'Yes, but I thought it was Dr. Maryland's?' she said looking at him with astonished eyes. 'And you speak—Ah, you do not know, as I said, after all. You never wanted anything that a man could not give you.'
He laughed a little, his eye brightening and changing as he looked at her with a very winning expression.
'I had all that a man could give me. Dr. Maryland was father and mother in one, gentle and strong. But I have been in wardship under a woman too, partially, and it was as I tell you. Dr. Maryland would say: "Dane, don't go there," or "let that alone," and Idid, except when a very wicked fit got hold of me. Butshewould stick a cushion with pins, to keep me out of it, and if she wanted to keep a cup from my lips she rubbed gall where my lips would find it.'
'Twoguardians!' said Wych Hazel; 'so that queer woman at Catskill thoughtIhad. But it is a great deal harder to have a man find fault with you, nevertheless.'
'Why?' said Rollo, laughingly and seriously too.
'They are so quick in their judgments,' said the girl; 'so sure about the evidence. The jury agree without retiring, and sentence is passed before you are summoned to attend your own trial. You are out of play; you suddenly find yourself convicted of manslaughter in the fourth degree—or the fiftieth; it makes no difference.' The words came out with her usual quick emphasis, and then Miss Hazel remembered that one or two of her words were suggestive. She flushed very much, drooping her head.
'Coroner's inquest?' said Rollo, with a mixture of gentleness and fun. But she made no answer, unless by the soft laugh which hardly let itself be heard. He stretched out his hand again, laying it this time lightly upon hers, altering its bearing.
'Curb him in a little more,' said he, 'a little—so. Now touch him gently on the shoulder. What is it you think you miss so much in a man's guardianship?'
She looked round at him then—one of her girlish, searching looks, resolving perhaps how far it was safe to be confidential.
'A good many things, Mr. Rollo,' she answered, slowly. 'I do not believe you could understand. But I would rather have fourteen lectures from Mrs. Bywank than just to hear one of Mr. 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 coming to 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 the position officially—when there was nobody at Chickaree, I used to go nutting in your woods and fishing in the same brook which will, I hope, give me some trout to-day; and when I was thoroughly wetted with a souse in the water, or had torn my clothes half off my back in climbing to the tops of the trees, I used to carry my fish ad my difficulties to Mrs. Bywank. She cooked the one and she mended the other; we eat the fish in company, and parted with the promise to meet again. Seems to me I ought to have had lectures, but I didn't get them from her.'
'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 another canter?'
There was a mile of smooth way between them and the grounds of Moscheloo; a level road bordered with Lollard poplars. The grey went well, spite of his age and steadiness, and Vixen behaved her prettiest; but she was not much of a steed after all, and just now was shewing the transforming power of a good rider. And the rider was good company. They came to the open gate of Moscheloo, and began to ascend more slowly the terraced road of the grand entrance. The house stood high; to reach it the avenue made turn after turn, zig-zagging up the hill between and under fine old trees that overshadowed its course.
'Here we are, said Rollo, looking up toward the yet distant house. 'How many people do you suppose there will be here that know anything about fish!'
'Why, it is a fishing party!' said Wych Hazel. 'I suppose I am the only one who doesnotknow.'
'I will tell you beforehand what to expect. There will be a great deal of walking, a good deal of luncheon, a vast deal of talk, and a number of fishing rods. I shouldn't be surprised if you caught the first fish. The rest will be dinner.'
'And you will reverse that,' said Wych Hazel,—'little dinner and 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 a laugh.
'Not just in that sense,' said Rollo, smiling. 'Only keep him from getting lost in the woods.'
'He has nothing to do in the woods till I come,' said Wych Hazel. 'And I thought you said you were off for a day's fishing?'
'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 only surprise. She looked away, and as it were tossed off the first words that came. Then with very sedate deliberation:
'Mr. Rollo, I do not allowanybodyto practice woodcraft among my trees without my special oversight. Not even Mr. Falkirk.'
'Suppose Mr. Falkirk takes a different view,' said Rollo, also sedately, '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 out and 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.'
Several people were on the steps before the door, watching and waiting for them. The house shewed large and stately; the flight of steps imposing. Hot-house plants stood around in boxes; 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 after dismounting Wych Hazel, and so disappointing the gentleman who wanted to do it, Rollo excused himself and set off down the hill again. Mme. Lasalle turned to Wych Hazel, and led her, with flying introductions by the way, to the stairs and up to a dressing-room.
'It is quite charming to see you, and to think that Chickaree is inhabited and has a mistress—it makes Moscheloo, I assure you, several degrees brighter. Now, my dear, what will you have?—is it nothing but to take off this habit-skirt?—let me undo it. What an odd mortal that is, that came with you!'
But to that Wych Hazel answered nothing. The light riding skirt and jacket taken off, left her in green from head to foot. A daring colour for a brunette. But her own tint was so clear and the mossy shade of her dress was so well chosen, that the effect was extremely good. She looked like a wood nymph.
'Charming!—vraie Française'—said Madame, softly. 'That is a coquettish 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?—then do you read other people's? Rollo—do you know him well?'
Mme. Lasalle was somewhat officiously but with great attention stroking into order one or two of Wych Hazel's curls which the riding 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 all like power. Did you notice that Miss Powder down stairs, that I introduced to you?'
'Hardly.'
'You had no time. She's a sweet creature. Oh, no, you hadn't time; but I want you to see her do-day. I have a little plan in my head.' And Mme. Lasalle left the curls and whispered with a serious face. 'She'sthe young lady Rollo paid so much devotion to before he went abroad. Everybody knew that; and I know he liked her; but then, you see, he went off, and nothing came of it; but it's a pity, for Mrs. Powder would have been much pleased, I know, with her large family of daughters—to be sure, she has married two of them now;—but what is worse,' (in a lower whisper) 'Annabella would have been pleased too; and she hasn't been pleased since. Now isn't it a shame?'
Wych Hazel considered the matter. With a curious feeling of disbelief in her mind, which (without in the least knowing where 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. One sees a great many disagreeable things, but it's no use to think about it. It was nothing very bad in Rollo, you know; he has that way with him, of seeming to like people; but it don't mean anything,exceptthat he does like them. O, I know that he liked her—and I am going to make you accomplice in a little plot of mine. I won't tell you now—by and by, when you have seen Annabella a little more. I would have asked Dane to join our party to-day, but I didn't dare—I was afraid he would guess what I was at. Now, my dear, I won't keep you up here any longer. Pardon me, you are charming! If Dane sees much of you, I am afraid my fine scheming will do Annabella no good!' And shaking her head gaily, the lady ran down stairs followed by Wych Hazel.
There was a great muster then of fishing-rods and baskets; and everybody being provided, the company was marshalled forth, each lady being under the care of a gentleman, who carried her basket and rod. Wych Hazel found herself without knowing how or why, leading the march with Mr. Lasalle. He proved rather a sober companion. A sensible man, but thoroughly devoted to business, his French extraction seemed to have brought him no inheritance of grace or liveliness—unless Mme. Lasalle had acted as an absorbent and usurped it at all. He was polite, and gave good host-like attention to his fair little companion; but it was as well for her that the walk presently sufficed of itself for her entertainment. They went first across several fields, where the sun beat down freely on all their heads, and divers fences gave play to the active and useful qualities of the gentlemen. Suddenly from the last field they went down a grassy descent—and found themselves at the side of a brook.
Well, it was a good-sized brook, overhung with a fine bordering of trees that shaded and sheltered it. The ladies cried 'lovely!'—and so it was, after the sunshiny fields on a warm June morning. But this was not the fishing ground. The brook must be followed up to the woods whence it came. And soon the banks became higher and broken, the ascent steeper, the trees closer; no longer a mere fringe or veil to the fostering waters. Fields were forgotten; the brook grew wild and lively, and following its course became a matter of some difficulty. Sometimes there was no edge of footing beside the stream; they must take to the stones and rocks which broke its way, or cross it by fallen trees, and recross again. The woods made a thicket of wilderness and stillness and green beauty and shady sweetness, invaded just now by an inroad of fashion and society.
Like a sprite Wych Hazel led the van, making her way over rocks and through vine tangles and across the water, after a fashion attainable by no other feet. Mr. Lasalle had no trouble but to follow; had not even the task of hearing exclamations or being entertained; for Wych Hazel had by no means acquired that amiable habit of society which is full dress upon all occasions. To-day she was like a child out of school in her gleeful enjoyment, only very quiet. So she flitted on through the mazes of the wood and the brook, making deep remarks to herself over its dark pools, perching herself on a rock for a backward look at Miss Powder, and then darting on. The party in the rear, struggling after, eyed her in the distance 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, 'the fairy tale remembrance of a marvellous bird with green plumage—which flitting along before the traveller did thereby allure him to his captivity. Are you pledge for Miss Kennedy's good faith?'
'I am pledged for nothing. I advise you to take care of yourself, Mr. May—I have no doubt she is dangerous. Haven't we come far enough? Do run down the line, and tell them all to stop where they are; we must not be too close upon one another. And when you come back I will reward you with another commission.'
While Mr. Simms was gone down the brook, however, Mme. Lasalle permitted the pair next below to pass her and go up to stop Mr. Lasalle and Wych Hazel from proceeding any further. So it came to pass that the highest group on the stream was composed of four instead of two; and the additional two were Stuart Nightingale and Miss Annabella Powder. Now the fishing rods were put into the ladies' hands; now the cavaliers attentively supplied their hooks with what was supposed to be bait, and performing afterwards the same office for their own, the brook presently 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 line in 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 lady wishes 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,' said Stuart, laughing. 'That sport is old already. There must be difficulty to give interest, Lasalle, you know.'
'You gentlemen are complimentary,' said Miss Powder.
'Upon my word, I said what I thought,' replied the first gentleman.
'Miss Kennedy,' called Stuart out from his post down the brook; 'should compliments be true or false, to be compliments? Miss Powder is too indignant to be judge in the case.'
'I do not see how false ones can compliment,' said the lady in green, much intent upon her line. 'There!—Mr. Lasalle—is that what 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 were talking of what thingsare—not what they seem.'
'You may observe,' said Mr. Lasalle, 'that most people find it amusing to get bites—if only they don't know there's no fish at the end of them.' Mr. Lasalle spoke feelingly, for he had just hooked and drawn up what proved to be a bunch of weeds.
'But where there is,' said Wych hazel. 'There! Mr. Lasalle, I have got your fish!' and swung up a glittering trophy high over the gentleman's head.
'The first fish caught, I'll wager!' cried Stuart; and he looked at his watch. 'Twenty-seven minutes past twelve. Was that skill or fortune, Miss Kennedy?'
'Neither, sir,' observed Mr. Simms, who had wandered that way in search of a hook. 'There was no hope of Miss Kennedy's descending to the bed of the brook—what could the fish do but come 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 line with a demure face.
Alas! it was the beginning and ending of their good fortune for some time. Mr. Simms went back to his place; Mr. Lasalle disengaged the fish and rearranged the bait; and all four fell to work, or to watching, with renewed animation; but in vain. The rods kept their angle of suspension, unless when a tired arm moved up or down; the fishers' eyes gazed at the lines; the water went running by with a dance and a laugh; the fish laughed too, perhaps; the anglers did not. There were spicy wood smells, soft wood flutter and flap of leaves, stealing and playing sunbeams among the leaves and the tree stems; but there was too much Society around the brook, and nobody heeded all these things.
'Well, what success?' said Mme. Lasalle coming up after a while. 'What have you caught? One little fish! Poor little thing! Is that all? Well, it's luncheon time. Lasalle, I wish you'd go and see that everybody is happy at the lower end of the line; and I'll do your fishing meanwhile. Oh, Simms has almost killed me! Stuart! do take charge of that basket, will you?'
Mr. Nightingale receiving the basket from the hands of a servant, inquired of his aunt what he was to do with it.
'Mercy! open it and give us all something—I am as hungry as I can be. What have you all been doing that you haven't caught more fish? My dear,' (to Wych Hazel), 'that is all you will get till we go home; we came out to work to-day.'
And Stuart coming up, relieved her of her fishing rod, found a pleasant 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 new position. 'How beautiful everything is to-day! Certainly I have learned something about brooks.'
'And something about fishing?'
'Not much.'
'The best thing about fishing,' said Stuart, after serving the other ladies and coming back to her, 'is that it gives one an appetite.'
'Oh, then you have not studied the brook.'
'Certainly not,' said he, laughing, 'or only as one studies a dictionary—to see what one can get out of it. Please tell me, what did you?'
'New thoughts,' she said. 'And new fancies. And shadows, and colours. 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 bright eyes. He was a handsome fellow, and a gentleman from head to foot. So far at least as manners can make it.
'I do not judge from appearances. Do you care to know what I judge from?'
'Your judgment cannot have been worth much just now,' said Wych Hazel, shaking her head. 'But I am willing to hear what led it astray.'
'What led it,—not astray,—was your calm declining of all but true words of service.'
'O, had you gone backthere?' she said. 'I think it takes very little philosophy to decline what one does not want.'
'Evidently. But how came you not to want what everybody else wants? There is the philosophy, you see. If you bring all things down to bare truth, you will be Diogenes in his tub presently.'
' "Bare truth!" '—said the girl. 'How people say that, as if truth were only a lay figure!'
'But think how disagreeable truth would often be, if it were not draped! Could you stand it? I beg pardon! I mean, not you, but other people!'
'Ihavestood it pretty often,' said the girl with a grave gesture 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 of pleasure or admiration in his face. 'It is a disagreeable truth,' said he, 'that that is not a good sandwich. Permit me to supply its place with something else. Here is cake, and nothing 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 the brook shadows. 'But I will have another sandwich, Mr. Nightingale—if there is one. At least, if there is more than one!'
'Ah,' said Stuart, 'you shall have it, and you shall not know the state of the basket. Those two people have so much to talk about, they have no time to eat!' And he took another sandwich himself.
'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 made acquaintance there one day when I went in to light a cigar. I have a mind to ask you to give me the distinction I am ready to claim, of being your oldest acquaintance in these parts. I think I shall claim it yet. Let me look at the state of your hook.'
They dropped their lines in the brook again, but no fish were caught, and fish might cleverly have run away with their bait several times without being found out. The conversation was lively for some time. Stuart had sense and was amusing, and had roamed about the world enough to have a great deal to say. The pair were not agreeably interrupted after half an hour by Mme. Lasalle, who discovered that Wych Hazel was fishing where she could get nothing, and brought her down the brook to the close neighbourhood of Miss Powder, where Stuart's attentions had to be divided. But so the two girls had a chance to see something of each other; a chance which Miss Powder improved with manifest satisfaction. She was a wax-Madonna sort of beauty, with a sweet face, fair, pure, placid, but either somewhat impassive or quite self-contained in its character. Her figure was good, her few words showed her not wanting in sense or breeding.
Wych Hazel was by this time far enough out of the reserve of first meetings to let the exhilarating June air and sunshine do their work, and her voice, never raised beyond a pretty note, was ready with laugh and word and repartee. Now studying her hook, now questioning Miss Powder, now answering Mr. Nightingale, and then seriously devoted to her fishing,—she shewed the absolute sport of her young joyous nature, a thing charming in itself, even without so piquant a setting. It was no great wonder that a gentleman now and then took ground on the opposite side of the brook, and directed his eyes as if the fish would only come from that point of the shore where Miss Kennedy sat. This happened more and more, as by degrees the line of fishers was broken and the unskilled or unsuccessful, tired of watching the water, gave it up, and strolled up the brook to see who had better luck. And so few fish were the result of the day's sport, so many of the company had nothing better to do than to look at what somebody else was doing, that by degrees nearly the whole party were gathered around that spot where Wych Hazel had caught the first fish. They were relieved, perhaps, that the effort was over; perhaps the prospect of going home to dinner was encouraging; certainly the spirits of all the party were greatly enlivened by something. Mme. Lasalle's ears heard the pleasant sound of voices in full chorus of speech and laughter all the way home.
It was rather late before Madame's carriage could be ordered to take Miss Kennedy home. Mme. Lasalle herself attended her, and would suffer the attendance of no one else. A young moon was shedding a delicious light on the Lollard poplars past which Wych Hazel had cantered in the morning. It was an hour to be still an enjoy, and think; but did Mme. Lasalle ever think? She ceased not to talk. And Wych Hazel, after her day of caressing and petting and admiration, how was she? She had caught the first fish; she had been queen of the feast; she had given the first toast, she had received the first honours of every eye and ear in the company. Her host and hostess had lavished all kindness on her; ladies had smiled; and gentlemen, yes, six gentlemen had come down the steps to put her 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 asked on the way.
'Dr. Maryland's, of course, ma'am.'
'O, that's where we all go, of course; delightful creature that he is. And yet he rebukes every single individual thing that one does. Dear Dr. Maryland, he's so good, he don't see what is going in his own family. Do you know, it makes me unhappy when I think of it. But, my dear, that's the very thing I wanted to talk to you about,—Miss Powder, you've seen her, aren't you pleased with her?'
'She was very pleasant to me.'
'She is that to everybody, and her mother is a very fine woman. Now, my dear, you will be at your pleasure, seeing your friends at Chickaree—couldn't you contrive to bring Dane and Annabella together again?'
'I?' said Wych Hazel, surprised. 'Why, I do not know how to contrive things for myself.'
'O! I do not mean anything complicated—that never does well; but you could quite naturally, you know, give them opportunities of seeing each other pleasantly. I think if he saw her he might come round again and take up his old fancy; and you being a stranger, you know, might do it without the least difficulty or gaucherie; they would meet quite on neutral ground, for nobody would suspect that you wereau faitof our country complications. I dare not stir, you see; that was 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 told you 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 quite capable of 'contriving' his own situations; but she answered only, 'Would it, ma'am?'
'It couldn't do any harm, you know. And you are the very person to do it. And then, if your plan should succeed, it would have another good effect, to put Primrose Maryland in safety.'
If it had been daylight instead of moonlight, Mme. Lasalle might have seen the young face at her side knit itself into a very perplexed state indeed at these words; and the more Hazel thought the deeper she got.
'It would be quite natural, you know,' Mme. Lasalle went on after a pause, 'that a girl like her should be fascinated, and Rollo, without meaning to do any harm, would give her cause enough. Heisfascinating you know, but he is too cool by half. Dr. Maryland, of course, never would see or understand what was going on; and Primrose is so sweet and inexperienced. I know her sister was very uneasy about it before Rollo went away—so long ago. I fancy his going was partly thanks to her care.'
Closer and closer came the dark brows together, until by degrees her extremely fancy-free thoughts took a turn. 'What a fuss! what was Mme. Lasalle talking about? "Fascinating," forsooth!—she should like to see anybody that could fascinate her.' 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 many of that sort live on shore?'
'Take care!' said the lady in a different tone—'dangers that are slighted are the first to be run into.'
The carriage stopped at that moment, so Wych Hazel had no need to reply. She watched Mme. Lasalle drive off, took a comprehensive view of the moon for a minute, and then pirouetting round on the tips of her toes she flashed into the sitting room and favoured Mr. Falkirk with a courtesy profound enough for her grandmother.
Mr. Falkirk was sitting with the paper in the tea-room at Chickaree. A good lamplight gave him every temptation to lose himself in its manifold pages, but somehow the temptation failed. Mr. Falkirk had been walking the floor for part of the evening; going then to one of the long windows and throwing it open—there were no mosquitoes at Chickaree—to look out at the moonlight, or perhaps to listen for the sound of wheels; but the Summer stillness was only marked by the song of insects and the light stir of leaves, and Mr. Falkirk went back to his musings. His hand caressed his chin sometimes, in slow and moody deliberation. No doubt the change was a serious one, from the quiet, unquestioned care of a schoolgirl, to the guardianship of a bright, full-winged butterfly of humanity. That does not half express it. For to the airy uncertainty of butterfly motions, his ward certainly added the intense activities of a humming bird, and the jealous temper, without the useful proclivities, of a honey bee. I think Mr. Falkirk likened her to all these in his meditations; and his brows knit themselves into a persistent frown as he walked. For all that, when the wheels of Mme. Lasalle's carriage grated on the gravel sweep, Mr. Falkirk sat down to the table and the newspaper, and as Wych Hazel opened the door and walked in, Mr. Falkirk looked up sedately. Then his face unbent, a very little, but he waited for her to speak.
'Good evening, my dear Mr. Falkirk!' Mr. Falkirk was not morose, but he made little answer beyond a smile.
'I perceive you have been pining for my return, sir,' said Miss Hazel advancing airily; 'but why you do not revive when I come,thatpuzzles my small wits. Are you overjoyed to see me safe home, Mr. Falkirk?'
'I wait to be certified of the fact, Miss Hazel.'
She came to a low seat before him, silently crossing her arms on 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 people thereupon! One cried, "Happy fish!"—and another, "Happy Miss Kennedy!"—And yet I suppose we had both of us known more ecstatic moments.'
'And what is your impression of fishing parties, judging from this specimen?'
'O, I was amused, of course. But the brook was delicious. You know, 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 you glad to see me here, sir?'
'I am glad if you are glad, Miss Hazel. I did not suspect that any genie or enchanter had got hold of you yet.'
'Only "if," ' she said to herself. 'I wonder how it feels to have anybody care for one very much!' But no word of that came out.
'Areyouglad 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 ghosts of the neighbourhood, I should judge,'—added Miss Hazel thoughtfully slipping her bracelets up and down.
'Scandal, eh?' said Mr. Falkirk. 'And yet the drive was stupid!'
'Incredible, sir, is it not? But you see, I had been ever so long 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 that favourite dish Madame chose to serve you with. And in the mean time, to relieve the dryness of the subject, Miss Hazel, will you give me a cup of tea?'
She sprang up, and began to busy herself at once with her home duties, but did not immediately answer his question. Until she came round to his side, bringing the fragrant and steaming cup of 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. 'And if theydon'twant to, why do not other people let them alone?'
Mr. Falkirk shot one of his glances at the questioner from under his dark brows, and sipped his tea.
'There might be a variety of answers given to your first query, Miss Hazel. People that want to marry each other are proverbially subject to hindrances—from the days of fairy tales down to our own.'
'They always do it in fairy tales, however.'
'They very often do it in real life,' said Mr. Falkirk gravely.
'Well, sir?—then why cannot they be left to take care of themselves, either way? It is such fudge!' she said, walking back to her place and energetically dropping sugar in her own cup.
'Who is Mme. Lasalle trying to take care of?'
'Me, last, sir. Warning me that things laughed at become dangerous. 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! I presumed to laugh at some of her fancy sketches, and then of course she rapped me over the knuckles. Or meant it!' said Miss 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 think I 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. He was silent and thoughtful,—moody, his ward might have fancied him,—while the tea-things were cleared away, and afterwards pored over the newspaper and did not read it. At last, when silence had reigned some time, he lifted his head up and turned round to where Wych Hazel sat.
'I have been considering a difficulty, Miss Hazel; will you help me out?'
'Gladly, sir, if I can.' She had been sitting in musing idleness, going over the day perhaps, for now and then her lips curled and parted, with various expressions.
'We have come, you are aware, Miss Hazel, in the course of our progress, to the Enchanted Region;—where things are not what they seem; jewels lie hid in the soil for the finding, and treasures are at the top of the hill; but the conditions of success may be the stopping of the ears, you know; and lovely ladies by the way may turn out to be deadly enchantresses. How, in this time of dangers and possibilities, can my wisdom avail for your inexperience? that is my question. Can you tell me?'
'Truly sir,' she answered with laugh, 'to get yourself out of a difficulty, you get me in! My inexperience is totally in the dark 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 grateful flash of her brown eyes.
'When I had only a little Wych Hazel to take care of, and the care depended on myself,' Mr. Falkirk said, with just an indication of a sigh stifled somewhere. 'Now I can't get along without your coöperation, my dear.'
'Am I so much harder to manage than of old, sir? That speaks ill for me.'
'My dear, I believe I remarked that we are upon Enchanted ground. It does not speak ill for you, that you may not know a bewitched pumpkin from a good honest piece of carriage maker's work.'
'No, sir. Is it the pumpkin variety for which Mr. Rollo is to find mice?'
'I have taken care of your affairs at least,' said Mr. Falkirk gravely. 'There is nothing aboutthemthat is not sound. I wish 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 am sure I ought to be "sound" too, if care would do it.'
'Will you help me, Hazel?' said Mr. Falkirk, bending towards her and speaking her name as in the old childish days.
'Gladly, sir,—if you will shew me how. And if it is not too hard,' she said with a pretty look, well answering to her words.
'I wish you had a mother!' said Mr. Falkirk abruptly. And he turned back to the table, and for a little while that was all the answer he made; while Wych Hazel sat waiting. But then he began again.
'As I remarked before, Miss Hazel, we are come upon bewitched ground in our search after fortune. You spoke of two classes of people a while ago, if you remember—people that want to marry each other and people thatdon't.'
'Yes sir. Which are the most of?'
'Beingupon bewitched ground, it might happen to you as to others—mind, not this year, perhaps, nor next; but it might happen—that you should find yourself in one of these two, as you intimate, large classes. Suppose it; could you, having no mother, 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 her cheeks as she caught his meaning more fully. Then her eyes fell 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 trust avail you or me, practically, could you let me know the state of affairs?'
She moved restlessly in her chair, drawing a long breath or two.
'You say such strange things, sir. I do assure you, Mr. Falkirk, I am ensconced in the very middle of one of those classes. And that not the dangerous one,' she added with a laugh, though the flushes came very frankly. 'Ifthatis what you are afraid of.'
'You are in about as dangerous a class as any I know,' said Mr. Falkirk, dryly; 'the class of people that everybody wants to marry. Miss Hazel, you are known to be the possessor of a very large propriety.'
'Am I, sir? And is that what makes me so attractive? I thought that there must be some explanation of so sweeping a compliment from your lips.'
A provoked little smile came upon Mr. Falkirk's lips, but they grew grave again.
'So, Miss Hazel, how are you to know the false magician from the true knight?'
'He must be a poor knight who would leave the trouble on my hands,' said the girl, with her young ideas strong upon her. 'If he does not prove himself, Mr. Falkirk, "I'll none of him!" '
'How shall a man prove to you that he does not want Chickaree and 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 its personal bearing. 'Mr. Falkirk, false and true cannot be just alike?'
'Remember that in both cases so much is true. The desire to win your favour, and therefore the effort to please, are undoubted.'
'Mr. Falkirk, you must be the assayer! Suppose you tell me now about all these people here, to begin with. I have not seen much that reminded me of magicyet,' she said with a curl of her 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, Miss Hazel, would be, when you think anybody is seeking your good graces, to ask me whether he has gained mine. I will conclude nothing ofyourviews 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, shrewd and sweet, benignant, and yet with a play of something like mirth in the dark, overhung eyes. It was a look which recognized all the difficulty of the situation and the subject, for both parties.
'I am afraid the thing is unmanageable, my dear,' he said at last. 'You will rush up the hill without stopping your ears, after some fancied "golden water" at the top; and I shall come after and find you turned into some stone or other. And then you will object very much to being picked up and put in my pocket. I see it all before me.'
She laughed a little, but shyly; not quite at ease upon the subject even with him. Then rose up, gathering on her arm the light 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 you kiss me and say good night to me, as you used to do in old times? That is better than any number of fastenings to your pocket, to keep me from jumping out.'
Once it had been his habit, as she said; now long disused. He did not at once answer; he, too, was gathering up a paper or two and a book from the table. But then he came where she stood, and taking her hand stooped and kissed her forehead. He did not then say good night; he kissed her and went. And the barring and bolting and locking up for the night were done with a more hurried step than usual.
'Miss Wych—my dear—all in brown?' said Mrs. Bywank doubtfully, as her young charge was arraying herself one morning for the woodcraft. Some rain and some matters of business had delayed the 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 such tinges 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 istheparty,' said Wych Hazel. 'Mr. Falkirk and I scarcely deserve so festive a name by ourselves.'
'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 old housekeeper looked troubled.
'My dear,' she began—'I wouldn't play off any of my pranks upon Mr. Rollo, if I were you.'
'What is the matter with Mr. Rollo, that his life must be insured?' said Wych, gravely confronting her old friend with such a face that Mrs. Bywank was again betrayed into an unwilling laugh. But she returned to the charge.
'I wouldn't, Miss Wych! Gentlemen don't understand such things.'
'I do not think Mr. Rollo seems dull,' said the girl, with a face of grave reflection. 'Now, Byo—what are you afraid I shall do?' she went on, suddenly changing her tone, and laying both hands on her old friend's shoulders.
'Why, nothing, Miss Wych, dear!—I mean,'—Mrs. Bywank hesitated.
'You mean a great deal, I see,' said Wych Hazel. 'But do not you see, Byo, I cannot hang out false colours? There is no sort of use in my pretending not to be wild, because Iam.'
Mrs. Bywank looked up in the young face,—loving and anxious.
'Miss Wych,' she said, 'what men of sense disapprove, young ladies in general had better not do.'
'O, I cannot follow you there,' said Wych Hazel. 'Suppose, for instance, 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 the figure before her. If Hazel had been a wood nymph a week ago she was surely the loveliest of brown fairies to-day. But still 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, for to-day at least I have got Mr. Falkirk between me and mischief. And there he is this minute, wanting his breakfast.'
But to judge by the housekeeper's face as she looked after her young mistress down the stairs, that barrier was not quite all that could be wished. However, if impenetrability were enough for a barrier, Mr. Falkirk could have met any inquisitions that morning.
He came to breakfast as usual; but this morning breakfast simply meant business. He ate his toast and read his newspaper. With the ending of breakfast came Rollo. And the party presently issued forth into the woods which were to be the scene of the day's work.
The woods of Chickaree were old and fine. For many years undressed and neglected, they had come at last to a rather rampant state of anarchy and misrule. Feebler, though perhaps not less promising members were oppressed by the overtopping growth of the stronger; there was an upstart crowd of young wood; and the best intentioned trees were hurting each other's efforts, because of want of room. It was a lovely wilderness into which the party plunged, and the June morning sat in the tops of the trees and laughed down at them. Human nature could hardly help laughing back in return, so utterly joyous were sun and sky, birds and insects and trees altogether. They went first to the wilderness through which Rollo and Wych Hazel had made their way on foot one morning; lying near to the house and in the immediate region of its owner's going and coming. Herein were great white oaks lifting their heads into greater silver pines. Here were superb hemlocks threatened by a usurping growth of young deciduous trees. There were dogwoods throwing themselves across everything; and groups of maples and beeches struggling with each other. As yet the wild growth was in many instances beautiful; the damage it was doing was beyond the reach of any but an experienced eye. Here and there a cross in white chalk upon the trunk of a tree was to be seen.
The three walked slowly down through this leafy wild till they were lost in it.
'Now,' said Rollo to the little lady in brown, 'what do you think ought to be done here?'
'I should like to make ways through al this, if I could. True wildwood ways, I mean,—that one must look for and hardly find; with here and there a great clearance that should seem to have made 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. Falkirk went on, 'is generally in the tree tops. The ground is left a wreck.'
'Any system of clearing that I know, brings the trees to the ground,' said Wych Hazel. 'But I mean—I like the woods dearly as they are, Mr. Falkirk; butifI meddled with them, then I would have something to shew for it. I would have thoughts instead of the trees, and vistas full of visions. If anything is cut here, it ought to be in a broad hurricane track right down 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 a demure arch of her eyebrows.
Rollo bit his lips furtively but vigorously, and then demanded to know if Napoleon was her favourite character in history.
'No,' said Wych Hazel—'he did not know what to do with his power when he had it. A very common mistake, Mr. Rollo, you will find.'
'Don't make it,' said he, smiling.
'What are you talking about?' said Mr. Falkirk, turning round upon them. 'Miss Hazel, we are here in obedience to your wishes. What do you propose to do, now we are here? Do you know what needs doing?'
'What does, Mr. Falkirk?—in your opinion?' She came close to him, linking her hands upon his arm. 'Tell me first, and then I will tell you.'
'There must be a great many trees cut, Miss Hazel; they have grown up to crowd upon each other very mischievously. And a large quantity of saplings and underbrush must be cleared away. 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? There is an elm with a branch too many on one side; and a birch keeping house lovingly with a hemlock. If "woodcraft" means only such line-and-rule decimation, Mr. Falkirk—'
'I don't know whatyoumean by woodcraft, my dear. I mean, taking care of the woods.'
'Andthatmeans,' added Rollo, 'an intimate knowledge of their natures, and an affectionate care for their interests; a sympathetic, loving, watchful insight and forecast.'
Wych Hazel gave him a little nod of approval.
'Don't you see, sir?' she went on eagerly. 'Youmusthave a bent tree now and then, because it is twice as interesting as the straight ones. And if you cut down all the bushes, Mr. Falkirk, you will clearmeout,' she added, laughing up in his face.
'You might grant her so much, Mr. Falkirk,' said the other gentleman. '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 white pine tree, and make a huge dash of white chalk upon its broad bole. Then he stepped back to look again. Action was more in his way than discussion to-day. Rollo began to get into the spirit of the thing; and suggested and pointed out here and there what ought to come down and what ought to be left, and the reasons, with a quick, clear insight and decision to which Mr. Falkirk invariably assented, and almost invariably in silence. Deeper and deeper into the wood they worked their way; where the shade lay dark upon the ferns and the air was cool and spicy with fragrance, and then where the sunlight came down and played at the trees' foot. For a while Wych Hazel kept pace with their steps; advising, countermanding, putting in her word generally. But by degrees she quitted the marking work, and began to flit about by herself; plunging her little fingers deep into moss beds, mimicking the squirrels, and—after her old fashion—breaking out from time to time into scraps of song. Now Mr. Falkirk's ears were delighted with the ringing 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 on the singer's part; that was quite too private and confidential a matter to be trilled out at the top of one's voice. Presently again, slow and clear like the tinkle of a streamlet down 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 two gentlemen, deep in the merits of a burly red oak, took no notice how suddenly the song broke off, nor that none other came after it. And when at last they bethought themselves of the young lady truant, and stopped to listen where she might be, they heard a murmur of tongues very different indeed from the silvery tones of Wych Hazel. And somewhat hastily retracing their steps, came presently into distant view if an undoubted 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 devoirs in most courtier-like fashion. On the moss at her feet lay Mr. Kingsland, with no less a companion than Mr. Simms—black whiskers, white Venetian collar and all. Three or four others, whom Mr. Falkirk did not know, were lounging and laughing and paying attentions of unmistakable reality; while Stuart Nightingale, who had come up on horseback, stood nearest of all, leaning against the rock, his hat off, his horse's bridle upon his arm.
The consequence of this revelation was a temporary suspension of woodcraft, properly so called; another sort of craft, it may possibly have occurred to the actors therein, coming into requisition. Mr. Falkirk at once went forward and joined the group around the rock. More slowly Rollo's movements also in time brought him there. They could see, as they came nearer, a fine example of the power of feminine adaptation. Was this the girl to whom Mr. Falkirk had discoursed the other night? How swiftly and easily she was taking her place! And though a little downcast and blushing now and then, beneath the subtle power of eyes and tongue, yet evidently all the while gathering up the reins and learning to drive her four in hand. Over the two at her feet she was openingly queening it already; over the others—what did Wych Hazel see concerning them, that curled her lips in their soft lines of mischief? Some exquisite hot-house flowers lay in her lap, and a delicate little basket by her side held strawberries—red, white and black—such as the neglected Chickaree gardens had never seen.
'Why, there is your venerable guardian, Miss Kennedy!' drawled out Mr. Kingsland, as Mr. Falkirk came in sight. 'How charming! Patriarchal. And who is that beyond?—Dane Rollo!—as I 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 the Mountain House, courteous and careless; no fellow of these gentlemen, nor yet at all like Mr. Falkirk, a guard upon them. Mr. Falkirk's brows had unmistakeably drawn together at sight of the new comers; Rollo stood on the edge of the group, indifferent and at ease, after his wonted fashion in general society.
'You are making almost your first acquaintance with these beautiful woods?' Stuart remarked, to the little mistress of them, breaking the lull that Mr. Falkirk's arrival had produced.
'How old is your own, sir?' said Mr. Falkirk.
'I—really, I don't know—I have shot here a little; before you came, 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. It was just before we went away. And Mr. Falkirk found me and carried me home. Do you remember, sir?'
But Mr. Falkirk was oblivious of such passages of memory in the present company. He gave no token of hearing. Instead, he cruelly 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 have been true—they were so unhesitating. Through which rain of facts 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 a question!'
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 thought the other day that green was matchless, but to-day—'
'Yes,' said Wych Hazel, 'but if you would just please stand out of my way, and let me jump down. I want to see Dr. Maryland.'
The gentleman laughed and retreated, and disregarding the half dozen offered hands, Hazel sprang from her rock and stood out a 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 road though not far off was invisible. Down below Rollo had caught a glimpse of the well known little green buggy creeping up the hill; and in another few minutes its occupants appeared coming through the trees. Wych Hazel had hold of their hands almost before they had sight of her.
'I thought you had given me up, Dr. Maryland,' she said, 'and were 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 very delinquent. Though it seems I am not the first here. Good morning, Mr. Kingsland!—how do you do, Mr. Burr?—how do you do, Mr. Sutphen?—Mr. May? Are you holding an assembly here, my dear?' And by that time Dr. Maryland had worked round to Mr. Falkirk; and the hands of the two gentlemen closed in an earnest prolonged clasp; after the approved method gentlemen have 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 speaking her pleasure.
'What are you doing?' said Primrose under her breath and looking in some astonishment at the gathering.
'O, nothing—talking,—they wanted to know how I got home,' said Wych, an amused look betraying itself. Then quitting Primrose, she went forward a little to receive the farewell addresses of several gentlemen who preferred to see Miss Kennedy alone. The group began to clear away. Prim's eye watched her, in her graceful, pretty self-possession, as she met and returned the parting salutation; and then went over by some instinct to where another eye was watching her too, with a contented sparkle in its intentness. That was only a second, though. Rollo had no mind to have all the world know what he was thinking about; and even as her glance found him, his turned away. The strangers being at last disposed of, those remaining began a slow procession towards the house. But a parting word of Mr. Nightingale's must be noted.
'Any chance for a ride to the wood to-morrow?' he said, with tones so modulated that he thought his words safe. And she answered:
'O, my horses have not come. There will be little riding for me yet a while.'
'And these are the Chickaree woods?' said Dr. Maryland, as they 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 an uncertainty dependent on my good behaviour?' she said with a laugh.
'You know you are not of age, my dear; but I suppose Mr. Falkirk gives you the essentials of dominion. Do you feel at home yet?'
'Very much! You know, sir, I have just a little remembrance of the old time—when mamma was here—to begin with. But how heedless I am!' she said, abruptly putting the little basket which had been swinging from her hand into the hands of Dr. Maryland. 'There, sir,—will you take some refreshment by the way?' Then turning to Primrose, Miss Kennedy laid the fragrant weight of hot-house flowers upon her.
'Are these from your garden?' said Primrose, somewhat bewildered. While Dr. Maryland, putting his fingers without scruple in among the black and white strawberries, asked in an approving tone of voice: 'Have you been picking these yourself, my dear?'
'I—picked them up, sir,' said Hazel with the laugh in her voice. 'Not off the vines, however. They are hothouse flowers,' she answered to Primrose. 'When my houses are in order 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 be bringing you strawberries? And those flowers too?' glancing over 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 black strawberries abstractedly,—'I've a right to ask her questions. The strawberries are good!—but I wish Mr. May had not brought them.'
'So would he, if he knew you were eating them, sir.'
'I've eaten enough of them,' said Dr. Maryland, seeming to recollect himself. 'They are very good; they are the finest strawberries I have seen.' And he handed the basket to Mr. Falkirk, who immediately passed it over to Rollo. Rollo balanced the basket on his fingers and carried it so, but put never a finger inside.
'I am afraid your head will be turned, Hazel, my dear,' said Dr. Maryland, 'if the adulation has begun so soon. What will you 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 learning every day of his life what it is to know me "a little better!" '
'I can imagine that,' said Dr. Maryland, quite gravely. 'My dear, what a beautiful old house you have!'
The June day, however, was so alluring that they could not make up their minds to go inside. On the basket chairs in the low verandah they sat down, and looked and talked. Primrose did not talk much—she was quiet; nor Mr. Falkirk—he was taciturn; the burden of talk was chiefly borne by Wych Hazel and the Doctor. In a genial, enjoying, sympathising mood, Dr. Maryland came out in a way uncommon for him! asked questions about the woods, the property, the old house; and delighted himself in the beauty that was abroad in earth and sky.
'My dear,' he said at last to Wych Hazel, 'you have all that this world can give you. What are you going to do with it?'
'Have I?' she said, rather wistfully. 'I thought I was looking for 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 doctor could hear, 'not more of what people call much; but something, where I have nothing. To belong to somebody—to have somebody belong 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 but dropping her voice again.
'If you had her, my dear, you would then want something or somebody else.'
'Maybe you do not understand me, sir,' she said, a little eager to be understood, and pouring out confidences in a way as rare with her as it was complimentary to her hearer. 'I am not complaining of anybody. I know Mr. Falkirk is very fond of me—but he likes to keep me off at a respectful distance. Only a few nights ago, I was feeling particularly good, for me, and rather 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 to me 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 uncommon expression offunplaying about the lines of his mouth. 'It is not always safe to conclude that coincident facts have a relation of cause and effect.'
'No—' said the girl, 'I suppose not. But I stood there all by myself and heard him turn the keys and rattle the bolts—and then I ran upstairs to find Mrs. Bywank,—and of course she couldn't speak for a toothache. And then I felt as if there was nobody in all the world—in all my world—but me!'