Miss Kennedy's head, unseen by Miss Kitty, seemed to say that was extremely probable. 

'You should let her get accustomed to you by degrees, ' saidStuart. 'Hover about in the middle distance, suppose, withoutgetting out of the range of vision--so that you may make yourapproaches to her heart through her eyes. That is an excellentway. '

'Is it?' said Kitty. 'You've tried all ways, I presume. But Inotice that just now you seem to prefer the ear as a medium. Wouldn't she be splendid in the "Thread of Destiny, " Stuart?'

'I should think so, if I were at the end of the thread!'

'You would not suppose it, Miss Kennedy, ' said Rollo; 'but the"Thread of Destiny" is a silk ribband. The destiny is nottherefore always silken. '

'Much you know about it!' said Kitty. 'I just wish I could seeyou thoroughly wound up for once, with Bell Powder and two orthree other people. '

'Wych Hazel was growing rather weary of the talk. 'Who werethe singers to-night, Mr. Nightingale?' she said, pitching hervoice for his benefit alone. 

'Really, ' said he, in an answering tone, 'I am not musicalenough to be certain about it. Voices in common speech I canunderstand and appreciate; but in this kind of manifestation--Mrs. Powder knows her business. She had secured the right sortof thing. The principal singer is a lady who has studiedabroad; they are all visitors or dwellers in theneighbourhood. Did you like the performance?'

'Some of it; but the singing above all. You cannot understandthat?'

'If you and Miss Kennedy want to whisper, ' said Kitty Fisher, 'fall back a little, can't you, Mr. Nightingale? or turn downanother path. It disturbs my own train of thought, this tryingto hear what other people say. '

'Nobody would suspect Miss Fisher, ' said Rollo, dryly, 'ofbeing unwilling that anybody should hear what _she_ has to say. '

'Do you know, ' said Kitty, turning upon him with anemphasizing pressure of the arm she held, 'what my thoughtsreally _are_ at work upon?'

'Yes. '

'Let's hear. Tell me, and I'll tell you. '

'I do not think, ' said Rollo, slowly, --'it would be expedient. '

'Fudge! You know you couldn't. I have been trying to find outwhat so extremely sedate a person was after when he undertookto walk me round in the moonlight!'

And in defiance of everything, Wych Hazel's soft 'Ha! ha!'responded, --a little as if the question had perplexed her too. 

'Have you had a good time?' said Rollo coolly. 

'Very!--which makes it the more puzzling. Did Mr. Rollo everwalk with you in the moonlight, Miss Kennedy?'

'Yes. '

'Have a good time?' said Kitty. 

The girl hesitated; but among her accomplishments the art ofpretty fibs had not been included. The truth had to come outin some shape. 

'So far as Mr. Rollo could make it, '--she said at last. 

O how Kitty Fisher laughed! and the gentlemen both smiled. 

'Why, that is capital!' she cried. 'I couldn't have donebetter myself!' Wych Hazel blushed painfully; but Rollo'sanswer was extremely unconcerned. 

'I don't always give people a good time, ' he said. 'You arefortunate, Miss Kitty. I am impelled to ask, in thisconnection, how long Mrs. Powder expects us to make our goodtimes this evening?'

Upon comparing watches in the moonlight, it was found that thenight was well on its way. There was nothing more to do but togo home. 

On the way home, a little bit of talk occurred in therockaway, which may be reported. Going along quietly in thebright moonlit road, Rollo driving, Primrose suddenly asked aquestion--

'Didn't you use to be a great waltzer, Duke?'

'A waltzer?--yes. '

'Then what made you not waltz to-night?'

Rollo leaned back against one side of the rockaway, andanswered, while the old horse walked leisurely on--, 'I have looked at the subject from a new point of view, Prim. '

'Have you?--From what point of view, Duke?' said Primrose, muchinterested. 

'I have made up my mind, ' said Rollo slowly, 'I shall waltz nomore, --except with the lady who will be my wife. And when Iwaltz with her, --she will waltz with nobody else!'

Prim sat back in her corner, and spoke not a word more. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE LOSS OF ALL THINGS. 

'And how do you like your new neighbour, Prim?' said the youngDr. Maryland the first night of his return home. He had talkedall tea-time to the collective family without once mentioningMiss Kennedy's name, and now put the question to his sister asthey sat alone together in the twilight. 

'O Arthur, _very_ much. '

'You see a good deal of her?' was the next question, askedafter a pause. 

'Y--es, ' said Primrose, doubtfully, 'At least, when I am withher I think I do; when I am away from her it seems little. '

'I must ride over there and call, to-morrow, ' said Dr. Arthur. 'Will you go too?'

And so it fell out that Dingee was summoned to the door nextday to usher in the party. 

'Yes'm, Miss Ma'land--Miss Hazel, she in, sure!--singin' toherself in de red room, '-- and Dingee led the way. 

It was a new room to most of the guests. A room that seemedtwo sides woodland and one side sunshine. Walls with deepcrimson hangings, and carpets of the same hue; and quaint oldcarved oak chairs and tables, and a bookcase or two, and oakenshelves and brackets against the crimson of the walls. Themorning had been cool enough, there at Chickaree, for a woodfire, though only the embers remained now; and in front ofwhere the fire had been, sat the young mistress of the househalf hid in a great arm-chair. Soft white folds fell allaround her, and two small blue velvet slippers took their easeupon a footstool; with white laces giving their cobweb finishhere, there and everywhere. A book was in her hand, and on hershoulder the grey kitten purred secure, in spite of the silkycurls which now and then made puss into a pillow. Now andthen. For while Miss Kennedy sometimes made believe to read, an sometimes really sang--pouring out scraps of song like awild bird--yet in truth her attention was oftenest given to thegreat picture which hung in one recess. And then her head wentdown upon the grey kitten. Just now, when the visitors camein, she was searching for the notes of that last song at Mrs. Powder's; trying apparently, to catch it and bring it back;her girl's voice endeavouring to represent that which hergirl's heart had never known. 

The picture--I may describe it here--was that of a young manbound to a tree and pierced with arrows. No human witnesses insight, except in the extreme distance; and over sky and earthno sunlight, but instead the deepening shadows of night. Butthe presence of the one was not noticed, nor the presence ofthe other missed. Away from earth, and lifted above suffering, the martyr's eyes looked to the opening clouds above his head, where were light, and heavenly messengers, and the palm-branch, and the crown. Something in the calm clear facechecked Miss Kennedy's bursts of song as often as she turnedthat way--the high look so beyond her reach. 

'What are you doing, Hazel?' said Prim's sweet voice. 

'Puzzling, '--said Hazel, jumping up, and lifting one hand tosupport the kitten. 'Dr. Maryland, I am very glad to see you!O Prim, how happy you must be!'

'You didn't look in the least like a person in a puzzle, ' saidPrimrose, after the first compliments were passed. 'What couldyou be puzzling about, dear?'

'That picture. It always puzzles me. And so when I getbefogged over other things, I often come here and add this tothe number. '

'You are hardly far enough on in your studies yet, MissKennedy, to understand that picture, ' said Dr. Arthur, who wasconsidering it very intently himself. 

'My studies! Painting, do you mean? Or what do you mean?' saidWych Hazel. 

'What does the picture say to you, Miss Kennedy?'

'That is just what I cannot find out, ' said Hazel, jumping upagain and coming to stand at his side. 'I cannot read it abit. '

'You have not learned the characters in which it is written, yet, ' said Dr. Arthur, with a glance at her. 

'She had not learned much, ' said Primrose, smiling. 

'Can _you_ read it?' said Hazel, facing round. 

'Why yes, Hazel. '

'Well, ' said the girl, half impatiently, 'then how come I tobe such an ignoramus?'

'There are some things, ' said Dr. Arthur, with another swiftlook at his companion, 'which everybody can learn at once. Butthere are others, Miss Kennedy, which sometimes must waituntil the Lord himself sets the lesson. I think this is one ofthose. '

'I shall ask your father, ' said Hazel, decidedly. 'He alwaysthinks I ought to know _everything_ at once. '

'Oh, Hazel, my dear, how can you say so?' cried Prim. 'Indeed, papa is never so unreasonable. And there he is this minute, and you can ask him. '

The long windows of the room looked upon a stretch ofgreensward spotted with trees. Coming across this bit of thegrounds, Dr. Maryland and Rollo saw one of the windows open, and caught sight also of the party within. Even as Dr. Maryland's daughter spoke, they stepped upon the piazza andcame into the room. 

'That is a picture of the loss of all things, ' Dr. Arthur wassaying. 'How would you be able to understand?' But then hestepped back, and left the explanation in other hands. 

' "The loss of all things!" ' Hazel repeated, bewildered. 'Howdo you do, Mr. Rollo?--Dr. Maryland, there is always somespecial reason why I am especially glad to see you!'

'What is the reason now, my dear?' said the doctor, with avery benign look on his face. 

'These two people, ' said Wych Hazel, with an airy gesture ofher head towards her other guests, 'find me in a puzzle andpush me further in. And I want to be pulled out. '

'In what direction shall I pull?' asked the doctor. 

'Well, sir, --O Mr. Rollo, don't you want the cat?--I know youlike cats, ' said Hazel, 'and she is in my way. --It is onlyabout my old picture here, Dr. Maryland, which they pretend tounderstand. Dr. Arthur says it means "the loss of allthings, "--and that does not clear up my ideas in the least. Whymust I "wait" to know what it means?' she added, linking herhands on the Doctor's arm, and raising her eager, vivid faceto his. 'Prim says I "don't know much"--but I do not see whythat should hinder my learning more. '

How strong the contrast with the martyr's face! how high andstill and calm the look of him who had overcome! How tender, how open to sorrow, how susceptible of loss, that of the girlon whom as yet the rough winds had not blown! Dr. Arthur'seyes went soberly from one to the other. Rollo had taken thelittle cat from its position on its mistress's shoulder, andnow stood with it established on his own, quietly and somewhatgravely attending to what was going on. 

'What do you want to learn, my dear?' said Dr. Maryland, onhis part gazing at the picture now. 

'That picture always perplexes me, ' said Hazel. 'What does itmean? And why do I love it so much, not knowing what itmeans?'

Standing and looking at the picture, Dr. Maryland answered inthe words of Paul: ' "What mean ye to weep and to break mineheart? for I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die atJerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus. " '

'But papa, ' said Primrose, 'that doesn't tell her what itmeans. Didn't Arthur say right--"The loss of all things"?'

'It means, ' said Dr. Maryland, --'Human weakness and God'sstrength. Human emptiness and God's fulness. Earthly defeatand heavenly victory. How should you understand it, my dear, who have not begun the fight yet?'

'But then, papa, why does she love it so much?'

Dr. Maryland hesitated, and it was Rollo who answered:

'Because the fight is _in her_. '

'That's a queer way of putting it, ' said Dr. Maryland; 'butperhaps it's true. I hope it is. '

The girl gave a swift look over her shoulder which it is to behoped Mr. Rollo liked, as it was meant for him. So sparklingwith the joy of being understood, so stirred with that suddennew life and purpose which appreciation wakes up in somenatures. It was but an instant--then her eyes came back to Dr. Maryland, and were all quiet again. _He_ did not think so, evidently. Which was right? Of what did he doubt her capable?

'Weakness, ' 'emptiness, ' 'defeat, ' she said, recalling hiswords. 'Is _that_ what I am to find?'

'You do not think it possible, ' said Dr. Maryland. 

'How should she, papa?' said Primrose. 

'Well, my dear, it is not possible she should. And yet, Hazel, these are the only way to find strength, fulness, and victory. It is a problem to you, my dear; only to be worked out. '

'Does _every one_ work it out, papa?'

'No, my dear; two thirds of men never do. And so they go onforever saying, "Who will shew us any good?" '

'_He_ did not find defeat, ' said Hazel, looking at the martyr'sface, and somehow forgetting the arrows and the cords. 

'The story is, ' said Dr. Maryland, 'that he was an officer, high in trust and command, in the service of the Emperor(Diocletian. ). For owning himself a Christian, he was strippedof power and place, delivered into the will of his enemies, tobe bound to a tree and shot to death with arrows. There is thehuman defeat, my dear Hazel. What you see in the face there, is the mental victory;--some of the struggle, too. '

' "Mental victory" '--she said half to herself, considering thewords. 'I ought to be equal to that. Did you mean "defeat, "Dr. Arthur, by "the loss of all things?" '

'No, ' said Dr. Arthur, 'I meant anything but that. I meantnothing worse than the exchange of a handful of soiled paperfor both the hands full of solid gold. '

'Ah you all talk such riddles!' said the girl, knitting herbrows. 'What would it be to me, I mean? That I should loseChickaree?--but that is impossible. '

'It was said, ' Dr. Maryland answered, --'and the Lord said it--"Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot by my disciple. " '

'Yes, sir, but--' she said quickly, --then checked herself. 

'Well, my dear? My words will come best in answer to yourquestions, for then they can meet the very point of yourdifficulty. '

'You will not think me disrespectful, sir?--I was going to say, _you_ do not do that'--said Hazel, hesitating over her words. 'None of you. You have Prim and Dr. Arthur, --and Dr. Arthurcomes home, and then Prim has her brother. And there is thepretty house, and books, and engravings. I don't know anythingabout Mr. Rollo, of course, ' she said, correcting herself, 'but I mean the rest of you. '

'May we sit down?' said Dr. Maryland, 'Dane and I have walkedup from Mr. Falkirk's. Unless Dane likes to stand toaccommodate the cat!' said the doctor with a humourous glanceat the shoulder where pussy sat with shut eyes, purringcontentedly. 'It's a fair question, Hazel; and an easymistake. But my dear, so far as I know, Prim and Arthur and Ihave not kept anything. For myself, ' said Dr. Maryland, lifting up a bright face, 'all that I have is my Master's. Iam not the owner even of myself. So long as his service bidsme use the things entrusted to me in the way I am doing, Iwill use them so. And whenever his honour, or his work, callsme to give up anything or everything of all these--my home, mychildren, or my own life--I am ready; it is the Lord's now; heshall do with them all what he will. Do you understand?'

'And Arthur and I would say the same, ' added Primrose. 

Her brother answered in the words so long age written, so manytimes lived out. ' "Not a myself--but Christ; not a my will--butChrist. Not a mine ease, or my profit, or my pleasure, butChrist. " '

The girl looked from one to the other, as each spoke, with aflash of sympathy; even as thoughts stir and kindle at thesound of a bugle call, while yet they know not what it says. But then she turned suddenly round and looked at Rollo. Anexpectant look, that waited for him to speak, --that gathered--orhe fancied so--a shade of disappointment as it turned awayagain to the face on the wall. She sat silent, leaning herchin upon her hands. His look had been perfectly grave, thoughtful and quiet; but otherwise did not reveal itself. There was a general silence. Then Dr. Maryland said, 'Do you understand the paradox, my dear?'

'I think I must be the paradox myself, ' Hazel answered with ahalf laugh. 'I could do that--I could bear the arrows: I thinkI could. But you never saw anybody, sir, that liked giving up--anything--less than I do. '

'You would rather bear the arrows than the cords, ' said Dr. Arthur Maryland. 'It is easier. '

'Depends on the people, ' said Primrose. 

' "As having nothing, and yet possessing all things, " ' Dr. Maryland added rather dreamily. 

'I suppose, ' said Rollo, with a moment's deep look into WychHazel's eyes, 'the free spirit is beyond bonds. '

'That is it, my boy!' exclaimed Dr. Maryland. 'Think--when Pauland Silas were in the dungeon at Philippi--a dreary place, mostlikely; and they, beaten and bleeding and sore, stretched andconfined in the wooden frame which I suppose left them not onemoment's ease, --at midnight it was, they fell to such singingand praising that the other prisoners waked up and listened tohear the song. '

Hazel crossed her slender wrists and sat looking at them, imagining the bonds. 

'Do you think it is all _in me?_' she said, with another suddenappeal to Rollo. 

Rollo was not a man fond of wearing his heart upon his sleeve. Another momentary glance went through her eyes, as it were, and was withdrawn, before he gave a short, grave 'yes. ' Hazelwent back to her musings without another word, and only theleast bit of a triumphant curl about the corners of her mouth. 

'I wonder how it would feel?' she said, crossing anduncrossing her hands. 

'What?' said Primrose. 

'Bonds--and chains, ' said the girl, clasping her wrist tight. 'To have my hands tied!'

'You are not called upon to find out, my dear, ' said Dr. Maryland; 'that is not required of you. But remember, Hazel, no bonds are heavy but love wears. '

'Depends upon how they get on, sir, ' she said, quickly. 

'What?' said the doctor, with a somewhat comic twinkle cominginto his eye. 'How is that?'

'I hate bonds, Dr. Maryland!--from the very bottom of myheart. '

'You have never worn the sort I spoke of, my dear, ' he said, smiling. 'I never heard anybody complain of them. '

'What sort?' said Hazel. 'Bonds are bonds. '

'But love likes her bonds, ' said the doctor. 

The girl shook her head. 'She likes her way, sir! in my case. When Mr. Falkirk forbids me to--well, no matter what, --to dosomething, ' she said, dropping her eyes, 'I do suppose I obeybetter than if I didn't love him. But I hate it all the same. It makes me feel--like my name, ' she added with a laugh. 

'Love likes her bonds, ' the doctor repeated, shaking his head. 

'And the arrow that is weighted flies freest against thewind, ' Rollo remarked. 

'What do you mean by that?' said Primrose. 'Duke, you lookvery funny with that cat upon your shoulder. '

'Pussy likes it, ' said Rollo. 

'Dane, have you finished your business with Hazel?' said Dr. Maryland. 'I must be going presently. '

'Well, sir, --if Prim and Arthur will excuse me. '

He brought himself, pussy cat and all, to a chair by WychHazel's side. The others drew off a little. 

'I am going away, ' he said. 'Business takes me to New York fora week or two. Possibly to Chicago; but I hope not. I hope tobring your horses back with me. Do you want to give me anydirections respecting them?'

'Directions?--I think not. O yes!' said Hazel, touching herfingers to the cat's head and instantly withdrawing them, --'Iwant my pony to be very fast. Because----' but there shestopped. 

'Well?' said he. 

'That is all. '

'It is unfinished. '

'Cannot you do anything without knowing why?'

'Unbusinesslike. But I'll do my best. '

'Well, '--said Hazel, 'I told Mr. Falkirk. --Of course I like togo fast, for its own sake, --and then if I ever had to ride formy life!'--

It was spoken so demurely that only her cheeks betrayed her. Over their treason the girl grew impatient. 

'I just want a fast horse. Don't you know what that means, without explanation?'

'Why no, ' said he, probably enjoying his advantage though heheld it after his usual undemonstrative fashion. Exceptingthat his eyes took a further advantage which none others everdid. No flattery in them, nor conventional deference, andnothing like Dr. Maryland's benign regard, or Mr. Falkirk'swatchful one. Those eyes went down into hers with a sort ofgrave taking possession, or holding it; something more thanbenignity, and coming much nearer than watchfulness. Rollo'smanner had often an indefinable tinge of the same expression. 'There are so many sorts of fast horses, ' he went on. 'Do youwant to run for your life? or canter? or trot?'

'Trot in ordinary--run upon occasion. '

'Is trotting your favourite gait?'

'It is more like the wind, ' said Wych Hazel. 'I remember onegood canter--but all the rest made one think of the snail thatwent forward three feet and back two. '

'You must have had an experience! I'll try and secure both foryou; but I may not be able, just at first. Don't you want totake pussy in safe keeping again? I am afraid she would notapprove of my further companionship. '

'Well--give her to me then, ' she said, holding out her hands. He smiled a little at that, dislodged pussy and placed her inthem, then rose up and offered his own. 

A party of gentlemen came up the steps as Dr. Maryland and hiscompanions went down. Clearly, the thoughtful time of themorning was at an end. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

IN THE GERMAN. 

There come, sometimes, in certain lives, certain days andweeks which seem to be all adrift and beyond legislation. Thepeople who might exercise control cannot; and the people willnot who can; and so the hours sweep on in a rushing stream ofevents and consequences, which every now and then flingssomebody upon the rocks. Or it may be, in very happy cases, only some _thing;_ but until this is made sure the lookers-onfeel anxious. 

So felt Mr. Falkirk, a prisoner still with his lame ankle; sofelt (probably) Mr. Rollo, called suddenly away by business ahundred miles off. So certainly felt Mrs. Bywank, watching heryoung lady with motherly eyes. But the young lady herself feltquite at ease, and as she had said, 'content. ' Why not? Withflowers by day and serenade by night; with game from every bagand trout from every hook; with cavaliers starting up out ofgreensward and woodland whenever she went out; with carriagesand horsemen always at the door when she was at home. Theserenades indeed were shared impartially with Mr. Falkirk andGotham; for Wych Hazel still kept her room in the cottage, andwas there by night. But the days were often spent in the houseon the hill; and the distance between the two was often--to saythe least--not made alone. The new saddle-horses had not yetarrived, and no others were countenanced by Mr. Falkirk; butsuch walks had their facilities, even without the possibleindoor extensions which sometimes took place. And for eveningpurposes an equipage had been arranged which relieved MissKennedy of all dependence on her neighbours. Mr. Falkirk'sprostrate condition prevented her giving any entertainments asyet; but she went everywhere, with Gotham--grim and trusty--uponthe box; and more and more the days, as they went on, broughteverybody to her feet. It was excellent fun! For it is reallydelightful to be liked; and admiring looks you cannot quitemeet have yet their fascination, and the words you scarce hearhave their charm. Altogether there was a strong flavour ofenchantment abroad; and it seemed probable that the prince wassomewhere. The princess had not seen him yet, that she knewof; but undoubtedly she was learning that some day she might. Yet Hazel took the knowledge in a pretty way. Too innatelytrue to flirt, too warm-hearted to trifle, too real a woman tofollow in the steps of Kitty Fisher; and, it may be said, thinking far too much of herself to descend from her vantageground of feminine reserve. Perhaps there was no one thingwhich caught and _held_ her admirers like this: the real girlishdignity which made them keep their proper distance. The mostunscrupulous of them all would as soon have dared anything asto venture (to her) an unauthorized touch, or a word thatsavoured of freedom. So far, she went safe through the fire. If she could have known, poor child, what sort of a fire itwas; if her thoughts had even dimly imagined what men old inthe world may be; no kid glove nor silken tissue would havebeen deemed thick enough to fend off the contact. But she knewnothing of all that, except by the instinct which now and thengave her a sudden sheer. As it was, she was intensely amused, and half out of her wits with fun and frolic and utter lightheartedness; seeing no harm, imagining no evil; quiteregardless of Mrs. Bywank's wise maxim that what men of sensedisapprove, a woman--as a rule--had better not do. And for awhile there were not men of sense at hand to give her counsel. 

Mr. Falkirk looked on from too great a distance to point hisstrictures; Gotham's grumbles over the serenades and thecavaliers only helped the excitement. And since Mr. Falkirkwould not let her fling her written thanks out of the window, the _spoken_ thanks followed, as a matter of course, andeffected quite as much. 

And yet, you will say, no harm came, and everything was as itshould be. Well, there are some who plunge through the mudankle-deep; and there are others that got but over shoe; andhere and there one that crosses on tiptoe; but you wouldrather that they all chose a better road. And intoxication isnot a good thing, whatever may be the means thereto; and thesweet, fresh years of which Dr. Maryland had spoken, werequite too precious to be spun off to the music of Strauss, orwilted down by late hours, or given up wholly to hearing thatMiss Kennedy was the one of all the world. Not so do naturesenlarge and characters develop to their fairest proportions;not so do souls grow strong and noble for the coming work oflife. 

Kitty Fisher was not exactly jealous of all this--or had toomuch sense to shew it; but deep in her heart she did wish shecould dismount Wych Hazel from her pedestal, that comparisonsmight be made on level ground. Kitty would not have beentimid, for the world; and yet the shy blushes which came asfreely as ever to Miss Kennedy's cheeks did somehow give her apang. And while nothing could have bought off her daringspeech and behaviour, she yet knew it _was_ a pretty thing tohave the deference which always approached the young lady ofChickaree. 

'I must get that out of her, ' she said to herself. 'She'sbound to give it up. Wait till I get her fairly into theGerman!'

And so far she succeeded. Miss Kennedy did get 'fairly in, '--but as yet the rest of the plan had failed. Hazel danced, andled, and followed, in the wildest gaiety, within certainlimits; beyond them she would not go; meeting all KittyFisher's proposals with a look of incredulous disgust andsurprise that generally cut short the business for that time. And gentlemen who stood by laughed and applauded; and if Hazelhad known just _why_ they clapped hands, and just what she wasavoiding, she would have wanted to stand no longer in theirneighbourhood just then. 

Balls followed dinners, and one German came close on the heelsof another, with pic-nics, boating parties, croquet parties, and open-air breakfasts; and everywhere the young queen heldher court; with beauty, and grace, and money, and a faultlesstoilet. 

Now in the selfishness of this self-seeking world, ourinterest in a thing, our judgment of it, does very much dependupon its connection with ourselves. Have we any shares in thefield for sale?--if not, why, manage it as you will, sunshineand clouds are alike to us. But if we have, the interest ofthe matter changes at once, and we are blind no more. 

Following upon sundry other festivities came a brilliantGerman at Mme. Lasalle's. Thither came everybody, in propertime; thither, rather late, and fresh-returned from hisjourney, came Mr. Rollo; and making his way easily along, through rooms ablaze with light and almost faint with flowers, he reached a point where 'The Thread of Destiny' was in fullprogress, tangling itself up about Wych Hazel. It wasimpossible not to make her the centre of the group, though sixladies stood there together; and about them all, one end of along white ribband in his hand, danced Mr. Nightingale--notsaying, exactly--

'I wind, I wind, Hoping my true love to find'--

but perhaps thinking it in his heart; for when coil after coilhad gone round the blooming prisoners, and the white sheencame suddenly to an end at Wych Hazel, it was with veryevident satisfaction that Mr. Nightingale took her hand andled her out--his partner by the thread of destiny. 

Nothing could be prettier than she was through it all; neithergiggling nor smirking, nor making remarks like Miss Powder andthe rest; her lovely shoulders veiled beyond all reach ofcriticism, her eyes intent upon the ribband, her thoughtsintent upon the game. So that when all came to a climax ather, she laughed right out--the merriest laugh of glee andsatisfaction. Very pretty!--was it anything more? Do you (apartfrom dancing) give your daintiest possessions into commonhands? Why, you will not let a servant even dust the chinashepherdess on your mantel-piece!--but any hands that you know--and any that you don't know--may touch and clasp and supportthe young daughters and sisters of your love, and whirl themabout the room, as you would not have your shepherdess treatedfor all the world. 

Cajolements did not avail that evening to induce Mr. Rollo todance; and they were tried. He was in what Wych Hazel mighthave called a very Spanish mood. Not to her; indeed he neverapproached her nor sought to interrupt the pretensions ofthose who crowded round her, courting her favour andworshipping her pleasure, and craving to be made ministers ofthe same. She was in a throng, and he did not try to penetrateit. Why he stayed so long was a mystery; for what is a Germanif you do not dance? He was not a mere idle spectator, noridle at all, it is true; he made himself busy enough, takingelderly ladies to supper and serving younger ones with beef-tea; but those are not engrossing amusements. Mme. Lasalledeclared he was very useful; and watched to see what it meant;but beyond that he could not be seen to look at anybody inparticular, she could resolve herself of nothing. Certainly hetook leave a little before Wych Hazel left the room; they werenot together, the lady was sure. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

IN THE ROCKAWAY. 

When, however, a little later, that young lady came forth toher carriage, attended as usual by a retinue of servitors, asingle figure was standing by her carriage door. He stoodaside to let the devotees put Wych Hazel into the littlerockaway which was her sole present equipage; but when thelast words had been said and the last man stepped back, Rollostood at the door before Dingee had time to shut it. 

'Will you give me a seat as far as Mr. Falkirk's?' he said, looking in. 

Now when you have not seen a person for six weeks or so, arequest for a seat in your carriage is not generally theopening remark, and Wych Hazel paused in a sort ofastonishment. Then another thing made her hesitate. 

'If you will answer it to Mr. Falkirk, ' she said. 'You know Iam forbidden to give any one a seat in my carriage. Have you aspecial permit, Mr. Rollo?'

'I never ask for what I cannot have, ' he said, jumping in. Andthen he offered her his hand. 'How do you do?'

'Very well. I should think that must make you an adept inPrim's beloved art of waiting, ' said Wych Haze. 

'If the lesson must be learnt, I would rather wait beforeasking. After that, I believe I do not know how to practiseit. How do you feel about waiting for your horses?'

'Feeling is dead, and impatience is all tired out with hardwork and want of sympathy. So it is pretty quiet just now. '

'Want of sympathy?' he said, inquiringly. 

'Yes. I used to fume about it a little, but Mr. Falkirk onlysaid "My dear, " and a few other things of a cooing nature. '

'I believe I have brought you what you will like. '

'O, have you?' said the girl, with her musical intonations, and a degree of eagerness which spoke impatience in faircondition. 'You are very good to take so much trouble, Mr. Rollo! But I am more glad than you can imagine. '

'Then I am very glad, ' said he. 'Will you trust me to driveyou the rest of the way, if I displace Mr. Gotham? I shareyour infirmity of impatience sometimes. '

'An infirmity, you call it?--Well, displace anybody you like, but me, ' said Wych Hazel, arranging herself in a small luxuryof fatigue against the not too luxurious back of the rockaway. Her companion was silent a few minutes until the carriagepassed out from the Moscheloo grounds and had gone a few rods;then he tapped Mr. Falkirk's factotum on the shoulder. 

'Mr. Gotham, ' said he, in tones of pleasant authority, 'Ican't stand anybody's driving but my own to-night. Stop, ifyou please. You and Dingee may take a place with my man; mytrap is just behind. Tell him to keep close and follow. '

'Sorry to do h'anything that looks un'ansome, sir, ' saidGotham, swallowing his surprise with the adroitness of longpractice, 'but I 'ave Miss 'Azel in charge, sir. '

'You _had_, my friend. I will relieve you. Come, jump out, anddon't keep your young lady waiting. ' The voice was of calmauthority which most people understand and obey. And WychHazel laughed. 

'I'm sure I can't say what Mr. Falkirk will think, sir!' saidGotham, in a displeased voice. ' 'Owever--I will h'assume it'sh'all right, sir. --Though why he couldn't drive his h'own team, if he'd such an 'ankering for the ribbands, ' he muttered toDingee as he got down, 'I'm sure is a perplexity. '

'Wanted to drive Missee Hazel, ' said Dingee, climbing like acat into the other conveyance, and proceeding to drive Mr. Rollo's man nearly out of his wits. 'You never does sound degen'lman, Mas' Gotham. Telled you so long ago. '

Having got his wish, Mr. Rollo drove regularly enough for amile or two; till all carriages going their way had passedbefore or dropped behind or turned off, and they had the roadentirely to themselves. The moon was riding high, and thoughan old moon, gave enough light to make driving a thing of nodifficulty. Thus far Rollo had driven in comparative silence, with only a word or two occasionally to Wych Hazel. He had notremoved himself by any means out of her companionship, butthrowing himself sideways on the front seat of the carriage, looked sometimes out and sometimes in. Now, when the road wastheir own, and the old horse could find his way along withvery little guiding, and the moonlight seemed to illuminatenothing so much as the stillness, Rollo turned his head andspoke. 

'Miss Kennedy, do you like to have people come suing to youwith petitions?'

'I think I might--if I could answer them myself, ' she said, thinking of some that had been preferred that night. 'But whenmy yes or no depends on somebody else, it is rather stupid. One tires of a perpetual referee at one's back. '

'This depends on nobody but you. But I am rushing into themiddle of things, ' said Rollo, giving the old steed anintimation that he need not absolutely fall back upon walking. 'Miss Kennedy, I am coming to you with a great petition to-night--and I am too impatient to wait for it. '

'Mr. Rollo with a petition!' said Wych Hazel. 'And impatient!Well--then why _does_ he wait?'

His voice told well enough why he waited, at least in part;the earnestness of it was so blended with not a little anxietyand not a little tenderness. He spoke slowly. 

'Miss Hazel, ' he said, 'you have neither father nor mother norbrother nor sister. I am almost as much alone in the world. May I speak to you as one who knows what it means?'

' "It?"--being alone?' she said. 

'Just that. Having no one near enough to care or dear enoughto dare, what would be for your happiness. As it is so withyou, and I know it, may I for once step into the gap, withoutbeing too severely punished by you for my venturing?'

'Why I thought you always ventured, --everything!' she said, stirring up now in her surprise. 

'Then shall I make my petition? I never dared so much in mylife as I am daring now. '

'Of course you may make it, ' said Wych Hazel. 'As fast as youlike. I shall begin to be impatient too. '

'If you choose to question me for my reasons, I will have thehonour to give them. Or if you ask what right I have to movein the matter, I will answer that, too. '

'Beforehand?'

'Certainly. If you wish. '

'No matter, ' she said, with a slight laugh which was yet alittle disturbed. What was looming up behind this barricade ofpreliminaries? 'I thought you based your right just now-- Butnever mind. Go on, please. '

He was silent nevertheless a minute, while the old horse cameto an unchallenged slow walk. Then Rollo ungloved his righthand and held it out. 

'I cannot see your face, ' said he. 'Give me your hand, so thatI may know, while I hold it, that you are not displeased. '

'Why, Mr. Rollo?' said Hazel, with the same half laugh, 'youare very--extraordinary! It strikes me your one petition coversa good many. Must I take the glove off?--if you are to beindulged. '

'There!' said he, taking her hand in the same warm firm graspshe had known before. 'I am going to ask you to promise mesomething--that it will not be pleasant to promise. MissHazel'--speaking low and slowly--'do not dance round dances anymore!'

The tone was low, also it was very earnest and very grave. 

'What?' she said, in a sort of but half comprehending way. 'Why not? what is the matter with them? I am hardly the leastbit tired. '

'You don't know!' he said, with a slight pressure of the handhe held. 'You don't know. This is why not, Miss Hazel--that Iwould not see my sister in them. Do you understand?'

'O yes, ' she answered. 'I have seen people before who did notlike dancing, --two or three, perhaps. But there is alwayssomebody to dislike everything, I think. You do not enjoy ityourself, Mr. Rollo, --and so you do not know. '

'I have danced twenty dances where you have danced one. I knowwhat they are made of. You only know how they look. '

'Hardly that, ' said Wych Hazel. 'I know a little how theyfeel. I have never had an outside view, I believe. '

'Can you do me the great honour to take my view, --and my wordfor it?'

'If you liked flying to music as well as I do, you would takemine, ' she said. 'Air is better than earth, when you can getit. '

'Do you think I would wish to interfere with your pleasure, orpresume to interfere with your actions, without reasons sostrong that I can hardly express their significance? Believeme, if you knew these round dances as well as I know them, youwould never be mixed up in one of them any more. '

'Mixed up?' said Wych Hazel. 'Do you suppose I do all the wildthings some people do, Mr. Rollo?'

'No, ' he said; but he left his plea standing. 

'Well then what is the matter? If ever you hear of my"exchanging hospitalities, " I will give you leave for alecture a mile long. '

'Your eyes are innocent eyes and do not see. Can you not trustme far enough to act upon my knowledge, and distrust yours?'

'But trusting you does not make me distrust myself, ' she said. 'And even Prim confessed to me once that you do occasionallymake mistakes. '

'I do not in this, ' said he, very gravely. 'Yet there is noparticular reason why you should believe me. Miss Kennedy--youcannot continue this pastime, and keep yourself. '

'What do you mean?' she said quickly. 

'You cannot remain just what you are. '

'Mr. Falkirk thinks there is room for improvement, ' said WychHazel, with some coldness; 'but your words seem to point theother way. Perhaps you will be kind enough to tell me at onceall that you think it needful I should hear in the connexion. '

'You need not take that tone, ' he said; 'but perhaps I _must_displease you. Miss Kennedy, I have always thought of you asone who would never permit a liberty to be taken with her. '

'I am happy that we agree for once, ' she said, with a lift ofthe eyebrows and a voice to match. 'It is precisely the way inwhich I have always thought of myself. '

'Follow that out!' said he half laughing, and at the same timeclasping a little closer the hand he held. 

'Well--I have followed it out all my life. I never do, Mr. Rollo. '

'Not knowingly. But-- How shall I tell you!' said he, in a sortof despair. And the old horse found it was necessary for himto move on. 

'It must be said!' he broke out again, 'and there is no onebut me to do it. Miss Hazel, you allowed liberties to be takenwith you to-night. '

The little hand he was holding shrank perceptibly. Nottwitching itself away, but as it were withdrawing itself intoitself, and away from him. Otherwise she sat absolutely still. 

'Unconsciously, ' he went on. 'You did not know it. Thepleasure of the play kept you from knowing what it implied. '

'_Allowed_, did you say?'

'Look back and think, ' said he, calmly. 

'As if they could, without my knowing it!' she exclaimed. 'Asif they would!'--

'Look back and think, ' he said. 

'Well, ' said Wych Hazel, 'look back and think! And I find themost extreme deference, and--nothing else that touches thequestion. '

He drew a sort of short, impatient sigh, and waited a moment. Then leaned over towards her again and spoke slowly. 

'Six weeks ago, ' he said, 'two little hands would not comenear enough to my shoulder to take the kitten from it. And Iloved them for the distance they kept. '

The girl drew suddenly back, freeing her hand now with aswiftness that told of a deep hurt somewhere. For a moment shedid not speak--then only a breathless--

'Well?'

'Is that displeasure?' he said. 

'When have I shortened the distance?' But the words weredefiant with pain, not anger. And Rollo on his part remainedperfectly still and perfectly silent, not even seeming to knowhow the old horse was going to please himself. 

Nothing could have been more still, outwardly, than the white-robed figure in the corner, --and nothing need be more inwardlytumultuous. 

'If it was an open wagon, ' she thought to herself, 'I shouldjump out--over the back or somewhere!' O this having men talkto one! And what was he talking about? and what had she done?--she who had done nothing! Except--'dance better than everanybody danced before!' 'For the distance they kept'--and whendid not her hands keep their distance from every one! How manytimes that very evening had she been voted 'cruel, ' forrefusing some favour which other girls granted freely? Mr. Rollo, too!--who had praised her 'womanliness'--But with thatthe womanish element prevailed, and there came a quiver oflip, and for an instant her hands were folded across her eyes. Then down again, to hold each other in order. 

And yet her hand had been on twenty shoulders that evening, and twenty arms had encircled her!

There was an interval of some length. 

'Miss Hazel, ' said Rollo at length, and his voice was clearand manly, 'have I offended you?'

'No, '--under her breath. 'I--suppose not. '

'Do you want me to give, if I can, some justification ofmyself?'

'There is none. Except that you did not mean to say what yousaid. '

'I meant no justification of my words, ' said he, gently butsteadily. 'If you want _that_, it is, that they were spoken tosave you from harm. '

'Ah!' she said with a half cry, --then checked herself. 'Whatelse does Mr. Rollo wish to justify?'

'Only my right to speak them;--if you did, as you might, --question it. ' He paused a little, and went on. 'I can give youonly half of my plea, but half will do. It is, that yourfather and mother dearly loved mine. '

It was all Hazel could do to bear her mother's name just then. Her hands took a sudden grip of each other, but no answercame. Not for some time: then words low and softly spoken--

'I think I asked for no plea, Mr. Rollo. '

'Then if you are content with it, ' said he, in a lighter tone, 'give me your hand once more, only for a moment this time. '

She hesitated--then held it out. He bent down and gave it aswift, earnest kiss; after which he turned his attention tohis driving duties, for some time neglected, till Mr. Falkirk's cottage was gained. As he took Wych Hazel out of thecarriage, he said, 'It's so late, if you don't forbid me, I am going up to my oldfriend, Mrs. Bywank, to ask her to give me lodging to-night. '

Hazel bowed her head in token that he might do as he pleased, giving no other reply. But it is safe to say that, by thistime, ideas and thoughts and feelings and pain, and--'otherthings, ' as she would have phrased it, were so inextricablymixed up in the girl's head, that she hardly knew which waswhich and which was not. She walked steadily in, --then gaveabout two springs to her brown corner room, and locked thedoor. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE GERMAN AT OAK HILL. 

Mr. Falkirk was not disturbed that night with being toldanything. But when the sun had risen fair and clear over thegreen world of Chickaree, and Gotham moved silently about thebreakfast-table, Mr. Falkirk might notice from his sofa thatbut one cup and saucer stood on the tray, and but one platenear to bear it company. If Mr. Falkirk's nerves were not inorder, they might have been tried; for Gotham certainly seemedto have borrowed the cat's shoes for the occasion. 

'Why don't you set the table as usual?' came prettyperemptorily from the sofa. 

'Miss 'Azel 'ave sent word she was h'asleep, sir, ' saidGotham, with extra dignity. 

'Then why don't you wait till she is awake, slowhead? asusual. It is not eight o'clock yet. '

'H'also that she 'as no h'intentions of h'ever waking h'up, sir. '

So Mr. Falkirk took his breakfast with a dissatisfied mind. For it is safe to say, he was so accustomed by this time tohis gay little ward's company and ministrations, that coffeewas not coffee without her. Gotham did his duty in a more thanusually taciturn fashion, and Mr. Falkirk's breakfast was atan end before the factotum unburdened his mind. 

'Beg pardon, sir, ' he said, drawing himself up behind hismaster; 'but 'ow are your h'orders concerning Miss 'Azel to beh'understood, sir?'

'Orders?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'You distinctly said and h'indicated, sir, that I was to driveMis 'Azel to and from, sir, --if my mind serves me, ' saidGotham. 

'And if my mind serves me, you have driven her forty times. '

'Quite correct, sir, --and more, ' said Gotham. 'The point h'is, Mr. Falkirk, what's to be done when young gents come takingthe h'orders h'out of my very 'ands, sir?'

'Knock 'em down. '

'The first natural h'impulse, sir. But put a case that they'rein the knockin' down style too?--then I'm left in the road, andMiss 'Azel without a protector. '

'Who's been knocking you down now, Gotham?'

'No one, sir;--I 'ope I know my business better, ' said Gotham. 'I speak of the h'inevitable. And Mr. Rollo would drive Miss'Azel 'ome last night, and she gave me no better h'assistancethan one of her laughs, sir. ' Clearly it rang in his ears yet. 

'You had better not meddle with what don't belong to you, myfriend. If Miss Hazel had desired _your_ assistance, it wouldhave been time enough to give it to her. '

'Very good, sir, --h'all settled, sir, '--and Gotham carried offthe tray with a face of mixed perplexity and wisdom that wasfunny to see. But the sunshine crept on through the littlestudy, and it was well-nigh time to set the table again, before the door opened softly and Wych hazel came in: twoexquisite roses in her cheeks, in her hand--by way of excuse--abasket of wonderful hot-house grapes. How glad she had been totake them from Dingee at the door. 

'Well, my dear!' said Mr. Falkirk, with an accent ofunmistakeable pleasure, and something behind it, 'you haveslept long to-day. Were you home so late?'

'I suppose it was late, sir. I lost no time, and so took nonote. How do you do to-day, Mr. Falkirk?'

'Able to move, I think. I shall get about in a day or twomore. '

'Here are some grapes, sir, to hasten the cure. ' She put thebasket in his hand, and passed on to a low seat at the head ofthe sofa. Mr. Falkirk looked at them, and his tone changed tothe accustomed growl. 

'Where are these from?'

'Major Seaton, I believe, is responsible, ' said the girlcarelessly. 

'How many several people are after you at this present, MissHazel?'

'Difficult to say, sir, without more extensive inquiries thanI have made. Your words do not put an attractive face upon thematter. '

'Is there any such thing in the lot?' asked Mr. Falkirk, discontentedly. 

'As an attractive face? O yes, sir, several. Quite a number, Ishould say, ' replied Miss Hazel, with a critical air. 

'And all of them at Moscheloo?'

'All what, sir? Your English is hardly so pointed as usual--ifyou will excuse me for saying it. '

'You were speaking of attractive faces, my dear. I should saythat your syntax wanted attention. '

'I did not know but you referred to "the lot, " ' said WychHazel. 'There was the usual mingling, I think, of attractiveand unattractive. '

Mr. Falkirk was silent till dinner was served, and thenattended to that. 

'Mr. Falkirk, ' Hazel began suddenly, when Gotham had retired, '_I_ believe you could move now. Come!--go with me to Oak Hillto-night, --will you, sir?'

'Oak Hill, ' said her guardian. 'Mrs. Seaton's. What is to bedone there?'

'A promenade concert--nominally. '

'That sounds something to me like a dancing dinner. What doesit mean, my dear?'

'Just what I said, in the first place, sir. If Kitty Fisherand the Powders are there, it may turn into something else. '

'And what does a promenade concert turn into, when it isenchanted?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'A succession of dances--it might. '

'Well, my dear--what should I do in a succession of dances?'

She laughed, --just a little. Laughs were not ready to-night. 'Sit still, sir, and watch me. '

'It strikes me I do enough of that as it is, without going toOak Hill. Do you want more than you will have to watch you?'

The word jarred. She was silent a minute. Then earnestly--

'I wish you would, Mr. Falkirk. '

A new expression on Mr. Falkirk's face shewed that a new ideahad occurred to him. 

'What does this mean?' he asked gently, bending on his wardone of his keen looks from under the thick eyebrows. 

She answered without looking at him, 'It means what is says, sir. '

'What is the matter, my dear?' came more sympathizingly thanMr. Falkirk's wont. It was even a little low and tender. 

'Why, Mr. Falkirk--it is such an unreasonable request, that youshould be so keen after reasons?'

'I do not know that it is unreasonable, but you know that itis unwonted. You have not been apt to wish for more guardingthan you have had, Miss Hazel. Cannot you tell me what makesyou desire it now?'

Mr. Falkirk did not growl now, nor draw his brows together; hewas in patient earnest, seeing cause. 

'I did not say to guard me, sir. Sometimes, ' said Hazel, choosing her words, 'sometimes it might be pleasant to havesomebody in the room to whom I was supposed to belong--just alittle bit. How do you like Major Seaton's grapes, Mr. Falkirk?'

Mr. Falkirk drew his brows together now, and spite of his weakankle got up and paced across the floor thoughtfully. Thencame to a sudden stop in front of Wych Hazel. 

'Has anybody annoyed you?' he asked. 

'By "annoyed" you mean?--'

'Made you feel the want of a protector; or of somebody, as yousay, that you belong to. ' Mr. Falkirk's brows were drawingvery thick together indeed. 

'No, I think not, ' she answered. 'Not intentionally. Peopleare very good to me; very respectful, I believe. But I must goand see that my dress is in order. I shall wear blue to-night, Mr. Falkirk--and you like blue. ' She made him a profound littlecourtesy, and danced off out of the room. 

Mr. Falkirk's cogitations, to judge by his eyebrows, were alsoprofound, when his ward had left him alone. They did not issuein any resolve to re-enter the gay world, however, which hadnever been Mr. Falkirk's sphere; and Miss Kennedy went to OakHill alone. Had she been made to 'feel her want of aprotector?'--On the contrary!--Or 'annoyed' in any other sense?--that was far too soft a word. And so she stepped from hercarriage in company with many thoughts, and came out upon theassembled light and colour as stately as if she had been theonly right line in the universe. A bevy of her friends wereround her directly. 

'Hazel, ' said Phinny Powder, 'we are going to run this concerninto a German as soon as it has run long enough in its ownname. I am so glad you are here; and in blue. Keep near me, won't you, because it'll just set me off, and some dresseskill me. '

'How can she keep near you, you giddy creature?' said Mme. Lasalle. 'Hazel' (whispering), 'Stuart bade me engage you tolead the German with him. May I tell him you will?'

'O Hazel, ' cried Josephine again, 'we are going to have suchfun. Kitty is going to let us into some new figures, and theyare considerably jolly, I tell you!'

'Are they?' said Hazel. 'But the music comes first, Mme. Lasalle, and I may not stay for the German. And I havepromised the first walk to Mr. May. '

'Not stay for the German!'--'_Not_ stay for the German?' wasechoed in so many various tones of despair that it had to beanswered again. 

'I only said I might not, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Good evening, Mr. May. '--And Miss Kennedy swept off, to the opening burst ofmusic from the band. 

Now there are other sounds besides music at a promenadeconcert, and many things not strictly harmonious are said anddone under cover of its trombones and violins. Wych Hazelindeed walked unremittingly, --it suited her mood that night;but many sat and talked, very regardless of the music, and nottoo mindful of other ears. And so after a while a groupgathered round Kitty Fisher, to discuss the coming German andpick up a few hints touching the promised new figures. WychHazel had just passed, escorted on either hand: her dark-bluerobe and white laces setting her off to perfection. For aminute eyes alone were busy. 

'That girl provokes me to death with her high dresses!' saidKitty Fisher. 'Such ridiculous nonsense!'

'I'm not so sure as to that, ' said Miss May. 'Dick raves aboutit. '

'Dick raves about her altogether, ' said Kitty, --'so of coursehe has to include her dress. '

'Well, George said that other shoulders might as well retireif her's ever came fairly out, ' said little Molly Seaton, whowas taking her first sips of society, and looked up to MissKennedy as the eighth and ninth wonder of the world combined. 

'I don't care, ' said Kitty Fisher, 'I'll have 'em out! I vow Iwill. It's a fraud on society. '

'Society can afford to be a loser now and then, ' said Mr. Kingsland, softly insinuating himself among the ladies;--'itgets so much more than its due between whiles!'

'It's prudish, ' said Phinny, disregarding this sentiment, --'that's what it is. Do you suppose it's that old wretch of aguardian keeps her in leading strings? Now she talks of notstaying to the German. '

'The Sorceress is in one of her moods to-night, ' said Mr. Kingsland. 'Murky. Flashes coming so thick and fast, that Ideclare I've been winking all the evening. '

'Stephen, ' said Miss Kitty, 'if you'll help get up the"Handkerchief" by and by, and get her into the thick of itbefore she knows where she's going, I'll give you the firstpair of blue gloves I can spare. '

'Great offer, ' said Mr. Kingsland; 'but to-night the Sorceressprefers walking. '

'Stuff!--who cares what she prefers?'

'Some nine-tenths--and a fraction--of all the men here, --myselfincluded, ' said Mr. Kingsland. 

'You are the fraction, or you'd manage it, ' retorted Kitty. 'It's doubtful if she _would_ dance with _you_. '

'She will not dance with anybody this night, ' said Mr. Kingsland. 

'How do you know?'

'Said so. And what Miss Kennedy has said, she does. '

'Why, she _couldn't_ dance in that long train, ' said MollySeaton. 

'Little goose!' said Kitty Fisher, 'she would hang _that_ overher partner's arm. '

'Would she!' said Mr. Kingsland, with a slight whistle. 'Iasked her to do it once: I think I shall not again. '

'She'd rather talk to six men than dance with one, I suppose, 'said Miss Fisher, eyeing the girl who stood now leaningagainst a tree in the distance. 

'And the post of the seventh looks so inviting!' said Mr. Kingsland, rising and strolling off. 

'Isn't it too much!' said Kitty Fisher. 'See here, girls andboys, listen, '--and heads and voices too went down belowrecognition. 

A little later in the evening, Gotham from his seclusion inthe servants' quarters was summoned to speak to a lady. Hefound awaiting him, not his mistress, but a wonderful pyramidof white tarletan from which issued a voice. 

'Miss Hazel is going to spend the night with Mrs. Seaton, andshe sends you word that you may go home and come back for herat eight o'clock in the morning. '

'Ain't that clever?' said Phinny to the cavalier on whose armshe leaned, as they retraced their way towards the lightedportion of the grounds. 'Now I have disposed of one trouble. '

All unconscious of this machination Wych Hazel kept on herwalk--the only thing she could decide to do to-night. In factthe girl hardly knew her own mood. Of course the stricturesthat had been made were all unfounded, as touching her; butthe words had given such pain at the time, that the very ideaof dancing made her wince as if she heard them again. Thatwould wear off, of course, but for the present she would walk;and had, as Molly guessed, put on her long train as a token. But when the concert began to tend towards the German, anotherfancy seized her: to stay and look on, and get that outsideview which was almost unknown. And so when the first set wasforming she released Major Seaton for his partner, and againtook Mr. May's arm and walked towards the dancers. 

'My dear, ' said Mme. Lasalle, coming up on the other side, 'are you not dancing?'

'As you see, Madame!' said Hazel, with a slight bend andlaugh. 

'_You_ not dancing! What's the matter?'

'Well--you will find it is a freak, or I tired myself lastnight, or I want to make a sensation--according to whom youask, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'You are not forbidden?' whispered the lady, in a lower tone. 

'No, Madame. '

'You seem to have so many guardians, ' the lady went on, --'andguardians are selfish, my dear; horribly selfish. For that, Ithink all men are, whether guardians or not. '

'Just now, ' said Wych Hazel, 'I am the selfish one, --keepingMr. May from dancing. ' Which supposed view of the case Mr. May, like a wise man, did not try to answer--just then. 

The German began. One or two ordinary figures first, butwatched by Wych Hazel with eager eyes. 

'Yes, of course!' she said to herself, as Kitty Fisher wentround with her head on her partner's shoulder, --'if he thoughtI did that. ' _Could_ he think it?--the little white glove tips sonearly withdrew themselves from the black coat-sleeve theywere touching, that Mr. May turned to ask if she was tired andwished to sit down. 

But motions that were pretty to look at followed: each couplein turn passing through an avenue of little coloured flags, which held out by the motionless couples on either side, metand crossed over the heads of the dancers. Down came StuartNightingale and Miss Fisher, and Mr. Burr and Phinny Powder, and Major Seaton and Miss May, --Wych Hazel looked on, smiling, and with a stir of her little right foot. How often she hadcome down just so! Then began a figure that she did not know:they were going to 'practise, ' Kitty Fisher called out, recommending her to come. 

'You won't know how next time. '

'Thank you, I can learn by looking on. '

And so she stood still and watched. Watched to see the ladies, armed with long reins and a whip, driving their partnerscheerfully from point to point, with appropriate gestures andsounds and frolic. The little bells tinkled gleefully, themany-coloured leading-strings mingled in a kaleidoscopepattern. 

'Symbolical, ' Mr. Kingsland remarked, standing near. 'This isthe "Bridle" figure, Miss Kennedy. '

'Unbridled' would be a better name, Miss Kennedy thought, butshe said not a word; only her lips curled disdainfully. But, 'driving men is easy work, ' as Phinney Powder said, and sothis 'practice' soon gave way to another still more striking. The ladies ranged themselves, standing well apart from eachother, and among the gentlemen was a general flutter of whitehandkerchiefs. What were they going to do? 'Bonds' was theword that occurred to Hazel this time, as she stood leaning alittle forward in interested expectation. And so it proved, --but not just as she had expected. To be tied by the hand wouldbe bad enough, but by the foot!--and yet, --yes, certainly MajorSeaton's handkerchief was round Kitty Fisher's pretty ankle--tothe discomfiture of several other handkerchiefs of likeintentions, --and Miss Powder had Stuart Nightingale at herfeet, --and Phinny--

But who did it for whom, Wych Hazel scarcely thought untilafterwards. She looked on for a minute at the scuffling, laughing, romping; then drew back with a deep flush. 

'Did they think they could do that with _me!_' she said, underher breath. And what could her companion do but feel ashamedof every man he had ever seen do 'that' for any woman?

The course of things was changed after a time by Mr. Nightingale's coming up and asking her to walk. He had madeover the 'practice' to somebody else, professing that he knewthe figures already. Perhaps somewhat in his companion'smanner struck him, for he remarked, quite philosophically, asthey moved into the shadow of the shrubbery, that 'society isa problem!'

'Is it?' said Hazel, to whom problems (out of books) were asyet in a happy distance. 'What needs solution, Mr. Nightingale?'

'Is it possible you do not see?'

'Not a bit. I did not know society was deep enough to becalled a problem. '

' "Glissez, mortels; n'appuyez pas. " '

'Well, people do not, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'And had best not. Nothing is more graceful than the state ofbold and brave innocence. '

Hazel mused a little at that, half unconsciously getting up aproblem of her own. Was he talking of _her_ 'innocence?' did he, too, see things which she did not? And was this anotherwarning? Yet no one more forward to draw her into round dancesthan Stuart Nightingale. He began again in another tone. 

'You are determined not to dance to-night?'

'Yes. Am I part of the problem?'

He laughed a little. 'You would not be a true woman if youwere not. '

'You may as well give up trying to understand _me_, ' said WychHazel, gaily. 'Mr. Falkirk and I have been at it for years, and the puzzle is a puzzle yet. '

'Confess, you like to be a puzzle. '

'One may as well make the best of one's natural advantages, 'said Hazel with a laugh. 'I suppose if I were what people call"limpid, " and "transparent, " I might like that too. ' But theclear girlish purity of the depths referred to was astransparent as the Summer blue. 

'Have you ever been told, ' said Stuart, lowering his voice alittle, 'of your very remarkable resemblance to one of thegreatest puzzles of history?'

'No, ' said Hazel. 'And you do not know me well enough to tellwhat I resemble. '

'Pardon me--pardon me! Do you think I could not have told, after that one first meeting in the wood?'

'If you could, ' said Wych Hazel, with a lift of her eyebrows, 'I cannot imagine how society can be a problem to you, Mr. Nightingale. '

'There never was but one woman, of those whose pictures havecome down to us, whose mouth could be at once so mischievousand so sweet. You are aware the mouth is the index to thecharacter?'

Hazel answered with some reserve (direct compliments alwaysgave her a check)

'No--Yes. I have heard people say so. '

'And you know the woman I mean?'

'She is bound to be a witch!--but further than that--'

'The likeness is really remarkable, ' said Stuart, seriously;'you have the Mary Stuart brow exactly, and the mouth, as Isaid; and I think, as far as difference of colour admitssimilarity of effect, the eyes have the same trick of power. Isuppose you like power?'

'I suppose I should! Mr. Falkirk ties up all my power, andlabels it "Edge tools, " ' said Wych Hazel. 

'I suppose it cuts its way out, and so justifies him. Don'tyou have your own way generally?'

'Well, between taking it, and coaxing it out, and refusing totake any other, I do have it sometimes, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'Is Mr. Falkirk much of an ogre? I do not know him. Difficultto manage?'

'He thinks I am, ' said Wych Hazel. 'No, he is not an ogre atall, except officially. '

'Does he pretend to exercise much supervision over yourdoings?'

'Pretend?' she repeated. 'He has the right, Mr. Nightingale. And did ever a man have a right and not give it an airing nowand then?'

Stuart laughed, and laughed again. 'Don't be hard on us!' hepleaded. 

'Truth is not slander. '

'But are not women as fond of power, and wont to exercise itas ruthlessly, as ever men are?'

'It is not a strong power, if they do. '

'Take care, ' said Stuart. 'Honour bright!--while Mr. Falkirkthinks things go according to his will, don't they really goby yours?'

'No, ' said Wych Hazel, 'when he _thinks_ they do, they _do_, --whenthey do not, he knows it. '

'Then you are _not_ free. That is hard!--hard upon you. Amother's authority is one thing; a guardian's, I should think, is something very different. Does he interfere with yourdancing?'

'No. '--Hazel herself hardly knew why words suddenly becamescarce. 

'I thought you were very fond of it. '

'O, I am!'

'Then why will you not honour me and please yourself to-night?'

' "Why" is safe, while "why" keeps hid. All women know that, 'said Wych Hazel. 

'You best of all, ' said Stuart. 'I dare say it is just to makeus miserable. But now I am coming to you with a more seriousrequest. Will you help us in some private theatricals?'

'I?--O, I could not. I know nothing about the matter. Neverwent to a theatre in my life, to begin with. '

'So much the better. I know you will do it to perfection. Inthe first place you are not vain; and in the second place youare independent; and an actor should be free in both respects. And of positive qualifications you are full. Say you willtry!'

'I am the worst person to make believe that ever you saw, 'said Wych Hazel. 'I doubt if I could counterfeit anybody elsefor ten minutes. '

'Precisely!' said Stuart in a contented tone. 'You would notcounterfeit. Good acting is not counterfeiting--it is nature. You will help us? Say you will!'

'O, if I can--certainly. '

Before Wych Hazel's lips had fairly got the words out, the twofound themselves suddenly flush with Mr. Rollo, standing bythe side of the way under a laburnum tree, which was hung withlights instead of its natural gold pendants. 

Swiftly as only thoughts can, they rushed through the girl'smind on the instant. Then he was here! And of course he knewshe was not dancing, --and _of course_ he must think--There wasanother figure beginning--she might go and join that. No!--notwith him to look on, making mental comments: that would besimply unendurable. Then she must tell him it was not for whathe had said. And she could not tell him that, because it was!--Only in a different way. And how was she to talk to him of'ways, ' or of anything else, after last night? The result ofall which lucubrations was, that she bent her head gravely--andit may be said somewhat lower than usual--in silentacknowledgment of Mr. Rollo's presence. She was desperatelyafraid of him to-night. But though he stepped up and spoke toher, it was in the indifferent tone of ordinary business. 

'On my way here I got something that I think I ought to giveto you. By and by, when you are at leisure, will you commandmy presence?'

'I can take it now. '

'No, ' said he carelessly, 'I will not interrupt you. I shouldhave to explain. I will be on the lawn in front of theconcert-saloon when you want me. '

He bowed and fell back from them. 

'Have you _two_ guardians?' said Stuart slyly. 

'No. '

'Just a little more assurance than necessary, in hiscommunication. '

'What do you consider the proper amount?' said Wych Hazel, retreating to carelessness in her turn. 

'I should not dare offer any, ' said Stuart. 'It is withnothing of the kind that I venture to ask if you will ridewith me to-morrow. '

'Ah, I would if I could!' said the girl longingly. 'I wouldgive almost anything to be on horseback again. But my horseshave not come, and till then I must wait. '

'Let me offer one of my aunt's horses!' said Stuart eagerly. But Hazel shook her head. 

'I cannot take it--Mr. Falkirk will let me mount none but myown. '

'Is it reasonable to yield obedience so far, and with solittle ground?'

'It is comfortable, ' said Hazel with a laugh. 'O yes, Isuppose it is reasonable, too. '

The walk went on and the talk; each in its way wandering alongthrough moonlight and among flowers, and then Hazel bethoughther that what she had to do must be done before she went home. So mustering up her courage, she seated herself on one of thebroad stone steps at the side door, and despatched her escortto the front for Mr. Rollo. Presently he came, and sat downbeside her. 

'At what hour did you order your carriage?' he asked in a lowtone. 

'Gotham was to wait. '

'He has gone home. I met him as I came. '

'Gone home? O he is only driving around to keep his horseawake. It is not a fiery turnout, by any means. '

'He has gone home, ' Rollo repeated smiling, 'and I did notknow enough to order him about again. But I sent word to Mr. Falkirk that I would take care of you. '

The girl's brows lifted, then drew slightly together. 

'Thank you--, ' she said, with rather stately hesitation, --'butas Mr. Falkirk will send Gotham straight back, I had betterwait. '

'After my message, Mr. Falkirk will not do that, ' said Rollo, looking at his watch. 'It is half-past twelve o'clock. '

Hazel leaned her chin in her hand and looked off into themoonshine. She did not feel like being 'taken care of, ' a bit, to-night. 

'I am afraid circumstances are affecting Mr. Falkirk's mind, 'she said at last, with a tone just a trifle provoked; forhalf-past twelve was a stubborn fact to deal with. 'Well, Mr. Rollo--if I can by no means save you the trouble, at what hourwill it please you to take it?'

'As there are evidently plots against you, suppose you come tothe other side-door, and let us go off without speaking toanybody?'

And so it came to pass that in a few minutes more they werecomfortably driving homewards, without supervision, the silentgroom behind them not counting one. 

They were in a light phaeton, with a new horse in it whichcould go; the old moon was just rising over the trees; theroad free, the pace good. The gentleman's tone when he spokewas rather indicative of enjoyment. 

'Who is plotting against you?'

'Plotting!--'

'And now disappointed?'

'O, it is just some of Gotham's stupidity, ' said Wych Hazel, with a voice not yet at rest: she had been oddly conscious ofwishing that no one should hear her whispered good-night toMrs. Seaton and follow to see with whom she went home. 'He andI are always at cross purposes. '

'A lady in a white dress brought him the message, he says. Butto change the subject--What is your favourite pleasure?'

'Riding the wind. '

'Do you remember once--a great while ago--promising to give mean afternoon some time?'

'Did I? it must have been a great while, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Oyes, I do remember. Well?'

'Will you put to-morrow afternoon at my disposal?'

'If the thing to be done is within walking distance. Mr. Falkirk will not let me ride. '

'I have brought home, I think, a nice little saddle horse, which I should like to have you try, ' Rollo went on, notheeding this. 

'Oh!' she said, with unmistakeable longing. 'But he has mademe refuse at least five-and-forty just such horses thissummer. '

'He will be amenable to reason to-morrow, ' said Rollocomfortably. 'Shall I tell you what I want to do with youafter I have got you on horseback?'

'Let me run--I hope, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'I am going to take you where you have never been yet; throughMorton Hollow and the mills, to see my old nurse, who lives alittle way beyond them. '

'I am not going through Morton Hollow, ' said Hazel, decidedly. 

'Why not?'

'You never heard of seven _women_ who could "render a reason, "did you?' said the girl, with a laugh in her voice. 

'My old nurse is a character, ' Rollo went on. 'She is a Norsewoman. My mother, I must tell you, was also a Norse woman. Myfather's business at one time kept him much in Denmark and atSt. Petersburg; and at Copenhagen he met my mother, who hadbeen sent there to school. And when my mother forsook hercountry, the old nurse, not old then, left all to go with her. She was my nurse in my earliest years, and remained our mostfaithful friend while we were a family. She made afterwards anot very happy marriage; and when her husband died just beforeI went to Europe, she was left alone and poor. I arranged asmall house for her in the neighbourhood of the Hollow; andthere she lives--a kind of mysterious oracle to the peopleabout. And her greatest earthly pleasure, I suppose, is tohave me come and see her. Gyda Bo�rresen is her name. '

'I like to see people enjoy their greatest earthly happiness, 'said Hazel thoughtfully. 'I never did many times. Or at leastnot many people. '

'I want you to know Gyda. I am not superstitious, like some ofthe ignorant people who visit her; but yet'--he paused. 'Ifever you were in need of womanly counsel--if ever you wantedsympathizing and wise help--to find your way out ofperplexities--I should say, go to Gyda. If any one could givethat sort of help, she would. And it is almost like going to apythoness', added Rollo thoughtfully; 'she is so cut off fromthe world and its people. '

They were almost at Mr. Falkirk's cottage. Rollo was silent amoment, then said, 'May I ask Mrs. Bywank to shew mehospitality again to-night? I don't want to go home. '

'Mrs. Bywank will be only too glad, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Thelittle tower room always goes by your name, Mr. Rollo. '

'She did not put me there the last time, ' said he, laughing, 'I was lodged in state and splendour! Well, good night. I wishyou were coming to breakfast. '

She stood silent a minute, looking down. Could she? Might she?Would it do? Run away from Mr. Falkirk for a private frolic onthe hill? It was a great temptation!

And only doing the honours of her own house, when all wassaid. Would it be strange? Would he think it strange? That is, not Mr. Falkirk, but Mr. Rollo. Was he a man of sense, shewondered, who always disapproved of everything? And with thata child's look of search and exploration sought his face. There was a grave sparkle in the eyes she met looking down ather. 

'I see a question in your face, ' said he. 'And I answer, --yes!'

'Very unsafe to answer anything in my face, ' said the girl, hastily withdrawing her eyes. 'There were _two_ questions in mymind. Good night, Mr. Rollo, and thank you. '

'Think better of it!'--said Rollo, as he got into the carriageagain. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

BREAKFAST FOR THREE. 

Mrs. Bywank, inspecting her breakfast table from time to time, certainly had Mr. Rollo's wish in her heart, even though itgot no further. And setting on orange marmalade for him, shepleased herself with also setting on honey for _her;_ eventhough the portrait of a little child was all the sign of heryoung lady the room could boast. But long habit had made itsecond nature to watch that face, no matter what else she wasabout. Mrs. Bywank looked and smiled and sighed, and bent downto see if the honey was perfect. It was late in the morningnow: Mr. Rollo's slumbers had been allowed to extendthemselves somewhat indefinitely in the direction which mostmen approve; and still breakfast waited, down stairs; and Mrs. Bywank at the tower window gazed down the slope and over thetrees towards Wych Hazel's present abiding place. Notexpecting to see her, but watching over her in her heart. Sostanding, she was hailed by a cheery 'good morning' behindher. 

'I suppose people who turn day into night have no right toexpect the day will keep its promises to them; but you arebetter than my deserts, Mrs. Bywank. I see a breakfast table!'

'Always ready for you, Mr. Rollo! And you must be very readytoo, by this time, ' she said, sounding her whistle down thestairs. 'Was Miss Wych at Oak Hill last night, sir?'

'I had the pleasure of bringing her home. '

'O, did you, sir?' said Mrs. Bywank, with a quick look. 'Shetold me she meant to go, --but her mind comes about wonderfullysudden sometimes. Here is breakfast, Mr. Rollo. Will you takeyour old seat?'

'I think it will always come about in the right place atlast, ' said Rollo, as he complied with the invitation. The oldhousekeeper drew a sigh, looking up at the little picture. 

'My pretty one!' she said. Then applied herself to filling Mr. Rollo's cup. 'Yes, sir, you're right, ' she went on after apause. 'And she never would stop in a wrong one, not a minute, but for just a few things. '

'Mrs. Bywank, ' said the young man, 'those few things are allaround her. '

'You'd think so if you could hear the serenades I hear, ' saidthe housekeeper, 'and see the flowers--and hear thecompliments. She tells them to me sometimes, making fun. Butthe trouble is with Miss Wych, she never will see the worldwith any eyes but her own, --and who's to make her?'

A problem which Rollo considered in silence, and probablyswallowed instead of his coffee. 

'Does she speak freely to you of her impressions, and of whatshe is doing or going to do?'

'Free as a child, Mr. Rollo! Always tells me what dress she'llwear--and then afterwards how people liked it. And what shedoes, and what they want her to do. And why her head is notturned, ' said Mrs. Bywank, in conclusion, 'puzzles _my_ head, I'm sure. Mere handling so many hearts might do it. '

Mr. Rollo pursued his breakfast rather thoughtfully andnonchalantly for a time. 

'Mrs. Bywank, Mrs. Coles is returned. '

'Surely!' said Mrs. Bywank, with a slight start. 'Then she'llmake mischief, --or it'll be the first chance she ever missed. '

'And--the world around her is not so simple as your young ladybelieves. '

'No, no!' said Mrs. Bywank, earnestly. 'Well I know that! Butjust there comes in another trouble I spoke of, --you can't makeher believe it, sir, --and so I'm not sure it's always wise totry. ' She paused, in a sort of hesitating way; glancing fromher teaspoon to her guest. 

'It's not wise to try at all, ' said he, smiling--a sort of warmgenial smile, which went over the table to his old friend. 'Atthe same time, '--and his face grew sternly grave, --'it may bedesirable to have some other wisdom come in to her help. Iwish, --if you are in any doubt or perplexity about anything youhear, and it may be only a little thing that may give you theimpression, --I wish you would call me in. '

'Well sir, --that just touches my thought, ' said Mrs. Bywank. 'Or my thought that. For I couldn't do it, Mr. Rollo, unless, '--and an unmistakeable look of anxious inquiry cameacross the table. 'Unless, you know, sir, ' she went on, looking away again, --'unless--excuse my freedom--the conditionsof the will are to be carried out. ' And the old housekeepercalled for hot waffles, and otherwise apologized for touchingthe subject, by quitting it at once. As soon as all thisbustle was disposed of, her guest met her eye again with afrank, bright smile. 

'The conditions of the will are to be carried out, my friend. '

Mrs. Bywank brought her hands together with a sense of reliefand gladness that somehow went to her eyes too, and she wassilent a little. 

'I did hope it, sir!--And I would far rather apply to you thanto Mr. Falkirk. _He_ frets me sometimes, ' added the oldhousekeeper: 'I may say that to you, sir. Now, she's been wildto ride all summer, --and a dozen wild to have her; and Mr. Falkirk has never let her go once. And so long as he _does_ lether go and dance with the same people, I don't for my part seewhy. '

'Perhaps he does, ' said Rollo, rather dryly. 'But I have madethe requisite declarations in presence of Mr. Falkirk and Dr. Maryland, and am legally qualified to act, Mrs. Bywank. _She_does not know anything of this; and it is not best she should--for the present. '

'No sir--by no means, ' said Mrs. Bywank, earnestly. 'For ifthere is anything miss Wych does hate, it is to have agentleman speak to her about her doings. When that happens shethinks she's supposed to have done something dreadful; and ithurts her more than you would guess, sir. Little child as shewas then, she would cry her eyes out over a word from Mr. Kennedy, but her mother might say anything. And it has alwaysbeen just so with Mr. Falkirk. Only Miss Wych never cries for_him_. At least nobody ever sees her. '

Now, instead of Mr. Rollo's being alarmed at this, as anotherman might, it was answered by a certain humourous play offace; a slight significance of lip and air, quite difficult tocharacterize. It was not arrogant, nor arbitrary; I do notknow how to call it masterful; and yet certainly it expressedno dismay and no apprehension. Perhaps it expressed that heintended to be in a different category from other men. Perhapshe thought Mrs. Bywank meant to read him a cautionary lesson. 

'She is in rather a hard position, ' he said, gravely. 'I amglad she has got a good friend in you, Mrs. Bywank. And I amglad _I_ have, too. '

'Yes, it is hard, ' said the old housekeeper, with a glance athim; 'though it is not to be expected, sir, that you shouldquite understand it. But Miss Wych is the lovingest littlecreature that ever lived, I believe, and as true as the sky. Why, she could cheat Mr. Falkirk day in and day out if shechose!--but if ever those young men _should_ get her to ride, against his orders, she would go and tell him of it, the firstminute after she got home. '

Rollo did not ask whether they could do this, or had done it. He went on quietly with his breakfast, only glancing up atMrs. Bywank to let her see that he was attending to her. 

'So that's a great safeguard, ' she began again, with a sigh. 'But I wish Mrs. Coles was back in Chicago! Miss Fisher wasbad enough. And what the two will do between them--'

'What does Miss Fisher do?'

'It is plain to me, ' said Mrs. Bywank, 'that she wants to pullmy young lady down to her way of dress and behaviour; thoughMiss Wych don't guess it a bit. _That_ she can never do, ofcourse. But it is just like Miss Fisher to push where shecan't pull. Do you understand me, sir?'

'Quite. '

'So that makes me anxious, sir. And there are hands enough tohelp. '

Leaning somewhat towards her young guest, breakfast ratherforgotten on both sides, so they sat; when the door openedsoftly and Wych Hazel came in. But if the first minute insidethe door could have been instantly exchanged for the last oneoutside, it is probable that the young lady of Chickaree wouldhave disturbed no cabinet council over her that day. For withthe first sight of the very people she expected to find, thererushed over her a horrible fear that Mr. Rollo would think shehad come to see _him!_--and that Mrs. Bywank would think so--and(worst of all) that she thought so herself! But there was noretreating now. So passing swiftly to the old housekeeper'schair, and laying both hands on her shoulders to keep her init, Hazel stooped down to kiss her; and then straighteningherself up like a young arrow, she gave from behind Mrs. Bywank a demure good-morning to Mr. Rollo. 

That gentleman had not been so much engrossed with theconversation as to have at all the air of being 'surprised, 'or he was too good a man of the world to shew it. He hadsprung up instantly as Wych Hazel came in, and now he cameround to where she stood to shake hands, looking very bright, but as if her appearance was the simplest thing in the world. 

'You have not had breakfast?' he said. 

'I have had the opportunity. But you look altogether toocomfortable here, you and Mrs. Bywank!--As for me, I have beenbreakfasting with two bears, and had nearly forgotten howcivilization acts. '

'My dear!' said Mrs. Bywank. --'Not "breakfasting"--when you werecoming here, Miss Wych?'

'Not much, Byo, to say the truth. I gave Mr. Falkirk _his_coffee--hot and hot. '

'He didn't give you waffles, ' said Rollo, making room for herplate and cup upon the table. 'Mrs. Bywank, we must take careof her. I shall never grumble at sending answers toinvitations after this. '

He was rendering little services and making himself variouslyuseful, with the air of a person more at home than she was:drawing down a blind to keep the sun from her face, andopening another window to let in the air and the view. 

'Take care of me!' said Wych Hazel, with a look at the tableinstead of at him, and then beginning to touch and mend thingsgenerally to suit her fancy. 'It is very plain what _I_ have todo! There is the jar of marmalade quite pushed out of reach. And if you do not empty it, Mr. Rollo, Mrs. Bywank will thinkyou have not fulfilled the sweet promise of your earlieryears. '

'My dear!' remonstrated Mrs. Bywank, uneasily. 

'I have satisfied her, ' said Rollo, dryly. 'But there is alittle left for you. There wouldn't have been if the two bearshad known where it was. '

'Mr. Falkirk was fearfully growly this morning, ' said WychHazel. 'And every time he growled Gotham grumbled. So I had afusillade. Where is your fruit, Byo?'

'There was none brought in yesterday, Miss Wych, I'm sorry tosay. '

'None at all in the house?'

'There's a basket in your room, my dear; but of course'--

'Not "of course" at all, ' said the girl, jumping up to go forit. 'You know that is a sort of fruit I never eat. '

Which might have left it doubtful what sort she _did_ eat, --thebasket contained so many, in such splendid variety. Hazel satdown in her place and began to pile up the beauties in amajolica dish. 

'Aren't you going to give me some?' said Rollo, looking on. 

The answer tarried while Hazel's little fingers dived downafter peaches and plums of extra size with which to crown herdish; but so doing, they suddenly brought up a white note, suspiciously sealed with red wax. The girl dropped it, as ifit had been a wasp; and hastily setting the basket down on thefloor, pushed the unfinished dish to a position before Mr. Rollo. 

'There!' she said, 'will that do?'

'Do you mean that you give me all these?'

'Every bit. '

'Mrs. Bywank, might I make interest with you for a finger-glass?'

Which being supplied, the gentleman proceeded to a leisurelyablution of his fingers, and then looked at the dish of fruitbefore him with grave consideration. 

'Which is the best?' said he. 

'They all look about alike, to me, ' said Wych Hazel, raisingher eyebrows. 'I shall be happy to hear, when you have foundout. '

Exercising a great deal of deliberation, Rollo finally choseout a bunch of Frontignac grapes and two Moorpark apricots, and set them before Wych Hazel. 

'Will you accept these from me?' he said, coolly. 'They are myown property, and are offered to you. Taste and see if theyare as good as they ought to be. '

She looked up, and down, laughing. 

'That is the way you come round people! Will you take theresponsibility? Suppose I am asked, some day, whether they--were--what they ought to be?'

'You can puzzle him just as well after knowing the fact, asbefore, ' Rollo said, with perfect gravity. 

'Well, ' said Hazel, pulling a grape from the bunch. 'Perhapsmy misleading powers may be equal to that. This one is quitegood--and not at all sour, ' she added, with a flash of hereyes--which, however, went to Mrs. Bywank. 'What do you want, Dingee?'

Dingee advanced and laid a card on the table. 

'Say I am at breakfast. I cannot be expected to keep awake allnight and all day too. '

'Permit me to inquire, ' said Rollo, as he also attacked thegrapes, but not looking at them, 'whether you did your shareof growling this morning? I am sure no one had more cause. '

'No, ' said the girl, laughing. 'I feel that I have a greatreserve in store for somebody. Well, Dingee?'

A card with a written message this time. Hazel looked at it, drew her brows together, and, seizing a pencil, wrote avigorous 'No, ' across the lines. 

'For somebody, ' Rollo repeated. 'I am not sure that we gothold of the right delinquent. After all, peaches are the bestthing after waffles and coffee. Try that. ' And he placed afine one alongside of Wych Hazel's plate. 

'The thing is, ' said Hazel, 'that unless you can growl withauthority, nobody marks you. '

'General Merrick and Major Seaton, Missee Hazel, ma'am, ' saidher dark retainer, coming back. 

'I thought I told you I was at breakfast?' said Hazel, in atone of displeasure. 

'Yes'm--but the Major he bound to know 'bout sumfin MisseeHazel left onsartin last night. 'Spect he'd like a keep-sake, too, ' said Dingee, laying down another card. 'Mas' May put _his_away mighty safe. '

If ever his little mistress was near being furious, I think itwas then. Eyes and cheeks were in a flame. 

'I left nothing uncertain last night!' she said, turning uponhim. 'Major Seaton knows that, if he will take the trouble toremember. And Dingee, if you bring me another message--of anysort--before I whistle for you, I will put you out of servicefor a month. Now go!'

'Is that the way you punish unlucky servitors?' said Rollo, looking much amused. 

She had come back to her grapes, giving them the closestattention, feeling shy and nervous and disturbed to any point;but now fun got the upper hand. So first she bit her lips, andthen--the laugh must come! Clear and ringing and mirthsome, asif there was never a growl in all the world. 

'That is one way, ' she said. 

'Sounds peaceable, ' said Rollo demurely, though smiling; 'butI don't know! I am afraid it might prove very severe. What isthe appeal from one of your sentences?'

'There is none. I am a Mede and a Persian combined. Byo, whydon't you give Mr. Rollo some cream with his peaches, andpostpone me till another time?'

'She'll have to postpone me, too, ' said Rollo. 'I must go. Shall I come for you at four o'clock? It will be too hot, I amafraid, before; and we have a good way to go. '

CHAPTER XXIX. 

JEANNIE DEANS. 

It wanted some time of four o'clock yet, when Miss Kennedycame quietly into Mr. Falkirk's study and sat down by thewindow. 

'Are you at leisure, sir?' she said, intertwining her fingersin a careless sort of way among the vines that hung there. 

'My dear, I have been at leisure so long that I wish I couldsay I was busy. But I am not busy. What is it, Miss Hazel?'

'Only a few business questions, sir, ' she said, attending tothe vines. 'Will you let me ride with Major Seaton onThursday?'

'Would you like to go with him?'

'I always like to ride, sir. '

'You have not a horse yet, my dear; that is a difficulty. I donot know this Major Seaton's horses--nor himself. '

'Quite reliable, sir--according to him. Will you let me ridewith Mr. Rollo this afternoon?'

'I suppose there is no good reason to be assigned againstthat, ' said Mr. Falkirk, rather growingly, and after a pause. It sounded a little as if he would have liked it if the facthad been otherwise. 

'You consider Wednesday a more safe day than Thursday, sir?'

'I am not superstitious, Miss Hazel. The only thing I ever wasin fear of is enchantment!'

'Well sir, --you have doubtless studied the case enough to knowwhich is the more "enchanting" of the two, ' said Miss Hazel, daringly. 'Shall I give Mr. May a ride on Friday?'

'Will you have a horse on Friday?'

'My horse seems to be a slow one, by the time it takes him tocome, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Will he be here this afternoon, Mr. Falkirk?'

'I suppose Rollo will see to that, ' said Mr. Falkirk, beginning to turn about some papers that were on the table. 

'Yes, sir, ' said his ward, with her small fingers stillplaying among the vines; 'I suppose he will. It is rather Mr. Rollo's style. But that makes it slightly awkward for me, Mr. Falkirk. '

'In what respect, Miss Hazel?'

'Most of these other gentlemen think themselves qualified to"see to" so small a consignment as myself; and not beingposted as to your scale of enchantment and danger, may feel itthe reverse of a compliment to meet me riding with Mr. Rollo, on his horse. '

'Well, my dear, what do you wish me to do in the matter? Youare not obliged to go with Rollo, that I know of. Do you wishto compliment these other small fry?'

'I want to ride, Mr. Falkirk, I believe I should go with Mr. Simms--if he were the only chance; and that is saying a gooddeal. However, I can throw all the responsibility on you, sir;that is one comfort. '

'It won't break me, ' said Mr. Falkirk; 'that is another. Whydo they all come for you so, this hot weather!'

But she laughed at that, and went off out of the room. 

When she came down to the side entrance of Chickaree some houror two later, she found her side-saddle going on an Arab-looking brown mare, and Rollo playing hostler. His own horsestanding by was clearly also a new comer; a light bay, nervousand fidgety, for he did not keep still one minute; ears, hoofs, eyes and head were constantly and restlessly shifting. The brown mare stood still, only lifting her pretty head andlooking as Wych Hazel came out. She ran down the steps. 

'I got leave!' she said, gleefully, --'did you?'--then stopped, surveying operations. 'But was there nobody about the place todo that but Mr. Rollo?

The quiet negative which answered this covered more groundthan the question. Rollo finished his work carefully, with oneor two looking on; mounted the little lady, and went to hisown horse. Before mounting, here, he seemed to hold someconversation with the creature; caressed him; stood in frontand spoke to him, patting and stroking his head; then inanother moment was on his back. 

There is a great difference in people's riding, as there is inpeople's walking; and once in a while, among plenty of goodaverage walkers and riders, there is one whom it is a pleasureto see. This man was such a one. He was a perfectly well-mademan, and had the ease and grace in all his movements whichsuch a build goes far to ensure; when on horseback it seemedas if he had communicated these qualities to his horse, andthe two moved as one embodiment of ease and grace, with powersuperadded. Stuart Nightingale on horseback was a finegentleman, perfectly got up, and riding well, but yet a finegentleman in the saddle. Major Seaton rode ruggedly, if I maysay so. Mr. May was more at home in his phaeton; others weremore or less stiff and uncertain. But the attitude and actionof Rollo were utter unconscious ease, whatever form of actionhis horse might take. So it was now. For a few minutes hisrestless animal moved in all sorts of eccentric ways; butwhere most men would have been a little awkward and many verymiserable, his rider was simply unconcerned and seemed to betaking his pleasure. To see such a rider is to be filled witha great sense of harmony. 

What a ride they had then, when the hill was descended and thegates of Chickaree left behind! The road for some miles wasknown to Wych Hazel; then they branched off into another whereall was new. The qualities of the brown mare had been comingto her rider's knowledge by degrees; a beautiful mouth, excellent paces, thorough training; knowing her business anddoing it. As they entered upon a long smooth stretch of roadwithout anybody in sight, Rollo proposed a run; and they hadit; and it was upon drawing bridle after this that he asked aquestion. 

'How do you like her?'

Now Miss Kennedy, in defiance of all-known laws, had neverbeen so smitten with the regulation beaver upon a man's head, as to place it on her own. So instead of its stiff proportionsshe wore a little round straw hat; utterly comfortable, utterly graceful, and drooping down over her eyes � la MarieStuart, so as to keep those wayward things in deep seclusionwhen she chose. Just now, however, she turned them full on hercompanion, answering:

'O _very_ much!--I suspect she has only one fault. '

'What in the world is that? Have you discovered already what Ihave sought for in vain?

'It is the reverse of my speciality, ' said Wych Hazel--'soperhaps that makes me sharpsighted. I am afraid she alwaysbehaves well. '

'She knows her business, ' said Rollo. 'I think what you wanther to do, she will do. Pardon me; do you wish her--it israther paradoxical--to _thwart_ you wishes!'

'No, ' said the girl, laughing a little, --'I put it somewhatdifferently: perhaps I might like, just occasionally, tothwart hers!'

'She'll be an extraordinary animal if she does not some timeor other give you a chance. Now do you know what you arecoming to?'

The scenery was changing, had changed. The level, open roadthey had been clearing on the gallop, had gradually drawnwithin high banks, which as they went on grew higher andbroken, till the country assumed the character of a glen ordeep valley. Opening a little here and there, this valleyshewed ahead of them now a succession of high, long, dingybuildings; and a large, rapid stream of water was seen to rununder the opposite bank. It had not been visible until now; soit probably turned off near this point into an easier channelthan the course of their road would have afforded. The scenewas extremely picturesque; sunshine and shadow mingling on thesides of the dell and on the roofs and gables of the buildingsin the bottom. These were both large and small; it was quite asettlement; cottages, small and mean and dingy, standing allalong on the higher banks, as well as lower down near thestream. Gradually the dell spread into a smooth, narrowvalley. 

'The mills, I suppose? I have not been this way before. Itmakes me half wild to get out again! So if I do any wildthings----How lovely the dell is!'

'This is Morton Hollow, ' said Rollo, looking at her. 'Can Ihelp you do any wild things?'

'The houses are like him, ' said Hazel, turning away, and hercolour deepening under the look. 'Such a place!'

She might say 'such a place. ' As they went on the character ofit became visible more and more. There were dark, high, closefactories, whence the hum of machinery issued; poor, meandwellings, small and large, clustered here and there in theintermediate spaces, from which if any sounds came, they wereless pleasant than the buzz of machines. Scarce any humanitywas abroad; what there was deepened the impression of thedreariness of the place. 

'Mr. Rollo, ' said Hazel, at last. 'I hope your friend does notlive down here?'

'I don't think I have any friend here, ' he answered, ratherthoughtfully. He had been riding slowly for the last fewminutes, looking intently at what he was passing. Now, at asudden turn of the road, where the valley made a sharp angle, they came upon an open carriage standing still. Two ladieswere in it. Rollo lifted his hat, but the lady nearest themleaned out and cried 'Stop, stop!'

A gentleman must obey such a behest. Rollo wheeled and stoodstill. 

'Where are you going?' said the lady. Probably Rollo did nothear, for he looked at her calmly without answering. 

'Is that the little lady?' said the speaker, stretching herhead out a little further to catch better sight of Wych Hazel. 'Aren't you going to introduce me, Dane? I must know her, youknow. '

It is quite impossible to describe on paper the flourish withwhich Rollo's horse responded. Like a voluntary before thepiece begins, like the elegant and marvellous sweep of lineswith which a scribe surrounds his signature, the bay curvettedand wheeled and danced before the proposed introduction. Veryelegant in its way, and to any one not in the secretimpossible to divine whether it was the beast or his rider atplay. Finally brought up on the other side of Wych Hazel, whenRollo spoke. 

'Miss Kennedy, I have the honour to present Mrs. Coles, whowishes to be known to you. '

As Miss Kennedy bent her head, she had one glimpse of a longpale face, surrounded with bandeaux of fair hair, which lookedtowards her eagerly. Before she had well lifted her head againher horse was moving, and the next instant dashing along atfull speed; the bay close alongside. The mills were almostpassed; a very few minutes brought them quite away from thesettlement, and they began to mount to higher ground by asteep hilly path. 

'Well!'--said Hazel, looking at her companion. 

'Well?' said Rollo, innocently. 

She laughed. 

'As if I did not know better than that!'

'I wish I did, ' said Rollo. 'Now, do you know what you arecoming to?'

'No, not a bit. I said I wouldn't come through that place--butwhen you are in a strange land--and in charge of a--strange!--cavalier--'

'You are coming to the house of my old nurse in the hills aquarter of a mile further on. I did not understand you to meanthat you would not go through _that_ place. '

'Does the man keep another Hollow for himself?' said WychHazel. 'I am glad we are going to the hills, if only to helpme forget the valley. How can people live so! And oh! how canpeople let them!'

'This is a concomitant of great civilization. I saw no suchplace when I was in Norway, ' Dane observed. 

'And was--what is her name?--living there when you came home?'

'Gyda? Down in the Hollow! O no. I had established her up herein comfort before I left her. '

More and more lovely, wild and lonely, the scenery grew; theroad getting deeper among the hills and winding higher andhigher with the head of the valley. Then they came to thecottage, the only one in sight; a low house of grey stone, setwith its back against the woods which covered the hill. Alittle cleared and cultivated ground close to it, and in frontthe road. Rollo dismounted, fastened his horse, and took WychHazel down. 

'Do you like to come to such places?' he asked as he was tyingthe brown mare to the fence. 

'I know very little about them, ' she said. '_This_ looks like aplace to come to. '

'It is unique, ' said Rollo, as he led the way in. 

He opened the door softly. An utterance of joy Wych Hazelheard, before she could see the person from whom it came. Rollo turned and presented Miss Kennedy then. It was that. Hedid not present old Gyda to _her_. And then Wych Hazel wasestablished in the best chair, and could look at her leisure, for at first she was not the one attended to. 

She saw a little person, with a brown face, much shrivelled;which yet possessed two sparkling keen black eyes. There wasnot a pretty feature in the old woman's face, for the eyeswere not beautiful now, in any sensuous meaning of beauty. Andyet, as Wych Hazel looked, presently the word 'lovely' was theword that came up to her. That was of course due only to thepervading expression; which was pure, loving and refined farbeyond what the young lady had often seen. She was dressed ina short jacket of dark cloth, braided with bright braid, andfastened at the throat with a large silver brooch. Herpetticoat was of the same cloth, drawn up plain over the bosomin an ungraceful manner; her head was covered with a colouredhandkerchief, tied so that the ends hung down the back. 

After seeing Wych Hazel seated, she for the moment paid her nofurther attention. Rollo had sat down too; and the old womancame close in front of him and stood looking silently, herhead reaching then only a little above his shoulders. She wasold, undeniably; however, it was an entirely vigorous andhearty age. Her hand presently came to Rollo's face, pushingback the thick and somewhat curly locks from his temples, andthen taking his head in both hands she kissed first one cheekand then the other. 

'Don't be partial, Gyda!' said he, smiling at her. And ifthere was beauty of only one kind in the little black eyesthat looked at him, there was much of both kinds in the youngman's face. Gyda left him and went over to her other visitor. 

And as far as minuteness of examination went, certainly shewas not 'partial. ' It would have been a bit trying fromanybody else--the still, intent, searching look of the oldwoman upon the young face. But the look was one of such uttersweetness, so thoroughly loving and simple and kind, if it wasalso keen, that there was after all in it more to soothenerves than to excite them. Her hand presently came to WychHazel's face too, drawing down over the soft cheek andhandling the wavy ringlets, and tracing the delicate chin'soutline. Slowly and considerately. 

'Is she good?' was the first word that Gyda spoke in thisconnection, as na�vely as possible. It was rather directed toRollo. The girl's colour had stirred and mounted under thescrutiny, until interest nearly put shyness out of sight; andthe winsome brown eyes now looked at Gyda more wistful thanafraid. They followed her question with a swift glance, butthen Miss Kennedy hastily took the matter into her own hands. 

'Not generally!' she answered, the lips parting and curling insweet mirthful lines that at least did not speak of very deepwrong-doing. Most gentlemen probably would have uttered aprotest, but Rollo was absolutely silent. Gyda looked from oneto the other. 

'Why are ye no good?' she asked, with her hand on Wych Hazel'sshoulder. The expression of the words is very difficult todescribe. It was an inquiry, put with the simplest accent ofwondering and regretful desire. Hazel looked at her, studyingthe question rather in the face than in the words. 

'I suppose, ' she said slowly, 'because I do not like it. '

'You must know, Gyda, ' said Rollo, smiling, 'that Miss Hazel'snotion of goodness is, giving up her own will to somebodyelse's. '

'And that's just what it is, Dane Olaf, ' said the old woman, looking round at him. 'Ye could not have expressed it better. But that is not hard, nor uncomfortable, when ye lovesomebody?' she added, her sweet eyes going back to Wych Hazel. The girl shook her head. 

'I never loved anybody, then. Unless mamma, ' she answered. 

'Lady, do ye know those words in your Bible--"He that dwellethin the secret place of the Most High shall abide under theshadow of the Almighty?" Giving up yourself to God will put yejust there! And then--"He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust. " '

It is one thing to hear these words sonorously read in church, or to run one's eye over them in a perfunctory manner. To seeGyda speak them, with the accent and air of one undeniablyproving the truth of them, that was another thing. 

'There may be yet a difficulty, Gyda, ' said Rollo. 

'What is't?'

'One may not know just how to get there, even after you haveshewed the way. '

Rollo was not speaking lightly; but Gyda as she went back toher seat only answered, 'Ye can always ask. '

'Whom would you bid me ask, Gyda? I would about as lieve cometo you as anybody, if I wanted counsel. '

'Give yourself to God, lad, and ye'll know there's but One toask of. And there's but One before that, if ye want realhelp. '

There was a minute's pause; and then Rollo asked what Gyda hadfor him to do. 'Not yet, ' she answered; and with that left theroom. Rollo brought his chair to Wych Hazel's side. 

'She is going to get you some supper, ' he said, with a smile. 

'No, it will be all for you, --and you will give me part of it. I should think you would come here very often, Mr. Rollo. '

'Do you?' said he, looking pleased. 'That shews I did right tobring you here. Now you'll have a Norse supper--the first youever had. Gyda is Norse herself, I told you; she is aTellemarken woman. If we were in Norway now, there would be inthe further end of this room two huge cribs, which would bethe sleeping place for the whole family. Overhead would befishing nets hanging from the rafters, and a rack with a dozenor more rifles and fowling-pieces. On the walls you would seecollars for reindeer, powder-horns and daggers. Gyda'sspinning-wheel _is_ here, you see; and her stove, besides thefireplace for cooking. Her dairy is a separate building, afterNorway fashion, and so is her summer kitchen, where I know sheis this minute, making porridge. Can you eat porridge?'

'Truly I cannot say, Mr. Rollo. But I do not often "thwart"myself--as you may have observed. Does the absence of Norseblood make the fact doubtful?'

'Norse habit, say rather, ' said Rollo, shaking his head;'Norse habit, induced by Norse necessity. In many a Norwegianhomestead you would get little besides porridge, often. ButGyda likes it, and so do I. At any rate, it is invariable fora Norse meal, in this house. It is one of the things which canbe transplanted. Gyda would have enjoyed a row of reindeer'shorns bristling along the eaves of her cottage; but I told herthe boys of the Hollow would not leave them long if I set themthere. '

'But you are half Danish, ' said Wych Hazel. 'And was it forlove of Denmark that you got your name?'

'Which name? If you please?'

'You know, ' said Wych Hazel, with a shy blush, as if it were asort of freedom for her to know and speak it, 'they call you, "Dane Rollo. " '

'That's not my name, though, ' said he, smiling. 'I am nofurther a Dane than being born in Copenhagen makes me so. I amhalf Norse, and a quarter German; Denmark has given me anickname, --that's all. '

'Then, if we were in Norway and this a considerable farmhouse, we should have passed through an ante-room filled with allsorts of things. Meal chests, and tools, and thongs ofleather, skins of animals and wild birds, snow shoes and casksand little sledges. Do you know, ' he went on, 'if this werenot the land of my father, I could find it in my heart to goand live in the land of my mother. It is a noble land, and itis a fine people. Feudal law never obtained footing there;every landholder held under no superior; and so there is amanly, genial independence in all the country-side, not foundeverywhere else. '

He went on for some little time to give Wych Hazel pictures ofthe scenery, unlike all she had ever known. He knew and lovedit well, and his sketches were given graphically. In the midstof this Gyda came in again; and Rollo broke off, and askedher, laughingly, if she had any 'fladbrod. '

'Fresh, ' she said. 'Olaf, can't you get her some peaches?'

Rollo went off; and the old woman began to set her table withbowls and plates and spoons; an oddly carved little tub ofbutter, and a pile of thin brown cakes. Having done this, andRollo not returning, on the contrary seeming to have foundmore than peach trees to detain him, for the sound of hammerwas heard at intervals, the old woman came and stood by WychHazel again. The straw hat was off; and she eyed in a tenderkind of way, wistful too, the fair young face. 

'Dear, ' she said, in that same wistful way, laying her hand onthe girl's shoulder, 'does he love you?'

Hazel started in extreme surprise; looking up with wide-openeyes; and more pale than red in her first astonishment. 

'He? me?--No!' she said, as the blood came surging back. Butthen recollections came too, and possibilities--and eyes andhead both drooped. And with the inevitable instinct of truththe girl added, under her breath--

'Perhaps--how do I know? I cannot tell!'

By that time head and hands too were on the back of her chair, and she had turned from Gyda, and her face was out of sight. With a tender little smile, which she could not see, the oldNorse woman stood beside her, and with tender fingers whichshe did feel, smoothed and stroked the hair on each side ofher head. For a few minutes. 

'And, dear, ' she said presently, in the same soft way, 'do youlove him?'

There are questions, confusing enough when merely propoundedby ourselves, in the solitude of our hearts; but which whencoming first from the lips of another, before they have beenfairly recognized as questions, become simply unbearable. Hazel shrank away from the words, gentle as they were, withone of her quick gestures. 

'I do not know, ' she cried. 'I have never thought! I have nobusiness to know!'

And lifting her head for a moment, with eyes all grave andtroubled and almost tearful, she looked into the face of theold Norwegian, mutely beseeching her to be merciful, and notpush her advantage any further. 

'I know!' said Gyda, softly. 'But it's only me. ' And as ifrecognizing a bond which Wych Hazel did not, she lifted onelittle white hand in her two brown ones and kissed it. 

'Everybody shews me their hearts, ' she went on; 'but it's allhere, ' touching her breast, and meaning probably that it wentno further. 'May I love my lad's lady a little bit?'

A strangely humble, wistful, sweet look she bent on Hazel asshe spoke, to which the girl herself, too dumbfounded andshaken off her feet to quite know where she was, could find nobetter answer than a full rush of bright drops to her eyes, coming she knew not whence; and then a deep suffusion ofthroat and cheeks and brow, but was much better recognized andsaid it meant to stay. Her head went down again. 

'Now, it's only me, ' said the old woman, quietly again. ButRollo's voice was heard from somewhere speaking her name, andshe hurried out. There was a little interval, and then shecame back bearing dishes to set on the table. Back and forthshe went several times, and very likely had found more thingsto take up Rollo's attention; for he came not until she hadher board all ready and summoned him. It was a well spreadboard when all was done. Shallow dishes of porridge, piles offladbrod, bowls of cream, peaches, and coffee. And when Gydawith due care had made a cup for Wych Hazel and brought it toher hand, the little lady was obliged to confess that it wasbetter than even Chickaree manufacture. And the porridge wasno brown farinaceous mass in a rough and crude state, but cameto table in thin, gelatinous cakes, sweet and excellent whenbroken into the cream. But if Wych Hazel had been afterwardsput in the witness-box to tell what she had been eating, Ithink she would have refused to be sworn. The sheer necessityof the case had made her hold up her head--cool her cheeks shecould not; but she took what was given her, and talked of itand praised it almost as steadily as if she had known what itwas. Only, as extreme timidity is with some people anunnerving thing, there were moments when, do what she would, her lips must be screened behind the cup, and words that shesaid which were almost hoarse from the extreme difficulty withwhich they were spoken. As for a laugh, she tried it once. 

She was served and tended with, it is hard to say whether mostcare or most pleasure, by both her companions. Midway of themeal came a help to her shyness. 

The door slowly opened and a girl stepped in. She might havebeen fourteen or fifteen; she was tall enough for that; butthe little figure was like a rail. So slight, so thin, solittle relieved by any sufficiency of drapery in her poorcostume. But the face was above all thin, pale, worn; witheyes that looked large and glassy from want and weariness. Shecame in, but then stood still, looking at the party where shehad expected to find only the old Norwegian woman. 

'Who is this?' said Rollo to Gyda. 

'It is Tr�dchen, of the Hollow. What is wanting, my child?'said Gyda. 

'Come seeking medicine for the mind or body?' said Rollo. Butafter a second glance he rose up, went to the girl and offereda chair. She looked at him without seeming to know hismeaning. 

'Speak Deutsch, Olaf, ' said Gyda; 'and ye'll get betterhearing. She can't speak yon. '

A few words in German made a change. The wan face waked up alittle and looked astonished at the speaker. Rollo seated her;then poured out himself a cup of Gyda's coffee, creamed andsugared it duly, and offered it to the girl with theobservance he would have given to a lady. Then he moved herchair nearer to the table, and supplied porridge and thenpeaches; talking and talking to her all the while. The answersbegan to come at last; the girl's colour changed with thecoffee, and her eyes brightened with every spoonful of thecream and porridge; and at last came a smile--what was itlike?--like the wintriest gleam of a cold sky upon a coldworld. Rollo got better than that, however, before he wasdone. 

He had come back to Wych Hazel and left the girl to finish hersupper in peace; when suddenly his attention was attracted bysome question addressed by the latter to Gyda. He looked upand himself answered. The girl started from her seat with adegree of animation she had given no symptom of till then, said a few words very eagerly and hurriedly, and darted fromthe door like a sprite. 

'What now?' said Hazel, looking after the girl. 'What has Mr. Rollo done?'

'Cut short somebody's supper, I'm afraid. But she finished herporridge, didn't she? And has taken one peach with her! Dothey all look that, Gyda?'

Gyda answered that they were 'very bad;' she meant in theirway of life and their thriving on it. 

'And how otherwise?'

There seemed to be not much to say 'otherwise. ' They were verygood to her, Gyda remarked. Wych Hazel listened, but sherisked no more questions. The supper lingered a while longer;Gyda and Rollo talking of various things and drawing in WychHazel when they could; then Gyda fetched a book and opened itand laid before Rollo. He left the table and came to WychHazel's side. 

'Gyda always, when she can, has prayers with her visitors, ' hesaid, 'and she makes them read for her. She, and I, would likeit if you do the reading to-night. Will you?'

How easily she started to-night!--Hazel answered withoutlooking up--

'She would rather have you. '

'No, she wouldn't. Excuse me! She asked me to ask you. '

The girl had not found her feet yet, nor got clear of herbewilderment. And so, before she more than half knew what shewas about she had taken the book and was reading--absolutelyreading aloud to those two!--the ninety-first Psalm. Aloud, itwas; but only because the voice was so wonderfully clear andsweet-toned could they have heard a word. As it was, neitherlistener lost one. 

They knelt then, and Gyda uttered a prayer sweet enough tofollow the Psalm. A little louder than Wych Hazel's low key, but not less quiet in tone. It was not long; she took thosetwo, as it were, in the arms of her love, and presented themas candidates for all the blessing of the Psalm; making herplea for the two, somehow, a compound and homogeneous one. 

The sun was down: it was time to get to horse--for the riders. Gyda's farewells were very affectionate in feeling, thoughalso very quiet in manner. 

'Will you come to see me again?' she asked of Wych Hazel, while Rollo was gone out to see to the horses. 

'Will you let me? I should like to come. '

'Then you'll come, ' said Gyda. She had shaken hands with Rollobefore. But now when he came in for Wych Hazel he went up towhere Gyda was standing, bent down and kissed her. 

'Miss Kennedy, have you said "Tak f�r maden?" '

'I? No. How should I?' said Wych Hazel; 'is it a spell?'

'Come here, ' said he, laughing. 'You must shake hands withGyda and say, "Tak f�r maden;" that is, "Thanks for the meat. "That is Norwegian good manners, and you are in a Norwegianhouse. Come and say it. '

She came shyly, trying to laugh too, and again held out herhand; stammering a little over the unaccustomed syllables, butrather because they were prescribed than because they weredifficult. Certainly if there was a spell in the air thatnight Wych Hazel thought it had got hold of her. 

'That's proper, ' said Rollo, 'and now we'll go. It ought tohave been said when we rose from table; but better late thannever. That's your first lesson in Norse. '

Rollo had been in a sort of quiet, gay mood all the afternoon. Out of the house and in the saddle this mood seemed to beexchanged for a different one. He was silent, attending to hisbusiness with only a word here and there, alert and grave. Thewords to the ear, however, were free and pleasant as ever. Atthe bottom of the hill, in the meadow, he came close to WychHazel's side. 

'Don't canter here, ' said he. 'Trot. Not very fast, for thepeople are out from their work now, many of them. But we'll goas fast as we can. '

'Fast as you like, ' she answered. 'I will follow your pace. '

'No, ' said he, smiling; 'we might run over somebody. '

The people were out from their work, and many of them stood ingroups and parties along the sides of the street. It was anirregular roadway, with here a mill and there a mill, on oneside and on the other, and cottages scattered all alongbetween and behind. It had been an empty way when they came;it was populous now. Men and women were there, sometimes inseparate groups; and a fringe of children, boys and girls, onboth sides of the road. The general mill population seemed tobe abroad. They appeared to be doing nothing, all standinggazing at the riders. The light was fading now, and thewretchedness of their looks was not so plainly to be seen indetail; and yet, somehow, the aggregate effect was quite inkeeping with that of Tr�dchen's appearance alone at the houseabove. 

Through this scattering of humanity the riders went at agentle, even trot; the horses pacing almost in step, thestirrups as near together as they could be. As they came tothe thickest of this crowd of spectators, Rollo courteouslyraised his hat to them. There was at first no answer, then amurmur, then two or three old hats were waved in the air. Again Rollo saluted them, and in two minutes more the millswere passed. The road lay empty and quiet between the highbanks, on which the soft twilight was beginning to settledown. 

'I like that, ' said Wych Hazel, impulsively, forgetting hershyness--she, too, had bowed as they rode by. 'Mr. Rollo, is ita secret, what you said to that child? It looks to me as ifshe had brought the people out to look at you. '

'Will you ride?' said he. 'Let us have a canter first. '

It was a pretty swift canter, and the two had flown over agood deal of ground before Rollo drew bridle again on comingout into the main road. 

'Now, ' he said, 'we can talk. There is no secret aboutanything. The girl asked, at Gyda's, how soon we were goingaway? I answered, in half an hour. Whereupon she begged veryurgently that we would delay and not get to the mills till _she_had been there; and darted away as you saw. '

'Impressive power of peaches!' said Hazel, with a laugh. 'Commend my penetration. I wish all our waste baskets of fruitcould be emptied out in that Hollow, and so be of some use. Itwould be fun to send Mr. Morton's own grapes'--but there shestopped. 

'I am afraid you are mistaken, ' said Rollo, gravely. 'Themanner and accent of the girl made me apprehend danger of someannoyance--which I think she went to prevent. The road being a_cul de sac_, she knew, and they knew, we must come back thatway. Gyda will find out all about it; but she said it meantmischief. '

'Mischief? To us?'

'Yes. They are very degraded, and I suppose embittered, bytheir way of life; and do not like to see people taking theirpleasure as we are doing. '

'_That_ was what they were out for! Mr. Falkirk may well say myeyes are ignorant, ' said the girl, thoughtfully. 'But Mr. Rollo--is this the only way to---- What do ordinary people callyour friend?'

'Gyda? The name is Bo�rresen--contracted by vulgar usage toBorsen. '

'Well, is this the only way you can get to her cottage?'

'The only way; except by a scramble over the hills and fieldswhere no way is. I fancy you are mistaken again, however, inyour conclusions from what you have seen this evening. I donot think they were out to do us mischief. Their attitude didnot strike me as like that. I think Tr�dchen had beenbeforehand with them. '

'And does Mrs. Bo�rresen like to have you come and go throughthe Hollow, knowing the people?'

'I never heard of the least annoyance to any one there before. I can only surmise that the sight of a lady, where no ladyever comes, excited the spite of some children perhaps. Andthey might have expressed their spite by throwing a fewstones. _That_ I half expected. '

'What would you have done then?' said Wych Hazel, with suddencuriosity. 

'Dodge the stones, of course!' Rollo answered quietly. 

Hazel gleamed up at him from under her hat, her lips in acurl. 

'That is only what you would have _tried_ to do, ' she said. Butthen Miss Wych subsided and fell back into the closest raptattention to the beauties of the landscape and the eveningsky. 

'The only time, ' Rollo went on, 'when the least annoyancewould be possible, is after work hours, or just at noon whenthey are out for dinner. At all other times the wholepopulation is shut up in the mills, and the street is empty. '

'Was it your peaches then after all?' said the girl suddenly. 'Or did she pray us through?'

Rollo gave her one of the bright, sweet smiles he sometimesgave to his old nurse. 

'How do I know?' he said. 'I think--peaches were sweet. And Idon't believe Gyda ever prays in vain. '

Of course, such an afternoon, everybody had been out; happilythe hour was so late that few were left on the road; but Wychcould not escape all encounters. 

'Your days are numbered, Dane Rollo!' called out Mr. Kingslandas he went by. 'Coffee and pistols at four to-morrow morning!--And if my shot fails, there are ten more to follow. The strongprobability is that Miss Kennedy beholds us both for the lasttime!' Which melancholy statement was honoured with a softirrepressible laugh that it was a pity Mr. Kingsland would notwait to hear. 

Then before Wych Hazel had brought her face into order, asharp racking trot came down a cross-road, and Kitty Fisherreined up at her side. 

'I vow!' she said, --'you look jolly here! The Viking must havebeen exerting himself. So! you are the girl that neverflirts!'

'What of it?' said Wych Hazel, with cool gravity. 

'O nothing, --nothing in the world!' said Miss Fisher. 'I'vecome to get a lesson, that's all. For real instruction in theart, commend me to your cream-faced people who never do it. '

'Nobody ever saw cream the colour of _my_ face, ' said Wych Hazelgood-humouredly. 'It is yours, Kitty, that always deserves thecomparison. '

Here Rollo, who had been sheering about for a minute on hisspringy bay, suddenly came up between the two girls and keptthe brown mare too far to the left to permit another flankmovement to out-general him. 

'I should like somebody to explain to me, ' he said, addressingKitty, 'what flirting is. I have never been able to come to aclear understanding of what is meant by the term. '

'Very likely, ' said Kitty, 'seeing it's a muddled-up thing. Never did it yourself, I suppose?'

'That depends upon what "it" is, ' insisted Rollo. 

'Does it?' said Kitty. 'Well, if ever you try it with me, you'll burn your fingers and find out. '

Again in spite of everything Wych Hazel laughed, --ever sosoftly, but undeniably. 

'Tell me what it is, --and I will promise never to try it withyou. ' Kitty's handsome face darkened. 

'Can you reason back from particular cases to generalprinciples?' she said. 

'You always want a great many cases to form an induction, 'said Rollo, 'I thought you would shirk the question. '

'Shirk? not I?' said Miss Fisher. 'I was just going to giveyou an instance. That girl, who has played coy all summer, andwouldn't ride with a man here because she must have her ownhorse, forsooth; suddenly waives her scruples in favour ofanother man, and finds she can ride _his_ horse, withoutdifficulty. '

Wych Hazel drew up her graceful figure to its full height, butshe said not a word. Riding at ease, as usual, Rollo spoke ina voice as clear as it was cold. 

'Only a coward, Miss Fisher, strikes a man--or a woman--whosehands are bound. Good evening. '

Lifting his hat with his most curt salutation, Rollo seizedthe bridle of the brown mare and made her understand what wasexpected of her, his own bay at the instant springing forwardwith a bound. Miss Kitty was left in the distance. Neither wasshe mounted well enough to follow if she had had theinclination. The run this time was in good earnest, till theydrew rein again near the gate of Chickaree. 

'I knew I could trust you to keep your seat, ' said Rollo thenlightly to his companion, 'even if I was unceremonious. '

'And I--' That sentence was never finished. This last run hadrather shaken the colour out of cheeks than into them. ButHazel had a good deal of real bravery about her; and in aminute more she turned again to her companion. 

'Thank you, Mr. Rollo, ' she said, gravely. 'I think you are atrue knight. '

'You might as well talk reason to Vixen as to Kitty Fisher, 'muttered Rollo. But in another minute he changed his tone. 

'Are you tired?'

'I hardly know. Which should prove that I am not. '

'I am afraid it don't prove that at all. '

He was silent till they came to the door where they hadmounted in the afternoon. Dismounting then, and coming to WychHazel's side to do the same service for her, Mr. Rollolingered a little about the preliminaries; as if he likedthem. 

'Mrs. Bywank tells me, ' he said, 'that you have been eager allsummer for the riding you could not have. You must forgiveher, --she cannot help talking of you. Will you do me the honourto let Jeannie Deans stand in your stable for the present, andride her with whomsoever you please to honour in that way. '

There was a little inarticulate cry of joy at that, --thentimidly, 'But, Mr. Rollo----'

'Well?' said he, softly. 

'You might want her. And--if I rode with other people, theymight take me where you would not like her to go. Will you letme ride her sometimes just by myself?' she said, glancing athim and instantly away again. 

'That is for your pleasure to say, ' he returned lightly, lifting her down. And then, detaining her slightly for justhalf a second, he added, laughing, 'Please don't take Jeannie anywhere that I would not like herto go!'

CHAPTER XXX. 

THE WILL. 

That night, and the next morning, Miss Kennedy had a fightwith herself, trying hard to regain her footing, which wasconstantly swept away again by some new incoming tide ofthoughts. It looks an easy matter enough, to climb out oncemore upon the ice through which you have broken; but whenpiece after piece comes off in your hands, sousing you deeperdown than before, the thing begins to look serious. And inthis case the young lady began to get impatient. 

'Such unmitigated nonsense!' she declared to herself, with hercheeks on fire. But nevertheless said nonsense lifted its headvery cleverly from under all the negations she could pile uponit; and indeed looked rather refreshed than otherwise by theoperation. How Mr. Falkirk had dimly hinted at such things, long ago, --and how she had laughed at them! Was _this_ what hehad suggested her confiding to him?--Whereupon Miss Kennedybrought herself up short. 

'I should like to know what I have to confide!' she said. 'Ihope I am not quite a fool. ' And with that she beat a retreat, and rushed down-stairs, and gave Mr. Falkirk an extravaganzaof extra length and brilliancy for his breakfast; which, however, it may be noted, did not include any particulars ofher ride. But when breakfast was over, Miss Kennedy for amoment descended to business. 

'By the way, sir, I should tell you, Mr. Rollo proposes toleave one of his horses here, for me to use till my own come, --if that extraordinary day ever arrives. Are you agreeable--orotherwise--Mr. Falkirk?'

'I have never made any professions of being agreeable, MissHazel; and it never was charges to me, that I know. '

'No, sir, certainly, --not when rides are in question. But may Iuse this horse, which has the misfortune to belong to somebodyelse?'

'I suppose he wouldn't give it to you if it was not fit foryou to use, ' said Mr. Falkirk, rather growlingly it must beconfessed. 'Does he expect you to ride it with anybody buthim, my dear?'

'As he made no mention of expecting me to ride with him, sir, the question presents itself somewhat differently to my mind, 'said Miss Kennedy, with some heightening of colour. It had notbeen a 'pale' morning, altogether. 'Having a horse, Mr. Falkirk, may I ride with whom I like?'

'If the giver of the horse has no objections, Miss Hazel, Imake none. '

'I am afraid, sir, your long seclusion has slightly unsettledyour mind, ' said Wych Hazel, looking at him with graveconsideration, 'There is no "giver" of the horse in the firstplace; and in the second, you know perfectly well that withhis first "objection" to my escorts, the horse would go back. And you used to be so exact, Mr. Falkirk!' she added, in amelancholy tone. 

'Yes, my dear, ' said her guardian, passing his hand over hisface; 'no doubt my mind is in the condition you suggest. I amprobably enchanted; which does not help me to guard you fromfalling into the same awkward condition. But, Miss Hazel, Ihave engaged a new groom for you. I desire that you will takehim with you instead of Dingee. Dingee is no more than amonkey. '

It fell out, however, that Miss Kennedy in the next few daysrefused several 'escorts, ' on her own responsibility; sayingnothing about Jeannie Deans. Instead whereof, she went off inthe early morning hours and had delightful long trots byherself, with only the new groom; who, she did not happen toremark, developed a remarkable familiarity with the new horse. Threading her way among the beautiful woods of Chickaree, wherever a bridle-path offered, and sure to be at home longbefore Mr. Falkirk's arrival to breakfast, so that he knewnothing whatever about the matter. Just why this course ofaction was in favour, perhaps the young lady herself couldscarcely have told, had she tried; but she did not try. Whether other associations would break the harmony of somealready well established; whether she feared people'squestions about her horse; whether she liked the wild, irregular roaming through the forest

' 'ith no one nigh to hender'--

as Lowell has it. This last was undeniably true. 

Meantime Mr. Rollo himself was away again--gone for a few daysat first, and then by business kept on and on; and it suddenlyflashed into Wych Hazel's mind one day, that now, before hegot home, was the very time to go and have a good long talkwith Primrose and her father. Nobody there to come in even atdinner time but Dr. Arthur; and him Wych Hazel liked so muchand minded so little, that Dr. Arthur was in some danger ofminding it a good deal. She would go early and ride JeannieDeans, and get home before the crowd of loungers got out fortheir afternoon's play. At most it was but a little way fromDr. Maryland's to the edge of her own woods; not more thanthree miles perhaps; four to the gate. 

Primrose was overjoyed to see her. 

'What does make your visits so few and far between?' she criedas her hand came to lift off Wych Hazel's hat. 

'Well, --what does make yours?' said Hazel, gaily. 'I am comefor a little talk with you, and a lecture from Dr. Maryland, and any other nice thing I can find. '

'Then we shall keep you to dinner, and I'll have your horseput up. I do not see so much of you, Hazel, as I hoped Ishould when you came. You are such a gay lady. '

It was difficult to deny this. However, the talk ran on toother pleasanter topics, and was enjoyed by both parties forabout half an hour. Then came a hindrance in the shape of alady wearing the very face that had bowed to Wych Hazel soimpressively from the carriage in Morton Hollow. The verysame! the long pale features, the bandeaux of lustreless palehair enclosing them, and two of those lustreless eyes whichlook as if they had not depth enough to be blue; eyes whichgive, and often appropriately, the feeling of shallowness inthe character. But now and then a shallow lake of water has apit of awful depth somewhere. 

Prim's face did not welcome the interruption. 

'This is my sister, Prudentia--Mrs. Coles, ' she said. 'It isMiss Kennedy, Prudentia. '

A most gracious, not to say ingratiating, bend and smile ofMrs. Coles answered this. She was a tall, thin figure, dressedin black. It threw out the pale face and flaxen bandeaux andlight grey eyes into the more relief. 

'I am delighted to see Miss Kennedy, ' she said. 'It is quite ahoped-for pleasure. But I have seen her before--just seen her. '

Wych Hazel bowed--remembering with some amusement Mr. Rollo'scaracole on the former occasion all about Mrs. Coles. Privately she wished she had not promised to stay to dinner. 

'I was frightened to death at your riding'--the lady went on. 'Did your horse start at anything?'

'My horse starts very often when I am on him, ' said Wych Hazellaughing. 

'Does he! And do you think that is quite safe?'

'Why not?--if I start too. The chief danger in such cases is inbeing left behind. '

Wych Hazel was getting her witch mood on fast. Mrs. Coleslooked a trifle puzzled. 

'But my dear!' she said, 'the danger of _that_, I should think, would be if the other horse started. '

'O no, ma'am, ' said Hazel gravely. 'My escorts never even somuch as think of running away from me. '

At that point Primrose's gravity gave way, and she burst intoa laugh. Mrs. Coles changed the subject. 

'I have been very impatient to see one I have heard so muchof, ' she began again. 'In fact I have heard of you always. Ishould have called at Chickaree, but I couldn't get any one totake me. Arthur, he was busy--and Dr. Maryland never goesanywhere but to visit his people--Prim goes everywhere, but itis not where I want to go, for pleasure; and Dane I asked, andhe wouldn't. '

'He did not say he wouldn't, Prudentia, ' remarked her sister. 

'He didn't say he would, ' returned Mrs. Coles, with a peculiarlaugh; 'and I knew what that meant. O, I should have got theresome time. I will yet. '

Miss Kennedy bowed--she believed the fault must be hers. Butshe had not quite understood--or had confused things--in herpress of engagements. 

Mrs. Coles graciously assumed that there had been no failurein that quarter. And Dr. Maryland came in, and the dinner. Anice little square party they were, for Dr. Arthur was not athome; and yet somehow the conversation flowed in more barrenchannels than was ever the wont at that table in Wych Hazel'sexperience. A great deal of talk was about what people weredoing; a little about what they were wearing; an enormousamount about what they were saying. Part of this seemed to bereligious talk too, and yet what was the matter with it? Orwas it with Wych Hazel that something was the matter? Primroseand Dr. Maryland then shared the trouble, for whatever theysaid was in attempted diversion or correction or emendation. Certainly among them all the talk did not languish. 

There came a pause for a short space after dinner, when Dr. Maryland had gone back to his study. Then there was a demandfor Primrose; one of her Sunday school children wanted her. Wych Hazel and Mrs. Coles were left alone. Mrs. Coles changedher seat for one nearer the young lady. 

'I have been really anxious to see you, my dear Miss Kennedy, 'she began, benignly. 

'Some one of my escapades has reached her ears!' thought theyoung lady to herself; 'now if I can give her a good, harmless, mental shock, --just to bear it out!--I certainlywill. --That sounds very kind, ' she said aloud. 

'Yes, --you know I heard so much about you when you were achild, and your connection with this house, and all;--and yourwhole romantic story; and now when I learned that you weregrown up and here again, I really wanted to see you and seehow you looked. I must, you know, ' she added, with herpeculiar smile. 

There was so much in these words that was incomprehensible, that Wych Hazel for the moment was at a loss for any answer atall; and waited for what would come next, with eyes ratherlarger than usual. Mrs. Coles went on, scanning her carefullyas she spoke, that same smile, half flattering, half assuming, wreathing her lips. 

'I did want very much to see you--I was curious, and I am. Dotell me--how does it feel to have two guardians? I shouldthink, you know, that one would be enough for comfort; and theother is sure to be a jealous guardian. Perhaps you don't mindit, ' added Mrs. Coles, with a face so amiable, that if WychHazel had been a cat it would have certainly provoked aspring. 

The first thing that struck the girl in this speech, was acertain sinister something, which by sheer instinct of self-defence threw her into position at once. The outwardexpression of it this time, seemed to be just one of the poorjokes about Mr. Rollo. 'Have you two guardians?' Mr. Nightingale had said. 

'O sometimes I mind one, and sometimes I do not!' sheanswered, with a laugh. 

'Ah, but _which_ one do you mind?' said Mrs. Coles shrewdly. 'Ordo they both pull together? To be sure, that is to be hoped, for your sake. It is a very peculiar position! And, I shouldthink, trying. It would be to me. '

'People say there are a good many trying situations in life, 'said Wych Hazel meekly, watching her antagonist. Why did thelady seem to her such?

'Yes!' said Mrs. Coles with half a sigh. 'And to be young andrich and gifted with beauty and loaded with admiration, isn'tthe worst; if it _is_ trying to enjoy it all between twoguardians. Do they keep you very close, my dear?'

('I think she is a little crazy, ' thought the girl. 'Nowonder--with such eyes. '--) 'A dozen could hardly do that, ma'am, thank you. Makes a more difficult fence to leap, ofcourse--but when you are used to the exercise--'

Mrs. Coles laughed, a thin peculiar sort of laugh, notenjoyable to the hearer, though seeming to be enjoyed by theperson from whom it proceeded. She had the air of beingamused. 

'Well, ' she said, 'I should like to see you leap over fencesof Dane's making. He used to do that for mine sometimes; itwould serve him right. Does he know you do it?'

Unmistakeably, by degrees, Hazel felt her pulses quickening. There was more in this than mere banter; it was too connectedand full of purpose for insanity. What was it? what dread wassoftly creeping towards her; and she could hear only abreaking twig or a rushing leaf? She must be very wary!

'I have been riding in other directions, ' she answeredcarelessly. 'And not leaping much at all. '

The laugh just appeared again. 

'Of course I do not know, but I fancy, his fences would not beeasy to get over; Dane's, I mean. He was a very difficult boyto manage. Indeed I cannot say that I ever did manage him. Hewould have his own way, and my father always take sides withhim. So everybody. So Primrose. O, Prim won't hear me say aword against him. And I am not saying a word against him; onlyI was very curious to know how he would fill his new office, and how well you would like it, and how it would all work. Itis quite a romance, really. '

'And it is quite easy to make out a romance where noneexists, ' said Miss Kennedy, in a frigid tone. 

'My dear! you wouldn't say that your case is not a romance?'said Mrs. Coles. 'I never knew one equal to it, out of books;and in them one always thinks the situation is made up. And tobe sure, so is this; only Mr. Kennedy and Dane's father madeit up between them. Don't you call your case a romance?'

'What part of my own case?' said the girl defiantly. If peoplehad come to this, it was high time to stop them. 'Perhaps ifyou will be kind enough to speak more in detail, I may be ableto put you right on several points. '

'My dear!' said Mrs. Coles, again with a surprised andprotecting air, through which the amusement neverthelessshone. 'Don't you call the terms of the will romantic?'

'What will? and what terms?'--The defiance was in her eyes now. 'I cannot correct details if you keep to generals. '

'Your father's will, my dear; your father's and mother's Ishould say, for she added her signature and confirmation. AndI'm sure _that_ was one remarkable thing. It is so uncertain howboys will grow up. '

'And the romance?' said Wych Hazel. 'Will you tell me whatversion of it you have heard?'

'Why, my dear, you know Dane is your guardian, don't you?'

The girl's heart gave a bound--but that could wait; just nowthere was other business on hand. 

'Well, ' she said, 'is that the opening chapter? What comesnext? I cannot review in part. '

'But didn't you know that, my dear? Did they keep it fromyou?'

Wych Hazel laughed, --Mrs. Coles was too much a stranger to herto know how, --and took out her watch. 'I must go in tenminutes, ' she said, --'and I do want to hear this "romance, "first. One's private affairs get such fresh little touchesfrom strange hands! Just see what a heading for your nextchapter, Mrs. Coles, --"_N. B. _ The heroine did not know herself. "Will it take you more than ten minutes?' she added, persuasively. 

'If you didn't know, Primrose will be very angry with me, 'said the lady, not seeming terrified, by the way, --'and Danewill be fit to take my head off. I had better go away beforehe comes. '

'Why, he is not your guardian too, is he?' said the girl, mockingly. 'That would prove him a man of more unboundedresources than even I had reason to suppose. '

'No, ' said Prudentia, 'it was the other way. I was his once, practically. Not legally of course. That was my father. But dotell me--_have_ I done something dreadful in telling you this?'

'I'll tell you things when you have told me, ' said Wych Hazel. 'No cross-examination can go on from both sides at once. But Ihave only nine minutes now; so your part of the fun, Mrs. Coles, will be cut short, I foresee. '--Certainly Mrs. Colesmight well be puzzled. But Wych Hazel had met with her match. 

'My dear, ' the lady returned, 'what do you want me to say? Ifyou know about the will--that is what I was thinking of, Idon't want to say anything I should not say. I didn't know butyou knew. '

'And I didn't know but you _didn't_ know, ' said Miss Kennedy, feeling as nearly wild as anybody well could. 'If you do not, and I do, it is just as well, I daresay. ' And she rose up andcrossed the room to an open window from which she could speakto her groom, Lewis, in the distance, ordering up her horse. Mrs. Coles had a good view of her as she went and returned, steady, erect, and swift. 

'My dear, ' said the lady with that same little laugh, 'I knowall about it, and did twelve years ago. You have nothing totell me--except how the plan works. About that, I confess, Iwas curious. '

'O I shall not tell you that, Mrs. Coles, unless I hearexactly what you suppose the plan to be. Exactness is veryimportant in such cases. And, by-the-by, you must be the ladyof whom Mr. Rollo has spoken to me several times, ' said WychHazel, with a sudden look. 

'Has he? What did he say?'

'Several things. But my horse is coming. Do you think Mr. Rollo would really object to our discussing the "romance"together?'

Was it cunning or instinct in Wych Hazel? Mrs. Coles answeredwith a significant chuckle, but added--'My dear, you know hehas money enough of his own. '

'Has he?' said Hazel, seeming to feel the lava crack under herfeet, and expecting every moment a hot sulphur bath. 

'So of course he is not to be supposed to want any more. Didn't you know he was rich?'

'Never thought about it, if I did. '

'No, I suppose not. But if you never thought about it, norabout him, --I declare! it _is_ hard that he should have thedisposal of you and all you've got. Rich! his father was rich, and his money has been growing and growing all these years. Idaresay he'll not be a bad master, --but yet, it's rather a hardcase, _if_ you never thought of him. '

Wych Hazel was silent a moment, as if thinking. 

'What was the exact wording of the will, Mrs. Coles? Do youremember?'

'Wording? I don't know about wording, the lawyers curl theirwords round so, and plait them together; but the sense I knowwell enough; the terms of the will. It made a great impressionupon me; and then seeing Dane for so many years, and knowingall about it, I couldn't forget it. This was the way of it. You know your father, and your mother, and Dane's father wereimmense friends?'

She paused, but Wych Hazel gave her no help. 

'So they struck up this plan between them, when Mr. Kennedyknew he was ill and wouldn't ever be well again, and that hiswife would not long outlive him. You were put under that oldgentleman's guardianship, --I forget his name at this minute, but you know it well enough, --Mr. Falkirk! that was it. Youwere to be under Mr. Falkirk's guardianship, and Dane was tobe the ward of my father; and so it was, you know. But when hearrived at the age of twenty-five, upon making certaindeclarations formally, before the proper persons, Dane, thewill appointed, should be joint guardian with Mr. Falkirk, andlook after you himself. '

Mrs. Coles paused and surveyed her auditor; indeed she hadbeen doing that all along. And perhaps people of her sort aremoved from first to last by a feeling akin to that whichpossessed the old Roman world, when men were put to painfuldeaths at public and private shows to gratify a criticalcuriosity which observed how they conquered pain or succumbedunder it. Mrs. Coles paused. 

'But I haven't told you, ' she went on with a look as sharp asa needle, 'I haven't told you yet the substance of thedeclaration Dane was to make, to enable him to take hisposition. He was to declare, that it was his wish and purposeto make you his wife. Upon that understanding, with theapprobation of Mr. Falkirk and my father, the thing was all tobe fixed, as I told you. Then you would be between twoguardians. And if you, up to the age of twenty-five, marriedany one else, against their joint consent, your lands andproperties were to pass away from you to him, except a certainprovision settled upon you for life. And, ' said Mrs. Coles, with another chuckle, 'I wanted to know how it feels. '

Had an arrow or a bullet gone through her? or was it only thehot iron burning in those words? Hazel did not know. The onecoherent thought in the girl's mind, was that a dyingstandard-bearer will sometimes bring away his colours. Shebrought off hers. 

'I see but two mistakes, ' she said, forcing herself to speakslowly, clearly. 'But I daresay either Mr. Rollo or Mr. Falkirk can point them out, any time. I must go. Goodafternoon. '

She was gone--Mrs. Coles hardly knew by which way. The nextminute Dr. Maryland's study door that looked on the gardenswung back, and Wych Hazel stood by his side. Outside wereLewis and Jeannie Deans. Her eyes were in a glitter, --theDoctor could see nothing else. 

'Sir, ' she said, laying her hand on his book in hereagerness, --'excuse me, --Is this story that Mrs. Coles tells, true?'

In utter astonishment, gentle, wondering, benignant, theDoctor looked up at her. 

'Hazel? What is the matter? Sit down, my dear, if you want tospeak to me. '

She moved a few steps off, as if afraid of being held. 'Isthis true, Dr. Maryland, that she says about me----and----Mr. Rollo?' The words half choked her, but she got them out. 'Thewill?--don't you know?--you must know! Is it true?'

'What are you talking of, Hazel? Sit down, my dear. Prudentia?What has she been talking to you about? I hope--'

'My father's will, --does she know?' Hazel repeated. 

'Your father's will?--Prudentia?--Has she been talking to you ofthat! My dear, that was not necessary. It was not needful thatyou should hear anything about it; not now. I am sorry. Prudentia must have forgotten herself!' Dr. Maryland lookedseriously disturbed. 

'You do not tell me!' cried the girl. 'Dr. Maryland, is ittrue, what she says?'

'I do not know what she has said, my dear. But you need not betroubled about it. It was a kind will, and I think on thewhole a wise one, --guarded on every side. What has Prudentiasaid to you, Hazel?' The Doctor spoke with grave authoritynow. 

To which Miss Kennedy replied characteristically. She hadcaught up the words as he went on, --'not needful she shouldknow, '--'she need not be troubled, '--then it was true! Everybodyknew it except herself; everybody was doubtless also wonderinghow it felt! For a second she looked straight into her oldfriend's face, trying vainly to find a negative there, andthen without a word she was off. And if Lewis had been calledupon to bear witness, he might have said that his youngmistress flew into the saddle, and then flew home. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

WHOSE WILL?

A great new sorrow is a many-cornered thing; having its sharppoints that sting, and its jagged points that wound; withothers so dull and heavy and immoveable that one is ready towish they could pierce through and make an end. And it isquite impossible to tell beforehand on which of them we mayhappen to strike first. 

Wych Hazel tried them all on her way home; but when that lastone came, it stayed; and through all the sharpness of theothers--through anger and mortification and the keen sense ofinjury, and the fiery rebellion against control--the movelessweight upon her breast was worse than all. What was it? Whatlaid it there? Not much to look at. A poor little plant, cutdown and fallen--that was all. Nobody knew when it started, andno one could say that it would ever bloom: it had beendoubtful and shy of its own existence, and she herself hadnever guessed it was there, till suddenly its fragrance wasall around. And even now, wilted and under foot, it wassweeter than everything else; sweeter than even its own selfhad ever been before. Yes; of all the bitter truths she hadheard that day, this that she said to herself was the onesupreme: Gyda's words of expectation would never be made good. 

'Never, ' she repeated. 'Never, never!'--and it seemed to Hazelthat in all her lonely life she had never before known what itwas to feel alone. 

_This_ then explained all his wonderful care of her, --of course;it was part of his legal duty. She should learn to hate himnow, she knew. Very likely he found it amusing as well! Itmust be rather spicy work to a man loving power, to manage awild girl and her estate together--and with that Miss Kennedy'sresolution took a vehement turn. And _this_ was why Mr. Falkirkhad been so easy--and why--and why-- At which point thoughts andbreath got in an utter tangle, and she had to begin all overagain. 

He could not wait to be guardian till she gave himpermission. --'Well for him!' said Miss Hazel, with a gesture ofher head. And then if she married anybody else without hisleave--and she would have to ask his leave!--Would she?--notquite, the girl thought to herself. Neither in great thingsnor in small would he be troubled _much_ in that way. Verygenerous of him to declare his purpose--of--of-- And heresuddenly thoughts flew off to Gyda's soft-spoken title forher, --words that bore yet their freight of shame and pleasure, for Hazel's head went down. She brought herself back sharply. 

_Very_ nice of him to tell other people what he meant to do!--ofcourse _her_ purposes in that line were of small moment, if shehad any. Things would run in this style now, she supposed:'Thank you, Mr. May, --I will ask Mr. Falkirk; and if heapproves I will ask Mr. Rollo--if I can find him, for he isgenerally away. And if _he_ says yes, I can go. '

No visitors saw her that day;--and Mr. Falkirk had hisbreakfast alone, watched over by Mrs. Bywank. 'Miss Wych had aheadache, '--which was extremely likely, as she had cried allnight. But after that the world of Chickaree went on as usual, to all outward appearance. 

Some weeks had passed over since the ride to Morton Hollow, when one afternoon Rollo's bay again walked up to the sideentrance of the Chickaree house. The few days of his intendedabsence had been lengthened out by the wearisome delays ofbusiness, so that that morning had seen the young gentlemanbut just home. In the course of a private interview with Dr. Maryland he had received some disagreeable information. 

'By the way, Dane, ' said Dr. Maryland relunctantly, 'I havebad news for you. '

'What is it, sir?'

'At least it is not good. How bad it may be I can't tell. Hazel has heard all about--what she shouldn't have heard!--theterms of the will and the whole story. '

A flash of very disagreeable surprise crossed the young man'sface. He was silent. 

'It seems Prudentia told her, ' Dr. Maryland went on, uneasily. 'I don't understand how she could be so thoughtless; but so itis. Hazel was very much excited by what she heard. '

'Naturally! You saw her?'

'For a minute. She came to me to know if it was true; but shedid not stay after that. '

No remark from the opposite party. 

'I'm very sorry about it, ' continued the old gentleman. 'I'mafraid--I was afraid, it might make you trouble, Dane. Prudentia is much to blame. '

Dane answered nothing. He wrung his late guardian's hand byway of acknowledging his sympathy, and left the study. 

'I had almost caught my bird!' was his thought, prettybitterly realized, --'and this woman has broken my snares. Itisn't the first time!'

He saw, he thought he saw, the whole character and extent ofthe mischief that had been done. He knew Wych Hazel; he couldguess at the bound of revulsion her spirit would make atseveral points in the narrative that had been told her. Heknew Prudentia; he could fancy that the details lost nothingin the giving. 

But the steadiness, not of feeling, but of nerves andjudgment, which was characteristic of him, kept his eyesightclear even now. He did not fall into Wych Hazel's confusion ofthoughts and notions; nor did his hunter's instincts fail him. His game was removed to a distance; _that_ he saw; it might be along distance, --and how much patient skill might be called forbefore it would be within his grasp again it was impossible toguess. There were odds of another hunter catching up thecoveted quarry; other snares might be set, of a lesslegitimate nature; other weapons called into play than hisown. There are some natures who do not know how to fail, andwho never do fail in what they set themselves to accomplish. In spite of disadvantages, Rollo had very much in his favour;and this peculiar constitution of mind, among other things. 

He would go up to Chickaree that same day. Before presentinghimself there, he and the bay horse travelled, I am afraid tosay how many miles in two hours. But nerves and senses were intheir usual condition of excellent soundness, and his temperin its usual poise, when he turned in at the gate ofChickaree, and mounted the hill. 

Before he quite reached the house, however, Mr. Rollo, beingquick of eye, caught a signal from among the trees downtowards the garden: a woman's hand raised in the fashion of aSunday school scholar asking leave to speak. Drawing bridle, to make sure that he saw right, or to find what this strangesign might mean, he presently saw little Phoebe of the mill, who, leaving her basket of muslins on the grass, now camerunning towards him. Phoebe's regard for Mr. Rollo, it may besaid, was second only to her devotion to her mistress. 

'I hope I'm not taking too much of a liberty, sir, ' she began, all out of breath with eagerness and running, 'but I said tomyself maybe Mr. Rollo would know what to do. For I'm sureMiss Hazel must be very sick, --and nobody takes a bit ofnotice. '

The inner pang with which this advice was received did not atall appear. Rider and horse were motionless, and the answerwas a grave--

'Why do you think so, Phoebe?'

'May I tell you all about it, sir?' said the girl, earnestly. Then without waiting for permission--'I never have told aliving soul, Mr. Rollo; for Mrs. Bywank she shuts me up with:"Do your work Phoebe, and don't talk;" and so I have, sir, always. It was one day after a ride--for she's had thebeautifullest horse, sir!--since you've been away, I guess; andshe'd ride every morning before breakfast, and come homelooking--Well I can't begin to tell!' said Phoebe, enthusiastically. 'But Reo said it was the flush of themorning going through his gate. '

The bay lifted up one foot and struck it impatiently on theground. His rider sat still, waiting upon Phoebe's words. Thereins were on the horse's neck, but the creature probably hadmade up his mind that any volunteer extra steps wereunnecessary under his new master, for he stood like a rock, that one foot excepted. 

'So, ' said Phoebe, taking up her broken thread, 'of courseJeannie Deans (that's the horse, Mr. Rollo) began to love her, might and main, right off--as everybody does; but even Mr. Lewis allowed he never saw a horse learn so quick. And itisn't often he allows anything, ' said Phoebe, with theslightest toss of her head. 'It wasn't for sugar, --sometimesMiss Hazel would give her a lump, but generally not; onlyshe'd pat her and talk to her, and look in her face, and thenJeannie'd look right at her, and begin to follow round if MissHazel just held out her hand. Some days she'd come all the wayup from the lodge just so, --not holding the bridle nornothing, --the prettiest sight you ever saw, sir! She didn'tcall her Jeannie, either, --it was some short, queer name that Inever did quite hear, she'd say it so softly. Most like abird's talk, of anything. ' Phoebe paused, smiling at theremembrance. 

It was well her hearer's nerves were in training. He waited, knowing that he should best get the whole by allowing the yarnto reel off unbroken; so now he only gave utterance to anattentive 'But what next, Phoebe?'

'O, sir, ' said the girl, suddenly sober again, 'one day--Ididn't know where she'd been, Miss Hazel, I mean, --but it wasafternoon, and she was coming home. And I was out under thetrees like to-day, taking in. And Miss Hazel stopped and sentLewis back, and came on alone to the steps, sir, --came like thewind!--and jumped off. And then she off with her glove--and youknow what Miss Hazel's hand is, sir, --and the little whitething began to fondle Jeannie Deans. Patting her neck, andstroking her face, and combing out her mane, and fingering herears; and Jeannie she held her head down, and sideways, as ifshe meant to give all the help _she_ could. And I was lookingon, just among the bushes like, when all in a minute MissHazel put both her arms right round the horse's neck and laidher head close down--and there she stood. '--Phoebe paused totake breath. 

'Not ill _then_, Phoebe?' said her hearer, in a very low tone. 

'O, I don't know, sir!' answered Phoebe, her honest eyes allin a flush. 'I don't know! For just as I ran up to see, Mr. Lewis he came back; and the minute Miss Hazel heard, she wasoff and away up the steps and into he house, and didn't evenwait to see if Lewis had found her handkerchief. But, Mr. Rollo, she's never been to ride since that day; not once. Andsometimes when she looks round sudden, her eyes'll shine tillthey frighten you!' And Phoebe wiped her own eyes with thecorner of her apron, and looked up for aid and comfort. 

'But Phoebe, '-- and Collingwood here made an impatient movementrather suddenly and had to be brought back to his business--'what is the evidence of the _illness_ you speak about?'

'Nothing else ever kept her from riding, Mr. Rollo. And shedon't eat--not three bits, sometimes, --only she 'lucinates Mr. Falkirk so that he don't know. And when there's lots and lotsof grand company just gone, Miss Hazel will come walking upstairs 'most like one step at a time. There's no flying up anddown in the house now, sir. And if you could only once see hereyes, Mr. Rollo! And you know how she used to sing every fiveminutes?--well, she don't do _that_, ' said Phoebe, with closingemphasis. 

'Thank you, Phoebe, ' said the gentleman at last, 'I am verymuch obliged to you. I will see what is best to be done. ' Andwith a kind nod to the girl he left her. But Collingwoodwalked every step of the way from there to the door of thehouse. Dingee answered the first summons, also showing histeeth with pleasure at sight of Mr. Rollo; and ushering himin, darted away on his errand. But Dingee presently returned, more thoroughly taken aback than often befel him. 

'Can't make it out, 'xactly, sir, ' he said, hesitating. 'Factis, it's drefful hard work to 'member messages, --sight easiermade 'em up! But Missee Hazel say, Mas Rollo--_thought_ she say--please 'scuse her dis afternoon. 'Pears like dat ar' headachedone come back, ' said Dingee, in his bewilderment. 'He been onhand, powerful!'

'I daresay you delivered the message quite right, Dingee, 'said the gentleman, not at all surprised at its tenor; andgiving the boy something to justify the showing of his ivoriesagain, he went away And the bay walked every step of the roaddown the hill through the woods to the gates of Chickaree; butfrom there he went in a long straight gallop home. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

CAPTAIN LANCASTER'S TEAM. 

It was between eight and nine o'clock one evening, two orthree days later, when Mr. Rollo was informed that some onewanted to speak to him. It was Reo Hartshorne. 

'Very glad to see you home, sir, ' said Reo earnestly; he was aman of few words. 'I beg pardon--but are you going to theGovernor's to-night, Mr. Rollo?'

'Powder? No. '

'I have just come from taking Miss Wych, ' said Reo, 'and metLewis, and heard you were home. Mr. Rollo, --do you know that afour-in-hand party goes from Governor Powder's to-night at teno'clock?'

'I have but lately got home, Reo, and so have not heard quiteall the news. But I have nothing to do with the four-in-handclub. '

'Miss Wych bade me come for her at eleven, ' said Reo, goingstraight to his point. 'And as she went in, Mr. Nightingale'sman laughed and said I'd better not lose my time. Eleven to-morrow would be bearer the mark. And I might have told Mr. Falkirk, sir, --but you were nearer by, and--a trifle quicker. SoI came. They're to stop at Greenbush for supper. And if someof those young men come out as fit to drive as they went in, it'll be something they never did before. '

'You came back this way, --with the carriage?'

'Yes, Mr. Rollo. '

'How do the horses go?'

'First-rate, sir. Want nothing but using. '

'Who is with you? Dingee or Lewis?'

'Lewis. '

'You are not fit to be up all night, Reo. I will take Lewis, and drop you at Chickaree as we pass. '

'Fit to do anything for my little lady, Mr. Rollo. And I knowthe horses. '

'Very well. Go into the kitchen and get some refreshment. TellLewis Miss Maryland and I are going out in the carriage, andwe will leave him at Chickaree. I will be ready in fifteenminutes. '

And in fifteen minutes Primrose had been apprized of theservice required of her, was ready, and the party set out. 

To Greenbush, round by Chickaree, was a drive of twenty milesor more; from Valley Garden it was something less. The roadwas quiet enough at that hour, winding through a level part ofthe country, lying white and still in the unclouded moonlight;and Greenbush was reached in due time. The place was littlemore now than one of those old taverns to be found on anystage route, with its settlement of out-buildings; but thepresent keeper of the house was an adept, and his suppers werefamous. The tavern, however, unlike most of its class, stoodin a patch of rather thick woodland, and boasted a highsurrounding fence and great gates at either entrance, havingbeen once a grand mansion. House and gateways were all alightnow, and the winding approach through the trees was hung withswinging lamps. But the entrances were guarded. 

'No carriage admitted till the four-in-hands come in!' saidthe men on duty. 

On foot, however, privately and humbly, the gentleman and ladywere allowed entrance. Rollo secured a comfortable room, withsome difficulty, and also ordered and obtained supper, notwithout scruples and grumbles, all the strength of the housebeing enlisted in the interests of the coming guests;nevertheless money will do everything; and coffee, coldchicken and bread and butter were served in tolerable style. It availed only for outward circumstances of comfort, for poorRosy was extremely nervous and troubled in mind; very anxiousfor Rollo, very discomfited on account of Wych Hazel, verydoubtful of the part she herself was to play. Rollo himselfwas--the red squirrel. 

Leaving Rosy with a kind admonition not to worry herself, andto take some bread and chicken, he went out again to see thatthe carriage was drawn up properly out of the way and Reo'srefreshment cared for; and then he took post himself in theshadow of a clump of firs to wait for the expected revellers. 

'Pity the lady hadn't stayed too, sir, ' said one of the men. 'They'll be along just now. There's more of 'em down thancommon, this year, they tell me, and it'll be a show. '

Other people thought so too, evidently, for vehicles ofvarious sorts, and people to match, began to gather along theroad, till all the space about the entrance-way was welllined. An expectant, rather noisy, crowd, a good deal in theinterests of horseflesh but with a certain portion also ofinterest in gay men and women. 

'There they come!'--cried a boy high up in one of the trees;but at first it was only a quiet coach with two horses, Governor Powder's own, and at once admitted. Then there wasanother pause--and at last down came the four-in-hands, withflashing lamps, and harness that glittered all over in themoonlight, and the fine in-time harmony of the horses' hoof-beats. There was singing too, from some of the turn-outs, --glees and choruses came in a faint wild mingling that rose andfell and changed with the changes of the road. 

'Captain Lancaster's ahead!' said one of the men. 

'No--it's Richard May. '

'See for yourself, then, ' said the other, as the first superbfour-in-hand came up; the horses shining almost like their ownharness, the drag in the newest style of finish, and withevery seat full. A young officer in undress uniform was on thebox, and by his side sat Wych Hazel. There was time for but alook as the drag swept round the turn--just time to see who itwas, and that she wore no bonnet, but instead a sort ofSpanish drapery of black lace, and that his horses gaveCaptain Lancaster so little concern that Miss Kennedy hadnearly all his attention, --then the vision was gone. Notsinging, these two, but the spectators heard her sweet laugh. Flashing past, followed by another and another though not allof equal style. The looker-on in the shade of the fir treesjust noticed that Kitty Fisher drove the second, --just caughtother familiar voices as they flew by. 

There is no doubt but Miss Kennedy's younger guardian feltthere was a hard task upon him that night. Out of all theglamour and glitter, the brilliance and beauty of such anentertainment, he must be the one to take her, and substitutean ignominious quiet progress home in her own carriage for thefascination and excitement of Captain Lancaster's driving, andCaptain Lancaster's--and many others'--homage. And, worse yet, the authority which he guessed well enough the little ladyrebelled against more than against any other point in thearrangement that had displeased her, must here find in itsexercise. However, well as he knew the bad move it was for hisown game, Mr. Rollo was not a man to shirk difficult tasks. Neither was he so unpractised a hunter as to conclude that anymove that _must_ be made, is a bad move. He knew better. So, though he looked grave certainly as he walked back to thehouse, he walked alertly, like a man ready for business. 

He was not in a hurry. He gave time to the first confusion tosubside, and for people to get quiet in their places; in sofar, that is, as comparative quiet might be predicated of anypoint of that gay evening. Evening indeed! The moon was ridinghigh in the zenith; it was between twelve and one o'clock. Rollo walked the floor, and Primrose, miserable and anxious, looked at him, and dared not say one word. Would Hazel breakfriendship with her forever? and kindness with Rollo? And howcould Dane dare as he dared!

When supper was just about to be served, one of the attendantsentered the room where the party was gathered, asking if MissKennedy was there. A lady and gentleman wanted to see MissKennedy. The message in due course of time worked round to theyoung lady. 

'Have you got any friends in these parts?' said JosephinePowder laughing. It was the way of the entertainment; nothingwas said without laughing. 

'Must you go?' said Stuart Nightingale. 

'Another trick of Kitty Fisher's, ' said Wych Hazel. 'Thatmysterious "lady and gentleman" again! You know they sent mycarriage away once. O yes, I will go and see what mischief ison foot, and be back in a minute. '

The room where Rollo and Prim were waiting was down at one endof the hall; and, dimly lighted as it was, in comparison withthe rest of the house, it seemed almost dark. They could seeher come down the hall, three or four gentlemen following; andshe sending them back with laughing words and glances thrownover her shoulder. 

'Now stop just where you are, ' she said, turning round. 'I gointo the darkness alone, or the charm will be broken. '

And on she came with her airy tread, and was well in the roombefore she saw anybody, and a servant had shut the door. Thenthe change on her face was pitiful to see. In the excitementof the drive and other things that night, she had evidentlyforgotten for the time her new trouble. It came back now onthe instant, and for one quick moment she put up her hand toher forehead as if with sudden pain. Then crossed both handsupon her breast, and looked down, and stood still. 

Rollo quitted the room. Primrose came to Wych Hazel's side andthrew her arms around her. 

'It's only I, dear Hazel, ' she said in tones of mingledtrouble and tenderness. 

Miss Kennedy disengaged herself, not roughly but decidedly, holding Primrose off, and looking at her. 

'What is the matter?' she said. 'Is Mr. Falkirk ill?'

'No, dear. '

'Who then?' said Wych Hazel. 'Prim, never kill people bydegrees. '

'Nobody's ill--nobody! There is nothing the matter withanybody, Hazel--except you. I've come to take care of you, dear. '

'Did you?' said the girl. 'I think you want some one to takecare of you, by your looks. But I am rather too busy just nowto read essays on sentiment, --that can wait. ' She moved towardsthe door; but Primrose made a spring and caught her. 

'Wait!--Hazel, you haven't heard what I wanted to say to you. Don't be angry with me! O dear Hazel, do you know what sort oftimes these four-in-hand people make down here?'

'I intend to find out. '

'But they are not fit for you, Hazel, indeed: it is not a fitplace for you to be. Hazel, they are often tipsy when theydrive home. Papa wouldn't let me be in such a place and ridewith them, for anything. How come you to be here?'

Hazel freed herself again with impatient haste. 

'Let go of me!' she said. 'The man who drives _me_ home will besober. I will not hear any more. '

'Listen, Hazel, listen!' cried Prim, clinging to her. 'O donot be angry with me! But you ought not be here; and Duke willnot let you stay, dear. We have brought the carriage to takeyou home. '

Prim never could tell afterwards what sort of a look or whatsort of a sound answered that; what she did know was that WychHazel was at the door and had it open in her hand. Prim'sgentleness, however, on this occasion was no bar to energeticaction; with another spring _she_ was at the door and had takenit from Wych Hazel's hand, had shut it, and set her backagainst it; all too suddenly and determinately to leave chancefor prevention. 

'Hazel, dear, listen to me. You ought not be here, and Dukewill not let you. He has come to take you home, and he broughtme with him because he thought it would be nicer for you. Andhe thought you would rather see me than him; but if you won'tlisten to me, I must call him. He will not let you stay, Hazel, and Duke always is right. But he thought you would likebetter to go quietly off with me than to have any fuss made, and all these people knowing about it and everybody talking. Wouldn't it be nicer to go quietly without any one knowing whyyou go?'

It was indescribable the way in which Miss Kennedy repeatedthe word 'nice!' Then she spoke collectedly. 

'Prim, I do not want to call in any of my friends--but Ideclare I will, if you do not move away!'

'Must I call Duke?' said Prim, despairingly keeping her place. 

'If you want him'--said Miss Kennedy, turning now towards thebell. As the young lady faced about again, after pulling thebell rope, she was confronted by her unwelcome guardian, justbefore her. 

It is almost proverbially known that the meeting of contrastsis apt to have a powerful influence on one side or the other;unless indeed the opposing forces are, what rarely happens, ofequal weight. What met Wych Hazel as she looked at him waspower--not of physical strength; the power of high breeding, which is imposing as well as graceful; and also the power of aperfectly unmoved self-possession. While there was at the sametime a winsome, gentle look, that she could hardly see in heragitation, the spirit of which she could partly feel in thevoice that spoke to her. Neither cloud nor frown nordiscomposure of any sort was in it. He bowed, and then heldout his hand. 

'Are you angry with me?' he said. 'With me, if anybody. NotPrim. '

In the vagaries of human nature all things are possible. Andit is undoubted that in the first flash of eyes which greetedMr. Rollo there was mingled a certain gleam of fun. Whetherthe prospect of a tilt had its excitements--whether she wascurious to see how he would carry his new office, --there itwas. But then the eye shadows grew deep and dark. She drewback a little, not giving her hand; making instead a somewhatformal courtesy. 

'I was called here, it seems, to await your commands, Mr. Rollo. May I have them, if they are ready?'

'They are not ready, ' he answered, in a very low tone. 'LetMiss Wych Hazel give commands to herself, --and be loyal andtrue in her obedience to them. '

'I have given myself a good many since I have been in thisroom, ' said the girl, proudly. 'If I had not I should not behere now. '

'Will you sit down?'

'Thank you--no. Unless we are to spend the rest of the night inquiet conversation. '

'Then we will make the conversation short. Miss Hazel, thecompany and the occasion you came to grace to-night areunworthy of the honour. '

He paused for a reply, but, as none came, he went on:

'You do not know it now, but in the mean time I know it; and Imust act upon my knowledge. I have come to take you home. Cannot you trust me, that I would not--for much--do anything sodispleasing to you, without good reason?'

'You men are so fond of being "trusted!" ' she said--quietly, though there was some bitterness in the tone--'it is almost awonder it never occurs to you that a woman might like it too!I know every one of the carriage party with whom I came. Andthat I did not ask Mr. Falkirk's leave before I left home wasonly because I did not know that I should need it. ' But withthat came a quick painful blush, as suddenly remembering otherleave that must now be asked. 

'I believe you may be trusted thoroughly, so far as yourknowledge goes, ' he answered, gravely. Then waited a momentand went on. 

'You have had no supper. Will you take some refreshment beforewe set out upon our return journey?'

She stood, leaning against the wall, not looking at anythingbut the floor--and not seeing that;--as still as if she had notheard him. Thinking--what was she thinking?--Then suddenly stoodup and answered. 

'I can but obey. May I ask you to wait five minutes?--Standaway, Prim, and let me pass. '

But he stayed her. 

'It is better not to set people's tongues at work. I have senta message to the Miss Powders, to the effect that Miss Kennedyhad been suddenly summoned home, and making your excuses. Asfrom yourself. No name but yours appeared. '

If there was any one thing he had done which tried her almostunbearably, it was that! There was a sort of quiet despair inthe way she turned from him and the door together, and tookthe chair she had refused, and sat waiting. Rollo brought hersilently a cup of coffee and a plate with something to eat, but both were refused. 

'Are you ready, Prim?'

Primrose nervously put on her bonnet, which she had withnervous unrest taken off; and Rollo offered his arm to WychHazel. 

'Let me go by myself, ' she said--again not roughly, but as ifshe could not help it. 'I am not going to run away. '

'In that case it is certainly not the arm of a jailor, ' saidhe, stooping down by her and smiling. 

But the words, or the look, or something about them, verynearly got the better of Wych Hazel's defences, and her eyesflushed with tears. 

'No--no, ' she said under her breath. 'I will follow. Go on. '

'Certainly not _me_, ' he answered. 'Go you with Prim, and I willfollow. '

One before and one behind!--thought the girl to herself, comparing the manner of her entrance. She went on, not withPrim, but swiftly ahead of her, and put herself in thecarriage, as she had brought herself out of the house. Primfollowed. Rollo mounted the box and took the reins, and, having fresh horses from the inn, they drove off at a smartpace. And Hazel, laying one hand on the sill of the openwindow, leaned her head against the frame, and so, wrapped inher black lace, sat looking out, with eyes that never seemedto waver. Into the white moonshine, --which soon would give waybefore the twilight 'which should be dawn and a to-morrow. '

For a long time Primrose bore this, thinking hard too on herpart. For she had much to think of, in connection with bothher companions. She was hurt for Rollo; she was grieved forWych Hazel; was there anything personal and private to herselfin her vexation at the needlessness of the trouble which wasaffecting them? If there were, Primrose did not look at itmuch. But it seemed very strange in her eyes that any oneshould rebel against what was, to her, the honey sweetness ofDane's authority. Strange that anything he disliked, should beliked by anybody that had the happiness of his care. Andstrange beyond strangeness, that this girl should slight suchwords and looks as he bestowed upon her. Primrose knew howdeep the meaning of them was; she knew how great the grace ofthem was; could it be possible Wych Hazel did not know? Onesuch word and look would have made her happy for days; upon afew of them she could have lived a year. So it seemed to her. She did not wish that they were hers; she did not repine thatthey were another's; she only thought these things. But therewere other thoughts that came up, as a sigh dismissed theforegoing. 

'Hazel!--' she ventured gently, when half of the way was done. 

Hazel's thoughts had been so far away that she started. 

'What?' she said hastily. 

'May I talk to you, just a little bit?'

'O yes, --certainly. Anybody may do anything to me. ' But shekept her position unchanged. 'I am listening, Prim. '

'Hazel, dear, are you quite sure you are doing right?'

'About what?'

'About-- Please don't take it ill of me, but it troubles me, Hazel. About this sort of life you are leading. '

'This sort of life?' Hazel repeated, thinking over some of thedays last past. 'Much you know about it!'

'I do not suppose I do. I cannot know much about it, ' saidPrimrose meekly. 'All _my_ way of life has been so different. But do you think, Hazel, really, that there is not somethingbetter to do with one's self than what all these gay peopledo?'

'I think you are a great deal better than I am--if that willcontent you. '

'Why should it content me?' said Primrose, laughing a little. 'I do not see anything pleasant in it, even supposing it weretrue. '

'There is some use in training you, ' Hazel went on; 'but noamount of pruning would ever bring me into shape. ' And withthat, somehow, there came up the thought of a little sketch, wherein her hat swung gayly from the top of a rough hazelbush; and with the thought a pain so keen, that for the momenther head went down upon her hands on the window-sill. 

Primrose was silent a few moments, not knowing just how tospeak. 

'But Hazel, ' she began, slowly--'all these gay people you areso much with, they live just for the pleasure of the minute;and when the pleasure of the minute is over, what remains? Icannot bear to have you forget that, and become like them. '

'Like them?' said Hazel. 'Am I growing like Kitty Fisher?'

'No, no, no!' cried Primrose. 'You are not a bit like her, nota bit. I do not mean that; but I mean, dear, --aren't you justliving for the moment's pleasure, and forgetting somethingbetter?'

'Forgetting a good many things, you think. '

'Aren't you, Hazel? And I cannot bear to have you. '

'What am I to remember?' said the girl in a sort of dreamytone, with her thoughts on the wing. 

'Remember that you have something to do with your life andwith yourself, Hazel; something truly noble and happy andworth while. I am sure dancing-parties are not enough to liveon. Are they?'

'No. '

Perhaps Primrose thought she had said enough; perhaps she didnot know how to choose further words to hit the girl's mood. She was patiently silent. Suddenly Hazel sat up and turnedtowards her. 

'You poor little Prim!' she said, laying gentle hands on hershoulders and a kiss on each cheek, --'whirled off from yourgreen leaves on a midnight chase after witches! This was oneof Mr. Rollo's few mistakes: he should have come alone. '

'Should he?' said Primrose, wondering. 'But it wouldn't havebeen so good for you, dear, would it?'

'Prim'--somewhat irrelevantly--'did you ever have a thorn inyour finger?'

'What do you mean?' Primrose answered in just bewilderment. 

'Well I have two in mine. ' And Miss Kennedy went back to thewindow and her world of moonlight. She did not wonder that theIndians reckoned their time by 'moons;' she was beginning tocheck off her own existence in the same way. In one moon shehad walked home from Merricksdale, in another driven back fromMrs. Seaton's; and now in this--But then her head went downupon the window-sill once more, nor was lifted again until thecarriage was before the steps of Chickaree. 

'Dane, ' said Primrose, as the two were parting in the duskyhall at home, 'she will never get over this. Never, never, never!'

He kissed her, laughing, and giving her hand a warm grasp. 

'You are mistaken, ' he said. 'She is a more sensible womanthan you giver her credit for. '

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

HITS AT CROQUET. 

The second day after the four-in-hand club affair, thefollowing note was brought to Miss Hazel:

'Will you ride with me this afternoon?'M. O. R. '

And perhaps five words have seldom taken longer to write thanthese which he received by return messenger:

'Not to-day. Please excuse me. 'Wych Hazel. '

It happened that invitations were out for a croquet party atChickaree; and the day of the party was appointed the thirdsucceeding these events. Thither of course al the best of theneighbourhood were invited. 

The house at Chickaree stood high on a hill; neverthelessimmediately about the house there was lawn-room enough andsmooth greensward for the purposes of the play. The very fineold trees which bordered and overshadowed it lent beauty anddignity to the little green; and the long, low, grey house, with some of its windows open to the verandah, and theverandah itself extending the whole length of the building, with cane garden-chairs and Indian settees hospitably planted, made a cheery, comfortable background. September was yetyoung, and the weather abundantly warm; the sort of weatherwhen everybody wants to be out of doors. No house in thecountry could show a prettier croquet-green than Chickareethat afternoon. 

Mr. Falkirk had mounted the hill in advance of other comers, and stood surveying the prospect generally from the verandah. 

'Who is to be here, Miss Hazel? I am like a bear newly comeout of his winter-quarters--only that my seclusion has been inthe other season of the year. '

'Pray let the resemblance go no further, sir! Who is to behere?' said Miss Kennedy, drawing on her dainty gloves, --'allthe available people, I suppose. Unless they change theirminds. '

'Have the goodness to enlighten me. _Available people_--availablefor what?'

'Croquet--and flirting. '

'If you please-- I understand, I believe, the first term; itmeans, to stand on the green and roll balls about among eachother's feet; but what is comprehended in "flirting"?'

'Standing in the air and rolling balls there, ' said MissKennedy. 

'Ah! Don't people get hit occasionally?'

'Very likely. But they do not tell. '

'Ah! My dear, has anybody hit you?'

'Thank you, sir, --I generally keep on the ground. '

Mr. Falkirk suspended his questions for the space of fiveminutes. 

'I have not heard of your taking any rides lately, ' he beganagain. 

'No, sir. '

'How comes that?'

'It comes by my refusing to go. '

'Why, my dear?' said her guardian, looking her innocently inthe face. 

'Aren't you glad, sir?--How do you do, Mr. Kingsland? Will yoube kind enough to explain to Mr. Falkirk the last code offlirtation? while I go and give an order?'

'It is the only thing in which Miss Kennedy is notunsurpassed, --to make my definition short, ' said the gentleman, taking a chair. 'I think she will never learn. '

Primrose Maryland was the immediate next arrival; and she satdown on the other side of Mr. Falkirk, looking as innocent asher name. Mr. Falkirk had always a particular favour forPrimrose. 

'Did you come alone, my dear?' he incautiously asked; for Mr. Kingsland was at his other elbow. And Prim knew no better thanto answer according to fact. 

'Where is Rollo?'

'I don't know, sir. I suppose he is at home. '

'Doubtless thinking one guardian may suffice--as it is a merecroquet party, ' said Mr. Kingsland smoothly, but with a covertglance of his eye at Mr. Falkirk. Both Primrose and Mr. Falkirk glanced at him in return, but his words got no otherrecognition, for people began to come upon the scene. And thescene speedily became gay; everybody arriving by the sideentrance and passing through the broad hall to the front ofthe house. Wych Hazel, returned from her errand, came nowslowly through the hall herself with the last arrival. 

'I feared you were ill with fatigue, ' said a pleasant man'svoice. 'Three times I have called to inquire, and three timesgone away in despair. '

'I was very tired. '

'But what was the matter?' said the gentleman, pausing in thedoorway. 'Some call of sudden illness? a demand upon yoursympathies?'

'Nothing of the kind. '

'How then?' said Captain Lancaster, with an appearance ofgreat interest. 'One does not lose a pleasure--and such apleasure--without at least begging to know why. If it ispermitted. We began to think that the witches must have gothold of you in that dark room. '

'One did, ' said the girl, so gravely that Captain Lancasterwas posed. She knew perfectly well what ears were listening;but there was something in her nature which always disdainedto creep out of a difficulty; so she stood still, and answeredas he had spoken, aloud. 

'O, Miss Kennedy, ' cried Molly Seaton, 'that's a fib. Not areal witch?'

'Pretty genuine, I think, ' said Hazel, with her half laugh. 

Now there is no way in the world to puzzle people like tellingthem the truth. The gentleman and the lady were puzzled. Stuart Nightingale and half a dozen more came up at theinstant; and the question of the game to be played, for thetime scattered all other questions. 

For a while now the little green at Chickaree was a prettysight. Dotted with a moving crowd of figures, in gay-coloureddresses, moving in graceful lines or standing in prettyattitudes; the play, the shifting of places, the cries and thelaughter, all made a flashing, changing picture, full of lifeand full of picturesque prettiness. The interests of the gamewere at first absorbing. When a long match had been played, however, and there was a pause for refreshments, there wasalso a chance for rolling balls in the more airy manner WychHazel had indicated. 

'What was the matter the other night?' Stuart Nightingaledemanded softly, as he brought the little lady of the house anice. 

'I could not stay. '

'Summoned home by no disaster?'--

'It was a sort of disaster to me to be obliged to go, ' saidWych Hazel, 'but I found neither earthquake nor volcano athome. '

'Who came for you, Hazel?' said Phinny Powder, pushing intothe group which was forming. 'I said it was downright wickedto let you go off so. How did we know but that somethingdreadful had got hold of you? I thought they ought all of themto go in a body and knock the doors down and find out. Butafter your message they wouldn't. Who _did_ come for you, Hazel?'

'Who did?' said Hazel. 'Do you think it could have been thesame parties who once sent away my carriage when I wanted it?'

'No, ' said Phinny; 'I know it wasn't. But who _did_ come foryou, Hazel? Nobody knew where you were. And what made you go, if there was no earthquake at home, as you said?'

'Were you _made_ to go, really?' asked Mme. Lasalle, slyly. 'HasJosephine hit the mark with a stray arrow?'

'O, of course I was made to go, --or I shouldn't have gone, 'said Wych Hazel lightly. 'My own carriage came for me, Josephine, and I came home in it. Do you feel any better?'

'No, I don't!' said that young lady boldly, while others whowere silent used their eyes. '_You_ didn't order it, and I justwant to know who did. O, Hazel, I want to ask you--' But shelowered her voice and glanced round her suspiciously. 

'Is it safe? Where is that old Mr. ----? do you see him anywhere?He has eyes, and I suppose he has ears. Hush! I guess it'ssafe. Hazel, my dear, _have_ you got two guardians, you poorcreature?'

'Have you only just found that out?' said Hazel, drawing alittle back from the whisper and answering aloud. 'Prim, whatwill you have? Mr. May, please bring another ice for MissMaryland. '

'Well, I've guessed it all summer, ' said Kitty Fisher, puttingher word in now. 'I always knew that when Miss Kennedy turnedround, the Duke turned too, to see what she was looking at. '

If truth be no slander, it is sometimes full as hard to bear. Wych Hazel eat her own ice for the next two minutes andwondered what it was. 

'Hazel, my dear, you had need to be a saint!' Mme. Lasallewhispered. 'It is--absolutely--outrageous; something not to beborne!'

'But the fun of it is, ' broke in Kitty again, 'that we alltook it for granted it was mere lover-like devotion! And now, behold, c'est tout au contraire!'

Since the day of the ride it had been war to the knife withKitty Fisher. 

'Kitty! Kitty!' said Mr. Kingsland in soft deprecation. 

'My dear, ' Mme. Lasalle went on mockingly, 'perhaps he wouldnot approve of your eating so much ice. Hadn't you better takecare?'

'Must we ask him about everything now, before we can haveyou?' cried Josephine, in great indignation, quite unfeigned, though possibly springing from a double root. 'O, was it _he_came for you to Greenbush?'

But with that Hazel roused herself. 

'You had better ask him anything you want answered, ' she said. 'I think he has quite a genius that way. '

'What way? O, you know, friends, perhaps, _she likes it_. Whatway, Hazel?'

'Does he speak soft when he gives his orders?' said KittyFisher. 'Or does he use his ordinary tone?'

'And oh, Miss Kennedy, ' said little Molly Seaton, 'isn't it_awfully_ nice to have such a handsome man tell you what to do?'

Now Hazel had been at her wits' end, feeling as if there was atrap for her, whatever she said or did not say. Pain andnervousness and almost fright had kept her still. But Molly'squestion brought things to such a climax, that she burst intoan uncontrollable little laugh, and so answered everybody atonce in the best manner possible. The sound of her laughbrought back the gentlemen too, --roaming off after their ownices, --and that would make a diversion. 

But it came up again and again. It was to some too tempting asubject of fun; for others it had a deeper interest; it couldnot be suffered to lie still. Wych Hazel's ears could hardlyget out of the sound of raillery, in all sorts of forms; fromthe soft insinuation of mischief in a mosquito's song, to thedownright attacks of Kitty Fisher's teeth and Phinny Powder'sclaws. The air was full of it at last, to Wych Hazel's fancy;even the gentlemen, when they dared not speak openly, seemedin manner or tone to be commiserating or laughing at her. 

'The diplomacy of truth!' said Mr. Kingsland to Mr. Falkirk, as Hazel passed near them with Mme. Lasalle. 'I must believein it as a fixed fact, --where it exists! I should judge, byrough estimate, that Miss Kennedy had been asked about fifty-five trying questions this day; and in not one case, to myknowledge, has her answer even clipped the truth. She is aninth wonder, --and from that on to the twenty-ninth! With allher innocence and ignorance--which would not comprehend nine-tenths of what might be said to her, I do not know the man whowould dare say one word which she should not hear!'--With whichsomewhat unusual expression of his feelings Mr. Kingsland tookhimself away, leaving Prim and Mr. Falkirk alone on theverandah. 

But it was a rather weary-faced young hostess that wrappedPrim up, after that, and the lips that kissed her were hot. 

Mr. Falkirk went down to his cottage and came back tobreakfast the next morning, without having broached to hisward several subjects which stirred his thoughts. Findinghimself in the fresh light of the new day, and in the securityof the early morning, seated opposite Miss Hazel at thebreakfast table, with the croquet confusion a thing of thepast, he opened his mind. 

'You had no wine yesterday, my dear, I observed. '

'No, sir. As I intended. '

'That is not according to custom--of other people. '

'It is my custom--henceforth, ' said Wych Hazel. 

'Are the reasons too abstruse for my comprehension?'

The girl looked up at him, her eyes kindling. 

'Mr. Falkirk, ' she said, 'if ever again a man gets a glass ofwine from my hand, or in my house, I shall deserve to livethat July night all over!'

Mr. Falkirk did not at all attempt to combat this conclusion. He ate his toast with an extremely thoughtful face for someminute or two. '

'Suppose, by and by, there should be two words to thatbargain?'

'Then there will be several more, sir, --that is all, ' she saidsteadily, though her face glowed. 

'You mean that you will fight for your position?'

'Inch by inch. Fight for it, and keep it. '

Mr. Falkirk's lips gave way a little, though with whatexpression it was impossible to determine. 

'To remark that your position will be remarked upon aspeculiar is, I am aware, to make a fruitless expenditure ofwords in your hearing, Miss Hazel. But it will not make muchdifference what you do, my dear. They will find the article, in its varieties, at every other house that is open to them. 'Mr. Falkirk was thinking probably of young men. 

'Well, sir--I, at least, will have no part in making any manunfit to speak to a woman. '

Mr. Falkirk ruminated again, and then broke out:

'Why did not Rollo come with Miss Maryland yesterday?'

'I presume, because he did not want to come, --but perhaps youhad better ask him, ' said Miss Hazel. 

'Why should I ask him?' returned her guardian, looking up ather. 'Has Mr. Rollo offended you, Miss Hazel?'

'I merely thought you wanted to know, sir. No, ' she answered, to his last question. 'He was invited--if that is what youmean. '

'I fancied, ' said Mr. Falkirk, looking puzzled, 'that in thegeneral buzz of tongues yesterday--which is fit to confuseanything with more brains than a mosquito--I heard variousbuzzings which seemed to have reference to him. Perhaps I waswrong. I did not mean to listen, but if a fly gets into yourear it is difficult not to know it. Was I right, or was Iwrong?'

'Right, I fancy, sir. Mr. Rollo's name is very often uponpeople's tongues. '

'What did they mean? What was it about?'

She hesitated a little. 

'I daresay your opinion was correct, Mr. Falkirk, as to themeaning as well as the buzz. It is hardly worth bringing upagain. '

If Mr. Falkirk had any roughness in his manner or in hiscomposition, he had also and certainly a very gentle side ofit for his ward. He looked at her again and dropped thesubject. But he had got another. He waited a little beforebringing it up. 

'Another thing I heard confused my ideas, Miss Hazel. You mustnot wonder at me; you know, a bear _just_ out of winter quartersmight well be astonished at coming into a garden full ofcrickets, and a little unable to distinguish one song fromanother. But it seemed to me that I heard something said--oralluded to--about your being unwillingly obliged to go homefrom somewhere. Can you give me any explanation?'

The pause was longer this time, the colour unsteady. Then sheput both hands up to her forehead, pushing back the dark ringsof hair with an impatient touch, and began, speaking low andrapidly, but straight to the point. 

'I was invited to a garden party at Mrs. Powder's, and after Igot there, found out that the invitation included a four-in-hand drive to Greenbush. And I went. And Mr. Rollo heard of mygoing, and followed me there with Primrose and Reo and thecarriage, and made me come back. '--She had gone on, throwing indetails, as if to prevent their being called for. Now thescarlet flush with which the last words were spoken fadedaway, and she was silent and rather pale. 

I suppose Mr. Falkirk had done his breakfast. If not, he lostthe last part of it. For as Wych Hazel stopped speaking herose from the table and began to take turns up and down theroom; scowling, it must be confessed, as if he would haverather liked an excuse to 'pitch into' his co-guardian. Hesaid nothing for some minutes, and it was not necessary; hiseyebrows were eloquent. 

'A four-in-hand party!' he said at last. 'Who got it up?'

'Some of the four-in-hand club. '

'Who are they, Miss Hazel?'

'Mr. May, Captain Lancaster, Dr. Singleton, '--Hazel named oversundry names that were unknown to Mr. Falkirk. 

'He's a bold man!' said Mr. Falkirk, probably not referring toany member of the club aforesaid. 'I wonder at his impudence. But, my dear!--a four-in-hand party, and Greenbush at night, --that was no sort of place for you to be! Do you know how theseparties come home, who go out so bravely?'

'I knew pretty well, sir, how my party would, ' said his ward. 

'No you didn't. How should you know anything about it? Theyoung mouse in the fable thought the cat was a very finegentleman. Con--found him!' said Mr. Falkirk, stopping short, 'how did he know? Was he at the garden party at theGovernor's?'

'No, sir. '

'Then how did he know where you were?'

'Mr. Rollo seems to be a man who gives close attention to hisduties, '--rather dryly. 

'I was the proper person to be applied to, ' muttered Mr. Falkirk. 'I should like to be informed how this came about?'

But Miss Hazel not giving--as indeed she was in no position togive--any light on this point, Mr. Falkirk walked a littlemore, and then brought up with:

'Don't go again, my dear. '

'I am not likely to go often anywhere, at such a risk!' saidWych Hazel, the tide beginning to overflow again. --'Poor littleme!' she broke out, in a tone that was sorrowful as well asimpatient, --'always in charge of two policemen! Why, you couldalmost keep a convict in order with that!' Then in a momentshe sprang up, and coming to her guardian's side laid her handon his arm. 'I beg your pardon, Mr. Falkirk! I did not mean itin any way to hurt you. '

'No, my dear, ' said her guardian, gently, laying his hand onhers. 'I am not hurt. I understand, as I ought, having seenyou twitch yourself out of leading-strings ever since you wereold enough to go. It is rather hard upon you. But how came itto your knowledge, Hazel?' And Mr. Falkirk looked grave. 

'It came--through somebody telling Mrs. Coles what was none ofher business, ' said the girl, with more energy than exactnessof wording. 

'Who did that?'

'I am sure I don't know, sir. She talks as if she had known italways. '

'Like enough. And she told you! The whole story, my dear?'added Mr. Falkirk, gently and softly. 

'I hope there is nothing more!' said Hazel, again donning herscarlet in hot taste. 

'Enough and too much!' muttered Mr. Falkirk. 'Poor child! Sothe old guardian is better than the young one, my dear?'

'It used to be supposed, ' said the girl, dancing off out ofthe room, 'that twice one is two. But I am inclined to thinkthat twice one is six!'--Which was all the satisfaction Mr. Falkirk got. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

FRIENDLY TONGUES. 

Yes, it was very hard for her; much harder than any one knewbut herself. The joke was too striking to be passed by, evenin the case of an ordinary person; but when it was MissKennedy, --heiress, beauty, and queen of favour, --all tonguestook it up. She could go nowhere, wear nothing, do nothing, without meeting that one subject face to face. Many thingsbrought it forward. Kitty Fisher of course had exasperation inher heart; but there were other (supposably) gentle breastswhere even less lovely feelings, of shorter names, foundlodgment. Hazel was condoled with, laughed at, twitted, byturns; until even Mr. Rollo's name in the distance made hershrink. Mrs. Coles had not (apparently) made known theconditions upon which he had assumed his office; but WychHazel was in daily terror lest she would; and as people oftengraze the truth which yet they do not know, so hardest of allto bear just now, were Kitty Fisher's two new names for her:'the Duchess, ' and 'Your Grace. ' Most people indeed did notknow their point, ignorant of Prim's pet name for Mr. Rollo;but Wych Hazel needed no telling; and her face was sometimes athing to see. 

That was the worst of it!--it _was_ a thing to see. And so, whilenow and then one of her special gentlemen friends wouldinterpose, and draw the strokes upon himself; yet herdelicate, womanly fencing was so pretty, so novel; it was suchsport to watch the little hands turn off and parry KittyFisher's rude thrusts; that few masculine hearts wereunselfish enough to forego it. There were actual wagers out asto how long 'the Duchess' could carry it on without losing hertemper or clipping the truth; and how soon 'the Fisher' wouldget tired and give it up. And as for the tokens in MissKennedy's face sometimes, who that had once seen them did notwatch to see them again? Other people began to take up the newtitles; and Mme. Lasalle made courtesies to 'the Duchess, ' andStuart Nightingale and Mr. May bowed low before 'her Grace, 'entreating her hand for the quadrille or the promenade. 

'And some night he will be standing by and hear them say it!'thought Wych Hazel to herself. What should she do? Whereshould she go?

Since the talk on the drive home from Mme. Lasalle's, the girlhad never set foot in one the round dances. Not that she gavein to Mr. Rollo's strictures, --how could _she_ be mistaken?--butbecause the talk had left an unbearable association abouteverything that looked like a round dance. There was theconstant remembrance of the words he had spoken, --there was theconstant fear that he might stand by and think those thoughtsagain. Then she had been extremely disgusted with KittyFisher's new figures; and so, on the whole, in the face ofpersuasions and charges of affectation, Miss Kennedy could behad for nothing but reels, country dances, and quadrilles. Miss Fisher and her set were furious, of course; for all thegentlemen liked what Miss Kennedy liked: there was no usetalking about it. 

If anybody had asked the girl in those weeks before the fancyball what she was doing--and why she wanted to do it, --she wouldhave found it hard to tell. Braving out people's tongues, wasone thing; and plunging into all sorts of escapades becauseany day they might be forbidden, was another. A sort of wildresolving that her young guardian should _not_ feel his power;and endeavour to prove to him that anybody aspiring to thatoffice without her leave asked and obtained, was likely toserve a short term. 

'Is it only till you marry, my dear?--or is it for life?' Mme. Lasalle said, meaningly. And Hazel laughed off an answer, andset her little foot down (mentally) with tremendous force. Wouldn't she marry whom she liked--_if_ she liked?

'He proposes to make you his wife'--Mrs. Coles had said. Shewould like to know what his 'proposing' had to do with it?--except, perhaps, as an initiatory step. 

It was a new version of _Katharine and Petruchio_, --sneered KittyFisher. 

It was a striking instance of disinterested benevolence--in soyoung a man! chimed in Mrs. Seaton, --until at last Hazel rushedinto anything that would put a black coat or whirl of whitemuslin between her and her tormentors. If she was in truthrunning away from herself as well, the confusion was too greatfor her to know it just then. The very idea of stopping tothink what he meant and what she meant, frightened her; andthen she ran faster than ever. 

Of all this Rollo was but slightly aware. Yet he did guess atpart of it. He had seen too much of both men and women not toknow in a measure what must be the natural effect ofcircumstances. And he would have saved Miss Kennedy the worstof it, --only he could not. He was sometimes at theentertainments where she met so much exasperation, and sawfrom a distance as it were the wild whirl of her gaiety. Perhaps he guessed at the meaning of that too. But he was onlya man, and he could not be sure. He never asked her to dancehimself, and never joined a quadrille or reel when she was oneof the set. And that is nearly tantamount to saying he did notdance at all. For reels and quadrilles were very much out offavour, and rarely adopted except just for Miss Kennedy. Andin truth Mr. Rollo in this state of affairs chose to be onlynow and then seen at evening entertainments. When there he wasrather Spanish in his manners, after the old Catskill fashion. Very Spanish indeed Mrs. Coles found him at home; his loftycourtesy kept her at the extreme distance permitted in thegrace of good manners. 

Meanwhile, no _t�te-�-t�te_ conversation had been practicablewith Wych Hazel. He had sought it; but she refused hisinvitations to ride, and while she was in that mood he did notchoose either to risk being turned away again from theChickaree door, or to encounter her in a drawing-room full ofcompany. However, when a good many days had come and gone inthis state of estrangement, Rollo began to feel that it wasgetting unbearable. So he rode up to Chickaree one day just atluncheon time. 

Miss Kennedy was not at home. Not at home in the honest senseof the words. Mr. Rollo asked for Mrs. Bywank, and marchedstraight to the housekeeper's room. And Mrs. Bywank's greetingmade him feel that, for some reason, he had come at the righttime. She begged him to sit down, and ordered luncheon; askingif he was in haste, or if they might wait a little for MissWych?

'She walked down to Mr. Falkirk's a long time ago, ' said thehousekeeper, 'but I am looking for her every minute. Unlessyou cannot wait, Mr. Rollo?'

He would wait; and desired to have Mrs. Bywank's reporttouching the health of her young mistress. Mrs. Bywank lookedperplexed. 

'She's not herself, sir, ' she answered slowly. 'And yet itwould be hard to explain that. I've been wanting to see you, Mr. Rollo, more than I can say; and now you are here I hardlyknow how to tell why. '

'That makes me wish very much you would find out. '

'Phoebe will have it she is sick, ' said the housekeeper, pondering, --'and sometimes I think so myself. I know she goesout too much. And stays up too late. Why, the last time shecame from Governor Powder's I was frightened half to death. '

'That was two weeks ago?'

'Yes, Mr. Rollo. I expected her early, and then Lewis broughtword it would be late, --and so it was. Near morning, in fact. '

'Yes. Well?--She did not suffer from being out too late?'

'I'm sure I don't know, sir, what it was. She walked into thehall just as strong and straight as ever, and then she droppedright down on the first stair, and put her hands and faceagainst the balustrade, and I couldn't get one word from her--nor one look, --any more than if she'd been part of thestaircase. 

'For how long?' asked the gentleman after a short pause, andin a lowered tone. 

'It seemed a week to me, ' said Mrs. Bywank, --'but I only knownothing stirred her till she heard the servants begin to moveabout the house. And then she got up, in a sort of slow way, so that I thought she would fall. And I put my arm around her, and she laid her head on my shoulder, and so we went upstairs. But she only said she was "very, very tired, " and didn't wantany breakfast. I couldn't get another word but that. '

'And since then?'--said her hearer, after another pause inwhich he seemed to have forgotten himself. 

'Since then, ' said Mrs. Bywank, 'there have been balls andpicnics and dinners enough to take one's breath away. But itdon't seem to me she can enjoy them much--she comes home sooften with a sort of troubled look that I can't understand. And when I ask if she's not well, she says, "Yes, very well. "So what is one to to?'

'I don't think you can do anything, Mrs. Bywank. Perhaps Ican. Is that all you have to tell me?'

'Not quite, sir, '--but the old housekeeper hesitated. 'I am notsure about saying all I wanted to say. '

'Why?' said Rollo, smiling. 

'It is a nice matter for one woman to talk about anotherwoman, ' said Mrs. Bywank; and again she paused, evidentlyconsidering where care ended and treason began. 'I am a littleuneasy, sir, --more than a little, --about some of these young menthat come here so often. '

'On what account?' said Rollo shortly and gravely, with a tonethat meant to get to the bottom of _that_ at least. 

'Why, ' said Mrs. Bywank, glancing at him, 'chiefly because Ithink Miss Wych does not know in the least how often theycome. Which, if she thought twice about any one of them, shewould. And if I just hint it to her, she looks at me, andsays--"Often?--when was he here before? I don't remember. " Allthe same, _they_ don't understand that. '

'Well?' said Rollo. 'They are quite equal to taking care ofthemselves. Tell me of any danger to _her_. '

'It lies just there, sir. That she might be drawn on--in herinnocence--to grant favours covering she knows not what. Andsometimes that works trouble. Not caring two snaps for themen, it might never occur to her that they were favours--tillthe cobwebs were all round her feet. You know that, sir?'

Her hearer's brows contracted a little, and the grey eyessnapped; but he was silent. 

'Now here's this fancy ball at Moscheloo, ' said Mrs. Bywank, --'with all sorts of charades that nobody ought to be in. '

'What is that? I have not heard of it. '

'I opine they have kept it rather close, ' said thehousekeeper, --'the day after to-morrow it comes off; and not asoul let in without a ticket. I hoped you might have one, Mr. Rollo. '

'What about the charades?'

'I don't like them, ' said Mrs. Bywank decidedly, --'and theywant Miss Wych in every one. So she's been getting her dressesready, with my help, and telling me the whole story. It's "Mr. May and I are to do this, "--and "While I stand so, CaptainLancaster stands so. " The last of all is a wedding. '

'A wedding!' Rollo repeated. 'Is she to be in that too?'

'Of course, ' said Mrs. Bywank. 'And she said she tried ever sohard to get a ticket for me--that I might see her dressed up. But Madame would not. So said I, "Miss Wych, I would rathernot see you in _that_ dress, till it's the real thing. "

' "O--take what you can get, " she said, running the needle intoher finger and making a great fuss about it. 

' "My dear, " I said, "marriage is much too sacred a thing, in_my_ judgment, to be turned into a frolic. "

' "Well I didn't want to do it, " she said, a little sober;"but Madame would not let me off. " '

'Well?--' said Rollo, with a short breath, as the old ladyagain paused. 

' "But Miss Wych, " I said, "are you to act that with CaptainLancaster?"

'So she flamed out at that, and asked me if I thought shewould?

' "Well, " said I, "for my part, I don't understand how anyyoung lady who expects to be married"--but she put her handright over my mouth. 

' "Now Byo, stop!" she said. "You know you are talking of _me_--not of other young ladies. "

' "Who is to be the happy man in this case?" said I, when shewould let me speak. And she just looked at me, and wouldn'tanswer a word. So I went on. "I suppose I may talk about men, Miss Wych, --and I say I don't think the right sort of man, whomeant some day to marry the right sort of woman, would everwant to go through the motions with everybody else. "--She wassilent a while, --then she looked up. 

' "I wish I had heard all this before, Byo, --but it's too latenow, for I've promised. And of course I never thought it allout so. You know I've never even seen a wedding. But is onlyMr. Lasalle, in this case; and you know he has 'been thoughthe motions' "--Mr. Lasalle, truly!' Mrs. Bywank repeated ingreat scorn. 'A likely thing!'

'Going through the motions!' Rollo repeated. 'Do you mean thatthe wedding ceremony is to be performed?'

'It sounds so, to me, ' said Mrs. Bywank. ' "Well, my dear, "said I, --"then I say this. No man who has been through themotions in earnest with one woman, ought to go them over inplay with another. "

'She looked up again, --one of her pretty, grave looks; and saidslowly, as if she was thinking out her words: "Maybe you areright, Byo. I never thought about it. And of course _that_ sortof man never could. "

' "What sort?" I said. "Then you _have_ thought about it, MissWych?"--Well, she was like a little fury at that, ' said Mrs. Bywank, smiling at the recollection, --'as near as she can evercome to it. And she caught up her hat and went off; and calledback to me that she meant to go through motions enough of somesort, to be ready for her lunch when she got home. --But I wishshe was out of it, Mr. Rollo. '

Her hearer sat silent for a minute. 

'Mrs. Bywank, can you find Miss Hazel's ticket for this ball?'

'I daresay, sir. Would you like to see it?--she shewed it tome. '

'I would like to see it very much. '

The housekeeper went off, and presently brought back thelittle perfumed card, with scrolls and signatures, and 'Admit----' and 'Not transferable. '

'She puts her own name in this place before she gives it in, 'said Mrs. Bywank. 

The gentleman looked at the ticket attentively--then bestowedit safely in his vest pocket; as if that subject was disposedof. 

'But Mr. Rollo!'--said the housekeeper in some consternation. 

'What, Mrs. Bywank?' he returned innocently. 

'Miss Wych will never forgive me, sir!'

'What?'

'Why--for stealing her ticket and giving it to you, sir. '

'You have not stolen it. And you never meant to give it to me. And she is not to know anything about it. '

'It feels like high treason!' said Mrs. Bywank. 'And she iscertain to get another. But I'm sure I'd be glad there wassome one there to look after things; for if she once got intothat, and found young Nightingale or some of the rest withher, she'd be fit to fly. And there she comes, this minute. '

As they looked, Wych Hazel came out from the deep shadow ofthe trees that clothed this end of the garden approach;faultlessly dressed as usual, and with her apron gathered upfull of flowers; and herself not alone. A young 'undressuniform' was by her side. 

'Captain Lancaster, '--said Mrs. Bywank. 

They came slowly on, talking; then stopped where the road tothe main entrance branched off, --the young officer cap in hand, extremely deferential. They could see his face now; handsome, soldierly, and sunburnt; with a pleasant laugh which camereadily at her words. Her face they could not see, beneath thebroad garden-hat. The gentleman touched his ungloved hand toWych Hazel's little buff gauntlet; then apparently preferredsome request which was not immediately granted; so gesturesseemed to say. Finally he held out his hand again; and shetook from her apron a flower and placed in it; and it lookedas if fingers and flower were taken together for a second. Itwas a pretty scene; and yet Mrs. Bywank sighed. Then with aprofound reverence the young officer moved away, and WychHazel entered the side door. She came on along the passagesinging; trilling out the gay little lullaby by virtue ofwhich Mrs. Bywank had long ago earned her name. 

'Byo, bye! baby bye!Byo, bye, little baby!Byo, byo, byo, byo'--

'Where are you, Byo dear?' she said, opening the door. Thenstopped short in undoubted surprise. 'Mr. Rollo!--You two!' shesaid, looking from one to the other; adding mentally, 'And youhave been talking about me!'

It was not just a pleased flush that came; and it was with alittle needless straightening of herself up that Wych Hazelcrossed the floor, and untying her apron of flowers laid itdown on Mrs. Bywank's sofa. Then she was the lady of Chickareeagain, graceful and composed. She came back and held out herhand. 

'I hope your luncheon is ready, Byo?' she said; 'and that youhave something very good to reward Mr. Rollo for his longwaiting. I had no idea I was delaying any one but you, or Ishould have made more haste. Mrs. Bywank spoils me, Mr. Rollo, by giving me just the same welcome whether I come early orlate. But I am very sorry if I have hindered you. '

'You have not hindered me, ' he said smiling, and giving herhand the old sort of clasp, --'except from everything I havetried to do, for some time past. '

But that idea Miss Wych did not see fit to take up. 

'What have I done, ' he went on audaciously, 'to be ignored inthis fashion?'

'Ignored!' she said, opening her eyes at him. 

'Will you substitute another word?' said he, looking for it inthe orbs so revealed. Wych Hazel turned off. 

'Will you come to luncheon, sir?' she said; so exactly as ifshe were speaking to Mr. Falkirk, that Mrs. Bywank looked upin mute amazement. 

But lunch was not to have much attention, nevertheless. Dingeebegan a raid on the housekeeper's room. It was:

'Mas' Nightingale, Missee Hazel. '

'Mas' May and--Miss May, ma'am. --'

'Mrs. Powder, Missee Hazel--and all de rest!' added Dingee. ''Spect dere ain't a livin' soul _won't_ be there, time I getback. Miss Fisher, she done ask for Mas' Rollo. But I'selearnin' to tell the truf fustrate. '

'What is the truth about me, Dingee?' asked that gentleman. 'Ishould be glad to hear it. '

'Well, sir, ' said Dingee, standing attention, 'she 'quire'bout you. So I say, "Mas' Rollo, he done come dis mornin', sure, --but my young mistiss she out. So he done gone straightaway from de door, ma'am. " Mighty glad she never ask whichway!' added Dingee with a chuckle. Wych Hazel held down herhead, laughing the sweet laugh which would come now and then, in the worst of times. 

'Run away, ' she said, 'and say I am coming. I must go, Byo--ifMr. Rollo will excuse me. And as he came to see you, I supposehe will!'

But Mr. Rollo went away without his luncheon, after all. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

FIGURES AND FAVOURS. 

The very night after this affair of the ticket, came a'German, ' pure and simple, at one of the far-off houses of theneighbourhood. The daughters here were of Miss Fisher'spersuasion; and among them they had arranged the whole affair. This should be a 'German, ' and nothing else. Kitty Fisher wasto lead, and neither quadrille nor country dance would betolerated for a moment. Miss Kennedy found on her arrivalthat, for this night at least, round dances were paramount: itwas such, or none. Well, she thought she could stand it, atfirst, --there were enough people always ready to promenade. Butthis was not an outdoor party, the night was too cool to makeit even partially such; and to walk the whole evening in themoonlight is one thing, and in the gaslight quite another. Then Kitty Fisher was in a merciless mood, --and Hazel could nothead her off with flat denials; because, though not reallyunder orders, she well knew how much Mr. Rollo had to do withwhat they termed 'her new kink about dancing. ' And even worsethan the open charge that she was afraid to disobey, were thecovert insinuations that she was anxious to please. 

Then (to tell the whole truth) she did very much long foranother flight among the gay flags and ribbands which made theGerman so lively, --she could not see the harm! Only she couldnever have done it with those grey eyes looking on and drawingtheir own false conclusions about everybody and everything. But to-night he was not on hand: the guests had all arrivedlong ago, and no guardian in any shape among them. And so, over persuaded by circumstances, and especially by Mr. Nightingale, who made himself rather more than a circumstance, Wych hazel gave him her hand and went forward to take herplace. Under pledge, however, that if any one of the newfigures came up she had leave to retire. A burst of applauseand congratulation hailed her appearance; and in a very fewminutes she had forgotten all but the music and the whirl ofintoxication. Even partners sank into insignificance, andbecame only so many facilities for so much delight. Not soeasily could her partners forget her, --the girlish face, sometimes grave with its own enjoyment, and then--'bright as aconstellation!'--declared Mr. Simms; the grace of manner whichkept its distance well; the diaphonous dress which floatedaround her like a golden haze; the scarlet flowers in herhair. Never had she danced, never looked, more thoroughlyherself. 

There are times when we get a lesson from without, --there areothers when it must come from within; and Mr. Rollo, who hadgiven the first, was now to see his work finished by thesecond. Wych Hazel was wrong, he was there; but he had comelate, and if any of the dancers saw him they kept it hush; sothat he looked on at his ward without her knowledge. But itmust be noted as an instance of the perversity of Mr. Rollo'smind, that the more thoroughly he perceived the differencebetween Wych Hazel and her companions, the less he liked tohave her among them; and every point in the dance where sheescaped without even a touch upon her modest bearing, as iftruly no one dared take liberties with her, made him half wildto get her out of it altogether. 

Thus thinking and watching, Mr. Rollo saw two strange thingstake place. First came this:

A new figure was called, and the partners were to be sorted bymeans of long streamers of different-coloured ribbands. WychHazel, having already received hers, a green, stood drawing itthrough her fingers and chatting with Josephine Powder, whoseribband was blue. Suddenly Miss Kennedy caught away the blueribband and began to compare its length with that of her own;measuring and re-measuring, tangling the long ends uptogether; until as the gentlemen came up to match colours andclaim their partners, Wych Hazel hurriedly put the greenstreamer in Josephine's hand, and went off with CaptainLancaster. The green and blue were such convertible colours inthe gaslight that no one took any notice. But Rollo saw thatWych Hazel drew a long breath as she moved away, and lookeddown, and did not say much for several minutes. That figurepassed off with nothing unusual. 

Then followed another, during which the couples were arrangedin a sort of haphazard way; the ladies and gentlemen drawingup in two long opposite lines, each then to take his _vis-�-vis_. But where a lady was in great demand, the gentleman _not_strictly opposite would sometimes press down and forward, trying to catch her eye, and prove himself her partner by mereright of possession. The line of men stood with their backstowards Mr. Rollo, so that he did not at first see who it wasthat started forward so eagerly, taking a fair diagonaltowards Miss Kennedy. But he saw her change colour, with asort of frightened look, and then--most unlike her usual shybearing, --saw her turn the other way, and herself take adiagonal towards what proved in this instance to be Mr. May. With a great flush of crimson at first, and then growing andremaining very pale, and dancing very languidly. And then, atthe foot of the room, her eyes met those of her youngguardian, --which about finished up the evening. For twice thatnight Wych Hazel had been within a hair's breadth of havingher hand taken by the very man from whose presence she hadescaped that night in July. To get rid of him she had putherself off on somebody else, and Mr. Rollo had seen it all!

'Put Molly Seaton in my place, Josephine, ' she whispered, 'Mr. May is going to excuse me. '

But they crowded round her and insisted upon 'just one more. 'She should not finish this figure if she disliked it, --theywould stop it short: anything to keep Miss Kennedy on thefloor! Would she dance 'Le Verre de Vin'?

'Never!'--with sudden energy. 

'My gracious me!--how spiteful we are!' said Kitty Fisher. '_You_wouldn't have to drink it. Well, then, "La Poursuite"?'

Miss Kennedy hated 'La Poursuite. '

'And--for Miss Kennedy--it is such breathless work, ' said Mr. Kingsland. 

'And--for Mr. Kingsland--etcetera, etcetera--' said Kittymockingly. 'Stephen, when there is an opportunity for remarks, I'll let you know. "La Poursuite" is just the thing. You see, Hazel, ' she whispered, 'the Viking can rush in and reclaim hisprize, and reconciliations take place in the final tour. '

'I shall not dance it, Kitty, ' said Wych Hazel steadily, though her cheeks glowed. 

'No?' said Miss Fisher. 'Not to the tune of "The king shallenjoy his own again"? Well--what of "Les Mains Myst�rieuses"?'

'_I_ protest, now, ' said Captain Lancaster. 'There cannot beeven a pretence of mystery about Miss Kennedy's hand. It isthe merest farce. '

'O, you'd like "Le Coussin, " and a chance to go down on yourknees!' said Miss Fisher, slightly provoked. 

'Pardon me!' said Captain Lancaster. 'When I go down on myknees to Miss Kennedy, I shall want no cushion. '

'Good!' said Miss Burr. 

'I vow, ' said Kitty Fisher, 'you're a lover worth having. Butthe pretty dear'll get spoiled among you. Come--what will shechoose? "Le Miroir!" Nothing to do but look at her own sweetself. Run away, Duchess, and take your seat. '

'Rather stupid, I think, ' said Wych Hazel, as she wentunwillingly forward, --but she was getting wild, standing there!'I think I shall take the first one that comes, and savetrouble. '

She sat down in front of the long mirror, in which she couldsee the whole room behind her: everybody in it, and everymotion of everybody. But she really saw but one person, and hewas motionless. Others, gazing in, had a marvellous prettypicture of golden gauze and scarlet flowers, and a fair youngface from which the gaiety had suddenly died out. The breastof her dress was covered with 'favours;' basket and ring, belland bouquet, a flag, a rosette, a pair of gloves, --Rollo couldnot identify all the details of the harlequin crew; but itlooked as if Miss Kennedy had been chosen by everybody, everytime! She sat still enough now. 

'Look up, child!' cried Miss Fisher. 'How do you expect toknow who's behind you, if you sit studying your pretty feetupon the floor? You may flirt away an angel, and welcome somegentleman in black who was not invited. '

There was a laugh at this sally; and as several gentlemensprang eagerly forward, Kitty began to hum--' "This is themaiden all forlorn, " '--but for once Hazel did not listen. 

'Flirt somebody away!' she was thinking, --'I should like to seemyself doing it! I shall take the very first that comes. '

But alas for good intentions in a bad place! The room waslong, and some people were further off, and others close athand, and the very first that looked over her chair was Mr. Morton! Hazel gave a toss of her handkerchief that half blewhim away. And the next--yes, the very next, was the man whomshe had been eluding all the evening. This time the hand movedmore languidly, and her eyes never looked up, and her cheeksrivalled the scarlet flowers. 

'She'll learn, --O, she'll learn!' cried Kitty Fisher. 'Neversaw it better done in my life. Such a discriminating touch!'

'Is there anybody else to escape?' thought poor Hazel, herbreath coming quick. And then she was so delighted to seeCaptain Lancaster's pleasant face, that she shewed it in herown; and the gentleman took an amount of encouragementtherefrom which by no means belonged to him. He waited uponMiss Kennedy for the rest of that evening with a devotionwhich everybody saw except herself. No such trifles as a man'sdevotion got even a passing notice from her. For the girl wasfeeling desperate. How many times that night had she beenbetrayed into what she disliked and despised and had said shenever would do? If Rollo had not been there, perhaps she wouldhave felt only shame, --as it was, for the time it made herreckless. 'Le miroir' gave place to other figures, and stillMiss Kennedy shewed no second wish to retire and join thelookers-on. But every time the demands of the dance made _her_choose a partner--when it was her woman's right to be chosen!--every time she was passed rapidly from hand to hand withouteven the poor power of choice, Wych Hazel avenged it onherself by the sharpest silent comments; while to herpartners, she was proud, and reserved, and brilliant, andgenerally 'touch-me-not;' until they too were desperate--withadmiration. 

If Rollo was half wild in secret he had the power to keep itto himself. His demeanour was composed, and _not_ abstracted;his attentions to others, when occasion was, for he did notseek it, as gracefully rendered as usual; he even talked;though through it all it is safe to say he lost nothing ofwhat Wych Hazel was doing. Nobody would have guessed, not inthe secret, that he had any particular attention in that room, or indeed anywhere! He did not approach Wych Hazel to obligeher to notice him; he would not give her the additionalannoyance or himself the useless pain. 

Yet, though severely tried that night, he was not unreasonablydiscouraged. He partly read Wych Hazel; or he surmised whatwas at the bottom of her wild gaiety; and he had greattenderness for her. A tenderness that made him grave at heartand somewhat grave outwardly; but he did not despair, and hebided his time. He was not irritated that she had broken thebonds of his words, amidst all his profound vexation. He hadheard enough of people's tongues, and also knew enough of her, to understand pretty well how it was. He would not even lookanother remonstrance that night; only, he resolved to stay outthe evening and at least see the girl safe in her carriage togo home. He would not go with her either this time. 

'Hazel, ' whispered Miss Fisher, in one of the figure pauses, 'slip out quietly at the side door when the break-up begins, and we'll have a lark. Stuart says he'll drive me home, ifI'll coax you to go along. You can stay with me to-night. We'll go a little before everybody, you know, ' she addedpersuasively, for Hazel hesitated. 'And the Duke need neverknow. '

Still Hazel was silent, balancing alternatives. Could she beara _t�te-�-t�te_ drive home with him? Could she escape it in anyother way?--She gave Kitty Fisher a little nod, and whirled offin the hands of Mr. May. 

But 'Duke' was nearer than they know, and specially observantof Kitty Fisher's doings. He was not near enough to catch theimport of the question or proposal; but his quick hears heard'side door'--and his eyes saw that Hazel's sign was of assent;and his wits guessed at the meaning of both. A moment'sreflection made him certain of his conclusion. 

Dane bit his lip at the first flash of this conclusion. He sawbefore him again a task which he would have given a great dealto be spared. Both from tenderness and from policy he wasexceeding unwilling to thwart Wych Hazel now, most of all inthis company, thereby subjecting her to renewed annoyance, inevitable and galling. Yet he never hesitated; and his oldhunter's instinct abode with him, that no step which _must_ betaken is on the whole a bad step. He left the room before thedance was finished, and was in the lobby when the party hewaited for came down the broad staircase, ready for theirdrive. He did not present himself, but when Wych Hazel hadfollowed Kitty Fisher out of the side door, before whichStuart's equipage stood ready, she heard a very low voice ather side, which low as it was she knew very well. 

'Miss Hazel, your carriage is at the other door. '

But Kitty Fisher saw, if she did not hear. 

'No room for you, ' she said. 'Much as ever to get me in. Goodnight, Sir Duke, and pleasant dreams. The pleasant realitiesare all bespoke. '

'Miss Kennedy--' low at Wych Hazel's side. 

'One of the aforesaid pleasant realities, ' said Kitty, withher hand on Wych Hazel's shoulder. 'Come, Duchess!'

Hazel's words had been all ready, but at this speech they diedaway. It seemed to her as if her cheeks must light up thedarkness!

'Your carriage is in waiting, ' Rollo went on, in a calm lowtone, which ignored Kitty and everybody else. 

Still no word. 

'Now come!' said Miss Fisher--'don't you play tyrant yetawhile. She's going home with me. Poor little Duchess!--daresn't say her soul's her own! What's the matter--didn't sheask you pretty?'

There was no answer to this. Rollo did not honour her with anyattention. Hazel freed her shoulder from Miss Fisher's hand, and turned short about. 

'There is no use contesting things, ' she said, speaking withan effort which made the words sound hard-edged and abrupt. 'Ishall drive home by myself to Chickaree. Good-night. ' Andwithout a look right or left, she went up the steps and acrossthe hall into the carriage at the other door. 

Rollo saw her in without a word, and turned away. 

And Miss Kennedy, --as if her spite against something orsomebody was not yet appeased, --began deliberately, one by one, to take the 'favours' off her dress and drop them through theopen carriage window upon the road. But, let me say, she wasnot (like Quickear) laying a clue for herself, by which tofind her way back to the 'German. ' Never again. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

THE RUNAWAY. 

The fancy ball at Moscheloo was a brilliant affair. Morebrilliant perhaps than in the crush and mixed confusion ofcity society could have been achieved. It is a great thing tohave room for display. There were people enough, not too many;and almost all of them knew their business. So there was gooddressing and capital acting. The evening would have been asuccess, even without the charades on which Mme. Lasalle laidso much stress. 

Dominoes were worn for the greater amusement; and of coursecuriosity was busy; but more than curiosity. In theincongruous fashion common to such entertainments, a handsomeTurkish janissary drew up to a figure draped in dark serge andwith her whole person enveloped in a shapeless mantle of thesame, which was drawn over her head and face. 

'I have been puzzling myself for the last quarter of an hour, 'said he, 'to find out--not who--but _what_ you are. '

'Been successful?' said the witch. 

'I confess, no. Of course you will not tell me _who_ you are;but I beg, who do you pretend to be?'

'O, pretend!' said the witch. 'I am "a woman that hath afamiliar spirit!" '

'Where did you pick up your attendant?'

'Came at my call. I suppose you have heard of Endor?'

'Have I? En--dor? Where _have_ I heard that name? It is no placeabout here. 'Pon my honour, I forget. '

'In the East?' suggested the witch. 

'Stupid!--I know; you are the very person I want to see. Butfirst I wish you would resolve an old puzzle of mine--Did youbring up Samuel, honestly?--or was it all smoke?'

'Smoke proves fire. '

'Samuel would not have been in the fire. '

'He would if it was necessary, ' said the witch. 'Whom do youwant brought up, Mr. Nightingale?'

'Ha!' said the janissary. 'How do you know that? But perhapsyou are "familiar" with everybody. Bring up Miss Kennedy?'

'Very well, ' said the witch, beginning to walk slowly roundhim. 'But as it is not certain that Saul saw Samuel, I supposeit will not matter whether you see her?'

'It matters the whole of it! I want to see her of course. There is nobody else, in fact, whom I want to see; nor anybodyelse worth seeing after her. The rarest, brightest, mostdistracting vision that has ever been seen west of yourplace. '

'If there is nobody worth seeing after, you had better seeeverybody else first, ' said the witch, pausing in her round. 

'You have a familiar spirit. Tell me what she thinks about me;will you?'

The witch threw up a handful of sweet pungent dust into theair, and made another slow round about the janissary. 

'Neither black nor white, '--she said oracularly, 'neitheryellow nor blue; neither pea-green nor delicate mouse grey. '

'I?' said Stuart. 'Or what?'

'Either. Both. '

The janissary laughed somewhat uneasily. Just then a knight, extremely well got up in the habiliments of the 13th century, stepped near and accosted the witch in a confidential tone. 

'Everybody here, I suppose, is known to you. Pray who is thatvery handsome, very _d�collet�e_, lady from the court of Charlesthe Second? Upon my word! she does it well. '

'That is Miss Fisher. '

'Well, if women knew!'--said the knight slowly. It was evidenthe thought himself speaking to safe ears, probably nothandsome enough to be displayed. 'If they knew!' he repeated. 'Does she not do it well?'

'Does she?' said the witch. 'I was not in England just then. '

'Don't you wish you had been! It's a very fair show, '--continued the knight as he looked. 'We ought to be muchobliged to the lady. Really, she leaves--nothing--to be desired!If you please, merely as a subject of curiosity, from whatpart of the world and time does yonder figure come? the broad-brimmed hat?'

The figure was a very fine one, by the way. His dress was aquaintly-cut suit of dark blue cloth, the edges bound withcrimson, and fastened with silver buttons. White fine threadstockings were tied at the knee with crimson riband, andsilver buckles were in his shoes. 

'You must know, ' said the witch, 'that there are several partsof the world from which I have been banished. '

'In an aesthetic point of view, I should say the edict wasjustified, ' returned the knight, surveying the bale of brownserge before him. He passed on, and the man in the blue clothpresently took his place. 

'They tell me you are a witch, ' said he, speaking in rather alow tone; 'and as you see, I am a countryman. Will you havethe goodness to explain to me--I suppose you understand it--whatall the these people are?'

'They are people who for the present find their happiness inbeing other people, ' said the witch, with a grave voice, inwhich however a laugh was somewhat imperfectly muffled. 'Likeyourself, sir. '

'Like me? Quite the contrary. I was never more myself, Iassure you. For that very reason I find myself not at home. Excuse my curiosity. Why, if you please, do they seek theirhappiness out of themselves, as it were, in this way?'

'Well, ' said the witch confidentially, 'to tell you the truth, I don't know. You see I am in your predicament, and was nevermore myself. '

'But I thought you had a familiar spirit? I have read so muchas that. '

'At your service'--said the witch. 

'Then be so good as to enlighten me. I see a movingkaleidoscope view of figures--it's very pretty--but why are theyall here?'

'Some because they were invited, ' said the witch critically. 'And doubtless some because others were. And a good many forfun--and a few for mischief. '

'Is it the custom in this country to make mischief one of thepleasures of society?'

'Yes!' said the witch with some emphasis. 'And to tell you thetruth again, that is just one of the points in which societymight be improved. '

'But how do fun and mischief go along together?'

'Well, that depends, ' said the witch. 'The wrong sort ofmischief spoils the right sort of fun. '

'And does that often happen, among such well-dressed people asthese?'

'O, where if her Grace?'--cried a gay voice in the distance. 'I've sworn to find her. '

The witch was silent a moment, then answered slowly, 'Ithappens--quite often. '

'Can people find nothing pleasanter to do with their time, 'said the countryman, 'than to spend it in mischief? or in funwhich the mischief spoils? These things you tell me sound verystrange in my ears. '

'The right sort of mischief _is_ fun, --and the right sort of funis -not- mischief, ' she said impatiently. 'And what people findin the wrong sorts, I don't know!'

'By the way, ' said the countryman, 'how come _you_ to be here?How did you escape, when Saul killed all the rest of thewitches?'

'It is queer, isn't it?' she said. 'Wouldn't you have supposedI should be the first one to fall?'

'And in this country, are you using your experience to make orto mend mischief?'

'Make all I can! Are there any Sauls on hand, do you think?'

'Pray, what sort of man would you characterize by that name?'

'Well, ' said she of Endor with again the hidden laugh in hervoice, 'some men have a hidden weakness for witches whichconflicts with their duty, --and some men don't!'

'I hope I am not a Saul, then, ' said the countryman laughing, though softly; 'but in any case you are safe to take my armfor a walk round the rooms. I should like to see all that isto be seen; and perhaps you could help me to understand. '

It was not a more incongruous pair than were to be seen inmany parts of the assembly. The beauty of Charles the Second'scourt was flirting with Rob Roy; a lady in the wonderful ruffof Elizabeth's time talked with a Roman toga; a Franciscanmonk with bare feet gesticulated in front of a Swiss maiden;as the Witch of Endor sauntered through the rooms on the armof nobody knew exactly what countryman. 

'Your prejudices must be very often shocked here, ' said thecountryman with a smothered tone of laughter again. 'Or, I begpardon!--has a witch any prejudices, seeing she can have nogravity?'

'What does prejudice mean in your country?'

'Much the same, I am afraid, that it does elsewhere. What arewe coming to?'

Passing slowly through the rooms, they had arrived at thegreat saloon, at one end of which large folding doors openedinto another and smaller apartment. This smaller room was hungwith green baize; candelabra shed gentle light upon it fromwithin the doors, so placed as not to be seen from theprincipal room; and over the folding doors was hung a hick redcurtain; rolled up now. 

'What is all this?'

'O, if you wait a while, ' said the witch, 'you will seefurther transformations--that is all. '

'And what is _this_ for?' said the countryman, pointing to therolled-up rend curtain. 

'To hide the transformed, till they are ready to be seen. '

'But it does not hide anything, ' said the countryman obtusely. 'How do they get it down?'

He went examining about the door-posts, with undoubtedcuriosity, till he found the mechanism attached to the curtainand touched the spring. Down fell the red folds in an instant. The man drew it up again, and let it fall again, and againdrew it up. 

'Very good, ' he said approvingly. 'Very good. We have no suchclever curtains in my country. That will do very well. '

As he spoke, a bell sounded through the house. Immediately thewitch escaped by a side door. Two or three others followedher; and then the rest of the company began to pour in andfill the saloon before the red curtain. 

'Well, I never _was_ so stupid in all my life!' said the courtbeauty. 'I might have _known_ no other girl would come as a rollof serge!'

'And I might have known, that if I failed to recognize MissKennedy's hand, it could be only because it was out of sight, 'said Mr. Kingsland, who by special favour wore only his ownface and dress. 

'You'll get a mitten from her hand--and a slap in it, if youdon't look out, ' said the lady. 

'Better a mitten from that hand than a glove from any other, 'replied Mr. Kingsland with resignation. 

'Easier for you to get, ' the beauty retorted. 'But did youhear of the fun we had the other night?--the best joke! We allput Seaton up to it, and he carried it off well. Dickwouldn't. Before the dancing began, he went up to Miss Kennedyand asked her with his gravest face whether she feltguardian's orders to be binding? And she coloured all up, likea child as she is, and inquired who wanted to know? So Seatonbowed down to the ground almost, and said he--

' "I had the honour of asking Mr. Rollo this afternoon, concerning the drive we spoke of; and he gave me an emphaticno. And now I am come to you to reverse the decision. "

'Well, you should have seen her face!--and "_What_ did he say, Major Seaton?" she asked. "As near as I can remember, " saidSeaton with another bow, "he said, Sir I cannot possibly allowMiss Kennedy to take any such drive as you propose!" '

'Well?--' said Mr. Kingsland, --'I have heavy wagers out on MissKennedy's dignity. '

'I don't know what you call dignity, ' said the beauty, --'Ididn't know at first but she would knock him down for hisinformation, --she did, with her eyes. And then my lady Duchessdrew herself up as grand as could be, and answered just as ifshe didn't care a snap, --"Did Mr. Rollo say that, Major Seaton?Then I certainly shall not go. " '

Mr. Kingsland clapped his hands softly. 'Safe yet, ' he said. 'But where did Kitty pick up that name for her?' he added, turning to his next neighbour. 'You are in the way of suchtitles. '

'Kitty won't tell, ' the lady answered, an elaborate QueenElizabeth. 'Not at present. She found out nobody understood, but Miss Kennedy does, so now she holds it over Miss Kennedy'shead that she _will_ tell. That is the way she got her beforethe glass the other night. '

'The tenderness these gentle creatures have for each other!'said Mr. Kingsland. 

Meantime a bustling crowd had been pouring in and filling thesaloon, and there began to be a cry for silence. The curtainwas down; by whom dropped no one knew; but now it was raisedagain by the proper attendants, and the sight of the coolgreen little stage brought people to their good behaviour. Thesilence of expectancy spread through the assembly. 

Behind the scenes there was a trifle of delay. 

'My dear child, ' Mme. Lasalle whispered to the _ci-devant_ witchof Endor, 'Mr. Lasalle is in no condition to act with you ashe promised. Ill; really ill, you know. We must take some oneelse. Standing about with bare feet don't agree with hisconstitution. It won't matter. '

'It matters very much!' said Wych Hazel. 'O, well--just leavethat charade out. There are enough more. '

'Indeed there are not!' exclaimed her hostess. 'We cannotspare this. Indeed I doubt if any other will be worthpresenting after it. My dear, it makes no difference! and youare ready, and Stuart is ready, and the people are waiting. You must not fail me at the pinch, Hazel. Go on and do yourprettiest, for my sake. '

'Not with Mr. Nightingale. I will have little Jemmy Seaton, then. He is tall enough. '

'He couldn't do it. Nonsense, my dear! you don't mean thatthere is anything _serious_ in it? It is only a play, and ashort one too; and Stuart will be, privately, a greatimprovement on Mr. Lasalle, who wouldn't have done it withspirit enough; as why should he? Come, go on! Stuart is notworse to play with than another, is he? Come! there's Mr. Brandevin waiting for you. He's capital!'

There was no time to debate the matter; no time to makefurther changes; everybody was waiting; Miss Kennedy had toyield. 

The first act was on this fashion. An old man in the blouse ofa Normandy peasant sat smoking his pipe. Enter to him hisdaughter, a lovely peasant girl; Wych Hazel to wit. The fatherspoke in French; the daughter mingled French and English inher talk very prettily. There was some dumb show of servinghim; and then the old man got up to go out, charging hisdaughter in the severest manner to admit no company in hisabsence. Scarcely is he gone, when enter on the other side asmart young man in the same peasant dress. Words here were notaudible. In dumb show the young man made protestations ofdevotion, begged for his mistress's hand and kissed it withgreat fervour; and appeared to be carrying on a lively suit tothe damsel. Now nothing could have been prettier than thepicture and the pantomime. Stuart kept his face away from theaudience; Wych Hazel was revealed, and in the coy, blushingmaidenly dignity and confusion which suited the character andoccasion, was a tableau worth looking at. Well looked at, andin deep silence of the company; till suddenly the growling oldFrench father is heard coming back again. The peasant startsto his feet, the girl sits down in terror. 

'What shall I do?' he cries, and she echoes, --'What shall hedo? What shall he do?'

Then came confused answers from the spectators:--'Bolt, oldfellow!'--'Escape!'--'Fly!'--'Run!'--and the last word being takenup and re-echoed, 'Run! run!'--he _did_ run; ran out and then ranin and across the stage again; finally out of sight; and dropthe curtain. The burst of applause was tremendous. 

'You'll have to go on, you know, if that keeps up, ' saidStuart behind the scenes; 'and I don't wonder. Here, Mr. Brandevin, go in and stop them!'

The next scene was also very well done. The old Frenchgentleman was alone, and had it all to perform by himself. Hebegan with calling his daughter, in various discordant keys, and with such a variety of impatient and exasperatedintonation, that the whole room was full of laughter. Hisdaughter not appearing nor answering, he next instituted amake-believe search for her, feigning to go into the kitchen, the buttery, her bedroom. Not finding her, and making a greatdeal of amusement for the spectators by the way, he at lastcomes back and asks in a deploring tone, 'Where is she?'

Cries of 'Off!'--'Gone!'--'Sloped!'--'Away!' were such a medleythat nobody professed to be able yet to make out the word. Thecurtain fell again. 

'You are very stupid, ' said Mme. Lasalle. 'It is as plain aspossible. '

'It will be, when we see the rest, ' said somebody. 'No, Idon't think it is, either. '

For as he spoke, the curtain rose upon an old clergyman, busywith his books at a table with a lamp. He had a wig, andlooked very venerable indeed. Presently to him comes, after aknock, his servant woman. 

'Please, sir, here's a young couple wantin' to see ye. It'sthe old story, I expect. '

'Let them come, Sarah--let them come in!' says the oldclergyman; 'the old story is the newest of all! Let themcome, --but first help me on with my gown. So!--now you may openthe door. '

Enter the old peasant's daughter and her lover. The latterconfers with the old clergyman, who wheezes and puffs and isquite fussy; finally bids them stand before him in the properposition. The proper position, of course, brings the twopeople to face the audience, while the old clergyman's backwas a little turned to them, and no loss. 

Now the dislike with which Miss Kennedy had received thechange of companions in this charade by no means lessened asthe play went on. The first scene had annoyed her, the minuteshe had time to think it over during the solo of the second;and now finding herself face to face with ideas as well aspeople, --ideas that were not among her familiars, --was verydisagreeable; all the more that Mr. Nightingale had contrivedto infuse rather more spirit into his part of the performancethan was absolutely needful. Wych Hazel looked unmistakeablydisturbed, and her eyes never quitted the ground. Theaudience, quite failing to catch her mood, only applauded. 

'Capital!' said General Merrick. 'Positively capital! If itwas a real case, and she in momentary expectation of herfather, she might look just so. '

'Or if she had accidentally escaped with the wrong person, 'said Captain Lancaster, who would have rather preferred to bein Mr. Nightingale's position himself. 

'No, ' said one of the ladies, 'she is not afraid, --what isshe?'

'She is Wych Hazel, ' said Mr. Kingsland. 'Do you see what abreath came then? Not complimentary to Nightingale--but he canfind somebody else to turn his head. '

Meanwhile, they all standing so, the old clergyman began hisoffice. 

'Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife?' he demandedaudibly enough. And Stuart's reply came clear--

'I will. '

'Wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband?'

He had turned towards the pretty peasant girl who stood therewith her eyes cast down, and expectation was a-tiptoe. Beforethe eyes were lifted, and before an answer could be returned, another actor came upon the scene. The countryman who wore thedark blue cloth bound with crimson, stepped into the groupfrom his place at the side of the curtain. He wore his broad-brimmed hat, but removed his domino as he came upon the stage. Yet he stood so that the audience were not in position to seehis face. They heard his voice. 

'There is a mistake here, ' he said with and excellent Frenchaccent on his English. 'This lady is a--what you call--she hasno power to dispose of herself. '

The clergyman looked somewhat doubtful and astonished; he hadnot been prepared for this turn of the play; but it was all inkeeping, the interruption came naturally, quietly; he had tomeet it accordingly. Stuart's face darkened; he knew better;nevertheless for him too there was but one thing possible, togo on and play the play. His face was all in keeping, too. Theanger of the one and the doubt of the other actor were allproper to the action and only helped the effect. 

'Diable! what do you want here?' the young peasant exclaimed. 

'What is all this, sir? what is this?' said the old minister. 'What do you here, sir?'

'I come for the lady. '

'The lady don't want to see you, you fool!' exclaimed Stuart. 'You needn't think it. '

'What authority have you here, sir, to interfere with myoffice?' demanded the clergyman. 

'Monsieur'--said the countryman hesitating, 'Monsieur knows. This young girl is young--I represent the guardians of her. Sheis minor; she has no property, nor no power to marry herself;she had nothing at all. She has run away. Monsieur sees. Come, you runaway!' he went on, advancing lightly to where the younggirl stood. 'Come with me! She has run away; there is nomarriage to-day, sir, ' he added with a touch of his hat to theold clergyman. And then, taking Wych Hazel's hand and puttingit on his arm he walked her out of the room. It was not as itwas few evenings ago; her hand was taken in earnest now andheld, and she was obliged to go as she was led. In the littleapartment which served as a green-room there were one or twoattendants. Rollo walked past them with a steady, swift stepwhich never stayed nor allowed his companion to stop, until hereached the ladies' dressing-room. It was entirely empty now. The very servants had gathered where they could see the play. Here Rollo released his charge. 

The first thing she did was to seat herself on the nearestchair and look at him. Her first words were peculiar. 

'If I could give you the least idea, Mr. Rollo, howexceedingly disagreeable it is to have my hand taken in thatway, it is possible--I am not sure--but it is _possible_, youwould not do it. Your hands are so strong!' she said, lookingdown at the little soft things in her lap. 'And my strength isnot practised. '

He looked grave, but spoke very gently, bending towards her asif also considering the little hands. 

'Did I act so well?' said he. 'You see that was because therewas so much earnest in it. '

'What made you do it?--is everything forbidden unless I askleave?'

'Do you want to know why I did it?'

'I did not like the play, either, ' she said, --'and I did notexpect--part of it. But I had promised, and straight throughwas the quickest way out. It would have done--everybody--toomuch honour to make a fuss. '

'I did nobody any honour, and I made no fuss, ' said Rollo, inhis old quaint fashion. 'And my way was the very quickest wayout for you. '

She jumped up, with a queer little inarticulate answer, thatcovered all his statements. 

'There will be a fuss, if I do not find a quick way back amongthose people, ' she said, passing round him to the door. Thenpaused with her hand on the knob, considering something. 

'Why did you do it, Mr. Rollo?'

'I will try to explain, as soon as I get an opportunity. Oneword, ' he added, detaining her, --'Laugh it off as far as youcan, down stairs, as part of the play. '

'Easy to do, ' said the girl with some emphasis. 'UnfortunatelyI do not feel at all like laughing. If you had done _me_ alittle honour, sir, it would have been needless. '

She went first to the small dressing-room down stairs, catching up her serge and muffling herself in it once more, sothat not a thread of her peasant's dress appeared; then wentsilently in among the crowd, a very sober witch indeed. It wasa little while before she was molested. By and by, whileanother charade was engaging people's interest, Mme. Lasalleworked round to the muffled figure. 

'My dear, ' she whispered, 'who was that?'

'One of your dominoes, Madame. Acted with a good deal ofspirit, didn't you think so?'

'Magnifique! But that was none of _my_ dominoes. My dear, youwill never know how lovely your representation was. But, thatinterruption was no part of our play, as we had planned it. How came it? Who was it? Somebody who made play to suithimself? How came it, Hazel?'

'Just what I have been trying to find out, ' said the girl. 'Ishall not rest till I do. ' But she moved off then, and keptmoving, and was soon too well taken possession of for manyquestions to reach her. All of her audience but two or three, took the interruption for part of the play, and were loud intheir praises. Hearing and not hearing, muffled in thoughtsyet more than in serge, as an actor or spectator the Witch ofEndor saw the charades through, and played with her supper, and finally went out to her carriage and the dark world ofnight. For there was no moon this time, and stars areuncertain things. 

As Stuart Nightingale came back from putting her into thecarriage, he encountered his aunt. 

'Well!' he said in an impatient voice, smothered as it was, 'that job's all smoke. '

'Who was it?'

'That infernal meddler, of course. '

'Rollo?'

'Who else would have dared?'

'How did he get in?'

'That you ought to know better than I. It was no fault ofmine. '

'Rollo!' said Mme. Lasalle. 'And I thought I had cleverly kepthim out. The tickets were not transferable. Did she let himin?'

'Not she. No doing of hers, nor liking, I promise you. I thinkhe has settled his own business, by the way. But we can't trythis on a second time, Aunt Victorine. Confound him!'

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

IN A FOG. 

Hazel was accompanied to her carriage of course, as usual. Butwhen she was shut in, she heard an unwelcome voice saying tothe coachman, 'Drive slowly, Reo; the night is very dark;' andimmediately the carriage door was opened again, and thespeaker took his seat beside her; without asking leave thistime. A passing glare from the lamps of another carriageshewed her head and hands down on the window-sill, in the wayshe had come from Greenbush. Neither head nor hands stirrednow. 

Her companion was silent and let her be still, until thecarriage had moved out of the Moscheloo grounds and wasquietly making its way along the dark high road. Lamps flungsome light right and left from the coach box; but within thedarkness was deep. The reflection from trees and bushes, thegleam of fence rails, the travelling spots of illumination inthe road, did not much help matters there. 

'Miss Hazel, ' said Rollo, --and he spoke, though very quietly, with a sort of breath of patient impatience, --'I have come withyou to-night because I could not let you drive home alone sucha dark night, and because I have something to say to you whichwill not bear to wait a half-hour longer. Can you listen tome?'

'I am listening, sir, ' she said, again in a sort of dullpassiveness. 'May I keep this position? I think I must betired. '

'Are you very angry with me?' he asked gently. 

'No, ' she said in the same tone. 'I believe not. I wish Icould be angry with people. It is the easiest way. '

'If you are not angry, give me your hand once more. '

'Are we to execute any further gyrations?'

'Give it to me, and we will see. '

Rather hesitatingly, one white glove came from the window-sill, within his reach. 

'You are a queer person!' she said. 'You will neither giveorders nor make me execute them, without having hold of myhand! Are you keeping watch of my pulse, so as to stop intime?'

He made no answer to that, nor spoke at all immediately. Hishand closed upon the little white glove, and keeping it so, hepresently said gravely, 'You and I ought to be good friends, Hazel, on severalaccounts;--because your father and mother were good friends ofmine, --and because I love you very dearly. '

A slight motion of her part, --he could not tell whether shestarted, or what it was, --changed instantly to a breathlessstillness. Only a timid stir of the hand, as if it meant toslip away unnoticed. But it was held too firmly for that. 

'I don't know whether you know yet, ' he went on after a slightpause, 'what it is to love anybody very dearly. I remember youtold Gyda one day that you had never loved any one so sinceyour mother. Certainly I have never had a right to flattermyself that _I_ had been able to teach you what it means. If Iam mistaken, --tell me. '

'Easy work!'--she might have answered again, --to tell him whatshe had never told herself. And particularly nice of him tochoose such a place for his inquiries, where there was nopossible way of exit (for her) but the coach window. What hadhe never tried to teach her, except to mind? And of course shenever knew anything about--anything! But there Hazel shiftedher ground, and felt herself growing frightened, and certainlywished her new guardian a hundred miles away. What did hemean?--was he only sounding her, as Mr. Falkirk did sometimes?If so, he might just find out for himself!--With which clearview of the case, Wych Hazel set her foot (mentally) on alltroublesome possibilities, and sat listening to hear her hearbeat; and wondered how many statements of fact Mr. Rollo wasgoing to make, and at what point in the list truth wouldoblige her to start up and confront him?

He had paused a little, to give room for the answer he did notexpect. Seeing it came not, with a slight hastily drawn breathhe went on again. 

'In the mean time you have heard what you never ought to haveheard, --or not for a long time; and through the same goodagency other people have heard it too; and you are placed in aposition almost to hate the sight of me, and shrink from thesound of my name; and you are looking upon your father's willas binding you to a sort of slavery. I am not going to standthis a minute longer. 

'Hazel--unless you can love me dearly, my privileges asguardian would be of no use to me. I would not take advantageof them if I could. I would not have you on any other terms. And I certainly am not going to be a clog upon your happiness. I have made up my mind to keep my office, nominally, for oneyear; practically I mean to leave you very much to Mr. Falkirk. I will keep it for a year. At the end of the year, you shall tell me whether I shall give it up or keep itlonger. But if longer, it will be for ever. And I warn you, ifyou give it to me then, it will be a closer and sweeterguardianship than you have had yet, Hazel. I will keep what Ilove, so dearly and absolutely as I love her. But I shall notspeak to you again on this subject until the year's end. Youneed not be afraid. I mean to see you and to let you see me;but you will hear no more about this till the time comes. '

No answer, even then, only the trembling of the little hand. Dark as it was, she turned her head yet more away, laying herother cheek upon the window. 

'Are we friends now?' he said somewhat lower. 

'Mr. Rollo'--she began. But the tremor had found its way to thegirl's voice, and she broke off short. 

'Well?' said he. 'That is one of the parties. I meant, Mr. Rollo and Hazel. '

'Be quiet!' she said impatiently, --'and let me speak. ' But whatHazel wanted to say, did not immediately appear. 

He answered by a clasp of her hand, and waited. 

'I am quiet, '--he suggested at length. 

The girl made a desperate effort, and lifted up her head, andsat back in her place, to answer; but managing her voice verymuch like spun glass, which might give way in the using; andevidently choosing her words with great care, every now andthen just missing the wrong one. 

'You go on making statements, ' she said, catching her breath, 'and I--have taken up none of them, because I cannot, --becauseif, --I mean, I have let them _all_ pass, Mr. Rollo. '--If truthdemanded a greater sacrifice just then, it could not bebecause this one was small. 

'I know, ' he answered. 'Will you do better now? What mistakehas your silence led me into, or left me in?'

'I said nothing about mistakes. And I always do as well as Ican at first, ' said Hazel, with a touch of the sameimpatience. 

'My statements did not call for an answer. But I am going tosay some other things to which I do want an answer. Shall I goon?'

'You know what they are, ' she said. 

'I want you, ' he went on, speaking slowly and deliberately, 'to give me your promise that you will not waltz any moreuntil the year is out that I spoke of. '

She answered presently, speaking in a measured sort of way, 'That is one thing. The other?'

'I want your promise to the first. '

'Suppose I am not ready to give it?'

'I ask for it, all the same. '

Again she sorted her words. 

'Well then--I am not ready, --I mean, not willing. And do not yousee--at least, I mean, you do not see--how--unreasoning a requestit is?' The adjective gave her some trouble. 

'Not unreasonable?'

'I said nothing about reasonable. '

'No. But I must have your promise. If you knew the worldbetter, it would not be necessary for me to make the request;I know that; but the fact that you are--simple as a wild lily, --does not make me willing to see the wild lily lose any of itscharm. Neither will I, Hazel, as long as I have the care ofit. So long as you are even in idea mine, no man shall--touchyou, again, as I saw it last night! You are precious to mebeyond such a possibility. Give me your promise. '

'You shall not talk to me so!' she cried, shrinking off in theold fashion. 'I will not let you! You have done it before. AndI tell you that I never--touch anybody--except with the tip endof my glove!'

'No more than the wild lily does. But, Hazel, no one shall_touch the lily_, while I have care of it!' He spoke in the lowtone of determination. Hazel did not answer. 

'Promise me!' he said again, when he found that she wassilent. 

'By your own shewing it is hardly needed, ' she said. 'Isuppose obedience will do as well. '

'Let it be a matter of grace, not of obligation. '

'There is some grace in obedience. Why do you want a promise?'

'To make the matter certain. Else you may be tempted, orcajoled, into what--if you knew better--you would never do. Youwill know better by and by. Meanwhile I stand in the way. Come! give me the promise!'

There was a little bit of laugh at that, saying variousthings. 

'I shall not be cajoled, ' she said. 'But I will not makepromises. '

'How then will you make me secure that what I do not wishshall not be done?'

'It is not a matter about which I am anxious, sir, ' said MissWych coolly. 

'I am not anxious, ' he said very quietly, 'because one way oranother I will be secure. Do you think I can hold you in myheart as I do, and suffer other men to approach you as I sawit last night? Never again, Hazel!'

Dead silence on the lady's part; this 'mixed-up' style ofremark being, as she found, extremely hard to answer. 

'What shall I do?' he said gently. 

'About what, sir?'

'Making myself secure?'

'I do not know, ' said Wych Hazel. 'No suggestion occurs to methat would be worth your consideration. '

'I spoke to you once, some time ago, on the abstract groundsof the question we have under discussion. These, being only awild lily, you did not comprehend. You do not love me, or youwould give me my promise fast enough on other grounds. Youleave me a very difficult way. You leave me no way but to takemeasures to remove you from temptation. Is not that lesspleasant, Hazel, than to give me the promise?'

She was silent for several minutes; not pondering thequestion, but fighting the pain. To be _forced_ into anything, --to have _him_ take that tone with her!--

'How will you do it?' she said. 

He hesitated and then answered gently, 'You need not ask me that. You will not make it necessary. '

'Not ask?' said Wych Hazel rousing up. 'Of course I ask! Doyou expect to frighten me off my feet with a mere impersonal"it"?'--Then with a laugh which somehow told merely of pain, she added: 'You might cut short my allowance, and stint me inslippers, --only that unfortunately the allowance is a fixedfact. '

'I did not mean to threaten, ' he said in a voice thatcertainly spoke of pain on his own part. 'Is it so much topromise, Hazel?'

'You did do it, however, ' said the girl, --'but we will passthat. Everything is "much" to promise. And why I refuse, Mr. Rollo, is not the question. But it seems to me, that while myfather might command me, on my allegiance, to give such apromise, no delegated authority of his can reach so far. I mayfind myself mistaken. '

'Do me justice, ' he said. 'I did not command a promise; I suedfor it. The protection the promise was to throw around you, Iwill secure in other ways if I must. But do not forget, Hazel, why I do it. '

'I do not believe you know, ' said the girl excitedly. ' "Wildlilies?"--why, even wild elephants are not usually required totie their own knots. What comes next? I should like to havethe whole, if possible, before I get home--which seems likelyto be about breakfast time. '

'Reo is driving as fast as he ought to drive, such a night. What do you mean by "what comes next"?'

'You said, I thought, you had several things to speak of. '

'I remember. I was going to ask you to go to see Gydasometimes. '

'That is already disposed of--if I am to be allowed to gonowhere, ' said Hazel, with a rush of pain which very nearlygot into her voice. 'The next, Mr. Rollo?'

'I think, nothing next. You know, ' he went on, speaking halflightly, and yet with a thread of tender persuasion in hisvoice, 'you know that next year you can dispose of me. Seeingthat in the mean while you cannot help yourself, would it notbe better to give me the assurance that for this year you willforego the waltz? and let things go on as they are? Field micealways make the best of circumstances. '

'All summer, ' she answered, 'you have not even taken thetrouble to forbid me! And now, forbidding will not do, but youmust use threats. They might at least wait until I haddisobeyed. '

'That is a very distant view of me indeed!' said Rollo. 'Details are lost. I will get you a lorgnette the next time Igo anywhere. '

'You had better, ' said Hazel, not stopping to weigh her wordsthis time, 'for such distance does not lend enchantment. '--After which the silence on her part became rather profound. 

'No, ' said Rollo dryly, 'I see it does not. What will you doby and by, when you are sorry for having treated me so thisevening?'

'I daresay I shall find out when the time comes. '--

She leaned her head back against the carriage, wantingdreadfully to get home, and put it down, and think. She couldnot think with her hand held fast in that fashion, --and shecould not get it away, without making a fuss and so drawingattention to the fact that it was not in her own keeping. Oneor two slight efforts in that direction had been singularlyfruitless. So she sat still, puzzling over questions whichhave perplexed older heads than hers. As, how you can have athing given you, and yet not seem to possess it, --and whypeople cannot say words to give you pleasure, without at onceadding others to give you pain. What had she done? Mr. Falkirkwould have thought her a miracle of obedience these last twonights; she even wondered at herself. How she had enjoyed herhome this summer! --it seemed to her that she loved every leafupon every tree. What could he mean by 'remove'? And here along, deep sigh so nearly escaped her lips, that she sat upagain in sudden haste, erect as before; but feelingunmistakably lonely, and just a little bit forlorn. 

Perhaps her companion's thoughts had come on one point near tohers; for he gently put the little white glove back upon herlap and left it there. His words went back to her last ones, though after a minute's interval. 

'It will come, ' he said confidently. 'All the field mice of myacquaintance are true and tender. _When_ it comes, Hazel, willyou do me justice?'

She stirred uneasily, and once or twice essayed to speak, anddid not make it out. This way of taking things for granted, and on such made ground laying out railroads and runningtrains, was very confusing. Hazel felt as if the air were fullof mistakes, and none of them within her reach. When at lastshe did speak, plainly she had laid hold of the easiest. Thewords came out abruptly, but in one of her sweet bird-liketones. 

'Mr. Rollo--I am not the least imaginable bit like a fieldmouse!'

'In what respect?'

'These nice, tender people that you know'--she went on. 'Ibelieve I am true. '

It might have been some pressure of the latter fact, that madeher go on after a moments pause; catching her breath a little, as if to go on was very disagreeable, speaking quick and low;correcting herself here and there. 

'I wish you would stop saying--all sorts of things, Mr. Rollo. Because they are not true. Some of them. And--I do notunderstand you. Sometimes. And I do not know what you mean bymy doing you justice. Because--I always did--I think, --and I havenot "treated you, " at all, to-night. '

With which Hazel leaned head and hands down upon the windowagain, and looked out into the dark night. Would they ever gethome?--But it was impossible to drive faster. A thick fogfilled the air, and it was intensely dark. 

'I have been telling you that I love you. That you do notquite understand. I am bound not to speak on the subject againfor a whole year. But supposing that in the meantime youshould come to the understanding of it, --and suppose you findout that I have given field mice a just character;--will you dome the justice to let me find it out? And in the meantime, --weshall be at Chickaree presently, --perhaps you will give me, ina day or two, the assurance I have begged of you, and notdrive me to extremities. '

'Very well!' she said, raising her head again, --'if you willhave it in that shape! But the worth of an insignificant thingdepends a little upon the setting, and the setting of myrefusal was much better than the setting of my compliance. There is no grace whatever about this. And take notice, sir, that if you had gone to "extremities, " you would have drivenyourself. I always have obeyed, and always should. But I givethe promise!'--and her head went down again, and her eyeslooked straight out into the fog. 

He said 'Thank you!' earnestly, and he said no more. There isno doubt but he felt relieved; at the same time there is nodoubt but Mr. Rollo was a mystified man. That her compliancehad no grace about it was indeed manifest enough; the grace ofher refusal was further to seek. He deposited the little ladyof Chickaree at her own door with no more words than a 'good-night;' and went the rest of his way in the fog alone. And ifWych Hazel had suffered some annoyance that evening, her youngguardian was not without his share of pain. It was rathersharp for a time, after he parted from her. Had the work ofthese weeks, and of his revealed guardianship, and of hisexercise of office, driven her from him entirely? He lookedinto the question, as he drove home through the fog. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

DODGING. 

It was no new thing for the young lady of Chickaree to comehome late, and dismiss her attendants, and put herself to bed;neither was it uncommon for her to sleep over breakfast timein such cases, and take her coffee afterwards in Mrs. Bywank'sroom alone. But when the fog had cleared away, the morningafter Mme. Lasalle's ball, and the sun was riding high, andstill no signs of Miss Wych, then Mrs. Bywank went to herroom. And the good housekeeper was much taken aback to findpeasant dress and grey serge curled down together in a heap onthe floor, and Miss Wych among them, asleep with her head in achair. Perhaps that in itself was not so much; but the longeyelashes lay wet and heavy upon her cheek, --and Mrs. Bywankknew that token of old. 

I am afraid some hard thoughts about Mr. Rollo disturbed hermind, as she stood there looking. What use had he made of histicket to distress her darling?--she such a mere child, and hewith his mature twenty-five years? But Mrs. Bywank did notdare to ask, even when the girl stirred and woke and rose up;though the ready flush, and the unready eyes, and the gravemouth, went to her very heart. She noted, too, that her younglady went into no graphic descriptions of the ball, as was herwont; but merely bade Phoebe take away the two fancy dresses, and ensconced herself in a maze of soft white folds, and thenwent and knelt down by the open window; leaning her elbowsthere, and her chin on her hands. Mrs. Bywank waited. 

'Miss Wych, ' she began after a while, --'my dear, you have hadno breakfast. '

'I want none. '

'But you will have some lunch?'

'No. '

'My dear, --you must, ' said Mrs. Bywank. 'You will be sick, MissWych. '

'Don't _you_ say "must" to me, Byo!' said the girl impetuously. But then she started up and flung her arms round Mrs. Bywankand kissed her, and said, 'Come, let's have some lunch, then!'--giving half-a-dozen orders to Phoebe as she went along. But the minute lunch was over, Wych Hazel stepped into hercarriage and drove away. Not the landau this time, through theSeptember day was fair and soft; neither was the young ladyarrayed in any wise for paying visits; her white cloud ofmorning muslin and lace, her broad gipsy hat, and gauntletscaught up and carried in her hand, not put on, --so she bestowedherself in the close carriage which generally she used only bynight. And the low-spoken orders to Reo were, to take her aroad she had never been, and drive till she told him to stop. Then she threw herself back against the cushions, and buriedher face in hands, and tried to think. 

If _that_ was to leave her 'practically to Mr. Falkirk, ' herknowledge of English was somewhat deficient. And if belongingto somebody merely 'in idea' had such results!--but she was shyof the 'idea, ' blushing over it there all by herself as shepushed it away. She was disappointed, there was no doubt aboutthat. Foiled of her plan, over which she had pleased herself;for she had intended to give a 'no' instead of a 'yes' at theright place in the charade, to the discomfiture of allparties;--curbed by a strong hand, which she never could bear;hurt and sorrowful that nobody would trust her with even thecare of her own womanhood. 

'I wonder what there is about me?' she cried to herself, withtwo or three indignant tears rushing up unbidden. 'As if I hadnot had a sharper lesson the other night than any _he_ couldgive!'--No, quite that; the sharpest dated further back; butthis would have been enough of itself. And what else was sheto do or not do?--she took down her hands, and crossed them, and looked at them as she had done before the picture of the'loss of all things. ' These bonds did not feel like those; shedid not like them, none the less;--and--she wondered what washis idea of _close_ guardianship? And had he made anymisstatements?--Reo drove on and on, till his practised eye sawthat to get home by tea-time was all that was left, and thenstopped and got permission to turn round. 

But driving seemed to have become a sudden passion with MissWych. She kept herself out, somewhere, somehow, day after day;denied of course to all visitors, and of small avail to Mr. Falkirk, except to pour out his coffee. Miss Kennedy was indanger of creating a new excitement; being always out and yetnever visible; for one entertainment after another went by, and brought only her excuses. 

Either the driving fever cooled, however, or Wych Hazel foundout at last that even thoughts may be troublesome company; forshe began suddenly to surround herself with invited guests;and one or two to breakfast, and three to dinner, and six totea, became the new order of things for Mr. Falkirk'sdelectation. Some favoured young ladies even stayed over nightsometimes, and then they all went driving together. Mr. Falkirk frowned, and Mrs. Bywank smiled; and cards accumulatedto a fearful extent in the hall basket at Chickaree. 

Rollo among others had been discomfited, by finding the younglady invisible, or, what was the same thing for his purpose, visible to too many at once. This state of things lasted sometime, but in the nature of things could not last for ever. There came a morning, when Mr. Falkirk was the only visitor atthe Chickaree breakfast table, and just as Mr. Falkirk'scoffee was poured out, Dingee announced his co-guardian. 

Well--she knew it had to come; but she could have found in herheart to execute summary justice on Dingee for theannouncement, nevertheless. Nobody saw her eyes, --and nobodycould help seeing her cheeks; but all else that transpired wasa very reserved:

'Good morning, Mr. Rollo. You are just in time to enliven Mr. Falkirk's breakfast, over which he ran some risk of going tosleep. '

Perhaps Mr. Rollo had a flashing question cross his mind, whether he had not missed something through lack of a hunter'spatience the other night; but he was too much of a hunter todo anything but make the best of circumstances. He shook handsin precisely his usual manner; remarking that Mr. Falkirk hadnot had a ride of four miles; took his breakfast like a manwho had; and only towards the close of breakfast suddenlyturned to his hostess and asked, 'How does Jeannie Deansbehave?'

Apparently Hazel's thoughts had not been held fast by thepolitics under discussion, for she had gone into a deep gravemeditation. 

'Jeannie Deans?' she said, with her face flushing all upagain. 'Why--very well. The last time I rode her. '

'When was that?'

'Monday, I think, was the day of the week; but I suppose shewould have behaved just as well if it had been Tuesday. '

'Then probably she would have no objection to Wednesday?'

'Other things being comfortable, ' said Wych Hazel, stillkeeping her eyes to herself. 

'Do you mean, that you and she are in such sympathy, that ifshe does not behave well you know the reason?'

'I never sympathize with anybody's ill-behaviour but my own, 'said Hazel, 'if that is what you mean. '

'I meant, ' said Rollo with perfect gravity, 'that perhaps shesympathized with _yours?_'

'It occurs to me in this connection--talking of behaviour, '--said Miss Kennedy, 'that I had a question to ask of you twogentlemen, which it may save time--and trouble-- to state whileyou are both together. Are you attending to me, sir?' sheasked, looking straight over at her other guardian now, --'orhas your mind gone off to: "Grand Vizier certainlystrangled"?'

'My mind never goes off when you begin to state questions, Miss Hazel; knowing that it will probably have work enough athome. '

'This one is extremely simple, sir. Why, when you both agreedthat I should have neither saddle-horse nor pony for my ownindividual use, did you not tell me so at once? Instead ofkeeping me all summer in a state of hope deferred anddisappointment in hand?'

'Shall I take the burden of explanation on myself, sir?' askedRollo. 

'If you like. It lies on you properly, ' said Mr. Falkirk, inanything but an amiable voice. 

'Then may I order up Jeannie for you?' Rollo went on with asmile, to Wych Hazel; 'and I will explain as we go along. '

'That is to say, there is no explanation, but just the one Ihad made out for myself. Mr. Falkirk, did I ever practise anyunderhand dealings with you?' she said. 

'Don't begin to do it with me, ' said Rollo. 'Suppose you puton your habit, and in half an hour we'll have it all out onthe road. '

'Your respective ancestors must have been invaluable in theold Salem times, ' said the young lady, arching her brows alittle. 'In these days I think truth should win truth. ' Withwhich expression of opinion Miss Wych whistled for a freshglass of water and dismissed the subject. Not without asmothered sigh, however. 

'I did not understand, ' said Rollo, 'that expression ofrespect for our ancestors. '

'Naturally. As I expressed none. But I remember--you belongacross the sea; where witchcraft probably is unknown, and sois never dealt with. '

'What would you give as the best manner of dealing with it?'Rollo inquired with admirable command of countenance. 

'I suppose I should let them go their way. But then, being oneof the guild, I of course fail to see the danger; and cannotappreciate the mild form of fear which has shadowed Mr. Falkirk for ten years past, nor the sharper attack which hassuddenly seized Mr. Rollo. ' She could keep her face too, looking carelessly down and poising her teaspoon. 

'What becomes of your kitten, when you are suddenly made awarethat there are strange dogs about?' said Rollo again, eyeingher. 

'My kitten, indeed!'--said Hazel, with just so much stir of hercomposure as recognized the look which yet she did not see. 'Did you ever hear of a dog's cajoling a cat, Mr. Rollo?'

'Did _you_ never hear of puss in a corner?'

'Yes, ' she said. 'You would not think it, but I am very goodat that. '

'You are very good at something else, ' said he smiling. 'Willyou permit me to remind you, that I have not yet had thehonour of an answer to my inquiry whether your witchship willride this morning?'

If Mr. Falkirk had been away, it is not sure what she wouldhave answered; but Hazel had no mind to draw out even silentcomments from him. So she gave a hesitating answer that yetgranted the appeal. Then wished the next moment she had notgiven it. Would she need most courage to take it back, or togo on?

'If you will excuse me, then, I will go and see to the horses. I leave you, Mr. Falkirk, to defend yourself! I have beenunable to decoy the enemy. '

With which he went off. Mr. Falkirk's brows were drawn prettyclose. 

'Miss Hazel, I should like to be told, now that we are alone, in what way I have failed to meet "truth with truth"?'

'My dear sir, how you do scowl at me!' said Miss Hazel, retaking her easy manner, now that _her_ enemy was away. 'I onlyused the word in a popular sense. If I never misled _you_, thenyou had no right to mislead _me_. '

'How were you misled, Miss Hazel?'

'I supposed, being somewhat simple-minded, that the reasonhorse, pony, and basket wagon did not appear, was that theycould not be found, sir. It shews how ignorant I am of theworld still, I must acknowledge. '

'I have no opinion of ponies and basket wagons, ' said herguardian. 'And I do not know how well you can drive. And youare too young, Miss Hazel, and too--well, you are too young tobe allowed to drive round the world by yourself. WhenCinderella, no, when Quickear, sets off to seek her fortune, she goes fast enough in all nature without a pony. '

'There are just two little faults in your statement, sir, considered as an answer. I never was fast'--said Miss Hazel, --'but trying to hoodwink me is not likely to make me slow, '--andshe went off to don her habit and gather herself up for theride. 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

A COTTON MILL. 

As she came to the side door, she saw Rollo just dismountingfrom Jeannie Deans, and immediately preparing to remove hissaddle and substitute the side-saddle; which he did with thecare used on a former occasion. But Jeannie had raised herhead and given a whinny of undoubted pleasure. 

'Let her go, Mr. Rollo, ' whispered Lewis. 

And so released, the little brown steed set off at once, walking straight to the verandah steps, pausing there andlooking up to watch Hazel, renewing her greeting in lowertones, as if _this_ were private and confidential. Hazel randown the steps, and made her fingers busy with bridle andmane, giving furtive caresses. Only when she was mounted, andRollo had turned, his ear caught the sound of one or twolittle soft whispers that were meant for Jeannie's ears alone. 

Perhaps the gentleman wanted to give Wych Hazel's thoughts aconvenient diversion; perhaps he wished to get upon some safecommon ground of interest and intercourse; perhaps he purposedto wear off any awkwardness that might embarrass their mutualgood understanding; for he prefaced the ride with a series ofinstructions in horsemanship. Mr. Falkirk had never let hisward practise leaping; Rollo knew that; but now, and with Mr. Falkirk looking on, he ordered up the two grooms with a bar, and gave Wych Hazel a lively time for half an hour. A goodsolid riding lesson, too; and probably for that space of timeat least attained all his ends. But when he himself wasmounted, and they had set off upon a quiet descent of theChickaree hill, out of sight of Mr. Falkirk, all Wych Hazel'sshyness came back again; hiding itself behind reserve. Rollowas in rather a gay mood. 

'It is good practice, ' he said. 'Did you ever go through acotton mill?'

'Never. '

'How would you like to go through one to-day?'

'Why--I do not know. Very well, I daresay. '

So with this slight and doubtful encouragement, Rollo againtook the way to Morton Hollow. It was early October now; themaples and hickories showing red and yellow; the air awonderful compound of spicy sweetness and strength; the heavenover their heads mottled with filmy stretches of cloud, whichseemed to float in the high ether quite at rest. A day for allsorts of things; good for exertion, and equally inviting oneto be still and think. 

'How happens it you have let Jeannie stand still so long?'Rollo asked presently. 

'I have not wanted to ride her, --that is all. '

'Would you like her better if she were your own?' he saidquite gently, though with a keen eye directed at Wych Hazel'sface. 

'No. Not now. ' The 'now' slipped out by mistake, and mightmean either of two things. Rollo did not feel sure what itmeant. 

'Did you ever notice, ' he said after a few minutes again, 'howdifferent the clouds of this season are from those of othertimes of the year? Look at those high bands of vapour lyingalong towards the south; they seem absolutely poised andstill. Clouds in spring and summer are drifting, or flying, ordispersing, or gathering: earnest and purposeful; with work todo, and hurrying to do it. Look at those yonder; they are atrest, as if all the work of the year were done up. I thinkthey say it is. '

The fair grave face was lifted, shewing uncertainty throughthe light veil; and she looked up intently at the sky, almostwondering to herself if there _had_ been clouds in the springand early summer. She hardly seemed to remember them. 

'Is that what they say to you?' she said dreamily. 'They lookto me as if they were just waiting, --waiting to see where thewind will rise. '

'But the wind does not rise in October. They will lie there, on the blessed blue, half the day. It looks to me like therest after work. '

She glanced at him. 

'I do not know much about work, ' she said. 'What I suppose youwould call work. It has not come into my hands. '

'It has not come into mine, ' said Rollo. 'But can there berest without work going before it?'

'Such stillness?' she said, looking up at the white flecksagain. 'But according to that, we do not either of us knowrest. '

'Well, ' said he smiling, 'I do not. Do you?'

'I used to think I did. What do you mean by rest, Mr. Rollo?'

'Look at those lines of cloud. They tell. The repose ofsatisfied exertion; the happy looking back upon work done, after the call for work is over. '

She looked up, and kept looking up; but she did not speak. Somehow the new combinations of these last weeks had made hersober; she did not get used to them. The little wayward scrapsof song had been silent, and the quick speeches did not come. 

'But then, ' Rollo went on again presently, 'then comes upanother question. What is work? I mean, what is work for suchpeople as you and I?'

'I suppose, ' said Hazel, 'whatever we find to do. '

'I have not found anything. Have you? Those clouds somehowseem to speak reproach to me. May be that is their business. '

'I have not been looking, ' said Hazel. 'You know I have beenshut up until this summer. But I should think you might havefound plenty, --going among people as you do. '

'What sort?'

'Different sorts, I suppose. At least if you are as good atmaking work for yourself in some cases as you are in others, 'she said with a queer little recollective gleam in her face. 'Did it never occur to you that you might set the worldstraight--and persuade its orbit into being regular?'

'No, ' said Rollo carelessly, 'I never undertake more than Ican manage. Here is a good place for a run. '

They had come into the long level lane which led to MortonHollow; and giving their horses the rein they swept throughthe October air in a flight which scorned the ground. When thebanks of the lane began to grow higher and to close in uponthe narrowing roadway, which also became crooked andirregular, they drew bridle again and returned to the earth. 

'Don't you feel set straight now?' said Rollo. 

'Thank you--no. '

'I am afraid you will give me some work to do, yet, ' said heaudaciously, and putting his hand out upon Wych Hazel's. 'Donot carry quite so loose a rein. Jeannie is sure, I believe, and you are fearless; but you should always let her know youare there. '

'Mr. Rollo--' said the girl hastily. Then she stopped. 

'What?' said Rollo innocently, riding close alongside andlooking her hard in the face. 'I am here. '

'Nothing. '

Then he changed his tone and said gently, 'What was it, MissHazel?'

'Something better unsaid. '

He was silent a minute, and went on gravely--

'You wanted to know why I interfered the other night as I did;and I promised, I believe, to explain it to you when I had anopportunity. I will, if you bid me; but I may do the peopleinjustice, and I would rather you took the view of anunprejudiced person--Mr. Falkirk, for instance. But if you wishit, I will tell you myself. '

'No, ' she said; 'I do not wish it. '

Rollo was quite as willing to let the matter drop; and in afew minutes more they were at the mill he had proposed tovisit. There they dismounted, the horses were sent on to thebend in the valley, beyond the mills; and presenting a pass, Rollo and Wych Hazel were admitted into the building, wherestrangers rarely came. One of the men in authority was knownto Mr. Rollo; he presented himself now, and with much civilityushered them through the works. 

They made a slow progress of it; full of interest, becausefull of intelligent appreciation. Perhaps, in the abstract, one would not expect to find a gay young man of the worldversed in the intricacies of a cotton mill; but however itwere, Rollo had studied the subject, and was now bent onmaking Wych hazel understand all the beautiful details of themachinery and the curiosities of the manufacture. This was anew view of him to his companion. He took endless pains tomake her familiar with the philosophy of the subject, as wellas its history. Patient and gentle and evidently not in theleast thinking of himself, his grey eyes were ever searchingin Wych Hazel's face to see whether she comprehended and howshe enjoyed what he was giving her. As to the relationsbetween them, his manner all the while, as well as during theride, was very much what it had been before the disclosuremade by Mrs. Coles had sent Wych Hazel off on a tangent ofalienation from him. Nothing could exceed the watch kept overher, or the care taken of her; and neither could make lessdemonstration. There was also the same quiet assumption ofher, which had been in his manner for so long; that also wasnever officiously displayed, though never wanting when therewas occasion. And now, in the mill, all these went along withthat courtier-like deference of style, which paid her all thehonour that manner could; yet it was the deference of one verynear and not of one far off. 

Wych Hazel for her part shewed abundant power of interest andof understanding, in their progress through the mill; quick tocatch explanations, quick to see the beauty of some fine bitof machinery; but very quiet. Her eyes hardly ever rose to thelevel of his; her questions were a little more free to theconductor than to him. Even her words and smiles to the millpeople seemed to wait for times when his back was turned, asif she were shy of in any wise displaying herself before him. 

Their progress through the mill was delayed further by Rollo'sinterest in the operatives. A rather sad interest this hadneed to be. The men, and the women, employed as hands in theworks, were lank and pale and haggard, or dark and coarse. Their faces were reserved and gloomy; eyes would not light up, even when spoken to; and Rollo tried the expedient prettyoften. Yet the children were the worst. Little things, andothers older, but all worn-looking, sadly pale, very hopeless, going back and forth at their work like so many parts of theinexorable machinery. Here Rollo now and then got a smile, that gleamed out as a rare thing in that atmosphere. On thewhole, the outer air seemed strange and sweet to the two whenthey came out into it, and not more sweet than strange. Wherethey had been, surely the beauty, and the freedom, and thepromise, of the pure oxygen and the blue heaven, were all shutout and denied and forgotten. 

'There is work for somebody to do, ' said Rollo thoughtfully, when the mill door was shut behind them. 

The girl looked at him gravely, then away. 

'Do all mill people look so?' she said. 'Or is it just MortonHollow?'

'They do not all look so. At least I am told this is a veryuncommon case for this country. Yet no doubt there are others, and it is not--"just Morton Hollow. " Suppose, for the sake ofargument, that all mill people look so; what deduction wouldyou draw?'

'Well, that I should like to have the mills, ' said Wych Hazel. 

They walked slowly on through the Hollow. The place was stilland empty; all the hands being in the mills; the buzz ofmachinery within, as they passed one, was almost the onlysound abroad. The cottages were forlorn looking places; setanywhere, without reference to the consideration whether spacefor a garden ground was to be had. No such thing as a realgarden could be seen. No flowers bloomed anywhere; no token oflife's comfort or pleasure hung about the poor dwellings. Poverty and dirt and barrenness; those three facts struck thevisitor's eye and heart. A certain degree of neatness andorder indeed was enforced about the road and the outside ofthe houses; nothing to give the feeling of the sweet realitywithin. The only person they saw to speak to was a womansitting at an open door crying. It would not have occurred tomost people that she was one 'to speak to'; however, Rollostepped a little out of the road to open communication withher. His companion followed, but the words were German. 

'What is the matter?' she asked as they turned to go on theirway. 

'Do you remember the girl that came to Gyda's that day youwere there? this is her mother. Tr�dchen, she says, has beensick for two weeks; very ill; she has just begun to sit up;and her father has driven her to mill work again this morning. The mother says she knows the girl will die. '

'Driven her to work!' said Hazel. 'What for?'

'Money. For her wages. '

'What nonsense!' said Hazel, knitting her brows. 'Why, I canpay that! Tell her so, please, will you? And tell her to sendTr�dchen down to Chickaree for Mrs. Bywank and me to cure herup. She will never get well here. '

Rollo gave a swift bright look at his companion, and then madethree leaps up the bank to the cottage door. He came downagain smiling, but there was a suspicious veiling of his sharpeyes. 

'She will cry no more to-day, ' he remarked to Wych Hazel. 'Andnow you have done some work. '

'Have I?'--with a half laugh. 'But instead of wanting to rest, I feel like doing some more. So you have made a mistakesomewhere, Mr. Rollo. '

There came as she spoke, a buzz of other voices, issuing fromanother mill just before them; voices trained in the highernotes, and knowing little of the minor key. And forth from theopening door came a gay knot of people, --feathers and flowersand colours, with a black coat here and there; one of whichmade a short way to Miss Kennedy's side. 

'Where have you been?' said Captain Lancaster, after acourteous recognition of Mr. Rollo. 'You have been driving usall to despair?'

'People that are driven to despair never go, ' said Wych Hazel;'so you are all safe. '

'And you are all yourself. That is plain. Why were you not atFox Hill? But you are coming to Valley Garden to-morrow?'

'I think not. At least, I am sure not. '

'Then to the ball at Crocus?'

'No. '

'My dear Hazel!' and 'My dear Miss Kennedy!' now sounded fromso many female voices in different keys of surprise andtriumph, that for a minute or two the hum wasindistinguishable. Questions came on the heels of one anotherincongruously. Then as the gentlemen fell together in a knotto discuss their horses, the tongues of the women had a littlemore liberty than was good for them. 

'You have been riding, Hazel; where are your horses?'

'Where have you been?'

'O, you've been going over a mill! A _cotton_ mill? Horrid! Whatis the fun of a cotton mill? what did you go there for?'

'What sort of a mill have you been over?' said Hazel. 

'O, the silk mill. Such lovely colours, and cunning littlesilk-winders, --it's so funny! But where have you been all thisage, Hazel? you have been nowhere. '

'I know what has happened, ' said Josephine Powder, lookinghalf vexed and half curious, --'you needn't tell _me_ anything. When a lady sees almost nobody and goes riding with the rest, we know what _that_ means. It's transparent. '

'I wouldn't conclude upon it, Hazel, ' said another lady. 'Aman that had got a habit of command by being one's guardian, you know, wouldn't leave it off easy. Would he, Mrs. Powder?'

'Are we to congratulate you, my dear?' asked the ex-Governor'slady, with a civil smile, and an eye to the answer. 

'Really, ma'am, I see no present occasion?' said Hazel, withmore truth than coolness. 

'She sees no occasion!' cried Josephine. 'Well, I shouldn'teither in her place. ' (Which was a clear statement that grapeswere sour. ) 'Poor child! Are you chained up for good, Hazel?'

'Hush, Josephine?' said her mother, who was a well-bred woman;such women _can_ have such daughters now-a-days. And she went onto invite Hazel to join a party that were going in theafternoon to visit a famous look-out height, called BeaconHill. She begged Hazel to come for luncheon, and the excursionafterwards. 

'Do say yes, please!' said Captain Lancaster, turning from theother group. 'You have said nothing but no for the lastmonth. '

'Well, if being a negative means that one is not also apositive--' Hazel began. 

'And then, oh Miss Kennedy, ' broke in Molly Seaton, 'there'sthis new Englishman!--'

'A new Englishman!--'

'Yes, ' said Molly, unconscious why the rest laughed, 'and he'sseen you at church. And he has vowed he will not go home tillhe has seen you in the German. '

'Has he?' said Hazel. 'I hope he likes America. '

They gathered round her at that, in a breeze of laughter andentreaty, till her shy gravity gave way, and Mr. Rollo's earswere saluted by such a musical laugh as he had not heard formany a day. 

'He'll be here presently, ' said Molly. 'He's up in the millwith Kitty Fisher. So you can ask him yourself, Miss Kennedy. '

Rollo heard, and purposely held himself a little back, andcontinued a conversation he did not attend to; he would not bemore of a spoil-sport then he could help. 

'You'll come, won't you, Hazel?' said Josephine. 'I will bevery good if you will come. '

Hazel balanced probabilities for one swift second. 

'That is too large a promise, Phinny--I would not make it. ButI will come, thank you, Mrs. Powder. Only not to luncheon. Iwill drive over this afternoon, and meet you at the hill. '

'Why, here is our dear Duchess!' cried Kitty Fisher, rushingup. 'And where is the--ahem!--Mr. Rollo, I am delighted to seeyou. Miss Kennedy, allow me to present Sir Henry Crafton. '

Wych Hazel bowed, and turning towards Mr. Rollo, remarked thatif she was to come back, she must go. Rollo was also invitedto Beacon Hill, but excused himself; and he and Wych Hazelleft the others, to go forward to find their horses. 

On the ride home he made himself particularly pleasant;talking about matters which he contrived to present in veryentertaining fashion; ignoring the people and the insinuationsthey had left behind them in the Hollow, and drawing WychHazel, so far as he could, into a free meeting of him onneutral ground. They had another run through the lane; a goodtrot over the highway; and when they had entered the gate ofChickaree and were slowly mounting the hill, he spoke inanother tone. 

'Miss Hazel, don't you think you have done enough for to-day?'

'Made a good beginning. '

'Twenty-four miles on horseback--and a cotton mill! That isenough for one day, isn't it, for you?'

'Twenty-four, is it?' she said carelessly. 'Call it four, andmy feeling will not contradict you. '

'Very well. I want your feeling to remain in the same healthycondition. '

'It always does. '

'Beacon Hill will not run away. Leave that for another time. It is a good day's work for you, that alone. Suppose we gothere to-morrow?' said Rollo coolly, looking at his companion. 

'Well--if I like it well enough to-day. '

Dane was silent, probably feeling that his duty as MissKennedy's guardian was in the way of doing him very frequentdisservice. However he was not a man to be swayed by thatconsideration. He came close alongside of Jeannie Deans andlooked hard in Wych Hazel's face as he spoke, 'Do you think Mr. Falkirk would be willing to have you go to-day?'

'Why, of course!'

'I think he would not. And I think he ought not. '

'Mr. Falkirk never interferes with my strength or my fatigue!--'

'I shall not ask him. I take the matter on my ownresponsibility. '

She had thrown her veil back for a minute, and leaving thebridle on Jeannie's neck, both little hands were busy withsome wind-disturbed rings of hair. She put them down now andlooked round at him, --a look of great beauty; the girlishquestioning eyes too busy with him, for the moment, to beafraid. Could he mean that? was he really trying to head heroff in every direction?

'Are you in earnest?' she said slowly. 

His eyes went very deep into hers when they got the chance, carrying their own message too. He answered with a half smile, 'Thorough earnest. '

She drew back instantly, eyes and all; letting fall her veiland taking up her bridle. Except so, and by the sudden colour, giving no reply. She was learning her lesson fast, shethought, a little bitterly. Nevertheless, if people knew theexquisite grace there can be in submission, whether toauthority or to circumstances it may be they would practise itoftener. 

Not another word said Rollo. What was the use? She wouldunderstand him some day;--or she would not! in any case, wordswould not make it clear. Only when he took her down from herhorse he asked, and that was with a smile too, and a goodinquisition of the grey eyes, 'if he should come to take herto Beacon Hill to-morrow?'

'No, ' she said quietly. 'I think not. '

'When will you have another riding lesson?'

'I do not know, ' she said, with a tone that left the mattervery doubtful. 

'Well, ' said he, 'you may go to Beacon Hill without me. Butyou must not try leaping. Remember that. '

He did not go in. He remounted and rode away. 

CHAPTER XL. 

SOMETHING NEW. 

So Jeannie Deans went back into the stable, and carried herlight burden no more for some time. But Hazel did not go toBeacon Hill, in any fashion nor on any day; and it is to behoped Jeannie Deans was less restless than she. 

'Miss Wych--my dear!' said Mrs. Bywank in remonstrance; 'if youcannot sit still, why don't you go out? You are just wearingyourself pale in the house; and why, I do not see. '

'Nobody sees--' said the girl with a long breath. 'My wings areclipped, Byo, --that is all. '

'My dear!' Mrs. Bywank said again. 'I think you shouldn't talkso, Miss Wych. '

'Very likely not, ' said Hazel. But if ever I am a realrunaway, Byo, it will be for the sake of choosing my ownruler. So you can remember. '

'Miss Wych--' Mrs. Bywank began, gravely. Hazel came and flungherself down on the floor, and laid her head on the oldhousekeeper's lap. 

'O, I know!' she said. 'Why did they ever call me so, Byo? Ithink it hangs over me like a fate. Could they find no othername for their little brown baby but that? I can no more helpbeing a witch, than I can help breathing. '

The old housekeeper stroked the young head tenderly, softlyparting and smoothing down the hair. 

'They liked the name, my dear, ' she said. 'And so would you, if you could remember the tone in which Mrs. Kennedy used tosay: "My Wych!"--"My little Wych!"--'

Hazel sprang away as if the words had been a flight of arrows. 

And so the fall went on; and since Miss Kennedy would stay athome, perforce the world must come to see her there; and theold house at least sounded gay enough. And then society beganslowly to steal away to winter quarters. The two youngofficers went back to their posts, without even a hope (it wassaid) that might make them ever return again to theneighbourhood of Chickaree. And Mr. May sailed for Europe, having a gentle dismissal from the little hands for which hecared so much; and the Powders departed to ex-official duties;and Mme. Lasalle to town. The leaves fell, having done theirsweet summer duty far better than these rational creatures;and then Wych Hazel took to long early and late walks byherself, threading the leafless woods, and keeping out ofroads and choosing by-paths; wandering and thinking--both--morethan was good for her; and enjoying just one thing, the beingalone. 

Rollo all this while had kept the promise he made when he toldher that he would see her and meant she should see him. Hecame very frequently; he rode with her if she would ride, andtalked with her when she would talk; or he talked to Mr. Falkirk in her hearing. He sometimes gave her riding lessons. Whatever her mood, he was just himself; free, pleasant andwatchful of her; sometimes a little Spanish in his treatmentof her. Her clouds did not seem to put him in shadow. And shewould not always refuse a lesson, or a ride, or a talk, --it wasnot in her nature to be ungraceful or rough in any way; onlyit could not be said that she took pleasure in them, as acertain thing. They broke up the intolerable loneliness of herlife just then, but otherwise were not always a success. Constantly now expecting to be drawn back, or ordered back, asshe phrased it; expecting forbidden things at every turn; shedid not want to be alone with Mr. Rollo, nor to go with otherpeople where he might come. In fact, she did not quiteunderstand herself; and she grew more and more restless andeager to get away. 

'Why should we not go on Monday?' she asked Mr. Falkirk. 

'Go?' echoed her guardian. 'Are we to take up our travelsagain, my dear?'

'Did you suppose yourself settled for the winter, sir? Iexpect to go to town, like other people. '

'What are we to do when we get there?'

'Keep house, sir. You can take one-half the bricks, and I theother. Or any proportions that may suit your views, ' said MissHazel compliantly. 

Now Mr. Falkirk did not, it is true, understand the coursethings had taken for the last few weeks; he was only a man;and though Wych Hazel's guardian for many years might besupposed to hold a clue to her moods, this was what Mr. Falkirk failed to do in the present instance. But using hiswits as well as he was able, he had come to the conclusion, not without some secret gratification, that Miss Hazelpreferred the society of her old guardian to that of her newone. Certainly he was in no mind to cross her wish to go tothe city, if she had such a wish. However, mindful of hisduty, he mentioned her desire to Rollo, and asked if he hadany objection to it. Rollo was silent a minute, and then gavea frank 'No. ' And Mr. Falkirk wrote to make arrangements, andeven went himself to perfect them. And he lost no time; by theend of October the change was made, and Wych Hazel establishedin a snug little house in one of the best streets on MurrayHill. 

If Mr. Falkirk was misled before, his mind was not likely toclear up as the weeks went on. Whatever had come over hisward, she was unmistakably changed from her old self; as now, living in the house with her again, Mr. Falkirk could not failto perceive. Quiet steps, a gentle voice that quite ignoredits old bursts of singing; brown eyes that looked softlythrough things and people at something else; with a mooddocile because it did not care: but _that_ he did not know. Apparently she had not come to town for stir, --her going outwas of the quietest kind. Sometimes a specially fine concertwould tempt her; once in a while she made one of her radianttoilettes and went to a state dinner party, now and then to alunch or a kettle-drum; but balls and evening parties of everysort were invariably declined. Instead, she plunged intostudy, --went at German as if her life depended on it, took upher Italian again, and began to perfect herself in French. Read history, knit her brows over science, and sat and drew bythe hour. 

Of course society could not quite be baffled so: morningsbrought carriage after carriage, and evenings a run upon thedoor. Mr. Falkirk had little peace of his life, unless it werea reposeful thing for him to sit by and see the play. 

Between whiles this winter, Hazel did a great deal ofthinking: even German could not crowd it out. She knew, theminute she had said she would come to town, that she wishedsomething could step in and keep her at Chickaree; or at leastshe knew that she was leaving more there than she had countedupon; and the knowledge chafed her. It was all very well tolike--somebody--(name of course unknown)--to a certain degree;but when the liking made itself into bonds and ties andhindrances, then Miss Wych rebelled. She brought up all sortsof questions in the most unattractive shape, to find themsuited with answers that could find no reply. It was simplyunbearable, she urged upon herself, this being held in andwatched and restricted, --very unbearable! Only, somehow, theperson who did it all, was _not_. And the doubt whether lifewould be worth having, in such guardianship, started a moredifficult point: what would it be worth without? And themental efforts to shake herself into clear order, just seemed, as sometimes happens, to tie three knots where there was onebefore. 

'It will go after a while, ' she said, twisting herself aboutunder the new form of loneliness and unrest which possessedher when she got to town. And it did: deeper in. 

Mr. Falkirk, blind bat that he was (for a sharp-sighted man), was not discontented with his winter. He had Wych Hazel tohimself, and she gave him no more trouble than he liked by theforce of old associations. He watched the play in which shewas so prominent and so pretty a figure, and found it amusing. It seemed safe play, so far; the fort that he was set to keepseemed quite secure from any attacks that presentlythreatened; and Mr. Falkirk had no suspicion that its safetywas owing to a garrison within the walls. The outside he knewhe watched well. It was a very quiet winter, indeed, except atsuch times as Miss Kennedy's doors were open to all comers;but Mr. Falkirk did not find fault with that. He had neverbeen garrulous in his ward's company or in any other. Certainly he liked to hear _her_ talk; and he knew that shetalked far less than usual, when they were alone; but heargued with himself that Wych Hazel was growing older, wasseriously engaging herself in study, after other than aschool-girl's fashion; and that all this winter's developmentwas but the sweet maturing of the fruit which in growingmature was losing somewhat of its liveliness of flavour. 

They were alone one evening, rather past the middle of thewinter. It was not one of Miss Kennedy's at-home nights; andin a snug little drawing-room the two were seated on oppositesides of the tea service. A fire of soft coal burningluxuriously; thick curtains drawn; warm-coloured paperhangingson the walls; silver bright in the gaslight, and Mr. Falkirk'sevening papers ready at his hand. To-night Mr. Falkirk ratherneglected them, and seemed to be in a meditative mood. 

'Whereabouts are we in pursuit of our fortune, Miss Hazel?' heasked as he tasted his cup of hot tea. 

'Rather deep down in Schiller and Dante, Sir. '

'_Il Paradiso?_' asked Mr. Falkirk meaningly. 

'Pray do you call that "deep down"?' demanded Miss Hazel. 

'I am merely inquiring where you are, my dear. I have heard ofpeople's being over head and ears. '

'Only hearsay evidence, sir?' said Miss Hazel recklessly. Butthen she was not going to stand up and be shot at!

'I should like to know, merely as a satisfaction to my ownmind, whether the quest is ended, Miss Hazel? Has Cinderella'sglass slipper been fitted on? or has Quickear seized thesinging bird and the golden water?'

'Princes are scarce!' said the girl derisively, but notwithout a rising blush. 

'The true one not found yet, my dear?' said Mr. Falkirk withan amused glance across the table. 'What is to be our nextmove in search of him?'

'That is one way of putting it, ' said Wych Hazel. 'I shouldthink, sir, you had taken lessons of your devotee, MissFisher. '

'I am glad _you_ don't, ' said Mr. Falkirk earnestly. 'MissHazel, I should prefer that when _such_ princesses are in theparlour, Cinderella should keep to her kitchen. It is thecourt end in such a case. '

Kitty Fisher's name brought up visions. Hazel was silent. 

'Do you ever hear from Chickaree?' her guardian askedpresently. 

'No one to write, sir, but Mrs. Bywank, --and she, you know, isnot a scribe. I understand that the kitten is well. '

'That is important, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'She hasn't told youlately anything about your friend Rollo?'

'No, sir. Have you given up your share in his friendship?'inquired Miss Hazel. 

Mr. Falkirk made no answer to this query, and seemed to haveforgotten it presently in his musings. Hazel glanced at himfurtively, choosing her form of attack; for Mr. Falkirk'smanner seemed to say that he _had_ heard. 

'You always played into each other's hands so delightfully, sir, ' she began, with a very _d�gag�_ air, --'it is of coursenatural that he should keep you posted as to his own importantproceedings. And a little ungrateful in you, Mr. Falkirk, Imust say, to fling him off in this fashion. '

'I've nothing on my conscience respecting him, ' said Mr. Falkirk, eating his toast with a contented air. 'I'm not _his_guardian, nor ever was. '

'What a pity!' said Wych Hazel. 'Both of us together mighthave made your life more lively than my unassisted effortscould do. '

Mr. Falkirk grunted, and went on with his tea; and sent hiscup to be refilled. 

Hazel pondered. 

'You seem depressed, Mr. Falkirk, ' she said. 'Shall I give youan additional lump of sugar?'

Now Mr. Falkirk in truth seemed anything but depressed; and heraised his head to look at his questioner. 

'I am quite satisfied with things as they are, Miss Hazel. '

'Are you, sir? I am delighted!' said Hazel. 'But I never evensupposed such a thing possible. How are "things"--if I may beallowed to inquire?'

Some things are new, ' returned her guardian. 'And I should notbe satisfied with them, if they concerned me. Which I take forgranted they do not. I saw Dr. Arthur down town to-day; and hetold me some odd news about Rollo. ' Mr. Falkirk was finishinghis tea in a leisurely way, evidently _not_ thinking that thenews, whatever it was, concerned either of them seriously. 

'Why did you not bring Dr. Arthur home to tea?' inquired hisward. 

'I did not think of it, Miss Hazel. But he volunteered a visitin the course of the evening. '

'That will be delightful, --I like Dr. Arthur, ' said Hazel, feeling that somehow or other she must get a glimpse of hisnews before he came. 

'Well, if what he said gave you so much pleasure, why don'tyou repeat it to me, Mr. Falkirk, ' she ventured. 

'I do not remember that I said anything gave me pleasure, 'returned her guardian. 'This don't. By what he says, Rollo haslost his wits. I thought him a shrewd man of business; and hewas that, when your affairs were in his hand last summer; butif what Dr. Arthur tells me is true, and it must be, he hasdone a very strange thing with his own fortune. '

'Dear me! I hope he did not hurt himself looking after mine!'said Wych Hazel innocently. 'Are fortune and wits both inperil, Mr. Falkirk?'

'Not yours, I hope, ' said her guardian. 'I should be veryuneasy if I thought that. _I_ should have no power to interfere. The will gives him absolute control, supposing that he hadcontrol at all. '

Perhaps it was just as well that at this moment Dr. Arthur wasannounced. Alas, not only Dr. Arthur, but Mrs. Coles! AndHazel, giving greetings to one and welcome to the other;insisting that they should come to the tea table, late as itwas; went on all the while looking after her own wits andpicking up her energies with all speed. She had need; for theharmless-seeming eyes of Mrs. Coles were always to herneighbours' interests. Very graciously now they watched WychHazel. 

There was a great deal to talk about, in Miss Kennedy's houseand winter and engagements; and in Dr. Maryland's house, andPrimrose, and her school. An endless succession of points oftalk, that ought to have been very interesting, to judge bythe spirit with which they were discussed. All the while, WychHazel was watching for something else; and Prudentia, was shekeeping the best for the last? She was extremely affable; sheenjoyed her tea; she took off her bonnet and displayed thepale bandeaux of hair which were inevitably associated in MissKennedy's mind with one particular day and conversation; sheadmired the furniture; she discoursed on the advantages ofcity life. Dr. Maryland was, perforce, rather silent. 

'Well, Arthur dear, ' she said at last, taking her bonnet, 'wemust be going presently. What do you think of Dane, Mr. Falkirk?'

Mr. Falkirk did not answer intelligibly, though the lady'sface was turned full upon him; he uttered an inexplicable sortof grunt, and knotted his eyebrows. He didn't like Prudentia. 

'I never saw anybody so changed in all my life, ' pursued thelady. 'Such sudden changes are doubtful things, I alwaysthink;--come probably from some sudden cause, and may not last. But it is very surprising while it _does_ last. '

'I am sorry to contradict you, Prudens, ' said Dr. Arthur here;'but Dane was never more himself. He only happens to standfacing due north instead of north by east. '

'He was "north" enough before, ' said his sister, a little, just a little bitterly; 'a trifle more of southern directionwouldn't have hurt him. But _I_ think, he's out of his head. Menare, sometimes, you know, ' she went on, looking full at WychHazel now. 'I shall let Miss Kennedy be judge. Do you knowwhat Dane has been doing, Miss Kennedy?'

'Not waltzing?' said Hazel, opening her brown eyes with anexpression of mild dismay which was very nearly too much forDr. Arthur. 

'Waltzing?' said Prudentia, mystified. 'I did not say anythingabout waltzing. Why shouldn't he waltz? I think he used. Whyyes; he was a famous waltzer. Don't you waltz, Miss Kennedy?'

'But I was always known to be out of my head, ' said Hazel. 'Inwhat other possible way could Mr. Rollo shew the state ofhis?'

'I don't know what you mean, ' said Prudentia, handling herbonnet. 'Then you haven't heard my story already. You knowthat old Mr. Morton has failed; did you hear of that?'

'Not the first time, is it?' said Miss Kennedy coolly. Dr. Arthur bit his lips. 

'Yes, my dear! it's the first and only time; he was alwayssupposed to be a very rich man. Well, Dane has taken hisfortune and thrown it into those mills!'

'I was afraid you were going to say the mill stream, ' saidWych Hazel, who was getting so nervous she didn't know what todo with herself; 'but the mills seem a safe place. '

'I don't know but he's better done that of the two, ' saidPrudentia. 'A safe place? Why, my dear, just think! he hasbought all of Mr. Morton's right and title there; with Mr. Morton's three mills. Of course, it _must_ have taken verynearly his whole fortune; it _must_. '

'I fancy there's a trifle left over, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'But Ican't conceive what possessed him. What does Rollo know of themill business?'

'Nothing at all, of course, ' said Prudentia. 'Nor of any otherbusiness. And he has shewed his ignorance--did Arthur tell you, sir, how he has shewed it?'

'In buying three mills to begin with, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Amodest man would have begun with one. '

'But my dear sir, _that_ isn't all. What _do_ you suppose, MissKennedy, was his first move?'

'One is prepared for almost anything. '

'He will learn the business, before long, ' said Dr. Arthur, 'if close attention can do it. '

'What should he learn the business for?' said his sister. 'Hehas already all that the mill business could give him, withoutany trouble. _I_ think he's troubled in his wits; I do indeed. He was always a wild boy, and now he's a wilder man. '

'Troubled in his wits!' said Dr. Arthur, with such supremederision, that Wych Hazel laughed. To her own great relief, beit said. 

'But what is this that he has done?' Mr. Falkirk inquired, hisbrows looking very much disgusted. 

'My dear sir! Fancy it. Fancy it, Miss Kennedy. The firstthing he did was to _raise the wages of his hands!_'

Just one person caught the gleam from under Hazel's down-casteyes, --perhaps something made his own quick-sighted. Dr. Arthuranswered for her. 

'They were not half paid before, Mr. Falkirk. That explainsit. '

'Weren't they paid as other mill hands are paid, Dr. Arthur?'

'The more need for a change, then, ' said the young man, whowas a trifle Quixotic himself. 

'But if the change is made by one man alone, he effectsnothing but his own ruin. '

'That is what Dane is about, I am firmly persuaded, ' said Mrs. Coles. 

'No man ever yet went to ruin by doing right, ' said Dr. Maryland. 

'Many a one!' said Mr. Falkirk, --'by doing what he _thought_right; from John Brown up to John Huss, and from John Hussback to the time when history is lost in a fog bank. '

'They'll get their reward, I suppose, in the other world, 'said Prudentia comfortably. 

'How will his ruin affect the poor mill people?' said WychHazel, so seriously, that perhaps only Mr. Falkirk--knowingher-- knew what she was about. 

'Why, my dear, it ruins them too in the end; that's it. Whenhe fails, of course his improvements fail, and everything goesback where it was before. Only worse. '

'Precisely, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'You cannot lift the world outof the grooves it runs in, by mere force; and he who tries, will put his shoulder out of joint. '

'Then my picture of "the loss of all things, " is the portraitof a ruined man!' said Wych Hazel, with an expressive glanceat Dr. Maryland. He smiled. 

'It partly depends, you know, Miss Kennedy, upon where therace is supposed to end. But our friend is running well atpresent, for both worlds. '

'Arthur, he is not!' said his sister emphatically. 'Paul andJohn Charteris, the other mill-owners, hate him as hard asthey can hate him; and if they can ruin him, they will; thatyou may depend upon. '

'And his own people love him as hard as they can, --so that, even if you allow one rich mill-owner to be worth a hundredpoor employ�s, Dane can still strike a fair balance. '--Rathermore than that, Dr. Arthur thought, as his quick eye tooknotice of the little screening hand that came suddenly upabout Wych Hazel's mouth and chin. 

'That's all nonsense, Arthur; business is business, and notsentiment. I never heard of a cotton mill yet that was runupon sentiment; nor did you. And I tell you, it won't pay. Iam speaking of business _as_ business. Paul and John Charteriswill ruin Dane, if they can. '

'They probably can, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'They will make acombination with other mill-owners and undersell him; andpaying less wages they can afford to do it, for a time. And acertain time will settle Rollo's business. '

'I think he has lost his wits, ' Prudentia repeated, for thethird or fourth utterance. 'Then another thing he has done--Butreally, Arthur, my dear, we must go. '

'O tell us some more!' said Miss Kennedy. 'We have not heardof any wits lost in this way, all winter; and it is quiteexciting. What next, Mrs. Coles?'

Prudentia laughed. 

'How comes it he don't tell you himself? I thought you used tobe such friends--riding about everywhere. But indeed _we_ don'tsee much of Dane now; he lives at his old nurse's ever so muchof the time; and comes scouring over the country on that bayhorse of his, to consult papa about something;--but _I_ never seehim, except through the window. Sometimes he rides your brownhorse, I think, Miss Kennedy. I suppose he is keeping it inorder for you. '

'Well, that certainly does sound erratic!' said Miss Kennedy, drawing a long breath. 'I hope he will confine all new-fanglednotions to the bay. '

'He has taught that creature to stand still, ' said Mrs. Coles, looking at her. 

'That must afford him immense satisfaction! Rather hard uponthe bay, though. '

'He stands as still as a mountain, ' Prudentia went on, carrying on meanwhile privately a mental speculation aboutWych Hazel;--'he stands like a glossy statue, without beingheld, too; and comes when Dane snaps his fingers to him. '

'It only shews what unexpected docility exists in somenatures, ' said Miss Kennedy with an unreadable face. 

'Come, Prudens--tell your story and have done!' said Dr. Arthur, speaking now. 'I have an appointment. '

'I am quite ready, ' said Mrs. Coles starting up. 'Dear me! wehave stayed an unconscionable time, but Miss Kennedy willforgive us, being country people and going back to the countryto-morrow. Prim says Dane is coming down before long. '

'Tell your story!'

'Miss Kennedy won't care for it, and it will ruin Dane withMr. Falkirk. He has introduced something like English pennyreadings at Morton Hollow, ' said Prudentia, putting on herbonnet and turning towards Wych Hazel's guardian. 

'What are penny readings?' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'They had their origin in England, I believe; somebody setthem on foot for the benefice of the poorer classes, or workpeople; and Dane has imported them. He receives the employ�sof the mills, ' said Prudentia, chuckling, --'whoever will comeand pay a penny; his own workmen and the others. The levee isheld on Saturday nights; and Dane lays himself out to amusethem with reading to them and singing. Fancy it! Fancy Danereading all sorts of things to those audiences! and theevenings are so interesting, I am told, that they do notdisperse till eleven o'clock. I believe he has it incontemplation to add the more material refreshment ofsandwiches and coffee as soon as he gets his arrangementsperfected. And he is going to build, as soon as the springopens, O, I don't know what!'

'Fools build houses, and other people live in them, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 

'O, it's not houses to live in--though I have a notion he isgoing to do that too. He lives with old Gyda pretty much ofthe time. '

'Well, ' said Dr. Arthur, looking at Mr. Falkirk but speakingto Wych Hazel, 'I need only add, that my father thoroughlyapproves of all Rollo's work. '

'Work?--does he call it "work"?' said Wych Hazel, looking up. 

'It is not exactly play, Miss Kennedy!'--

But the soft laugh that answered that, no one could define. 

'He won't find it play by the by, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 

CHAPTER XLI. 

A LESSON. 

This visit and talk gave Hazel a great deal to ponder. Thework, and--the doer of it; and--did he ever think of her, shequestioned, in the doing? And did he expect to make _her_'stand, as he had the bay'? and come, if he but 'snapped hisfingers'? On the whole, Miss Wych did not feel as if _she_ weredeveloping any hidden stores of docility at present!--not atpresent; and one or two new questions, or old ones in a newshape, began to fill her mind; inserting themselves betweenthe leaves of her Schiller, peeping cunningly out from behind'reason' and 'instinct' and 'the wings of birds'; dancing andglimmering and hiding in the firelight. Mr. Falkirk might havenoticed, about this time, that Miss Wych was never ready tohave the gas lit. 

The gas was lit, however, and the tea-tray just brought in, when one evening a few nights after the visit last recorded, Rollo himself was announced. Notwithstanding all Mrs. Coleshad prognosticated, he seemed very much like himself both inface and manner; he came in and talked and took his place atthe table, just as he had been used to do at Chickaree. Noteven more grave than he had often been there. 

It was not the first time Wych Hazel had confessed to herselfthat tea trays are a great institution; nor the first time shehad found shelter behind her occupation. Very demurely shepoured out the tea, and listened sedately to the talk betweenthe gentlemen; but it was with extra gravity that she at lastput her fingers in. She never could guess afterwards how shehad dared. 

'Do you think he looks _much_ like a ruined man, Mr. Falkirk?'she said, in one of the pauses of their talk. 

A flash of lightning quickness and brightness came to her fromRollo's eyes. Mr. Falkirk lifted his dumbly, not knowing howto take the girl. He had not, so far in the talk, touched thesubject of Mrs. Coles' communications, though no doubt theyhad not been out of his mind for one instant. But somehow, Mr. Falkirk had lacked inclination to call his younger coadjutorto account, and probably was hopeless of effecting anysupposable good by so doing. Now he stared wonderingly up atWych Hazel. She was looking straight at him, awaiting ananswer; but fully alive to the situation, and a little bitfrightened thereat, and with the fun and the confusion bothgetting into her face in an irresistible way. Mr. Falkirk'sface went down again with a grunt, or a growl; it was ratherdubious in intent. Rollo's eyes did not waver from theirinquisition of Wych Hazel's face. It was getting to be hotwork!--Hazel touched her hand bell, and turned away to giveorders, and came back to her business; sending Mr. Falkirk acup of tea that was simply scalding. Her bravery was done forthat time. 

'What have you been doing this winter?' Mr. Falkirk finallyconcluded to ask. 

'Investing in new stock, ' Rollo answered carelessly. 

'Don't pay, does it?'

'I think it will. Money is worth what you can get out of it, you know. '

'Pray, if I may ask, what do you expect to get out of it inthis way?'

'Large returns'--said Rollo very calmly. 

'I don't see it, ' said Mr. Falkirk. 'I hope you do; but Ican't. '

'You have not the elements to make a perfect calculation. '

Rollo, it was plain, understood himself, and was in noconfusion on the subject. Mr. Falkirk, either in uncertaintyor in disgust, declined to pursue it. He finished his tea, andthen, perhaps, feeling that he had no right to keep watch overhis brother guardian, much to Wych Hazel's discomfiture, hetook up his book and marched away. 

Rollo left the table and came round then to a seat by herside. 

'What have _you_ been doing this winter?' he asked, putting thequestion with his eyes as well as with his words. 

'Making old stock pay, '--said the girl, looking down at herfolded hands; she was not of the calm sisterhood who hidethemselves in crochet. 

'Perhaps you will be so good as to enlarge upon that. '

Hazel sent back the first answer that came to her tongue, andthe next: it was no part of her plan to have herself in theforeground. 

'This is a fair average specimen of our tea-drinkings, ' shesaid. 'And the mornings are hardly more eventful. Just lately, Mr. Falkirk has been a good deal disturbed about you. Or elsehe was easy about you, and disturbed about your doings, --he hassuch a confused way of putting things. But we heard you hadcopied my "hurricane track, " ' said Miss Wych, folding herhands in a new position. 

'And were you disturbed about my doings?'

'I? O no. I am never disturbed with what you do to anybody butme. '

Rollo did not choose to pursue that subject. He plunged intoanother. 

'I should like to explain to you some of my doings; and I mustgo a roundabout way to do it. Miss Hazel, do you read theBible much?'

'Much?' she said with a sudden look up. 'What do you call"much?" '

He smiled at her. 'Are you in the habit of studying it?'

'As I study other things I do not know?--Not often. Sometimes, 'said Wych Hazel, thinking how often she had gone over thatsame ninety-first Psalm. 

'What is your notion of religion?--as to what it means?'

She glanced up at him again, almost wondering for a moment ifhis wits were 'touched. ' Then seeing his eyes were undoubtedlysane and grave, set her own wits to work. 

'It means, ' she answered slowly after a pause, 'to me, different things in different people. All sorts ofcontradictions, I believe!--In mamma, as they tell of her, itmeant everything beautiful, and loving, and loveable, andtender. And it puts Dr. Maryland away off--up in the sky, Ithink. And it just blinds Prim, so that she cannot comprehendcommon mortals. And it seems to open Gyda's eyes, so that she_does_ understand--like mamma. And--I do not know what it means inyou, Mr. Rollo!'

'You never saw it in me. '

'No. '

'Let me give you a lesson to study, ' said he. 'Something Ihave been studying lately a good deal. I must take this minutebefore we are interrupted. Have you got a Bible here?'

She sprang up and brought her own from the next room, with acertain quick way as if she were excited; Rollo took it andturned over the leaves, then placed it before her open. 

'I have heard you read the Bible once. Read now those twoverses. '

"For the love of Christ constraineth us; because we thusjudge, that if one died for all, then were all dead: and thathe died for all, that they which live should not henceforthlive unto themselves, but unto him which died for them, androse again. "--2 Cor. V. 14, 15. 

Wych Hazel read the words slowly, softly, --then look[ed] up athim again. 

'Is _that_ what it means in you?' she said. 

'What do the words imply, for anybody?' he said, with his eyesgoing down into hers as they did sometimes, like as if theywould get at the yet unspoken thoughts. But hers fell again tothe book. 

'I suppose, they should mean--what they say, ' she answered inthe same slow fashion. 'But what that is, --or at least wouldbe, --I do not very well know. '

'If One died for me, --if it is because of his love and deathfor me that I live at all, --to whom do I properly belong?myself, or him?'

'Well, and then?' she said, passing the question as answered. 

'_Then_ a good many things, ' he said, smiling again. 'Supposethat he, to whom I belong, has work that he wants done, --suppose there are people he wants taken care of and helped, --ifI love him and if I belong to him, what shall I like to do?'

'What you are doing, I suppose, ' said Hazel, with a littleundefined twinge that came much nearer jealousy than sheguessed. 

'That is very plain, and perfectly simple, isn't it?'

'It sounds so. '--And glancing furtively at the bright, clearface, she added to herself Dr. Maryland's old words: 'Lovelikes her bonds!'--That was plain too. 

'Then another question. If I belong to this One whom I love, does not all that I have belong to him too?'

'But it was not _I_ who said you were ruining yourself, ' saidthe girl in her quick way. 'I liked it. '

'Did you?' said he, with one of his flashes of eye. 'But I amgiving you a lesson to study. I am not justifying myself. Answer my question. Does not all I have belong to that One, who loves me and whom I love?'

She bowed her head in assent. Somehow the words hurt her. 

'So that, whatever I do, I cannot be said to _give_ himanything? It is all his already. I am asking you a businessquestion. I want you to answer just as it appears to you. '

'How can it appear but in one way?' said Hazel. 'That must betrue, of course. '

'Very well. That is clear. Now suppose further that my Lordhas left me special directions about what he wants done tothese people I spoke of--am I not to take the directionsexactly as they stand, without clipping?'

'Yes. '

He put his hand upon the book which lay before her, and turnedback the leaves to the third chapter of Luke; there indicateda verse and bade her read again. 

' "He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hathnone. " '

'What does that mean?' asked Rollo. 

'What it says--if it means anything, I suppose. '

Again Rollo put his hand upon the leaves, turning further backstill till he reached the book of Isaiah. And then he gaveWych Hazel these words to read:

'Is not this the fast that I have chosen? to loose the bandsof wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, and to let theoppressed go free, and that ye break every joke? Is it not todeal thy bread to the hungry, and that thou bring the poorthat are cast out to thine house? when thou seest the naked, that thou cover him; and that thou hide not thyself from thineown flesh?'

'How are the commands to be met?' Rollo asked gravely when shehad done. 

'Why, you have found out!' said Hazel. 'I knew you would gooff on a crusade after that October sky, Mr. Rollo. '

He seemed half to forget his subject, or to merge it, in adeep, thoughtful gaze at her for a few moments, over which asmile gradually broke. 

'To come back to our lesson, ' he said, --'are not these commandsto be taken _au pied de la lettre?_'

'They can hardly be the one exception among commands, I shouldthink, '--with a little arch of her eyebrows. 

'Then I am bound, am I not, to undo every heavy burden that Ican reach? to loose every bond of wickedness, and to breakevery yoke, and to remove oppression, in so far as it lieswith me to do it? Do you not think so?'

'Why, yes!' said Wych Hazel. 'Does anybody _like_ oppression?'

'Does anybody practise it?'

'I do not know, Mr. Rollo. O yes, of course, in some parts ofthe world. But I mean here. Yes, --those people used to look asif something kept them down, --and I used to think Mr. Mortonmight help it, I remember. '

'You are not to suppose that oppression is liked for its ownsake. That is rarely the case, even in this world. It is forthe sake of what it will bring, like other wrong things. But aquestion more. Can I do _all_ I can, without giving and usingall I have for it?'

'That is self-evident. '

'Then it only remains, how to use what I have to the bestadvantage. '

'Well, even Mr. Falkirk admits you are a good business man, 'said Hazel, laughing a little. 

'How are you for a business woman?'

'Nobody has ever found out. Of course I consider myselfcapable of anything. But then business never does come into myhands, you know. '

'This business does. '

'Does it? the business of caring for other people?--Last summerDr. Maryland read a terrible text about the "tears of theoppressed, and they had no comforter. " It haunted me for awhile. But I could do nothing. No, --one must have more right ofway than I have--yet. '

'I do not mean the business simply of caring for other people. I mean the whole course of action, beginning from those firstwords you read. '

'You know, ' she said quietly, 'I have never tried. '

'Will you study the lesson I have set you?'

'The one you have been learning?'

'Yes. The one contained in these verses you have read. Shall Ido harm if I mark this book?'

'No. '--The word came quick, under breath. 

He turned to the different places where she had been reading, and carefully marked the passages; then sought out andlikewise marked several others. 'Will you study the lessonout?' he asked as he was busy with the last marking. 

'I will try--I think, ' she answered slowly. 'As well as I knowhow. '

'Do not fancy, ' he said, smiling as he shut the book, 'thatthe care of the needy, in any shape, is religion; nor thinkthat He who loves us will take _anything_ as a substitute forour whole-hearted love to him. If we give him that, he willlet us know in what way we may shew it. '

She made no answer except by another swift look. This wasChaldee to her! He let the silence last a little while. 

'Now I have asked you so many questions, ' he said, 'I shouldlike it if you would ask me a few. '

'What about?'

'All subjects are open to you!'

'How did you contrive to make the bay "stand"?'

The flash of Rollo's eye came first. 

'How do you know I did?' he said laughing. 'But that is noanswer. Let me see. I believe, first I made him know that hemust mind me; and secondly, I persuaded him into loving me. All that remained, was to let him understand that I wanted himto be immovable when I was not on his back. '

'O, but!--' said Hazel hastily, --the sentence ending in crimsoncheeks, and the shyest veil of reserve dropped over her face. 

'I might question here, ' said Rollo in an amused tone, andeyeing her inquisitively; 'but I have done it so often, --Ileave the ground to you. What next?'

'What next' seemed to have flown away. 

'Does Collingwood engross all the thoughts that go back toChickaree?'

A sidelong glance of the brown eyes was all that Mr. Rollo gotby that venture. 

How is Tr�dchen?' she asked gravely. 

'Flourishing. Asks after you whenever she gets a chance. '

'Mrs. Bo�rresen of course is well, as she has had you to lookafter?'

'Gyda is happy. It is a comfort to her to have to makefladbrod for two. '

'It must be a comfort to you to eat it!--How is poor Mr. Morton? I felt for him when I heard you had turned his worldupside down. '

'What did you feel for him?' said Rollo quite innocently. 

'You have asked all your questions. I think it would be propernow, ' said Wych Hazel, folding her hands and controlling thecurling lips, 'that you should go on and tell me all there isto be told, and save me the trouble of asking any more. '

'I do not wish to save you the trouble. '

'It is good practice occasionally to do what you do not wish. Instructive. And full of suggestion. '

'Suggestion of what?'

'Try, and you will know. I doubt if you ever did try, ' saidWych Hazel. 

'I tried it last night and yesterday morning, when I wasturned away from your door with the announcement that you wereout. '

'But you did not leave your name!' said Hazel, looking up. 

'I found it "suggestive" too, ' Rollo went on. 'I do not knowwhether you would like me to tell you all the things which itsuggested. '

'How is everybody else at home?' said Hazel, changing herground. 'I heard Miss May had been sick. '

The answer tarried, for Mr. Falkirk came in, and perhaps Rolloforgot it, or knew that Wych Hazel had; for it was nevergiven. He entered into talk with Mr. Falkirk; and did his partwell through the rest of the evening. Then, Mr. Falkirkexpressing the surmise, it was hardly put in the form of ahope, that they would see him to breakfast or dinner, Rolloaverred that he was going immediately home. He had done hiswork in town, and could not tarry. No remark from the lady ofthe house met that. Indeed she had been sitting in thesilentest of moods, letting the gentlemen talk; having enoughto think of and observe. For absence does change, even anintimate friend, and both lifts and drops a veil. Oldcharacteristics stand out with new clearness; old graces ofmind or manner strike one afresh; but the old familiaritywhich once in a sort took possession of all this, is nowwithdrawn a little, --we stand off and look. And so, secretly, modestly, shyly, Wych Hazel studied her young guardian thatnight. But when he had risen to go, the faintest little touchfrom one of her finger tips drew him a step aside. 

'I said I would study that, ' she began. 'But it seems to meyou explained it all as you went along. What is there left tostudy?'

The grave penetrating eyes she met and had to meet once, gaveall the needed force to his answer. --'_Your part_, Miss Hazel. 'He stood looking at her a minute; and then he went away. 

If when Rollo had entered he room where she was, that evening, the instant feeling had been that he must come often: perhapsthe after feeling was that he could not stand much of thisdoubtful and neutral intercourse. For he did as he hadpromised; left her, practically, to Mr. Falkirk, and came notto town again during all the rest of that winter. 

CHAPTER XLII. 

STUDY. 

It seemed to Hazel, that in these days there was no end to thethinking she had to do; and if Mr. Rollo had only known, sheremarked to herself, he need not have been at the trouble topoint out new lines of study. The mere sight of him for twohours had put her head in a tangle that it would take her amonth to clear away. Some of the questions indeed had startedup under the conversation of Mrs. Coles; but with them nowcame others, all wrapped round and twisted in; and instead ofdreamily watching the fire in her twilight musings, she begannow to spend them with her cheek on her book, or her headdropped on her hands, an impatient little sigh now and thenbearing witness to the depth of the difficulties in which shewas plunged. What was foremost among the subjects of hermusings?--perhaps this strange new talk of Mr. Rollo's, withthe whole new world of work and interest and consecrationwhich had opened before him. It made her sober, --it broughtback the old lonely feelings which of late (since she knewherself to belong to somebody 'in idea') had somewhat passedout of sight. He was beginning a new, glad life; growing wiserand better than she; making himself a blessing, whereas shewas only a care. What could she do for him any more?--would heeven want her any more? given up now to these new ways ofwhich she knew nothing, and in which somebody else might suithim better--say Primrose? But at that, Miss Wych started up andstirred the fire energetically, and then came back to hermusings. 

What did she care, anyhow? She passed that question, turned itround, and took it up in another shape. How would she bear tobe all her life under orders? in 'closer' guardianship?--andthere the word 'sweeter' flashed in, confusingly. But that wasnot business. Did she--that is, could she--like him well enoughto like to give up her own way? Answer, a prompt negative. Never!--Not if she liked him ten times more than--but it isawkward dealing with unknown quantities: Hazel sheered off. Suppose she _didn't_ like it--could she do it? do it so that hewould never find out what it cost her? do it to give himpleasure? do it because it was his right? Waiving her ownpleasure, pushing aside her own will? Could she do it?--Well, there was not the least hope that she would wish to do it. Sheshould always like her own best: no doubt of that. 

Then could she (perhaps) learn such trust in his judgment, aswould turn her own will round?--As hopeless as the other. Sometimes, of course, he might be right, --by a great stretch ofleniency Miss Wych allowed so far, --sometimes, it was certain, she would. Well: could she give his judgment as well as hiswill the right of way? For unless she could, Wych hazel feltquite sure of one thing: she should never be happy a minute insuch guardianship. She had not dared to give herself apossible reason for liking it in the old times, --could she doit, now that she dared? Was she willing to give up, sometimesor always, to just that one person in all the world?--turningher bonds into bracelets, and wearing them royally? And thereher thoughts went down to the real bracelet on her arm, andits motto, so suddenly become his:

'In hope of eternal life. '--Would he care for her any more?

O how thoughts tired themselves, toiling round these points!and slowly uprising from them came yet another, which filledthe air. What was she to say at the year's end?--or, if _this_were the year's end, what would she say now?--supposing Mr. Rollo still cared what she said. But that last question mustbe studied by and by. Mr. Rollo would have been amused, maybe, and may be a little touched, if he had known the ogre-likeshapes in which the girl conjured him up, just to see if shecould endure him _so:_ putting herself to superhuman tests. Buther imagination played tricks, after all; for every Afritecame up with a face and voice before which she yielded, perforce; and even her favourite scene of standing still asthe bay and having him snap his fingers for her, ended one dayin a laugh, as she thought what she would say if he ever _did_. Then finding she had got very far beyond limits, Hazelcoloured furiously and ran away from her thoughts. But theyhindered her new study, and interrupted it; and the studybrought up the new pain; only slowly through it all, one thinggradually grew clear, helped on by her pain perhaps as much asanything: she would rather belong to somebody than not--ifsomebody wanted her! And there was only one somebody in theworld, of whom that was true. 

Whereupon, with characteristic waywardness, Miss Wych at oncegave up her recluse life; accepted invitations, and pulled Mr. Falkirk into a round of outdoor gaiety that nearly turned hishead. Trying, perhaps, to test her discoveries, or to get ridof her thoughts; or to prove to herself conclusively that shedid not wish for any more visits from Chickaree. 

And so Wych Hazel knew her own secret. 

Typographical errors silently corrected :

Contents : =favors= silently corrected as =favours=

Chapter 3 : =This is Haydn's Dam= silently corrected as =This isHadyn's Dam=

Chapter 4 : =in to, for the sun= silently corrected as =in too, for the sun=

Chapter 4 : =Sometime before= silently corrected as =Some timebefore=

Chapter 5 : =has made you to day= silently corrected as =has madeyou to-day=

Chapter 5 : =then he said. 'It is too= silently corrected as=then he said, 'It is too=

Chapter 6 : =said Mr Falkirk= silently corrected as =said Mr. Falkirk=

Chapter 6 : =Mr Kingsland at her feet= silently corrected as =Mr. Kingsland at her feet=

Chapter 7 : =folly or ill-humor= silently corrected as =folly orill-humour=

Chapter 7 : =Rollo at the horse's heads= silently corrected as=Rollo at the horses' heads=

Chapter 8 : =lady could eat;= silently corrected as =lady couldeat?=

Chapter 12 : =that whitehandkerchief= silently corrected as =thatwhite handkerchief=

Chapter 13 : =just a litle bit= silently corrected as =just alittle bit=

Chapter 14 : =translated from her. = silently corrected as=translated from her--=

Chapter 15 : =then you, and I can= silently corrected as =thenyou and I can=

Chapter 15 : =What did you say, my dear. = silently corrected as=What did you say, my dear?=

Chapter 16 : =his post down the brook;= silently corrected as=his post down the brook, =

Chapter 16 : ='contriving;' his own= silently corrected as='contriving' his own=

Chapter 17 : =It is the pumpkin= silently corrected as =Is it thepumpkin=

Chapter 18 : =brown fairies to day= silently corrected as =brownfairies to-day=

Chapter 18 : =when I was a child;= silently corrected as =when Iwas a child, =

Chapter 18 : =Two fair days= silently corrected as =two fair days=

Chapter 18 : =of several gentleman= silently corrected as =ofseveral gentlemen=

Chapter 19 : =until I bring you word. = silently corrected as=until I bring you word?=

Chapter 19 : =softly endeavoring= silently corrected as =softlyendeavouring=

Chapter 19 : =Chickaree) ordered up= silently corrected as=Chickaree), ordered up=

Chapter 19 : =However had he dared= silently corrected as =However had he dared=

Chapter 20 : =Miss' Azel'll get= silently corrected as =Miss'Azel'll get=

Chapter 20 : =h'it's 'ere, h'it's'ere= silently corrected as=h'it's 'ere, h'it's 'ere==

Chapter 22 : =disturbing Mrs. Maryland= silently corrected as=disturbing Miss Maryland=

Chapter 22 : =disagreeable, = silently corrected as d=isagreeable. =

Chapter 22 : =the other man about. = silently corrected as =theother man about?=

Chapter 23 : =He said after= silently corrected as =he said after=

Chapter 23 : =favorite opera air= silently corrected as=favourite opera air=

Chapter 23 : =we had a royal time?= silently corrected as =we hada royal time!=

Chapter 23 : =they last beheld you?= silently corrected as =theylast beheld you!=

Chapter 26 : a=nd her voice was clear= silently corrected as =andhis voice was clear=

Chapter 27 : =I shall wear blue to night= silently corrected as=I shall wear blue to-night=

Chapter 27 : =What's the matter!= silently corrected as W=hat'sthe matter?=

Chapter 27 : =hospitality again to night= silently corrected as=hospitality again to-night=

Chapter 28 : =you know that is a sort= silently corrected as =Youknow that is a sort=

Chapter 28 : =till another time. = silently corrected as =tillanother time?=

Chapter 29 : C=hickaree left behind. = silently corrected as=Chickaree left behind!=

Chapter 29 : =n�ively= silently corrected as =na�vely=

Chapter 29 : =Rollo siezed= silently corrected as =Rollo seized=

Chapter 30 : =grave consideration, = silently corrected as =graveconsideration. =

Chapter 30 : =added Mrs. Cole= silently corrected as =added Mrs. Coles=

Chapter 30 : =for insanity;= silently corrected as =for insanity. =

Chapter 32 : =must must here= silently corrected as =must here=

Chapter 32 : =lady and gentlemen= silently corrected as =lady andgentleman=

Chapter 33 : =best of the neighborhood= silently corrected as=best of the neighbourhood=

Chapter 34 : =the worst of is= silently corrected as =the worstof it=

Chapter 34 : =The gentlemen looked= silently corrected as =Thegentleman looked=

Chapter 35 : =vis-a-vis= silently corrected as =vis-�-vis=

Chapter 35 : =hair'sbreadth= silently corrected as =hair'sbreadth=

Chapter 35 : =mysterieuses= silently corrected as =myst�rieuses=

Chapter 36 : =decollet�e= silently corrected as =d�collet�e=

Chapter 36 : =clergymen's back= silently corrected as=clergyman's back=

Chapter 37 : =better by and by, = silently corrected as =better byand by. =

Chapter 38 : =But Hazel= silently corrected as =but Hazel=

Chapter 39 : =in the the abstract= silently corrected as =in theabstract=

Chapter 39 : =laid head= silently corrected as =laid her head=

Chapter 40 : =neighborhood of Chickaree= silently corrected as=neighbourhood of Chickaree=

Chapter 40 : =No, Sir= silently corrected as =No, sir=

Chapter 40 : =degag� air= silently corrected as =d�gag� air=

Chapter 41 : =plunged into another, = silently corrected as=plunged into another. =

Chapter 41 : =quick way as she= silently corrected as =quick wayas if she=

Chapter 42 : =became his= silently corrected as =become his=