'That's a gentle confession of ignorance. Here comes Gyda, and porridge. What else is to bring, Gyda?'
He went off, and came back in another minute with his hands full. Porridge and flad-brod and cheese and cream and broiled fish were set on the table; the coffee was at the fire. Rollo stood a moment surveying things, the old woman by the table, the little woman in the chair.
'You may kiss her hand, Gyda,' he said, in a tone that implied everything.
Hazel received this announcement and its consequences with a great flush. Only, with the way she had of putting some pretty grace into the most disturbing things, the little fingers locked themselves round Gyda's furtively, for a second, so giving the recognition which she could not speak. And Gyda was too gently wise to say a word. After that, both combined to wait upon Hazel, though Gyda did not get a chance to do much. And Hazel tried hard to obey injunctions and eat porridge, principally because it gave her something to do; but her performance was unsatisfactory, except in the matter of coffee, which she drank rather eagerly.
'Now,' said Rollo, 'tell me where to find Reo.'
'Where?'with a swift up-look, almost too swift to see,'why!' And then Hazel remembered to her confusion, that she did not know. 'II supposehe would have brought me to the nearest point. Of course.'
As no doubt Reo would, if he had known where she was going!Thatthought confronted her next; and with a dim consciousness of having stopped the carriage at a venture, for fear heshouldknow, Hazel began again:
'At least,'. But there was no going on from that point. 'Is it very far along the foot of the hill?' she ventured, without any look this time.
'I should say,' returned Rollo gravely, 'it might be about some five miles.'
Hazel leaned her head on her hand and tried to recollect,and nothing stood out from all that morning's work but the pain and the difficulty and the fatigue.
He sat down and took the little hand again.
'Which way did you come over the hill, Wych?'
'I do not know.'If it must come, it must!'I was thinking only of getting up; and you know there are not many landmarks. At least, I do not remember any.'
'Did you come through the wood?'
'No. I am sure of that.'
'Then did you come east or west of it?'
'I do not remember the wood at all,' said Hazel, feeling very much ashamed of herself. 'I was not looking. But there were no houses I am sure of that.'
'Whatdidyou see, Hazel?' softly.
'I think, of all people to cross-examine one!' said the girl, in her extremity sending a little bit of her old self to the front. 'I am certainIcan find the way, Mr. Rollo, without the trouble of considering what I did not see, or what I did.'
'May I venture to ask, what orders you gave Reo?'
'The usual orders; to wait till I came.'
Rollo laughed a little, but if his face did not mean that he understood the whole matter, it did not mean anything. It was very grave, though he laughed.
He went off, and left Wych Hazel again to herself, with only Gyda moving about and keeping up the fire. It was a full mile over the hill to the cross-road where the carriage was standing, and Hazel had a good time of quiet all to herself. As once before that day, she had looked up the moment Rollo turned and so watched him out of sight. And now Hazel sat among her cushions, her head down against the side of her chair, looking into the winking embers with very grave wide-open eyes. Mentally, she knew there had come a great lull over all troublous things; a lull which she was not just then strong enough to disturb by handling it in detail. But physically, she felt shattered, and very little able to practise self- defence; and she began to long to get home, and by herself, where no keeping-up of any sort would be needful. One thing was yet to do, however. So when Gyda had ended her work and sat down at the corner of the hearth, Hazel left her cushions and knelt down beside her.
'Mrs. Boërresen'she said with a hand on her arm, her face upraised.
'My lady,' said Gyda, turning her bright eyes upon Hazel with a happy look.
'You will not tell him anything of all this? my coming, and all about it? And what I said?'
'No need,' said Gyda placidly. 'My lady will tell it herself.'
A very resolved little gesture of the girl's head dismissedthatstatement. She was silent a minute.
'And then,' she began again, more hesitatingly, 'at least you will not speak of it. Norofa year ago?'
'Last year?' said Gyda. 'When my lady came here before? That was not for him to know. That was only me alone. To-day my lady will tell him about, when she pleases.' And Gyda smiled over this statement benignly.
Hazel leaned her head against Gyda's arm gazing down into the firelight; it seemed to her to-day as if she had to think over anything a great many times to get used to it. She must be tired. The afternoon light was waning fast when the quick step outside was heard again, and Rollo came in. He surveyed the group quietly, and then went off to his room to change his dress. And when he returned to relieve the guard, it was with a most composed and unexciting manner. He scarcely said three words, till a boy brought the message that the carriage was waiting in the Hollow. Then he wrapped the great plaid shawl round Hazel, for the evening had fallen chill and her dress was thin, and they went out into the dusky twilight for the walk down to the carriage.
Dusky, and yet clear; a cloudless depth of sky out of which stars were brightening; a still air with almost a breath of frost in it; outlines of the Hollow hills darkly drawn against the soft twilight sky; the silence of evening, when mill-work was done, over all and in everything. Rollo did not speak, and they heardif they heardonly the sound of their own steps down the path. When they were in the carriage, Rollo presently, with a gentle word, untied Wych Hazel's flat hat and took it off; drew a corner of the shawl over her head, and putting his arm round her made her lay down her head upon his shoulder and lean upon him.
'But Mr. Rollo' said Hazel timidly, finding that her acted remonstrance had no effect.
'What?'
'I am quite able to sit up.'
'I have no faith whatever in that statement.'
'If you will let me trythe other,'Hazel began.
'The other shoulder?'
But the answer to that tarried. Hazel knew perfectly well that if she spoke in the first minute she would laugh; which was not at all according to her present system of tactics. And in the second, her words were not ready, and by the time the third came it was rather too late. So silence reigned, while Reo sent the horses along, over the level smooth road, and the evening air came in crisp and fresh at the open window, and stars looked down winking in their quiet way of saying sweet things. They always do, when one is happy; sometimes in other states of mind they seem high above sympathy. But to-night they looked down at Hazel confidentially, and crickets and nameless insects chirruped along by the roadside; and on and on the carriage rolled, mile after mile. Rollo was as still as the stars, almost. And so was Wych Hazel, for a long time; still as anything could be that lived. Suddenly a question broke from her.
'What was it you were going to say to me?'
'When?' The word came with a ring of many thoughts, through which a grave tenderness most vibrated.
'You said,thatwas the best time. And you did not take it,' saidHazel.
'Hush,' said he softly and gravely. 'All has been said; except that I shall never forgive myself, Hazel.'
Wych Hazel went to her room so utterly spent, so completely prostrate, that even Phoebe could not talk during her ministrations; nor dared Mrs. Bywank find fault.WhyMiss Wych must needs tire herself to death, over nobody knows what, was a trial to the good housekeeper's patience as well as her curiosity; but for that night the only thing was to let her sleep. It was the only thing next day. The reaction, once fairly set in, was strong in proportion to the causes which had prepared for it and brought it about; and Wych Hazel lay in a motionless stupor of sleep, from which nothing could rouse her up. She would open her eyes perhaps, and answer a question, but anything more than that was plainly beyond her strength; and for three days and three nights she lay, as helpless as a little child. "Sleeping her life out," Phoebe said, and certainly frightening Mrs. Bywank half to death; but in reality passing safely out from under the mortal illness that had hung over her by a thread.
And so, on the fourth morning after the day of events, Hazel did fairly wake up, and dress herself, and go down stairs; devoutly hoping that nobodybutMr. Falkirk might come to breakfast, and extremely ready to dispense with him.
Wrapping herself in the soft folds of a crimson morning dress, which at least would keep her in countenance; her face more delicate than pale; her step rather hesitating than slow; her thoughts in a maze of dreamland as misty and bright and shy as the morning sunbeams that went everywhere and just kept out of reach. What had happenedbeforethese three days, that, Hazel knew well enough. But what had happened since that? Had Jeannie Deans been here, with her master?and not finding the lady of the house on hand, had they then gone straight to Mr. Falkirk? And if so, what was his probable state of mind?didheknow? or guess? And how many more times had her other guardian come to Chickaree? and what had he thought of the tidings about her? and at what unexpected point of the day or the minute was she to meet him, on a sudden? Her step lingered on the last stairwent noiselessly along the hall; and then the next thing Mr. Falkirk knew, was a light hand on his shoulder and a soft
'Good-morning, sir.'
'My dear!' said Mr. Falkirk suddenly rising, 'I am very glad to see you.' And he took her hand, which was not common, and looked at her as if to convince himself that all was right.
'Are you, sir?' she said with a laugh. 'You are sure it is not a hallucination, Mr. Falkirk?'
'I am sure of nothing, Miss Hazel, except that I see you. At my time of life, confidence in any conclusions is somewhat shaken. What has been the matter with you?'
'I have been having my own way, sir,which has agreed with meadmirably,' returned Miss Hazel with an arch of her eyebrows.'There is nothing like it, I find. Will you come to breakfast, Mr.Falkirk?'
Her guardian cast two or three rather inquiring looks at her; but seeing that she undoubtedly was well, and probably had not been ill, he contentedly and unsuspiciously, man-like, dismissed the subject and came to breakfast as she bade him.
'It is so long since I had my own way,' he remarked dryly, 'I have forgotten how it feels. Your state of serene satisfaction is unknown to me. How long do you intend to keep it up, Miss Hazel?'
'Until some restless person puts it to flight, sir, I suppose. That is the usual fate of my serene states, as you call them.'
'It occurs to me,' Mr. Falkirk went on, 'that in our recent search after fortune and in the general hallucination which in such a search prevails, I am a good honest big Newfoundland dog transformed into the present shape for the more efficient performance of the duty of barking round his mistress. I feel that to be about my present status and dignity, plainly expressed.'
'The way gentlemen make statements!' said Wych Hazel. 'Perhaps you are aware, sir, who brought me home here, a month ago, when I did not want to come?'
'I don't remember it,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'I only remember who took me to all the watering-places on the continentwhere I didn't want to go. I should like to be informed, Miss Hazel, when the search after fortune is to endwhen I may reasonably hope to resume my own shape again? You may not suppose it; but barking tries a man's powers.'
'I had not perceived it, sir. On the contrary, your voice has been particularly sonorous of late.'
'Are you aware it is the first of October, Miss Hazel?'
'Time for chestnuts, isn't it?' said the girl. 'I had forgotten all bout them.'
'There are other nuts to crack besides chestnuts. The owner of the house you had last winter has written to ask if you want it again this year.'
'Talk of the restlessness of women!' said Hazel. 'Here are we but just settled in the country, and Mr. Falkirk already proposing to return to town.'
'I don't know what you are,' said Mr. Falkirk, 'butIam not settled. Of course, coming home at the end of the season, I have no cook; and Gotham informs me that the kitchen chimney smokes. I should think it did, to judge by the condition of my beefsteaks.'
'I am very sorry, sir! Suppose you condescend tomybeefsteaks until the cook and the smoke change places? The blue room is in perfect orderand would suit your state of mind,' said Miss Wych, eyeing Mr. Falkirk with an air of deep gravity. 'Then there is always Europe'
'Isthatthe next thing!' exclaimed Mr. Falkirk, with a positively alarmed air. 'I have been expecting it.'
'I wanted to go last year, you know, sir,and (if nobody said anything against it) I think I should write at once and secure my passage.'
'To what quarter of the world, miss Hazel?'
'We might go round, sir; and stop where things promised fairest.'
'We might. Then I am to understand you do not like the promise of things at Chickaree?'
'What do you take to be the promise of things here, at present, Mr.Falkirk?'
'Quite beside the question, Miss Hazel. Am I to tell this man you don't want the house in Fiftieth street?'
'I should prefer another house, I think,' said Hazel gravely. 'Mr. Falkirk, I had a letter from Kitty Fisher this morning, and she sends you her love.'
Mr. Falkirk gave an inarticulate grumble.
'You may throw it back to her, my dear; her own love is all she cares about; and as I don't care about it, we are suited. Do I understand that you wish me to look for another house, then?'
'I did hint at Europe,'said Wych Hazel. 'But if it amuses you to look for houses, sir, I have no sort of objection.'
Mr. Falkirk laid down his knife and fork, and looked across the table.
'It don't amuse me to look for anything in a fog, my dear. Do you want to go to Europe?'
'O well, we need not go this week, sir! Shall I invite all the neighbourhood to a grand chestnutting, when Kitty Fisher comes?'
'Miss Hazel, that girl is not proper company for you. I hope you will not ask her to help in your merrymakings; she understands nothing but a romp. And, my dear, if you know your own mind I wish you would be so kind as to let me know it. To go to Europe this fall, you must be off in three weeks at latest. Have you spoken to Rollo about it?'
'Truly, I have not!' said Wych Hazel, with a glow which however Mr. Falkirk charged to displeasure. 'Did you ever know me speak to him about anything connected with my own affairs, sir?'
'I don't know, my dear. He has a word to say concerning them. Do you wish me to sound him on the subject, then?'
'Did you ever succeed in "sounding" him, sir? on any subject?' said the young lady, consulting her watch, and with all her senses on the alert for interruptions. What were 'business' hours at Morton Hollow, she wondered? Then she rose up, and passing round to Mr. Falkirk, gave him a smile that was very sweet and not a bit teasing.
'I must go and rest, sir. I find sitting up tires me to-day. But you will come to dinner?'
She went off with that quick step, betaking herself to the crimson room; for to-day Hazel seemed to prefer high-coloured surroundings. There sat for awhile before the great picture, thinking of many things; and there, still down on her foot cushion, laid her head in one of the easy chairs and went to sleep; with the gray cat dozing and purring in the same chair, close by her head. Only the cat's eyelashes were not wet, and Wych Hazel's were.
It is a pity somebody had not come to see; and somebody would, only that Rollo had a good many things to attend to just now besides his own pleasure. Instead, when the morning was half over, came Miss Phinney Powder, and the sleep and the attitude were broken up. Hazel went to her in the drawing-room.
Miss Josephine was in an unsettled state of mind; for she first placed herself on an ottoman by the fire-place, then got up and went to the window and stood looking out; all the while rattling on of indifferent things, in a rather languid way; then at last came and sank down in a very low position at Wych Hazel's feet on the carpet. She was a pretty girl; might have been extremely pretty, if her very pronounced style of manners had not drawn lines of boldness, almost of coarseness, where the lip should have been soft and the eyebrow modest. The whole expression was dissatisfied and jaded to-day, over and above those lines, which even low spirits could not obliterate.
'It must be awfully nice to have such a place as this all to yourselfhouse and all;just to yourself! You needn't be married till you've a mind to. Don't you think it's a great bore to be married?'
'People can always wait,' said Wych Hazel.
'Wait?' said Phinney. 'For what?'
'For such a great bore,' said Hazel, stroking the cat.
'How can you wait?' said Phinney.
'What hinders?'
'Why! you must be married, you know, some time; and it don't do to stay till you can't get a good chance. It's such a bore!' said the poor girl helplessly.
Somehow, Hazel's own happiness made her rather tender towards these notes of complaint.
'What do you mean?' she said, leaning down by Phinney. 'I would not take even "a good chance" to be miserable.'
'I'm just in a fix,' said Josephine, 'and I can't get out of it. And I came to see you on purpose to talk. I thought maybe you would have some sympathy for me. Nobody has at home.'
'Sympathy! What about?'
'Papa wants me to marry somebodywho comes pestering me every other day.'
Josephine looked disconsolately out of the window. The weary face was eloquent of the system under which she declared herself suffering.
'Somebody you do not like?' said Hazel.
'O I like himIlikehim pretty well; he's rather jolly on the whole; butthat's another thing from being married, you know. I like very well to have him round,bringing me flowers and doing everything I bid him; Ihavemade rather a slave of him, that's a fact; it's awfully ridiculous! He doesn't dare say his soul's his own, if I say it's mine, and I snub him in every other thing. But then it's another thing to go and marry him. Maybe he wouldn't like me to snub him, if I was his wife. Mamma don't dare do it to papa, I know; unless she does it on the sly.'
Hazel drew back rather coldly.
'I think it is extremely probable he would not like it,' she said. 'He is not much of a man, to stand it now.'
'Not?' cried Josephine. 'Why what is the good of a man if you can't snub him? And if a man pretends to like you, of course he'll stand anything you give him. O I like the bridle figure in the German that suits me;when I'm the driver; but the Germans are all over for this season. Aren't you awfully sorry?'
'No. And a girl ought to be ashamed to talk as you do, Josephine!'
'Now hush!Youshan't snub me. I came to you for comfort. Why ought I to be ashamed to talk so? Don'tyoulike to have your own way?'
'My own way does not trend in that direction,' said Miss Kennedy. 'And I should scorn to have it over such a weak thing as a man who would let a girl fool him to his face.'
'Men like such fooling. I know they do. I can do just what I like with them. But then if I was married,I don't suppose I could fool so many at once. Why, Hazel, if you don't have your own way with men who let you, whowillyou have it with? Not the men who won't let you;such a bluebeard of a man as your guardian, for instance. O do tell me! don't you sometimes get tired of living?'
'We are talking about your affairs this morning,' said Hazel. 'I should get tired of living, very soon, I think, at your rate.'
'I am,' said Josephine. And she looked so. 'Sometimes I am ready to wish I had never been born. What's the good of living, anyhow, Hazel, when the fun's over?'
'Fun?' Hazel repeated,how was she to tell this girl what seemed to her just now the good of living?
'Yes. You know all the summer there have been the garden parties and the riding parties, and the Germans, and the four-in-hand parties, and all sorts of delightful things; and now they're all over; and it makes me so blue! To be sure, by and by, there will be the season in town; but that won't be much till after the holidays, anyhow; and I feel horridly. And now comes Charteris bothering me. What would you do, Hazel?'
'What would I do?' Hazel repeated again, with a curious feeling that there was but one man in the world, and so of course whatcouldanybody do! A little shy of the subject too, and feeling her cheeks grow warm in the discussion. 'Do you like him very much, Josephine?'
'Very much?'deliberately. 'No. I don't think I like him very much. But papa says that will come fast enough when I am married. He says,you know Charteris is awfully rich,he says, papa says, this marriage will give me such a "position." Mamma don't conceive that one of her daughters can want position. But then, papa is a little lower down than mamma, you know. Well, I should have "position,' and everything else I wantcarriages and jewels, you know; diamonds; don't you like diamonds? I could have all I want. If I only could have them without the man!'
'You could live with him all your life, you think? by the help of the diamonds?'
'Papa says so. And mamma says so. I don't get any feeling at home. Annabella is wholly engaged in getting up parties to go to Dane Rollo's readings in Morton Hollow; that's all she thinks about. Isn't he too ridiculous?'
'I asked about Mr. Charteris,' said Wych Hazel, knitting her brows a little. 'And it is you who must live with himnot your father and mother. Could you do it, Josephine? with him alone?'
'One must live with somebody, I suppose,' said Josephine, idly pulling threads of wool from a foot mat near her.
'Well could you live without him?' said her questioner, taking a short cut to her point of view.
'Charteris? He ain't the jolliest man I know.'
'Answer!' said Hazel, knitting her brows again.
'Live without Charteris? I should say I could. From my present point of view. Easy! But it comes back to that awful bore, Hazel; a girl has got to be married. I wish I was a man.'
'Then I would,' said Wych Hazel quietly.
'What?'
'Live without Mr. Charteris. And as you cannot be a man, suppose you talk like a woman.'
'What do you mean?' said Phinney, looking doubtfully at her. 'I haven't come here to be snubbed, I know. Aren't you sorry for me?'
'No,not when you talk so. A girl has not "got to be married." And if you marry some one you can live without, you deserve what you will get.'
'What will I get?' said Josephine.
'John Charteriswithout the bouquets and the fooling.'
'I don't know but he's very good,' said Josephine meditatively. 'And Hazel, a girl can't live without getting married. What should I do, for instance?'
'Wait till the right person comes,' said Hazel. 'And if he never comes, be thankful that you escaped the wrong one.'
'But suppose the right person, as you call him, is poor?' said the young lady with a peculiar subdued inflexion of voice.
'O, is that it!' said Wych Hazel. 'Then if he thinks you can make him rich. I would keep up the delusion.'
'But Ican't, Hazel. Papa hasn't much to give any of us. He has just enough to get along with comfortably.'
'There are other things in the world besides money, I suppose?' said Hazel. 'And I know there could be no starvation wages for me, like diamonds from a hand I did not love.'
'I like diamonds though,' said Josephine. 'And it's dreadful to be poor.Youdon't know anything about it, Hazel. You're of no consequence, you have no power, nobody cares about you, even you've got to ask leave to speak; and then nobody listens to you! I mean, after you are too old to flirt. I don't want to be poor. And Mr. Charteris would put me beyond all that. He has plenty. And they say I would love him well enough by and by. It's such a bore!' And the young lady leaned her head upon her hand with a really disconsolate face.
'I thought you just said somebody does care about you?'
'Did I? I don't recollect.'
'You said "the right person" was poor. Which would seem to imply that he is in existence.'
'Well, he might just as well not,' said Josephine in the same tone. 'They would never hear of my marryinghim. It's all very nice to drive four-in-hand with somebody, and dance the German with him; and have good times at pic-nics and such things; but when it came to settling down in a little bit of a house, without a room in it big enough for a German; and ingrain carpets on the floorsI couldn't, Hazel!' said the girl with a shudder. 'And there it is, you see.'
Wych Hazel looked at herand then she laughed.
'There is nothing much more fearful than "the right person" on ingrain carpets,' she said mockingly. 'Except, perhaps, the wrong one on Turkey.'
'Turkey carpets are jolly under your feet,' said Josephine. 'And after all, I wonder if it matters so much about the man? At least, when you can't have the right one. Well, you don't help me much. Annabella wanted to know if you wouldn't join a party to hear Dane Rollo read, Saturday night? She is crazy about those readings.Ibelieve she's touched about him. Will you go?'
'No. Josephine, it matterseverythingabout the man,' said Hazel earnestly. 'What sort of a life do you expect, if you begin with a false oath?'
'A false oath?'
'Yes. Think what you have to promise.'
'What do I have to promise?'
'You know,' said Hazel impatiently. 'You have seen people married often enough to remember what they must say.'
'I never thought about what they said. It's just a form; that's all.'
'You would like to have Mr. Charteris considerhispart just a form?'
'I never thought anything else about it. It is a form that would give me a right to the diamonds, you know, or anything else his money could buy. O dear! if one could have the things without the man! Will you go to hear Rollo read?'
'Well you had better think about it,' said Hazel. 'If it isonlya form, it will give you a clear right to be miserable. I advise you to go straight home and study the words, and try them with different names. And do not really say them to anyone they do not fit. Do you hear me, Josephine?'
The girl was looking up in her face with a look strange for her; a look studious of Wych Hazel herself; searching, somewhat wondering, secretly admiring. The look went off to the window with a half sigh.
' "Fais que dois, advienne que pourra," ' Hazel added softly.
'I don't know what I ought to do!' said Josephine. 'How can I? If Stuart Nightingale had anything but what he spendsO what's the use talking about it, Hazel? Suppose I hadn't money to dress myself decently?'
'A man who has nothing but what he spends, spends too much,' said Wych Hazel, with a smile to herself over the duration of Mr. Nightingale's "life-long" heartbreak of the fall before. 'Do you mean that he would not spare a little for you?'
'He hasn't enough for both,' said Josephine, looking very dismal.'T'other one has enough for a dozen.'
'Did you never hear,' said her hostess laughing, 'thatin certain circumstances
' "Half enough for one, is always
' " More than just enough for two?" '
'No,' said Josephine abstractedly. 'Who comes here that rides a light bay horse?'
'Everybody comes here. But I seldom look at their horses. Why?'
'One went by just now. I was looking at the horse, and I hadn't time to see the rider. He'll come in, I suppose. If Annabella knew all, she wouldn't care so much about this match; for just as soon as I marry John Charteris, papa'll sell Paul Charteris his piece of land; and that's a job Dane Rollo wouldn't like.'
'Why not?' said Hazel with a desperate calmness, and her heart beginning to beat so that it half took her breath away. 'Is it land Mr. Rollo wants for himself?'
'He wouldn't like anybody else to have it, you bet!' replied Miss Powder, at last getting up from the floor and shaking herself into order. 'I must go.'
'But I said, why not?' Wych Hazel repeated. 'Thereyou have ripped off your flounce.'
'I did that getting out of the phaeton. O well!it'll have to go so till I get home. Everybody will know I didn't dress myself so on purpose; and besides, nobody will see it. Not till I get there. You haven't a needle and silk, have you, Hazel?'
'Yes, if you will come up to my room for it,' said Hazel, glad enough of an excuse to get her away. But Miss Powder had no mind to be spirited off. She had her own views, and excused herself.
'O thank you! but it's not worth while; and I can't wait, either.Well, I must go and meet my fate, I suppose.'
'What does Mr. Charteris want with more land?' said Hazel, arranging the torn flounce.
'O, to serve Rollo out, you know, for being so mean.'
'Is that it!' said Wych Hazel. 'How? I do not understand.'
'Why,' said Josephine, watching the door, which she expected would open to admit the rider of the bay horse whoever he might be, 'papa has a bit of land not worth much to him, just above Mr. Morton's ground that that pirate has bought; just above the mills. If Paul Charteris can get that, he will know what use to put it to. That will do, my dear, I dare say. I am awfully obliged for your care of my respectability.'
'What use?' said Hazel seriously. 'Here is one more tear'
'O I don't understand those things. Do you know whatwater powermeans?'
'Yes.'
'Wellif Paul Charteris gets that land,and if I marry John Charteris he willhe'll cut off the water power. I don't know what it means, nor how he'll do it; but Mr. Rollo's mills will stop. And in that case, somebody at home will hate Paul Charteris! Well, she'd better have stood by me then.'
The young lady detached herself at last, with a kiss to WychHazel, and bowled away in her little basket-wagon.
Hazel let her see herself out from the door of the drawing room, and then stood still in the middle of the floor with a hand on each side of her face. Not however considering the land question just then. She had seen Mr. Rollo but three times for a whole year,so ran the first thought. And she had not seen him at all, since the other night,so chimed in the second. And these three days of sleep and unconsciousness had confused the universe to that degree, that whether the world was round or triangular or square might be called a nicely balanced question. Had the bay horse stopped?then where was his rider?
Hazel darted out of a side door, and stood still to consider. Walked slowly along for a step or two, (flying about did not just agree with her to-day) then took her way to the red room, entering noiselessly; also by a side door. Blushing as if she had not done her duty in that respect the other day, and so had large arrears to make up; but not losing the delicate look even so.
'How do you do, Mr. Rollo?' she said softly, and holding out her hand,rather, it must be confessed, across a great easy chair which stood in the way. He had been making up the fire when she came in, and had looked up and let the tongs drop just before she spoke. Rollo was cool enough however to see the easy chair and come round it; but his greeting was grave and wordless. Perhaps he too remembered that she had not seen him since the other night. At any rate, anxiety and sympathy and infinite tenderness had more to express than could be put into words, for the power of words is limited. When he did speak, it was a simple demand to know how she did? 'Very well,' she said, softly as before.
'Isit very well?' he said earnestly. 'And how has it been these three days?'
'OI have been sleepy. As perhaps you heard,' she said, with the pretty curl of her lips.
He looked at her a minute, then suddenly releasing her, turned away to the fire and picked up his tongs again. 'I wish you would do something to comfort me!' he exclaimed. And the strong grey eyes were full of tears.
Hazel gave him an extremely astonished look, which went away, and came again, and once more came back, growing very wistful. She moved a step nearer to him, then stood still.
'What is it, Mr. Rollo?' she said with one of her sweet intonations, which was certainly 'comfort' so far as it went. 'What am I to do? I mean'she added timidly, 'what have I done?'for it was greatly Hazel's habit to somehow charge things back upon herself. But Rollo mended the fire with scrupulous exactness, put it in perfect order, set up his tongs; and then stood by the mantel-piece, leaning his elbows there and looking down at his work. Hazel watched him, at first with shy swift glances, then, as he did not look up, her look became more steady. What was he thinking of? It must be something she had done,something which he had just heard of, perhaps,some wild piece of mischief or thoughtlessness executed last summer or in the spring. Was he wondering whether he could ever bring her into order, and make her 'stand?'was he meditating the form of some new promise for her to take? winding in the ends of free action into a new knot which she was to draw tight? But (so circumstances do alter cases) it did not terrify her much, if he was; whatdidtry her, was to see him stand there wearing such a face, and to feel that in some way she was the cause of it. So she stood looking at him, not quite knowing all there was in her own face the while; and began to feel tired, and moved a soft step back again, and rested her hand on the great chair.
'Mr. Rollo'she ventured,'you never used to mind telling me of anywaysof mine, which you did not like; orthingsI had done. And I suppose I can bear it just as well now. Though that is not saying much, I am afraid.'
At her first word he had looked up, and when she had finished, came and put her into the big chair and sat down beside it. She dared not look at him now; his eyes were snapping with fun.
'What is all this?' he said. 'Whatdo you want me to tell you,Wych?'
'I thought Nothing,' she said rather hastily retreating within herself again. 'But I did not quite understand you, Mr. Rollo.'
'What do you consider the proper thing to do, when you do not understand me?'
A little inarticulate sound seemed to say that the course might vary in different cases. 'Generally,' said Hazel, 'I wait and puzzle it out by myself.'
'I wouldalwayslike to help you.'
She laughed a little, shyly, as ifaskinghelp were quite another matter, especially about unknown things. But pondering this one a minuteit looked so harmless,out it came, in Hazel's usual abrupt fashion.
'What you said about "comfort" Mr. Rollo,I did not suppose you had ever wanted comfort in your life.'
'Didn't you?' He did not want much just now!
'Well, what did you mean?'
'You suppose that I have been in a contented state of mind all summer, for instance?'
'The point in hand is, why you are less contented to-day,' saidHazel preserving her gravity.
'What made you faint at Gyda's?and why have you slept three whole days since?' he said gravely. 'You had better not bring it up, Wych, or I shall want comfort again.'
'Othese three days?' said Hazel. 'I have just been having my own way; as I told Mr. Falkirk; and it has agreed with me splendidly. It was no doing of mine, to send for Dr. Marylandbut Byo always fidgets over me.'
'And the fainting?and the walk over the hill? over rough and smooth, where your little feet must have had a hard time of it; and you laid it up against me?'
What had Gyda told him? Notthat, for that was not true. But what? Hazel's head drooped lower.
'Mr. Rollo,' she said seriously, 'if you do not cure yourself of your habit of making statements, some day you will acquire the habit of making mistakes.'
'No, I shall not,' he said coolly. 'You will not let me.'
Ifthatwere one, Hazel made no attempt to correct it; having no mind just then to deal with any of his mistakes, in any shape; remembering too exactly what some of them had been. So she sat very still, looking down at the two small folded hands, and wondered to herself if Mr. Rollo had cross-questioned Gyda? if he meant to cross-question her?and if he did, where she should hide? That fainting, that walk across the hill!even now, with three long days of oblivion between, and the sorrow and the doubt all pushed aside; even now, she could hardly bear the recollection; and just caught the deep sigh that was coming, and shut her lips tight, and kept it back.
Andthatwas what had troubled him! The colour flitted and changed in her cheeks, in the sort ofliveway Wych Hazel's colour had, and then the brown eyes gave a swift sidelong glance, to see what the owner of the grey ones was about?
He was studying her, as if he had a mind to find out all her thoughts in their secret hiding-places. But his attention was diverted now to something in his fingers, which he was unfolding and unwrapping; and presently he took one of the little folded hands, the left one, and put upon the forefinger a ring set with a very large emerald. The ring fitted; the stone was superb. Rollo laid the little hand, so beringed, in his own palm, and looked at it there; then his eye met Hazel's with a bright, sweet, peculiar smile.
'We shall never misunderstand each other again, Wych! Shall we?'
It was queer, to see the colour recede and get out of sight, as if gathering strength for its vivid return. But Hazel did not look at him, nor at the ring, not at anything,did not see anything, probably, just then. She caught her breath a little, finding her words one by one
'But Inevermisunderstoodyou,' she said.
'Would you like to stand an examination on that point?'
Hazel considered a little.
'I am willing to hear anystatements.'
'I thought just now you objected to them. However, it will be necessary for me to make a good many, sooner or later, just to make sure that you know what you are about in marrying me. But to begin with this emerald.Do you know what it means?'
It did occur to the girl, as she went on a foray after her thoughts, that she had no immediate intention of marrying anybody! But to use her own words, that was not the point in hand.
'Means?' she repeated,which of all the five hundred and forty things that it meant did Mr. Rollo wish to have set forth!'But you are to make statementsnot ask questions,' she said.
'It is an old jewel that I have had reset for you. I preferred it to a diamond, because it is a finer stone than any diamond in my possession, and because of the meaning, as I said. In the description of John's vision in the Revelation, it is said "there was a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like to an emerald."In Ezekiel's vision the word is, "as the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain." '
Partly shielding her face with her other hand, Hazel sat studying the ring, her eyes intent and grave and wide open as a child's.
'What does the rainbow mean?' he asked.
'It was a promise against desolationat first,' she said slowly; very unconsciously betraying what already the emerald was to her.
'The promise was against desolationthe bow was the sign for the faithfulness of the promiser. Where is your Bible?'
He went on, talking purposely to let Hazel find her composure, for he saw she was scarcely able to take her part in any conversation. So he went on. He knew she was listening.
'Do you see?the rainbow "like to an emerald"the rainbow "round about the throne,"that is the same as, "thy faithfulness round about thee," "O Lord, who is like unto thee, or to thy faithfulness round about thee!" So that is what the emerald means;faithfulness. First, your faith, and mine; and then, the strength and repose of that other faithfulness, which is round us both; in whichwe willbothwalk, Hazel, shall we not?'
He could not tell what she was thinking of. Not of him, apparently, for the look on the face was far away, as if thought had followed his words quite out of sight; yet more to something past than towards other things to come. So leaning her head on her hand she sat, and thenstill full of her thoughtlooked up at him, the same child's look of intentness, with words all ready on her lips.
'Then in those days,' she began But then came the sudden recollection of whom she was speaking to, and what a stranger he was, and that he was not a stranger at all; with probably some quick realization of what she was going to say; for the scarlet flushed up all over her face again, and her head went down on her hand, and she was silent.
'What "in those days?"I want the rest of it.'
'O, the rest of it is more than you think,' said Hazel. 'And it is a great way off. I should have to take you miles and miles. And I would rathernot.'
He smiled at her, seeing the beautiful shyness that did not separate her from him, but only put such a bloom on the fruitsuch a fragrance in the flower. He was content. The freedom and fearlessness of older affection would come in time, and it would be pleasant to see it come. He would not hurry her; indeed, as he once had told her he never asked for what he could not have, so neither did he care for what was enforced in the giving. Better a free smile than a kiss bestowed to order. He saw now that she was hardly ready for many things he had it in his heart to say. He could wait. The readiness was there, only latent. He played with the hand and the ring while he was thinking these things.
But now all through the old house rang out the sweet bugle call; signal for luncheon. No bells, as has been remarked, were heard at Chickaree. Just a moment's hesitation came over the young mistress, with visions of Dingee and possibilities of Mr. Falkirk, and one glance at her ring. Then she turned to Mr. Rollo, giving her timid invitation as she rose up. 'You will come?' she said, and flitted off quick to lead the way, having no sort of mind to go in state. Rollo followed more slowly, smiling to himself.
'Do you often have company from the cottage at this time?' he inquired when he had again caught up with Wych Hazel in the dining room.
'Sometimesbut I gave Mr. Falkirk such a talk at breakfast that I shall hardly see him again before dinner. Dingee, where is the coffee? You know Mr. Rollo never touches chocolate.'
'Know dat_ sartain,' said Dingee; 'but Mas' Rollo come in so'
'Go fetch the coffee,' said Hazel, cutting him short.
Rollo remarked as he seated himself at the table, that he 'didn't feel as if he could stand Mr. Falkirk to-day.'
'He is very much the same as on most days,' said Hazel. 'I thought you always rather enjoyed "standing" him, Mr. Rollo?'
'It is becoming necessary for me to make so many statements,' saidRollo, 'that I am getting puzzled. I am very sorry for Mr. Falkirk.What sort of a talk did you give him?'
'Mr. Falkirk was so uncommonly glad to see me, that I should have been all sugar and cream if he had not beset me with business. As it was, I am afraid Iwasn't.'
'Not my business?'
'Your business? The mills?'
'Ourbusiness, then.'
'Hush!No! I have not got any,' said Hazel, whose spirits and daring were beginning to stir just a little bit once more, though she felt a little frightened at herself when the words were out. 'Mr. Falkirk wanted to know my sovereign pleasure about retaking the house we had last winter.'
'I am very sorry for Mr. Falkirk!' Rollo repeated gravely. 'Do you thinkby and by, when we have been married a year or two, and he is accustomed to it,we could get him to come and make home with us!'
Hazel looked at him for a second, as if he took her breath away; but then she looked at nothing elseor did not see it, which came to the same thing,for some time. Dingee appeared with baskets and bouquets, after the old fashion, which had grown to be an established one at Chickaree; and his mistress looked at them and ordered them away, and read the cards, and did not know what names she read. But in all the assortment of beauties there was never a rose one bit sweeter or fresher than the face that bent down over them.
One afternoon, a day or two later, Rollo had begged for a walk in the woods; proposing that they should 'begin to get acquainted with each other.' The trees were beginning to shew crimson and gold and brown and purple, and the October light wove all hues into one regal drapery of nature, not richer than it was harmonious. The warm air was spicy; pines and hemlocks gave out resinous sweetness, and ferns and lichens and mosses and other wild things lent their wild wood flavour. It was rare in the Chickaree woods that day. Fallen leaves rustled under foot, squirrels chattered in the branches, partridges whirred away. Down through the shadow and the light they went, those two, talking irregularly of all sorts of things. Rollo was skilled in all wild wood lore and very fond of it. He could talk deliciously on this theme, and he did; telling Wych Hazel about trees and woodwork and hunter's sports and experiences, and then of lichens and the rocks they grew on.
Into the depths of the ravine they plunged, and then over a ridge into another; away from paths and roads and the possibility of wheels and riders. Then Rollo found a mossy dry bank where Wych Hazel might sit down and rest, with her back against the stem of a red oak. He roved about gathering acorns under the wide spreading boughs of the tree, and finally came and threw himself down at her feet.
'This is pleasant,' he said, looking along the brown slope, brown with mosses and fallen leaves, on which the wonderful light came so richly and so tenderly. 'This is pleasant! Is the sense of possession a strong one with you?'
'I love my woodsdearly! I never had much elsethat was my ownto care about.'
'I believe it is strong in me. I can enjoy other people's thingsbut I think I like them better when they are my own. I fancy it is a man's weakness.'
'What did you mean by "beginning to get acquainted?" ' said Hazel, from under the protecting shadow of her broad hat, and with her mind so full of unanswered questions that it seemed as if some of them must come out, even if they did get her into difficulties. 'I thought youthoughtyou knew me pretty thoroughly.'
He rolled himself over on the bank, so that he could look up at her comfortably, and answered laughing,
'What did you think about me?'
'O I knew about you,' said Hazel.
'How long ago?'
'Different things at different times. Mr. Rollo,'with a little blush and hesitation,'will you tell me how you knew the size of my finger?'
'Let me look at it.' And he took the little hand, tried the ring up and down the finger, kissed it, and finally let it go.
'It fits' was all his remark.
Ifthatis the way you are always ready to help me!Hazel thought. But as no such idea could venture out, and as the next question that stood ready was altogether too much "in line," a squirrel up in the tree had it all to himself for a few minutes. Rollo waited for the next question to come, but as it tarried he remarked quietly,
'You may remember, I had a glove of yours in my possession.'
'You. Where did you get it?'
'I picked it up. I have often done that for ladies' gloves;but I never kept one before.'
'You picked it up?' Hazel repeated slowly. 'Ineverlose my gloves. And you are not one of those silly people who steal them. Where did you pick it up, Mr. Rollo?'
A sort of shadow crossed his face, as he answered, 'One nightin the woodswhere it was a mere little point of light in the gloom.'
'O!' she said eagerly, looking up,'did you? that night? I remember. And you kept it.Then, Mr. Rollo?' The soft, surprised intonation of the last three words left them anything but incoherent.
'Well?' said he smiling.
'I wish I had known you had it. That glove gave me a great deal of trouble.'
'Why?'
'I was so much afraid it had got into the wrong hands. But when wasthisdone?' she said, eyes and words going back to the ring again. 'Not sincethe other day?'
'Hardly! No. It was done last winter.' And Rollo's eyes flashed and laughed at her, a kind of soft lightning. Hazel laughed the least bit too, in return; but then her head went down as low as it gracefully could, and under the shadow of her broad hat she questioned. Had she betrayed herselfthen, to him? What has she said? what had she done, that night? Her face rested on her hand in the very attitude of perplexity.
'Come,' said Rollo, 'you are finding out a good deal about me that you did not know before. You had better go on.'
'Did you buy up the whole Hollow?' said Hazel abruptly. 'All the way from the mills up to Gyda'sMrs. Boërresen'scottage?'
'No,' said Rollo, with a somewhat surprised recognition of the change of subjects; 'not yet. I have obtained possession only of the mills which were held by Morton himself. Those are the two cotton mills, and one of the woollen mills, which had lately reverted to him from the closing of the lease term and the inability of the former lessee to make any agreement for a new one. Further down the Hollow below me, lie the woollen mills of Paul Charteris.'
'And there is nothing above you yet, but the water and the land?'
'No. Nor like to be. The head of the valley is owned by Gov.Powder; and he has neither means nor inclination to do anythingwith it. It would be better for me to own it, though. Why,Hazel?'with a smile.
'Why had you better own it?'
'I want to get control of the whole Hollow as fast as I can; and then, I want to keep the control.'
'Well, but whydon'tyou then?' said Hazel. 'What is the use of waiting?'
'I am not ready to build more mills yet. And there are other reasons, Hazel. Mr. Falkirk thinks I am jeopardizing my money. I do not think so, nor intend it. I believe in the long run I shall prosper. But for the present, and for awhile, I shall be at a disadvantage, it may be; because I am paying larger wages and receiving less profits than my neighbours, and I must keep capital free to bear me and my workmen out through the time of trialif it is to come. I mean never to have so much capital embarked in the mills, that I should have nothing to carry my hands and myself through a dead calm. You see' Rollo continued with again a smile,'being a careful navigator, I mean to carry the wind in my pocket.'
Hazel followed his words with attentive eyes as well as ears, and then went off into a brown study, with her chin on her hand.
'Well,' said Rollo, 'what is all this catechism for?'
'It is good practice,' she said, coming out of her abstraction with a laugh. 'I suppose you never knew before that there are two sides to a catechism?'
'Go on,' said Rollo. 'This is the beginning.'
'Beginningof what?'
'My catechism.'
'It is the end of it, for the present. But it seems to me, Mr. Rollo, that is, I know it seems to you that I am talking great nonsense,' said Hazel breaking off again. 'Do you live up at Mrs. Boërresen's all the time?'
'For the most partexcept when I take a run down to my old home. But yes, Iliveat Gyda's.'
Unspoken questions came up in her eyes, but the words came not, and the eyes themselves went down to the crimson leaf she was thoughtfully drawing through her fingers. Rollo was silent too. Half sitting half lying on the leafy slope, he was busying himself with gathering together all the acorns and acorn-cups within his reach, examining them carefully one by one, and yet with a face that grew grave and became abstracted. More time passed than he knew probably, and Hazel had leisure to come out of her own abstractions and wonder at his. He did not look as if he remembered her presence; and yet a sensible woman has no objection to such indications in a man's face,even a man that loves her,as Hazel saw now; the grave purpose, the manly power, the thoughtful reserve. When at last he spoke and looked up, he was grave still.
'Have you any idea what you are to expect, Hazel?'
'Expect!'Then rather slowly, 'I believe I am not given to expectations.'
Then he smiled, but went on, 'Do you remember our talk that evening, last winter?'
'Of course.'
'Then you know in what service I have taken a commission?'
'I know.'
The quiet reserved voice seemed suddenly to lose its flexibility, and the crimson leaf came fluttering down from between her fingers.
'Are you content, Hazel? This fact will make my life more or less what people call singular.'
'But you were always called that,' she said without looking at him.
'Was I? It will be in another way now, Wych. How will you like it?'
'It? your life?very well, I suppose. If I like you,' she answered frankly, though in the same deliberate, abstracted way.
'But a soldier must obey orders, and has no choice. Are you content to go with me, upon such conditions?'
She turned upon him with eyes that seemed half inquiry, half surprise, her colour flitting back and forth in its vivid way. Then she rose suddenly to her feet, and setting her back against the tree and dropping her folded hands, stood looking down at him.
'Will you tell me exactly what you mean?' she said.
He rose too and stood beside her.
'It would never do for me to go one way, and my wife another.'
From under the shield of her drooping hat Hazel answered. 'Suppose you have to meet that difficulty? Suppose I should say I amnotcontent?'
'I will tell you, when you have said it.'
'No,' she said,'before. I am not content with anything till you do.'
'I should know in that case I had something to do, Hazel.'
'That is waiving the question.'
'No, for that something would beto make you willing.'
She unclasped her hands, putting behind her round the tree.
'How, Mr. Rollo?'
'I suppose'demurely'I should use my influence.'
'Twenty questions!' said Hazel. 'If I were not content, it would show that you had not much influence to use.'
'Are you content, Hazel?'
'How are you going to be singular?' she said abruptly.
'It's my turn'said he smiling, 'Hazel, are you content?'
'But you always ask suchunreasoningquestions.'
'Give me a reasonable answer."
'I am never anything but reasonable,' she said; 'it is you. You want to know if I am content to have you true to yourself,that is about the point, is it not? I think, on the whole, I am.'
'Will you help me?'
'So far as I can. But remember, that may not be very far.'
'I want your help a dozen ways at this moment.'
'Would you like to specify just a few?'
'You will see, as soon as you begin to get the run of what I am doing. I want counselI want coöperation. I want you to set me upon some of the woman's work that a man does not readily find out for himself. I am going to take you off to the Hollow as soon as you are quite strong enough.'
'I should think you would prefer to have me set myself upon the "woman's work," ' said Wych Hazel.
He smiled provokingly and observed that there was enough for her and him too.
'Well' said Hazel, with a certain postponement in her voice.
'Well, what?'
'There is no "what" in sight at present, Mr. Rollo.'
'I shall have to give you lessons severely! Look at that acorn.Don't you like acorns?'
'Very much. But best, I think, in the spring, when they are struggling into life,shooting up and shooting down,shewing their possibilities. They are lovely then, with their little crumpled pink leaves.'
'That's the next stage. I want to make my life like that acorn as it is now, full rounded to its utmost fruitage. So many lives are like these empty cups,with the fruit lost.'
Hazel balanced one of the cups on the tip of her finger, thoughtfully. 'I suppose they are,' she said. 'Good for nothing but to look at.'
'Do you think such lives good to look at?'
'Sometimes pretty to look at. Just as this cup is, till you remember that it is empty.'
'Hazel, did you study the lesson I gave you last winter?'
'I have studied it. Yes.'
'And the result? '
Looking down at the olive moss tufts at her feet, she answered, slowly,
'I am notquitesure.'
'You can talk just as well if you are resting,' said Rollo; and he pulled her down to her place again, and threw himself on the bank beside her. 'Now go on,' he said, 'and tell me all about it.'
But "all about it" was a great deal. As the fireside musings, the long night watches, the fears and questionings and perplexities came up one by one and flung their shadows over her face, Hazel answered,
'No, I cannot do that.'
'I am the very person to help your perplexities.'
'But that is assuming you know what they are!'
'Never mind. You will find it is rue. What makes the confusion,Wych?'
The voice was a temptation; manly and clear, and thrilled through with a hidden tenderness in the last words. Rollo was not studying her face, but piling up his acorns on the ground between them.
'Everything helped make it.'
'Yes. Well?'
'It was not "well" at all,' said Hazel. 'I do not like tangles. And this was unmitigated. I could not pull out one single smooth thread, and present it for your inspection, Mr. Rollo.'
'Unpractical,' said Rollo. 'Make some statement of what you do know.'
'Statements are not precisely in my line,' said Hazel. 'And I am not the least in the habit of telling all I know.'
'Hitherto.'
Hazel did not immediately answer. She sat watching the heap of acorns and the hand that was arranging them, a quiet smile upon her lips. What had she said to Josephine about "diamonds from a hand that you do not love"?whereas even acorns, from a hand that
With a sudden scarlet flush she turned away, and bending down on the other side, began to gather mosses on her own account.
'Come, Hazel,' said her companion'the tangle has got to be encountered, and I think we shall go into it most safely together.'
'I could not tell you,' she said, 'and you could not tell me. Nobody but oneself can disentangle "why" and "whether" and "what".'
Rollo cast a quick glance up at her, which probably brought him all the intelligence he wanted; for he only remarked audaciously that she 'would know better some day.'
'I could not make you understand, Mr. Rollo. And unless you understood, you would just think there could not be room in my head for a single spark of sense.'
'You don't know what I think of your head. Wellif you see a little shoot of confidence in me starting up in your mind, encourage it, Hazel!'
'I shall never see it, Mr. Rollo.'
'Nor encourage it, of course. WellI am in a bad way.'
'Things pass the acorn stage, you know,' she said, laughing a little.
'Yes. Do you remember my having once had the honour to remark to you, that I objected to be treated as an old guardian?'
'No,' said Hazel,'you asked me if I expected to do it. But perhaps that meant the same thing in those days.'
'Perhaps it did. What do you think of it in these days?'
Hazel made a sudden transition.
'Will you like to come and go chestnutting in these woods, Mr. Rollo? The Powders all say that I promised them such a day, though I am sure I do not remember it.'
'I don't remember it,' said Rollo lazily.
'As you were not here when I am said to have made the promise, I do not see how you should. But it is needful I should ask you, or Mr. Falkirk will askas he did once before upon you non- appearanceif you have offended me.'
'Is the day fixed?'
'No. But they say I have promised.'