Dr. Maryland looked tenderly upon the young girl beside him, yet uncomprehendingly. Probably his peculiar masculine nature furnished him with no clue to her essentially feminine views of things.
'I dare say, my dear,' he said,—'I dare say! The best cure for such a state of feeling hat I know, would be to begin living for other people. You will find the world grow populous very soon. And one other cure,'—he added, his eye going away from Wych Hazel into an abstracted gaze towards the outer world;— 'when you can say, "Whom have I in heaven but Thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside Thee." '
The little hand upon his shoulder stirred,—was lifted, and laid down again. Somehow she comprehended him better than he did her. Then with a sudden motion Hazel took off a luminous bracelet—one of the three she always wore, and laid it across Dr. Maryland's hand.
'Did mamma ever shew you that, sir?' she said. 'She had it made just for me. And then my wrist was so small that it would go twice round.'
It was a string of twelve stones, all different, all cut and set alike; each long parallelogram fitting rather closely to the next on either side; the hues—opaque, translucent, clouded—flashed and gleamed with every imaginable variation of colour and shade. The doctor looked at it in silence. Then spoke.
'What did she mean by it, Hazel, my dear? I do not catch the interpretation.'
She turned it a little in his hand, until the light fell on the gold framing beneath the gems, and Dr. Maryland could read the fine graven tracery:—"The first, a jasper."
'Ah!' he exclaimed with new interest, 'I see.' And he took up the chain of stones and turned it over and over, rather passed it through his fingers like a rosary, studying the stones and murmuring the names of them.
' "The wall of the city had twelve foundations," ' he said at last, giving the chain back, with a look of light and love combined; ' "and in the wall were twelve gates, and each several gate was one pearl; and the streets were gold, like unto transparent glass, and nothing that defileth shall by any means enter there, but those that are washed in the blood of the Lamb." I like that, my dear.'
His look made all the application his words did not. Presently he rose up and asked Wych Hazel if he might go into her library? A book was there, he thought, that he wanted to look at. Hazel guided him in, but then he dismissed her and she went back to Primrose on the verandah. Slowly back,—softly fingering her bright stones, soberly thinking to herself the motto upon the clasp:—"In hope of eternal life."
'What were you talking to papa about?' said Primrose, putting a loving hand into Wych Hazel's. The two other gentlemen were speaking together at a little distance. 'I thought you looked troubled; but I could not hear, for Duke was talking to me.'
'Dr. Maryland should have been the troubled one, part of the time,' said Hazel, bringing her other hand upon Prim's, 'for I asked him to give you to me.'
'What would become of him and Duke?' said Primrose smiling.
'Really, Mr. Rollo did not enter into my calculations!' saidWych Hazel, coming back with a rebound into her everyday self.'Does he require much time and care bestowed upon him?'
'Don't you think all men do?'
'I do not know all men,' said Wych Hazel. 'Mr. Falkirk does not get it. But does Mr. Rolloliveat your house?'
'Why of course, when he's here. He always did, you know. And O, Duke helps me. It is twice as easy to take care of papa, when I have him in the house, too. But Hazel, I am going to getyouto help me,—in another way—if I can.'
'What way?' said Hazel. 'Then if Mr. Rollo is so helpful, he might take care of Dr. Maryland altogether, and you could come to take care of me.'
Primrose laughed.
'O men cannot get along as women can—don't you know that?' she said. 'No, I want you for my Sunday school. What's the matter?'"
These last words were caused by a diversion of the speaker's thoughts. For she had noticed, while speaking, that a man had come in haste to the place where the two gentlemen were standing; and that after a very few words Mr. Falkirk had thrown on his hat and gone down the grassy slope with the messenger; while Rollo had turned as suddenly and was coming towards them.
Rollo came up with the grave, business look of one who has serious matters on hand.
'A messenger has come,' he said, speaking to Wych Hazel, 'to say that one of the men has met with an accident.'
He could see how the shock struck her, but she made no exclamation, only her hands met in a tight clasp as they had done in the woods' fire. She faced him silently, waiting more words.
'I don't know yet how bad it is. I am going to see; and I will come back to you by and by.'
'Where?—and who?' she asked.
'In the wood-cutting. It is Reo.' He spoke as a man who speaks unwillingly.
Hazel gave a little cry at that, and turning suddenly flew into the house. The next thing was the flutter of her light foot outside among the trees. But, overtaken the next minute, she was stopped by a hand on her arm and held fast. However Dane spoke very gently.
'Miss Hazel!—you had better not go yourself.'
'I am going,' she said, struggling to disengage herself. 'Mr.Rollo!—'
'Stop,' he said gently and steadily. 'Miss Hazel—I shall not let you go.'
In her excitement she hardly took in more than the mere fact of his words, and dropping everything she had in her hand, Hazel took hold of his fingers and began to loosen them with her own, which had a good deal of will in them, of they were small. The immediate effect was to secure the imprisonment of both her hands in a clasp that was stronger than her's. I hardly think Rollo disliked it, for he smiled a little as he spoke:
'Listen,' he said,—'Miss Hazel, I shall not let you go down yonder. I will bring you news as soon as I can—but you must stay here with Rosy. Don't you see?' he added very gently, as he turned about and walked toward the house with her, putting one little hand on his arm while other hand still held it fast,—'don't you see, you could do nothing just yet? And I take this upon myself—I shall not let you go. You must stay here and take care of Rosy, till I can come back to you.'
'I will not,' she said, stopping short again. 'I will go! It is my right! Where should a woman be? And—Oh!' she cried with a change of tone, 'it is Reo!—And he will want things—and he will want me!'
'Not yet,' said Rollo; 'it is not time for either yet. He shall want nothing, I promise you, that he ought to have. But you must be good and stay with Rosy.'
He spoke as a brother might speak to a little sister of whom he was very fond, or—brothers do not often take just that tone. Primrose, looking on, knew very well what it meant. Wych Hazel was in far too much commotion of mind to discern anything. She had yielded to superior strength,—which indeed she could not gracefully resist; and then there came over her heart such a flood of grief, that for the last few steps she was quite passive; though giving no sign but the quiver that touched her mouth, and went and came again. But at Rollo's last words she drew herself up defiantly.
'Do you expect to stand here and hold me all day?' she said.
'No?' he said gravely, now meeting her look,—'I expect you to have self-control and womanly patience, and to let me go and do my part, until it is time for you to do yours. Will you?'
'I shall do what I think best. The question is none of yours, Mr. Rollo. Self-control!—I have a little!' she said under her breath.
'Do you mean to keep me here,' he said gravely and quietly, 'when I may be so much wanted elsewhere? You would be in the way there, but I am needed. Still, you are my first care. Must I stay here to take care of you? or will you promise me to be good and wait quietly with Primrose, until I bring you word?'
His eye went to Primrose as he ended, in a mute appeal for help. And Prim came near and laid her hand softly on Wych Hazel's shoulder.
'Do, dear Hazel!' she said. 'Duke knows; you may trust him.'
It was indescribable the way she freed herself from them both, as if to be touched, now, was beyond the bounds of endurance. Prim's words Hazel utterly ignored, but something in the other's claimed attention.
'Go! Go!'—she said hurriedly. 'Go and do your part!—If you had been content with doing that at first, we should have had no trouble.' She wrapped her arms round one of the light verandah pillars, and leaning her head against it gave look nor word more.
Rollo staid for none, but dashed away down the slope and was lost in the woods. Primrose stood near Wych Hazel, very much at a loss indeed; but too troubled to be still.
'Dear Hazel!' she ventured, in a very soft voice—'don't feel so! What is the matter?'
'Did you not hear?'
'Yes; but Hazel dear, you know hardly anything yet; there may be very little to be troubled about. The accident may be very slight, for all you know. I always think it is best to wait and see; and then have your strength ready to work with.'
'My strength has been extremely useful to-day.'
'What to you mean, dear?' said Primrose, softly endeavouring to coax the hands and arms away from the verandah pillar. 'Look here—look up and be yourself again. Maybe there is very little the matter. Wait and see.'
'Wait!'—Hazel repeated. 'People talk as if waiting was such easy work!'
'I never said it was easy,' said Primrose gently. 'But some people have to wait all their lives.' There was the very essence of patience in the intonation.
'I should think their lives would be short.'
Primrose sighed a little and was silent. Perhaps she thought that those who had little occasion to practise the grace were unreasonable. But I think she only remembered that the one near her was very unpractised.
'Forgive me—I do not mean to—be—' the girl faltered out, the tremor coming back to her voice. 'But Reo!—' And with that, pain and disappointment and chagrin joined forces; and quitting her pillar, Hazel dropped down by one of the great wicker chairs, and laying her head there burst into a passion of weeping that almost made Primrose wish for the hard-edged calm again.
So she stood passively by until the storm was spent; and Dr. Maryland having satisfied his book quest, came out again, awakening to the fact that it was time he and Primrose were jogging homeward. Primrose took him aside and explained the situation of affairs, after which Dr. Maryland, too, forthwith betook himself down the slope in the direction where Mr. Falkirk and Rollo had disappeared. After a little interval of further suspense he was seen coming back again. He reported that Reo was not much hurt; had been a good deal bruised, and the accident had threatened to be serious; but after all no great harm was done. Primrose nevertheless begged that her father would go home without her; she could come with Duke, she said.
Dr. Maryland's wagon had not been brought round, however, when a very different vehicle appeared, climbing the steep; and Primrose proclaimed that Mrs. Powder was at hand. The carriage drew up before the verandah, and from it descended the ex- Governor's lady, and two young ones—Miss Annabella and another. Mrs. Powder was a stately lady, large and dignified;— those two things do not always go together, but they did in her case. She was extremely gracious to all the members of the little group she found gathered to receive her. Then, as Dr. Maryland was going, she sat down to talk to him about some business which engaged her. So the two older persons were a little removed from the rest. Miss Annabella did nothing but look handsome and calm, after her wont; but her younger sister was of different mettle.
'And so this is Chickaree?' she said, gazing up and down and about, at the old house and its surroundings. 'What a delightful old place! And are you the mistress of it, really— without being married, you know? How splendid! I always think that's the worst of being married—you lose your liberty, you know, and there's always somebody to bother you; but to have a grand place, and house, and all that, and to be mistress, andhave no master!—I declare,' Miss Josephine cried, throwing up hands and eyes, 'it's as good as a fairy tale. And much better, for it don't all vanish in smoke in a minute. Oh, don't you feel like a fairy princess in the midst of all your magnificence? You look like it, too!' added the young lady, surveying the person of her hostess. 'Ain't you proud?'
Hazel's spent and past excitement had left her rather pale and grave, so that she was doing the honours with an extra touch of stateliness. Self-control was trying its best now, for she had not the least mind that anybody should know it had ever been shaken. So she ordered lunch to be served out there on the verandah, and made Dr. Maryland wait for it, and talked to Miss Annabella; and now gave Miss Josephine a cool 'Proud! Is that what you call it?' which left nothing to be desired.
'I thought they said she was so brilliant?' remarked Miss Annabella, in an aside to Primrose. 'But I supposethatis with gentlemen.'
'What doyoucall it?' the younger Miss Powder went on. 'Ishould be proud—awfully—if I had such a house and all. I'd take my time about being married. Wouldn't you? Don't you think it is best to put off being married as long as you can?— not till it'stoolate, you know. The fun's all over then— don't you think so?—except the house, and carriage, and establishment, and giving entertainments, and all that. And you have got it all already. Oh, I should think you would make the men dance round?'
Wych Hazel had followed this rush of new ideas with a degree of amazement, which, before she knew, culminated in a merry laugh. But she was grave again immediately.
'Should you?' she said. 'How do you do it?'
'Don't you know how?' said the other girl, with an expression of insinuation, fun and daring which it is difficult to give on paper. She was a pretty, bright girl, too. The question would have been impudent if it had not been comical. 'I know you do!' she went on. 'You've a good battery. I'd like to see you do it. I always do. It's such fun! All men are good for,' she exclaimed next, with a curl on her lip, 'except to carry one's parasol and things. Do you know Kitty Fisher?'
'Not even by name,' said Miss Kennedy, studying her guest as an entirely new species.
'She's a splendid girl. She's coming to Moscheloo next week; there'll be goings on then. People are so stupid here in the country, they want somebody to wake them up. Kitty's awfully jolly. Oh, what a lovely old house! Take me in and let me see it, won't you? Oh, what a lovely hall! What a place for a German! Oh, you'll give a German, won't you?'
'I do not know what I shall give, yet, Miss Powder.'
'I'm not Miss Powder! Annabella wouldn't thank you. She'd like me to be Miss Powder, though. Tell me; don't you think people could get along just as well if they weren't married? Now there's my mother wants to marry us off as quick as she can; and every other girl's mother is just the same. What do they do it for? Oh, you've got a dreadful old guardian, haven't you? Does he want you to get married? Ain't it hateful to have a guardian? I should think it would be awfully poky.'
'Did you ever see Mr. Falkirk?' said Hazel gravely. Somehow this girl's talk made her extremely reticent. But that made little difference to Miss "Phinny." The next question was:
'Do you know Stephen Kingsland?'
'Yes.'
'Don't you admire him? Ain't he a catch, for somebody! But you know Stuart Nightingale, don't you?'
Again Miss Kennedy said yes.
'Like him?'
'Do you?' said Hazel.
'I think he's splendid! He's so amusing; and he's asplendiddancer. It's fun to dance with Stuart Nightingale. I don't very often get him, though. But you didn't answer me—do you like him?'
'I am not much in the habit of answering people,' said Hazel frankly. 'You will find that out if you see enough of me.'
'Ain't you? Why?' asked the young lady ingenuously.
'Because I do not like to be questioned. You perceive no fault can be found with my reasons,' she added with a smile.
'Then you do like him, I know. People are never afraid to tell their dislikes. Why!—is that'—
A broken-off inquiry here was never finished, the answer to it in fact being furnished by the coming near of Rollo whose distant appearance had first suggested it. He came up on the verandah, shook hands with Mrs. Powder, but gave the other ladies one of what Wych Hazel used to know, as his Spanish greetings; courteous and distant equally. Dr. Maryland had before this finished his colloquy with the ex-Governor's lady and departed. Rollo now took his place and talked to Mrs. Powder, while for a few minutes Annabella used her eyes, as much as she could, and Miss Phinny ceased to use her tongue.
Wych Hazel never knew by what instinct she worked her way through that first bit of time. Eager for more tidings, sure that her eagerness must not appear, she held her breath for one minute—then rose up cool and quiet, the young mistress of Chickaree.
'Yes,' she said, answering Phinny's half spoken words, 'it isMr. Rollo. And of course he has had no luncheon.'
She summoned Dingee with a blast of her silver whistle (there were few bells at Chickaree), ordered up hot chocolate and fresh tea and relays of fruit and cream; and herself stepped forward to see them served.
'There are croquettes, Mr. Rollo,' she said,—'and Dingee will bring you cold beef. And with what may I fill your cup?'
Primrose, through her scattering talk with Annabella, watched, as she could, these two people who were so strange to her simplicity. Here was Wych Hazel, a little while ago on the floor in a passion of tears; now, calm, self-possessed, and graceful. Primrose had been very uncertain how she would meet Rollo the next time; with a kind of wonder she heard her friendly offer of chocolate and observed Rollo's perfectly cool and matter-of-course acceptance of it from her hands. It was something beyond Primrose. She waited to see how it would be when Mrs. Powder went away.
But a great many thoughts went in among the sugar that Primrose never guessed. Wych Hazel was anxiously waiting to have the good report about Reo confirmed, and would not shew her anxiety. But what did Prim mean by people's waiting all their lives? What did they wait for? Well, these two people needn't wait any longer for a meeting—that was one thing.Thataffair was well off her hands. Why hadn't Mr. Falkirk returned too?—Staying with Reo, perhaps, until she came, and she could not go, and could not ask. And now, of course, the Powders would just stay on, supplementing their lunch to bear Mr. Rollo company. Perhaps, though, it was just as well they were here when he came. Because she knew she ought to be furiously angry with him, and somehow that was never arôleshe could play. Before excitement reached that point, she always got hurt, or troubled, or timid—and just now she was too tired. If he told her to sit there and count her fingers, she should hardly have spirit to resist. How ever had he dared to take hold of said fingers as he had done!—and with that came a sudden rush to Miss Kennedy's cheeks which made her wish she could go for hot chocolate instead of Dingee. He had hindered her by sheer force. Gentle force,—and gentlemanlike,—but none the less true to its name. There was one of the peculiar advantages of being a woman! Or a girl. She should be stronger in full womanhood. But oh, she was woman enough to take care of Reo!—and if Reo were dying, and Mr. Rollo did not want to have her go, he would sit calmly there and want more chocolate!—She glanced at him from under the long eyelashes, and another flush (of impatience this time) tinged her cheeks. But she did not stint him in sugar, nor make any mistakes with the cream. Then her eyes went away over the long slope, where birds and sunshine held their revels. Wait?—what did people wait for, 'all their lives?' And why did Mr. Maryland's last words come up to her again? And why did the aforesaid eyelashes grow wet? She was all shaken out of herself by the morning's work. She would send Dingee to inquire!—and not wait. But then if this strange man should orderhimback—and Dingee could not be relied on to go silently. No, she could not have a scene before all these people. And a wee bit of a sigh, well kept in hand, went to the compounding of Miss Phinny's third cup. 'Womanly patience?'—how was hers to be grown, yet? And what did he know about it, any way? She should like to see him thoroughly thwarted, for once, and see how much manly patience he had on hand. And another swift glance went his way; but with anxiety rousing up again, the glance lingered, and was more inquiring than she meant it should be.
Luncheon was really over at last. The Governor's lady said some gracious words of welcome to her young hostess, invited her to a dinner-party a few days off, and having ordered up her carriage, swept away with her daughters. What will be now? thought Primrose.
Rollo had put the ladies into their carriage, and stood long enough to let them get out of observation behind the woods; then he came up on the verandah and going round the table sat down beside Wych Hazel. Primrose saw—did the other?—the easy motion which was universal with him, the fine figure, the frank, bright face. Primrose did not mean to watch, but she saw it all, and the look with which he sat down. It was not that of a man about to make an apology, neither had it any smile of attempted ingratiation. It was rather a sweet, confidential look of inquiry, which, however, went down through the depths of the brown eyes he was looking into, and rifled them of all their secrets. It was a sort of look before which a woman's eyes fall.
'Reo is not seriously hurt,' he said softly, when this point had been reached.
She bowed her head. 'So Dr. Maryland brought word. At last thehope.'
'He is only a good deal bruised. No bones broken, nor any other harm done. It might have been worse; and so the messenger who first came did not alarm us for nothing. One of the woodcutters had felled a large tree without giving due warning, or Reo had not heeded the warning; he was caught under the tree. But he escaped very well. He is at his own house, where he will have to keep his bed some days, I fancy.'
Another mute gesture. Perhaps the girl was not sure of herself after all the morning's work, and had no mind to risk another admonition about self-control.
'I am very glad,' she said gravely, after a minute.
'I am very glad. Mr. Falkirk has sprained his ankle,' he went on a little lower.
'Mr. Falkirk!'—
Hazel sprang up,—then as instantly sat down again. There should be no more strength used about her that day!
'Helping Reo?' she said.
'Not directly. He made a misstep, I think, among the confusion of branches cut and uncut with which the ground was encumbered; slipped off one of them, perhaps; somehow gave his foot a twist,—and there he is. That was the cause of my long delay.' He spoke, watching the little lady all the while.
'Why did he not come here?—it was nearer,' she said with some accent of impatience.
'No,'—very gently—'we were nearer his cottage. I proposed bringing him,—where I was sure you would wish for him,—here, at once; but Mr. Falkirk laid his commands on me and on all concerned so absolutely that there was no choice. We carried him to his cottage; for he could not walk.'
'Just like Mr. Falkirk!'—then the impatience died away in a soft tone of pity. 'Not able to walk!'—
'He will be a prisoner for some time, I am afraid.'
Hazel made no answer to that; thoughts were crowding in thick and fast. What was she going to do, with Mr. Falkirk laid up? Would she be a prisoner too? Was she to live here in this great old house alone, by day as well as by night? They were rather sober thoughts that came.
'That's very bad for Hazel,' said Primrose, coming near and joining the group. Hazel held out her hand and got fast hold of Prim's. She was ready for the sympathy this time.
'Does he suffer very much, Mr. Rollo?'
'I don't think he minds that part of it; no, I left him in comparative comfort. I think his trouble is about you. And he ought to have come here!—but people don't always know what they ought to do. I am going down there again presently to look after him and make sure that Gotham understands bandages.
'Gothamthinkshe understands everything.'
'I'll just make sure on that point. Have you any commands before I go?'
'No, thank you,' she said, with just the lightest shade of hesitation, 'I think not.'
'Reconsider that, and give me my orders.'
'No—truly!' Hazel answered, looking up at him. How busy the thoughts were.
'I am going to Reo's first. Have you any commands there?' But she shook her head.
'No, Mr. Rollo, not any.'
He went off; and there was an interval somewhat quiet and untalkative between the two girls. Later, Rollo came back, reported both patients doing well, and carried Prim home with him.
'Did you think I was all ungrateful?' Hazel said, wrapping her arms round Prim. 'Well, I wasnot.'
Wych Hazel stood alone on her broad steps, watching the others out of sight, and feeling alone, too. It must be nice to belong to somebody,—to have brothers and friends! Just for the moment, she forgot her now unwatched independence. But then she came back to business, and flew off up stairs. The brown dress could not stay on another minute,—was not the whole morning tucked away in its folds? That was the first thing. And the second thing was, that Miss Kennedy, in a cloud of fresh muslin and laces, came out again upon the steps, and, calling Dingee to follow her, began to speed away through the old trees at a sort of flying pace. It was late afternoon now; with lovely slant sunbeams and shadows falling across the slope, and a tossing breeze, and the birds at their evening concert. Fresh air, and action soon brought the girl up to concert pitch herself; and she went on like a very sprite, along a side wood path, avoiding the main approach, and so gained the lodge by a side door; and in a minute more stood by the bedside of her faithful old retainer. Hazel never knew at what cost to himself Reo managed to put out one hand far enough to receive her dainty fingers.
'My little lady!' he said fondly, 'I knew she would come.'
'O Reo—O Reo!—I am so sorry!' she said, her eyes growing wet.
'No need Miss Wych, dear,' said Reo, smiling at her, though his own eyes moistened to see hers.
'And it was just cutting those trees that I did not want cut!'
'Aye,—but they do want cutting though, Miss Wych,' said Reo.'Mr. Falkirk is right. And Mr. Rollo.'
How that name came up at every turn.
'Those trees are so big!' said Hazel with a shiver. 'I do not see how you ever got out again, Reo.'
'Never should, my little lady,' said Reo, 'only that there was somewhat between me and the tree.'
'Between you and the tree?' said Hazel. 'Do you mean another tree, that kept it off?'
'No, little lady,' said Reo, 'I mean the Lord's hand. You see He's quicker than we are, and before I could jump or turn, His hand was there over me. And caught the tree, and let it touch me but just so much.'
Hazel stood looking at him.
'Suppose he had not put his hand there, Reo?' she said.
'Then it would have been under me, Miss Wych—that's all the difference,' said Reo, quietly. 'Only I should never have seen my little lady again in this life.'
'Well, you have got to see her a great many times,' said the girl, speaking fast because it was not easy to speak at all. 'I am coming to sing to you, and read to you, and to do all sorts of things.' And with a smile like a stray sunbeam she left the room, and after a minute with Mrs. Reo which straightway made her over, 'as good as two,' Hazel flitted away up the hill again, as far as to Mr. Falkirk's cottage; walking in through the Summer-open doors upon his tea and toast, without the slightest warning. There she was all right. It was delightful to get the whip hand for once! And so, privately enjoying Gotham's dismay at her unannounced entrance, Wych Hazel stood by her guardian's side with a face of grave reprehension.
'Mr. Falkirk, I am really very much surprised at you!'
'H'm!—Not more than I am at myself, Miss Hazel. You are not ahead of me there.'
'Considering how much there is to do, sir; considering the unsettled state of the neighbourhood, and my extremely unprotected condition; that you should go dancing round among loose branches without a partner, passes all my small wits.'
Mr. Falkirk glanced up at her, a glance of momentary fun and recognition, though he was by no means in a sportive mood; that was easy to see.
'Will you sit down, Miss Hazel? You must play guardian now.Can your wits accomplish that?'
'Yes, sir, I thank you. Will you order me a cup and saucer,Mr. Falkirk? I have had no dinner, and could eat no lunch. AndI know Gotham would see me starve before I had even a crustwithout your permission.'
'I'm sure, Miss 'Azel!—Mr. Falkirk knows'—began Gotham.
'What have you got, Gotham?—anything in the house? Be off, and get all there is—and be quick about it.'
'O, I do not want much, sir—just a slight supplement to the pleasure of seeing you,' said Hazel, with her gay laugh. 'Mr. Falkirk, don't you think it would be very nice to have Mrs. Saddler dust up that little bit of a brown corner room for me? And then I could stay here with you all the time, and we would take splendid care of each other.'
'There's nothing therebuta little brown room, my dear.'
'I do not care, sir. Mrs. Saddler must have a spare blanker among her stores. And I would leave word up yonder that I had unexpectedly gone away for a time.—And it would be fun,' said Miss Hazel, decidedly. 'Besides the other advantages.'
'What will happen to all the princes who are coming after the princess?'
'They will learn—self-control,' said Miss Hazel. 'I have been told lately that it is a good thing.'
'Not formerly?'
'The last time made the most impression, sir. As last times are apt to do.'
'Miss Hazel, I have a request to make to you,' Mr. Falkirk said, after allowing a minute or two of silence to succeed the last remark.
'What, sir? That I will not sing so loud in the little brown room as to disturb your repose? I can promisethat.'
'You have not got your horses yet.'
'No, sir. I am sure I ought to know so much,' said the girl with a sigh.
'Rollo will see to it. You forget, my dear, we have been but a few days here. Miss Hazel, do you remember the story of the enchanted horse in the Arabian Nights?'
'With great clearness, sir. In everything but his appearance it was just the horse I should like.'
'Just the horse I am afraid of. The cavalier turned a screw and the lady was gone. I request that you will mount nobody's steed, not even your own, without consulting me first that I may make sure all is safe. It is still more true than it was the other night that I require your co-operation to discharge my trust.'
'Why, of course I should consult you, sir!' she said, with some surprise.
'That is all, Miss Hazel. Rollo will give his oversight to the woods. Only don't engage yourself to anybody for a ride till youhaveconsulted me. Do you agree to that form of precaution-taking?'
'Certainly, sir. I am sure I referred Mr. Morton to you at once,' said Miss Hazel, drinking her tea. And Mr. Falkirk, in a silence that was meditative if not gloomy, lay and watched her. It was a little book room where they were, perhaps the largest on that floor, however; a man's room. The walls all books and maps, with deer horns, a small telescope and pistols for a few of its varieties. Yet it was cheerful too, and in perfect order; and Mr. Falkirk was lying on a comfortable chintz couch. Papers and writing materials and books had been displaced from one end of the table for Hazel's tea. That over, the young lady brought a foot-cushion to the side of Mr. Falkirk's couch and established herself there, much refreshed.
'It is great fun to come to tea with you, sir! Now, may I go on with business? or are you too tired?'
'Suppose I say I am too tired?' growled Mr. Falkirk, 'what will you do?'
Hazel glanced up at him from under her eyelashes.
'Wait, sir. I am learning to wait, beautifully!' she answered with great demureness. 'Then suppose I go and tell Mrs. Saddler about my room?'
'Go along,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'Give your orders. You hadbetter send up to the house for some furniture. You'll makeMrs. Saddler happy at any rate. I am not so sure about Gotham.But Gotham has too easy a life in general.'
They had a lively time of it in the other part of the house for the next half day. And so had Mr. Falkirk in his, for that matter: the sweet voice and laugh and song, somehow, penetrated to his study as grosser sounds might have failed to do. It was towards tea-time again when Wych Hazel presented herself in the study on the tips of her toes, and subsiding once more to her cushion glanced up as before at Mr. Falkirk.
'Has the fatigue of yesterday gone off, sir?'
'No; but I see the business has come. Can you be comfortable in your mousehole? Let us have the business, my dear. If it is knotty perhaps it will make me forget my ankle.'
'Ah!' she said remorsefully, 'I was talking of fatigue, sir— not of pain. Is the pain very bad?'
'No, my dear; but I was always inclined to the epicurian side of philosophy, and partial to anodynes; or even counter- irritants.'
'Whose bandage have you got on?' she said curiously.
'Whose? My own.'
'Dear sir, I do not mean as to the linen! Mr. Rollo was coming down to teach Gotham, and I wondered which of them took a lesson. That is all.'
'H'm! Ask Gotham,' said Mr. Falkirk.
'I wish I had been here to see,' said Wych Hazel. 'Never mind, I will next time. By the way, sir, did you leave any orders for me yesterday morning with anybody?'
'What do you mean, my dear?' said her guardian, rather opening his eyes. It is to be noted that though he growled and frowned as much as ever, there had come into Mr. Falkirk's mien an undoubted softening of expression since yesterday.
'I merely asked, sir. But now for business. Mrs. Powder is tohave a grand explosion in the way of a dinner party next week.And she wants me to come and help touch off the fireworks. MayI go?'
'What did you tell her?'
'That I would if you would, sir.'
'Is this the business?'
'Item the first, sir.'
'Well, my dear. Anything conditional upon my movements for some time to come will probably have to be vetoed. But you will have offers of a substitute.'
'The Marylands are going, sir.'
'Of course.'
'Well, Mr. Falkirk, suppose substitutes do offer,—what then?'
'Then you will follow your pleasure, Miss Hazel.'
'Thank you, sir. The next item seems to be a mild form ofthis: a little evening party at Mrs. Gen. Merrick's. And Mrs.Merrick hearing of your accident, sent a note to say that MissBird would convey me to Merricksdale, safe and in good order.'
'Who is Miss Bird?'
'Don't you remember, sir? She came to see me the same morning the Lasalle party came.'
'There are a great many Birds,' said Mr. Falkirk, grumpily, 'and they are not all pigeons.'
'But, my dear Mr. Falkirk, however important such natural history facts may be, they do not exactly meet the case in hand.'
'I don't know whether they meet it or no. Can't you go withMiss Maryland?'
'Not invited, sir.'
'How would you get back?'
'Mrs. Merrick takes charge of that.'
'And didn't think it necessary to inform you how or when?'
'It is only a small party, sir. I should expect to be back early.'
'That needs to be made certain, Miss Hazel, and stipulated for.'
'Well, sir, you shall name the hour.'
'Name it yourself; but be home by half-past eleven. Miss Hazel, I wish, till you have your own horses, you would not go to such places.'
There was a shade of disappointment in her face, but she answered steadily—
'I will not go, sir, if that is really your wish.'
'My dear, we must meet the enemy. In the progress of ladies seeking their fortune that is always understood. What next?'
She hesitated a moment, carefully dressing the petals of a carnation in her hand.
'The third item, sir, is—that if to-morrow afternoon I—will consent to put—my little foot,' said Miss Hazel, evidently mastering a laugh, 'inside the right phaeton—Mr. May will consent to drive.'
'Mr. May! Confound his impudence!' was the by no means doubtful utterance of Miss Hazel's guardian.
Hazel bit her lips and sat demurely waiting further developments.
'Chickaree is in a very exposed situation, Miss Hazel!' Mr. Falkirk remarked, with something a little like a sigh. While, as if to give effect to his words, two well-mounted horsemen at that moment went up the hill, exchanging greetings with the occupants of a landau that was just then making the descent. Wych Hazel looked and laughed.
'It is very comical!' she said. But her guardian was silent. He knew the Enchanted ground had to be met and passed. Perhaps he wished it were well over; but I think the present feeling of discontent relieved itself not even so far.
'And on the whole your three answers are, sir?—' said Hazel, after a pause.
'In your head,' Mr. Falkirk growled. 'You know what they are.'
'My dear sir! one would think they were in your foot!' But then she was silent, and then she began to sing. One thing and another, after her own fitful fashion, in the twilight; and business did not come up again. Only as she went to sleep that night, Miss Kennedy indulged in one profound reflection.
'No,' she said to herself, 'Dr. Maryland was right: Primrose would never do. Get her in a corner, and the most she can say is, "Duke knows." '
So drew on the night of Mrs. Merrick's party; and meantime a rainy day or two saved Mr. Falkirk some trouble, and left the cottage in comparative quiet. But as the night drew near, the clouds cleared away and the sun shone out, and fairer weather could not have been wished for, or wished away.
There had been a running fire of errands and messages between the cottage and the house on the hill, all day. Miss Kennedy was constantly finding out something more that she wanted for the evening, and Dingee went back and forth with notes to Mrs. Bywank and waterproof-covered baskets in return, till Gotham at least lost patience.
'More duds for Miss 'Azel!' he said in displeasure, as Dingee appeared just at nightfall with a final basket. 'It's clean ridikerlous! One dress at a time ought to content any young lady.'
'Now I jes' tell you what, Mas' Gotham,' said Dingee, 'you ain't up to de situation. Pears like de whole countryside after my young mistis!'
Gotham gave a grunt in unsuccessful imitation of his master's growl.
'H'after'er,' he said. 'Looks more as if she was h'after them— wanting fourteen dresses at once.'
Dingee shewed his teeth from ear to ear.
'You bery wise man, Mas' Gotham!' he said. ' 'Spect now you can tell a feller all about dese yere.' And Dingee threw off the white paper which covered what he carried this time, and displayed to Gotham's astonished eyes a basket full of bouquets.
' 'Spect now dese yere growed in Missee Hazel's own greenhouse,' he said, tauntingly, 'seein' she ain't got none! Shouldn't wonder if dey started up spontanous like, arter de shower. How you tink, Mas' Gotham, hey?'
But Gotham was virtuously indignant.
'Miss 'Azel'll get her head worse turned than it h'is now,' he said.
'Heads does turn, fact,' said Dingee, shaking his own. 'Jes' you watch 'em when de horseback gen'lemen dey goes by, Mas' Gotham, and you'll see de heads turn!'
But Gotham had watched enough already to know there was no mistake about that.
'Well,' he said, 'since h'it's 'ere, h'it's 'ere, and 'll 'ave to stay, no doubt. I'll take it to the library.'
'Cotch him first!' said Dingee, moving a little out of reach.'Where Missee Hazel?'
'Prinking 'erself h'up,' answered Gotham severely.
'Gotham telling fibs!' said the young lady in question, coming up behind him with her light tread. 'Perhaps he had better takehimselfto the library, and report to Mr. Falkirk. What do you want of me, Dingee? I thought everything was here.'
Dingee had adroitly covered his basket again, but now he drew near and displayed his treasure, adding messages of a somewhat adorned nature, while Wych Hazel read the cards attached to the bouquets. Gotham, standing a little off, looked on indignant as before, and frowned at the flowers and the flushing cheeks drooped over them, as if he had been Mr. Falkirk himself. But when Hazel caught up the basket and ran off to her little corner room, then Gotham did betake himself to the library, though without quite the report suggested.
'Beg pardon, sir,' he said; 'Miss 'Azel 'ave just received a bushel of flowers, sir,—if you choose to be h'aware, sir.'
'Awhat, Gotham?' said the astonished Mr. Falkirk.
'No person of discretion to detain them at the 'ouse, sir, and so of course they followed Miss 'Azel down 'ere, sir. Boukets enough to last a h'ordinary person all summer, sir. And cards. And ribbands,'—concluded Gotham, beginning to clear the table for tea.
'Look here, Gotham,'—said Mr. Falkirk, from his sofa, whence his eyes followed his serving-man about.
'Yes, sir!' said Gotham, erect and motionless.
'Do you dare to speak of Miss Hazel as an ordinary person?'
'Why, no sir! By no means! Very h'extraordinary, I thought I said, sir—or h'indicated,' replied Gotham, going back to his leisurely motions about the table.
'Have the goodness to remember that it is proper her flowers should be extraordinary.'
'O, you are clearing the table,' Hazel said, flitting in; 'just what I wanted—tea early.'
'Tea never h'is late, Miss 'Azel!' said Gotham in an aggrieved voice.
'I didn't know but it might be to-night,' said the girl provokingly. 'But dear Mr. Falkirk, do you really like to have your books disturbed so often, just for me?'
'My dear,' said Mr. Falkirk rather lazily, brushing one hand over his forehead, 'you have done that for my life generally.'
'My dear Mr. Falkirk!—evidently I have just come in time to receive a shot meant for somebody else. I wonder you allow yourself to fire at random, sir, in that way.'
'Who has been sending you flowers, Miss Hazel?' her guardian asked, without change of tone.
She laughed.
'Shall I leave you the cards, sir—just to pass away the time while I am gone?'
'I'll take them now, Miss Hazel, if you please.' Mr. Falkirk stretched out his hand.
'They are not so precious as to be carried in my pocket, sir.Do you want them before tea?'
'If you please, Miss Hazel!'
'I don't please a bit, sir. I am in a great hurry to go to my dressing. And you know, Mr. Falkirk, you seldom try for "the soul of wit" on such occasions.'
'Does that mean, you refuse me the sight of them?'
'No, sir!—"By no means!"—to quote Gotham,' said Wych Hazel, jumping up. She came back and laid the cards in his hand—quite a packet of them. Mr. Falkirk found names that he knew and names that he did not. He turned them over, speaking some of the names in an inexpressive sotto voce; and then began doubling them up, one after the other, and letting them fall on the floor beside him.
'Have you got a copy of the Arabian Nights in your library, my dear?' he asked. 'I wish you would send for it. I am not posted. I have an indistinct impression of a fight between two rival powers, in which, after a variety of transformations, the one of them in the shape of a kernel of corn was swallowed by the other in some appropriate shape. I should like to study the tactics, watch my opportunity, and make an end of these gentry.' Mr. Falkirk dropped the last card as he spoke.
'Ha! ha!' laughed Wych Hazel in her soft notes. 'You will feel better, sir, when you have had a cup of tea.' And she began preparing it at once. Whether or not Mr. Falkirk felt better he did not say.
The girl went off to her dressing. And just before the hour when Miss Bird must arrive she came silently in again and stood before her guardian. If Mr. Falkirk thought of humming- birds then, it could only have been of the tropical species. A dark dress, that shimmered and glittered and fell into shadows with every motion, first caught his eye; but then Mr. Falkirk saw that it was looped with bouquets. Now either Miss Hazel's admirers had differing tastes, or a different image of her, or else each sent what he could get; for the bouquets were extremely diverse. A bunch of heath and myrtle held up the dress here, a cluster of crimson roses held it back there; another cluster of gold and buff, a trailing handful of glowing fuchsias—there is no need to go through the list. But she had arranged them with great skill to set each other off; tied together by their own ribbands, catching up the shimmer of her dress.
Mr. Falkirk looked, and the fact that his face expressed nothing at all was rather significant. One glance at the girl's face he gave, and turned away.
'Take care, my dear,' he said.
'Of what, sir?'
'How doyouknow but those flowers are bewitched? You would not be the first woman who had put on her own chains.'
She smiled—rather to herself than him—throwing her little white cloak over her shoulders; and then, girl-like, went down on one knee and kissed her guardian's hand.
'Good-night, sir,' she said. The carriage came, and she was gone.
After the day of rain, and the afternoon of clearing wind and clouds, the evening of Mrs. Merrick's party passed into one of those strange, unearthly nights when the whole world seems resolved into moonlight and a midsummer night's dream. So while gas and hot-house flowers had it all their own way in the house at Merricksdale, over the rest of the outside world the wondrous moonlight reigned supreme. Not white and silvery, but as it were gilded and mellowed with the summer warmth. Step by step it invaded the opening ranks of forest trees; and dark shadows wound noiselessly away from the close pursuit. Not a wind whispered; not a moving thing was in sight along the open road. Except indeed Mr. Rollo, who—not invited to Mrs. Merrick's, and just returned from a short journey—was getting over the ground that lay between the railway station and home on foot. And his way took him along the highway that stretched from Crocus to the gates of Chickaree.
Now moonlight is a very bewildering thing—and thoughts do sometimes play the very will-o'-the-wisp with one. And when somebody you know is at a party, there is a funny inclination to go through the motions at least, and be up as late as anybody else. So it was with a somewhat sudden recollection that Mr. Rollo bethought him of what his watch might say. Just then he was in a belt of shadow, where trees crowded out the moon; but the next sharp turn of the road was all open and flooded with the yellow light.
It would be quite too much to suppose that the gentleman in question was particularly open to impressions—and it is certain that his thoughts at that minute were well wrapped up in their own affairs; and yet as he went round the turn, passing out of the line of shadow into absolute moonshine again, there came upon him a strange sense of some presence there besides his own. But what the evidence was, whether it had smote upon his eye or upon his ear, of that Mr. Rollo was profoundly ignorant. Yet it is safe to say that he came out of his musings and looked about him. Only a midsummer night's dream still: the open road for a mile ahead in full view, the dark line of trees on each side as motionless as if asleep. But the utter hush was perhaps more suggestive than the stir of a breezy night: it seemed as if everything was listening and held its breath to hear.
The gentleman in question, however, was not one to let slip such a suggestion to his nerves—or his senses. His nerves were of the coolest and steadiest kind; he could depend onthemfor getting up no shams to puzzle him; and his senses had had capital training. Eye and ear were keen almost as those of some of the wild creatures whose dependence they are; and Rollo had the craft and skill of a practised hunter. So instead of dismissing the fancy that had struck him, as most men would, he fell noiselessly into the shadow again, with eyes and ears alive on the instant to take evidence that might be relied on. But nothing stirred. Nothing shewed. Except as before, the yellow moonlight and the dark trees. Rollo was a hunter, and patient. He stood still. The shadowy edges of the stream of light changed slowly, slightly, and still the evidence he looked for did not come. Nothing seemed to change but those dark fringes; only now some wave of the branches as the wind began to rise, let in the moonlight for a moment upon a small white speck across the road. He thought so: something whiter than a wet stone or a bleached stick,—or it might be fancy. Noiselessly and almost invisibly, for Dane could move like an Indian, and with such quickness, he was over the road and at the spot. There was no mistaking the token—it was a little glove of Wych Hazel's. Evidently dropped in haste; for one of her well-known jewelled fastenings lay glittering in his hand. But—Mrs. Gen. Merrick lived quite in another quarter of the world; and in no case did the direct road from Merricksdale lead by here.
If Rollo's senses had been alive before, which was but their ordinary and normal condition, he was now in the frame of mind of a Sioux on the war-path, and in corresponding alertness and acuteness of every faculty. The little glove was swiftly put where it would furnish a spot of light to no one else; and in breathless readiness for action, though that is rhetorical, for Rollo's breath was as regular and as calm as cool nerves could make it, he subsided again into the utter inaction which is all eye and ear. And then in a few minutes, from across the road again, and near where he was at first, came these soft words:
'Mr. Rollo—will you give quarter if I surrender at discretion?Just to save you trouble—and let me get home the quicker.'
In the next instant the gentleman stood by the lady's side. Well for him that he was a hunter, and that habit is a great thing; for he made no exclamations and showed no disturbance, though Wych Hazel in the woods at that time of night, was a thing to try most people's command of words at least. Only in the spring which brought him across the road he had spoken the one word "Hazel!" louder than an Indian would have done. Then he stood beside her. Wych Hazel herself—bareheaded, without gloves, her little white evening cloak not around her shoulders, but rolled up into the smallest possible compass, and held down by her side. She had been standing in the deepest depth of shadow under a low drooping hemlock, and now came out to meet him. But she seemed to have no more words to give. That something had happened, was very clear. Rollo's first move was to take the girl's hand, and the second to inquire in a low voice how she came there. The hand-touch was not in compliment, but such a taking-possession clasp as Hazel had felt from it before; one that carried, as a hand-clasp can, its guaranty of protection, guidance, defence.
Hazel did not answer at first—only there went a shiver over her from head to foot; and her hand was as cold as ice.
'I am very glad to find you, Mr. Rollo,' she said in a sort of measured voice; he could not tell what was in it.—'Will you walk home with me?'
Rollo's answer was not in a hurry. He first took from Wych Hazel her little bundle of the opera cloak, shook it out, and put it around her shoulders, drawing the fastening button at the throat; then taking the little cold hand in his clasp again, and with the other arm lingering lightly round her shoulders, he asked her "what had happened?"
People are different, as has been remarked. There was nobody in the world that could have put the question to Wych Hazel as he put it, and afterwards she could recognize that. Mr. Falkirk's words would have been more anxious; Dr. Maryland's would have been more astonished; and any one of Miss Hazel's admirers would have made speeches of surprise and sympathy and offered service. Rollo's was a business question, albeit in its somewhat curt accentuation there lurked a certain readiness for action; and there was besides, though indefinably expressed, the assumption of a right to know and a very intimate personal concern in the answer. How his eyes were looking at her the moonlight did not serve to shew; they were in shadow; yet even that was not quite hid from the object of them; and the arm that was round her was there, not in freedom-taking, but with the unmistakeable expression of shelter. So he stood and asked her what had happened.
'Thank you,' she said in the same measured tone. 'I am not cold—I think. But it is safe now. Will you walk home very fast, please? I promised Mr. Falkirk that I would be home by eleven!'—There was an accent of real distress then.
'Do you know what o'clock it is now?' said Rollo, drawing out his watch.
'I hoped—a while ago—it was near morning.'
He did not say what time it was. He put the little hand on his arm, guided Hazel into the road, and began his walk homeward, but with a measured quiet pace, not 'very fast.'
'Why did you wish it was morning?' he asked in the same way in which he had spoken before. No haste in it; calm business and self-possession; along with the other indications above mentioned. It was cool, but it was the coolness of a man intensely alive to the work in hand; the intonation towards Wych Hazel very gentle.
'I thought I had to walk home alone,' she said simply. 'And I wanted the time to come.'
'Please tell me the meaning of all this. You went toMerricksdale this evening—last evening?'
'Yes.' Words did not come readily.
Rollo added no more questions then. He went steadily on, keeping a gentle pace that Wych Hazel could easily bear, until they came to the long grey stone house where she had once run in from the storm. At the gate Rollo paused and opened it, leading his companion up to the door.
'I am going to take you in here for a little while,' he said.'We will disturb nobody—don't fear; I have a key.'
'In here?' she said, rousing up then. 'O no!—Imustgo home,Mr. Rollo. Did you bring methisway—I did not notice.'
'You shall go home just as soon as possible,' he said; 'but come in here and I will tell you my reasons for stopping.'
The door opened noiselessly. The moonlight showed the way, shining in through the fanlights, and Rollo pushed open the door of the library and brought his charge in there. The next thing was to strike a match and light two candles. The room looked very peaceful, just as it had been deserted by the family a few hours before; Rosy's work basket with the work overflowing it, the books and papers on the table where the gentleman had been sitting; the chairs standing where they had been last used. Past the chairs Rollo brought Wych Hazel to the chintz sofa and seated her there with a cushion at her back; drew up a foot cushion, and unfastened her opera cloak. All this was done with quiet movements and in silence. He left her then for a few minutes. Coming back, presented her on a little tray a glass of milk and a plate of rusks.
'I could get nothing else,' said he, 'without rousing the people up to give me keys. But I know the way to Prim's dairy— and I know which are the right pans to go to. Miss Prudentia always objected to that in me.'
'But I cannot see anybody—nor speak to anybody—nor do anything—till I have seen Mr. Falkirk,' said Hazel, looking up at him with her tired eyes. 'Indeed I am not hungry.'
He stood before her and bade her 'drink a little milk—it was good.'
Her brows drew together slightly, but—if that was the quickest way she would take that—and so half emptied the tumbler and set it down again.
'Now let us go.'
He at down before her then.
'Is there anything in what has happened to-night which makes you wish to keep it from the rest of the world? except of course Mr. Falkirk and me?'
If his object was to rouse her from the mechanical way in which she had hitherto moved and spoken, success is rarely more perfect. Crimson and scarlet and all shades of colour went over her face and neck at the possible implications in his words; but she drew herself up with a world of girlish dignity, and then the brown eyes looked straight into his.
'It is nobody's business,' she answered. 'So far.—No further.'
He smiled. 'You mistake me,' he said, very pleasantly. 'That is my awkwardness. Itisnobody's business—except Mr. Falkirk's and mine. But you know very well that fact is no bar to people's tongues. And sometimes one does not choose to give them the material—and sometimes one does not care. My question meant only, do you care in this instance? and was a practical question.'
'What doyoumean?' she said, quickly. 'Say out all that is in your mind. How can I judge of it by inches.'
'You have not enlightened me,' he said, 'andIcan judge of nothing. Do you wish to get home without letting anybody know you have been out? or may I call Primrose down and give you into her hands to be taken care of? Surely you know my other question referred not to anything but the impertinence of the world generally.'
'O! I will go home!' she said, rising up. 'I cannot see anybody. And Mr. Falkirk!—He might send for me!'
'Mr. Falkirk is fast asleep,' said Rollo. 'He will have concluded that you were kept at Mrs. Merrick's. Sit down again, and rest,' he said, gently putting her back on the cushions, (he had risen when she rose)—'we are not ready to go quite yet. You must take breath first. And we must not rouse up Chickaree at this hour. If you were known to have staid with Miss Maryland—would not that be the best way?'
'How is one to know the best, where all are bad?'—Hazel rested her head in her hands and sat thinking.
'No,' said he quietly—'we'll try and not have that true. If you could trust me with the story of the evening, I might be able to judge and act better for you.'
'Did you bring me here that I might not get home at such an hour?' she said suddenly, looking up.
'I promised to tell you my reasons. Yes, that was one of them. The people at Chickaree must not know of your coming home in the middle of the night, on foot. If I take you home at a fair hour in the morning, it will be all right. Not on foot,' said he, smiling. He was so composed and collected, that his manner had everything in it to soothe and reassure her. Not the composure of one who does not care, but of one who will take care.
'And Mr. Falkirk would say the same,'—she spoke as if reasoning the matter out with herself. 'Then I must wait. But do not call anybody. Mayn't I sit here just quietly by myself?'
'Suppose you take possession of one of Prim's spare rooms, and astonish the family at breakfast? All you need say is that you came after they were all gone to their rooms. Dr. Maryland will never seek for a reason. And Prim will never ask for one. But if you prefer it, I will take you home before they are up.'
'Just as you please,' she answered wearily: indeed weariness was fast getting the upper hand. 'Youmust want rest, I should think. What were you doing there?' she asked with her former suddenness. 'Were you looking for me? Did you know where I was—not?'
'No,' he said, smiling again, 'I had been to Troy to look at some horses, about which I had been in correspondence; and wishing to be here to-morrow—that is, to-day!—it pleased me to take a night train which set me down at Henderson; no nearer; I was walking across country to get home. And I feel as if I never should be "tired" again. Come—you can have some time of rest at least; and I will carry you home before or after breakfast, just as you please.'
Upstairs with noiseless footfalls—and Rollo reminding Wych Hazel which was Primrose's room, indicated another close by, within which he said he believed she would find what she wanted. That room was always kept in order for strangers; and no strangers were in the house now.
'Primrose will come to you in the morning,' he said, 'unless you wish to go before that?'
Wych Hazel turned and held out her hand.
'Thank you!' she said. Then in answer to his last words—'I shall be ready for either.'
Wherein, however, Miss Kennedy made a mistake. For having once put herself down on the fresh white bed, sleep took undisputed possession and held it straight on. Neither rousing bell nor breakfast bell roused her; nor opening door—if any opened; nor steps—if any came. Sleep so profound that she never turned nor stirred nor raised her cheek from the hand where first she laid it down. And the sun was getting a new view of the western slopes of the Chickaree woods, before the young mistress thereof sat up in her strange room and looked about her.
'Well, you are awake at last!' cried Prim, bending to kiss her. 'Iamglad! though I was glad to have you sleep, too. How tired you were!'
Wych Hazel passed her hands over her face; but the newt move was to put her arms round Prim's neck and for a moment her head on Prim's shoulder. Then she sprang up and hurriedly shook her dress into some sort of order.
'O! I have slept a great deal too long,' she said.
'Why? No, you have slept just enough. Now you would like to change your dress. There is a valise full of things from home for you. And when you are ready you shall have some breakfast, or dinner, or tea, just which you like to call it.'
Primrose could not read the look and flush that greeted the valise; and indeed she needed an entire new dictionary for her friend this day. When Hazel made her appearance down stairs, hat in hand, she had more things in her face than Prim had ever met, even in dreams. Dr. Maryland was not there; the table was spread in the library, where the afternoon light poured in through its green veil of branches and leaves; and Prim gave her guest a new greeting, as glad as if she had given her none before.
'I'm sure of having you hungry, now, Hazel,' she exclaimed. 'I didn't know what was best to give you; but Duke said coffee would be sure to be right.'
'I wonder if you ever suggest anything which he does not think is "sure to be right"?' said Wych Hazel. 'I wonder if anybody down here ever makes a mistake of any sort?'
'Mistakes? oh! plenty,' said Primrose. 'I do; and I supposeDuke does. I don't know about papa. Now, dear Hazel, sit down.Duke will be here directly.'