Susan and Anna Warner - Wych Hazel

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'I was called here, it seems, to await your commands, Mr.
Rollo. May I have them, if they are ready?'

'They are not ready,' he answered, in a very low tone. 'Let
Miss Wych Hazel give commands to herself,--and be loyal and
true in her obedience to them.'

'I have given myself a good many since I have been in this
room,' said the girl, proudly. 'If I had not I should not be
here now.'

'Will you sit down?'

'Thank you--no. Unless we are to spend the rest of the night in
quiet conversation.'

'Then we will make the conversation short. Miss Hazel, the
company and the occasion you came to grace to-night are
unworthy of the honour.'

He paused for a reply, but, as none came, he went on:

'You do not know it now, but in the mean time I know it; and I
must act upon my knowledge. I have come to take you home.
Cannot you trust me, that I would not--for much--do anything so
displeasing to you, without good reason?'

'You men are so fond of being "trusted!" ' she said--quietly,
though there was some bitterness in the tone--'it is almost a
wonder it never occurs to you that a woman might like it too!
I know every one of the carriage party with whom I came. And
that I did not ask Mr. Falkirk's leave before I left home was
only because I did not know that I should need it.' But with
that came a quick painful blush, as suddenly remembering other
leave that must now be asked.

'I believe you may be trusted thoroughly, so far as your
knowledge goes,' he answered, gravely. Then waited a moment
and went on.

'You have had no supper. Will you take some refreshment before
we set out upon our return journey?'

She stood, leaning against the wall, not looking at anything
but the floor--and not seeing that;--as still as if she had not
heard him. Thinking--what was she thinking?--Then suddenly stood
up and answered.

'I can but obey. May I ask you to wait five minutes?--Stand
away, Prim, and let me pass.'

But he stayed her.

'It is better not to set people's tongues at work. I have sent
a message to the Miss Powders, to the effect that Miss Kennedy
had been suddenly summoned home, and making your excuses. As
from yourself. No name but yours appeared.'

If there was any one thing he had done which tried her almost
unbearably, it was that! There was a sort of quiet despair in
the way she turned from him and the door together, and took
the chair she had refused, and sat waiting. Rollo brought her
silently a cup of coffee and a plate with something to eat,
but both were refused.

'Are you ready, Prim?'

Primrose nervously put on her bonnet, which she had with
nervous unrest taken off; and Rollo offered his arm to Wych
Hazel.

'Let me go by myself,' she said--again not roughly, but as if
she could not help it. 'I am not going to run away.'

'In that case it is certainly not the arm of a jailor,' said
he, stooping down by her and smiling.

But the words, or the look, or something about them, very
nearly got the better of Wych Hazel's defences, and her eyes
flushed with tears.

'No--no,' she said under her breath. 'I will follow. Go on.'

'Certainly not _me_,' he answered. 'Go you with Prim, and I will
follow.'

One before and one behind!--thought the girl to herself,
comparing the manner of her entrance. She went on, not with
Prim, but swiftly ahead of her, and put herself in the
carriage, as she had brought herself out of the house. Prim
followed. Rollo mounted the box and took the reins, and,
having fresh horses from the inn, they drove off at a smart
pace. And Hazel, laying one hand on the sill of the open
window, leaned her head against the frame, and so, wrapped in
her black lace, sat looking out, with eyes that never seemed
to waver. Into the white moonshine,--which soon would give way
before the twilight 'which should be dawn and a to-morrow.'

For a long time Primrose bore this, thinking hard too on her
part. For she had much to think of, in connection with both
her companions. She was hurt for Rollo; she was grieved for
Wych Hazel; was there anything personal and private to herself
in her vexation at the needlessness of the trouble which was
affecting them? If there were, Primrose did not look at it
much. But it seemed very strange in her eyes that any one
should rebel against what was, to her, the honey sweetness of
Dane's authority. Strange that anything he disliked, should be
liked by anybody that had the happiness of his care. And
strange beyond strangeness, that this girl should slight such
words and looks as he bestowed upon her. Primrose knew how
deep the meaning of them was; she knew how great the grace of
them was; could it be possible Wych Hazel did not know? One
such word and look would have made her happy for days; upon a
few of them she could have lived a year. So it seemed to her.
She did not wish that they were hers; she did not repine that
they were another's; she only thought these things. But there
were other thoughts that came up, as a sigh dismissed the
foregoing.

'Hazel!--' she ventured gently, when half of the way was done.

Hazel's thoughts had been so far away that she started.

'What?' she said hastily.

'May I talk to you, just a little bit?'

'O yes,--certainly. Anybody may do anything to me.' But she
kept her position unchanged. 'I am listening, Prim.'

'Hazel, dear, are you quite sure you are doing right?'

'About what?'

'About-- Please don't take it ill of me, but it troubles me,
Hazel. About this sort of life you are leading.'

'This sort of life?' Hazel repeated, thinking over some of the
days last past. 'Much you know about it!'

'I do not suppose I do. I cannot know much about it,' said
Primrose meekly. 'All _my_ way of life has been so different.
But do you think, Hazel, really, that there is not something
better to do with one's self than what all these gay people
do?'

'I think you are a great deal better than I am--if that will
content you.'

'Why should it content me?' said Primrose, laughing a little.
'I do not see anything pleasant in it, even supposing it were
true.'

'There is some use in training you,' Hazel went on; 'but no
amount of pruning would ever bring me into shape.' And with
that, somehow, there came up the thought of a little sketch,
wherein her hat swung gayly from the top of a rough hazel
bush; and with the thought a pain so keen, that for the moment
her head went down upon her hands on the window-sill.

Primrose was silent a few moments, not knowing just how to
speak.

'But Hazel,' she began, slowly--'all these gay people you are
so much with, they live just for the pleasure of the minute;
and when the pleasure of the minute is over, what remains? I
cannot bear to have you forget that, and become like them.'

'Like them?' said Hazel. 'Am I growing like Kitty Fisher?'

'No, no, no!' cried Primrose. 'You are not a bit like her, not
a bit. I do not mean that; but I mean, dear,--aren't you just
living for the moment's pleasure, and forgetting something
better?'

'Forgetting a good many things, you think.'

'Aren't you, Hazel? And I cannot bear to have you.'

'What am I to remember?' said the girl in a sort of dreamy
tone, with her thoughts on the wing.

'Remember that you have something to do with your life and
with yourself, Hazel; something truly noble and happy and
worth while. I am sure dancing-parties are not enough to live
on. Are they?'

'No.'

Perhaps Primrose thought she had said enough; perhaps she did
not know how to choose further words to hit the girl's mood.
She was patiently silent. Suddenly Hazel sat up and turned
towards her.

'You poor little Prim!' she said, laying gentle hands on her
shoulders and a kiss on each cheek,--'whirled off from your
green leaves on a midnight chase after witches! This was one
of Mr. Rollo's few mistakes: he should have come alone.'

'Should he?' said Primrose, wondering. 'But it wouldn't have
been so good for you, dear, would it?'

'Prim'--somewhat irrelevantly--'did you ever have a thorn in
your finger?'

'What do you mean?' Primrose answered in just bewilderment.

'Well I have two in mine.' And Miss Kennedy went back to the
window and her world of moonlight. She did not wonder that the
Indians reckoned their time by 'moons;' she was beginning to
check off her own existence in the same way. In one moon she
had walked home from Merricksdale, in another driven back from
Mrs. Seaton's; and now in this--But then her head went down
upon the window-sill once more, nor was lifted again until the
carriage was before the steps of Chickaree.

'Dane,' said Primrose, as the two were parting in the dusky
hall at home, 'she will never get over this. Never, never,
never!'

He kissed her, laughing, and giving her hand a warm grasp.

'You are mistaken,' he said. 'She is a more sensible woman
than you giver her credit for.'

CHAPTER XXXIII.

HITS AT CROQUET.

The second day after the four-in-hand club affair, the
following note was brought to Miss Hazel:

'Will you ride with me this afternoon?
'M. O. R.'

And perhaps five words have seldom taken longer to write than
these which he received by return messenger:

'Not to-day. Please excuse me.
'Wych Hazel.'

It happened that invitations were out for a croquet party at
Chickaree; and the day of the party was appointed the third
succeeding these events. Thither of course al the best of the
neighbourhood were invited.

The house at Chickaree stood high on a hill; nevertheless
immediately about the house there was lawn-room enough and
smooth greensward for the purposes of the play. The very fine
old trees which bordered and overshadowed it lent beauty and
dignity to the little green; and the long, low, grey house,
with some of its windows open to the verandah, and the
verandah itself extending the whole length of the building,
with cane garden-chairs and Indian settees hospitably planted,
made a cheery, comfortable background. September was yet
young, and the weather abundantly warm; the sort of weather
when everybody wants to be out of doors. No house in the
country could show a prettier croquet-green than Chickaree
that afternoon.

Mr. Falkirk had mounted the hill in advance of other comers,
and stood surveying the prospect generally from the verandah.

'Who is to be here, Miss Hazel? I am like a bear newly come
out of his winter-quarters--only that my seclusion has been in
the other season of the year.'

'Pray let the resemblance go no further, sir! Who is to be
here?' said Miss Kennedy, drawing on her dainty gloves,--'all
the available people, I suppose. Unless they change their
minds.'

'Have the goodness to enlighten me. _Available people_--available
for what?'

'Croquet--and flirting.'

'If you please-- I understand, I believe, the first term; it
means, to stand on the green and roll balls about among each
other's feet; but what is comprehended in "flirting"?'

'Standing in the air and rolling balls there,' said Miss
Kennedy.

'Ah! Don't people get hit occasionally?'

'Very likely. But they do not tell.'

'Ah! My dear, has anybody hit you?'

'Thank you, sir,--I generally keep on the ground.'

Mr. Falkirk suspended his questions for the space of five
minutes.

'I have not heard of your taking any rides lately,' he began
again.

'No, sir.'

'How comes that?'

'It comes by my refusing to go.'

'Why, my dear?' said her guardian, looking her innocently in
the face.

'Aren't you glad, sir?--How do you do, Mr. Kingsland? Will you
be kind enough to explain to Mr. Falkirk the last code of
flirtation? while I go and give an order?'

'It is the only thing in which Miss Kennedy is not
unsurpassed,--to make my definition short,' said the gentleman,
taking a chair. 'I think she will never learn.'

Primrose Maryland was the immediate next arrival; and she sat
down on the other side of Mr. Falkirk, looking as innocent as
her name. Mr. Falkirk had always a particular favour for
Primrose.

'Did you come alone, my dear?' he incautiously asked; for Mr.
Kingsland was at his other elbow. And Prim knew no better than
to answer according to fact.

'Where is Rollo?'

'I don't know, sir. I suppose he is at home.'

'Doubtless thinking one guardian may suffice--as it is a mere
croquet party,' said Mr. Kingsland smoothly, but with a covert
glance of his eye at Mr. Falkirk. Both Primrose and Mr.
Falkirk glanced at him in return, but his words got no other
recognition, for people began to come upon the scene. And the
scene speedily became gay; everybody arriving by the side
entrance and passing through the broad hall to the front of
the house. Wych Hazel, returned from her errand, came now
slowly through the hall herself with the last arrival.

'I feared you were ill with fatigue,' said a pleasant man's
voice. 'Three times I have called to inquire, and three times
gone away in despair.'

'I was very tired.'

'But what was the matter?' said the gentleman, pausing in the
doorway. 'Some call of sudden illness? a demand upon your
sympathies?'

'Nothing of the kind.'

'How then?' said Captain Lancaster, with an appearance of
great interest. 'One does not lose a pleasure--and such a
pleasure--without at least begging to know why. If it is
permitted. We began to think that the witches must have got
hold of you in that dark room.'

'One did,' said the girl, so gravely that Captain Lancaster
was posed. She knew perfectly well what ears were listening;
but there was something in her nature which always disdained
to creep out of a difficulty; so she stood still, and answered
as he had spoken, aloud.

'O, Miss Kennedy,' cried Molly Seaton, 'that's a fib. Not a
real witch?'

'Pretty genuine, I think,' said Hazel, with her half laugh.

Now there is no way in the world to puzzle people like telling
them the truth. The gentleman and the lady were puzzled.
Stuart Nightingale and half a dozen more came up at the
instant; and the question of the game to be played, for the
time scattered all other questions.

For a while now the little green at Chickaree was a pretty
sight. Dotted with a moving crowd of figures, in gay-coloured
dresses, moving in graceful lines or standing in pretty
attitudes; the play, the shifting of places, the cries and the
laughter, all made a flashing, changing picture, full of life
and full of picturesque prettiness. The interests of the game
were at first absorbing. When a long match had been played,
however, and there was a pause for refreshments, there was
also a chance for rolling balls in the more airy manner Wych
Hazel had indicated.

'What was the matter the other night?' Stuart Nightingale
demanded softly, as he brought the little lady of the house an
ice.

'I could not stay.'

'Summoned home by no disaster?'--

'It was a sort of disaster to me to be obliged to go,' said
Wych Hazel, 'but I found neither earthquake nor volcano at
home.'

'Who came for you, Hazel?' said Phinny Powder, pushing into
the group which was forming. 'I said it was downright wicked
to let you go off so. How did we know but that something
dreadful had got hold of you? I thought they ought all of them
to go in a body and knock the doors down and find out. But
after your message they wouldn't. Who _did_ come for you,
Hazel?'

'Who did?' said Hazel. 'Do you think it could have been the
same parties who once sent away my carriage when I wanted it?'

'No,' said Phinny; 'I know it wasn't. But who _did_ come for
you, Hazel? Nobody knew where you were. And what made you go,
if there was no earthquake at home, as you said?'

'Were you _made_ to go, really?' asked Mme. Lasalle, slyly. 'Has
Josephine hit the mark with a stray arrow?'

'O, of course I was made to go,--or I shouldn't have gone,'
said Wych Hazel lightly. 'My own carriage came for me,
Josephine, and I came home in it. Do you feel any better?'

'No, I don't!' said that young lady boldly, while others who
were silent used their eyes. '_You_ didn't order it, and I just
want to know who did. O, Hazel, I want to ask you--' But she
lowered her voice and glanced round her suspiciously.

'Is it safe? Where is that old Mr.----? do you see him anywhere?
He has eyes, and I suppose he has ears. Hush! I guess it's
safe. Hazel, my dear, _have_ you got two guardians, you poor
creature?'

'Have you only just found that out?' said Hazel, drawing a
little back from the whisper and answering aloud. 'Prim, what
will you have? Mr. May, please bring another ice for Miss
Maryland.'

'Well, I've guessed it all summer,' said Kitty Fisher, putting
her word in now. 'I always knew that when Miss Kennedy turned
round, the Duke turned too, to see what she was looking at.'

If truth be no slander, it is sometimes full as hard to bear.
Wych Hazel eat her own ice for the next two minutes and
wondered what it was.

'Hazel, my dear, you had need to be a saint!' Mme. Lasalle
whispered. 'It is--absolutely--outrageous; something not to be
borne!'

'But the fun of it is,' broke in Kitty again, 'that we all
took it for granted it was mere lover-like devotion! And now,
behold, c'est tout au contraire!'

Since the day of the ride it had been war to the knife with
Kitty Fisher.

'Kitty! Kitty!' said Mr. Kingsland in soft deprecation.

'My dear,' Mme. Lasalle went on mockingly, 'perhaps he would
not approve of your eating so much ice. Hadn't you better take
care?'

'Must we ask him about everything now, before we can have
you?' cried Josephine, in great indignation, quite unfeigned,
though possibly springing from a double root. 'O, was it _he_
came for you to Greenbush?'

But with that Hazel roused herself.

'You had better ask him anything you want answered,' she said.
'I think he has quite a genius that way.'

'What way? O, you know, friends, perhaps, _she likes it_. What
way, Hazel?'

'Does he speak soft when he gives his orders?' said Kitty
Fisher. 'Or does he use his ordinary tone?'

'And oh, Miss Kennedy,' said little Molly Seaton, 'isn't it
_awfully_ nice to have such a handsome man tell you what to do?'

Now Hazel had been at her wits' end, feeling as if there was a
trap for her, whatever she said or did not say. Pain and
nervousness and almost fright had kept her still. But Molly's
question brought things to such a climax, that she burst into
an uncontrollable little laugh, and so answered everybody at
once in the best manner possible. The sound of her laugh
brought back the gentlemen too,--roaming off after their own
ices,--and that would make a diversion.

But it came up again and again. It was to some too tempting a
subject of fun; for others it had a deeper interest; it could
not be suffered to lie still. Wych Hazel's ears could hardly
get out of the sound of raillery, in all sorts of forms; from
the soft insinuation of mischief in a mosquito's song, to the
downright attacks of Kitty Fisher's teeth and Phinny Powder's
claws. The air was full of it at last, to Wych Hazel's fancy;
even the gentlemen, when they dared not speak openly, seemed
in manner or tone to be commiserating or laughing at her.

'The diplomacy of truth!' said Mr. Kingsland to Mr. Falkirk,
as Hazel passed near them with Mme. Lasalle. 'I must believe
in it as a fixed fact,--where it exists! I should judge, by
rough estimate, that Miss Kennedy had been asked about fifty-
five trying questions this day; and in not one case, to my
knowledge, has her answer even clipped the truth. She is a
ninth wonder,--and from that on to the twenty-ninth! With all
her innocence and ignorance--which would not comprehend nine-
tenths of what might be said to her, I do not know the man who
would dare say one word which she should not hear!'--With which
somewhat unusual expression of his feelings Mr. Kingsland took
himself away, leaving Prim and Mr. Falkirk alone on the
verandah.

But it was a rather weary-faced young hostess that wrapped
Prim up, after that, and the lips that kissed her were hot.

Mr. Falkirk went down to his cottage and came back to
breakfast the next morning, without having broached to his
ward several subjects which stirred his thoughts. Finding
himself in the fresh light of the new day, and in the security
of the early morning, seated opposite Miss Hazel at the
breakfast table, with the croquet confusion a thing of the
past, he opened his mind.

'You had no wine yesterday, my dear, I observed.'

'No, sir. As I intended.'

'That is not according to custom--of other people.'

'It is my custom--henceforth,' said Wych Hazel.

'Are the reasons too abstruse for my comprehension?'

The girl looked up at him, her eyes kindling.

'Mr. Falkirk,' she said, 'if ever again a man gets a glass of
wine from my hand, or in my house, I shall deserve to live
that July night all over!'

Mr. Falkirk did not at all attempt to combat this conclusion.
He ate his toast with an extremely thoughtful face for some
minute or two.'

'Suppose, by and by, there should be two words to that
bargain?'

'Then there will be several more, sir,--that is all,' she said
steadily, though her face glowed.

'You mean that you will fight for your position?'

'Inch by inch. Fight for it, and keep it.'

Mr. Falkirk's lips gave way a little, though with what
expression it was impossible to determine.

'To remark that your position will be remarked upon as
peculiar is, I am aware, to make a fruitless expenditure of
words in your hearing, Miss Hazel. But it will not make much
difference what you do, my dear. They will find the article,
in its varieties, at every other house that is open to them.'
Mr. Falkirk was thinking probably of young men.

'Well, sir--I, at least, will have no part in making any man
unfit to speak to a woman.'

Mr. Falkirk ruminated again, and then broke out:

'Why did not Rollo come with Miss Maryland yesterday?'

'I presume, because he did not want to come,--but perhaps you
had better ask him,' said Miss Hazel.

'Why should I ask him?' returned her guardian, looking up at
her. 'Has Mr. Rollo offended you, Miss Hazel?'

'I merely thought you wanted to know, sir. No,' she answered,
to his last question. 'He was invited--if that is what you
mean.'

'I fancied,' said Mr. Falkirk, looking puzzled, 'that in the
general buzz of tongues yesterday--which is fit to confuse
anything with more brains than a mosquito--I heard various
buzzings which seemed to have reference to him. Perhaps I was
wrong. I did not mean to listen, but if a fly gets into your
ear it is difficult not to know it. Was I right, or was I
wrong?'

'Right, I fancy, sir. Mr. Rollo's name is very often upon
people's tongues.'

'What did they mean? What was it about?'

She hesitated a little.

'I daresay your opinion was correct, Mr. Falkirk, as to the
meaning as well as the buzz. It is hardly worth bringing up
again.'

If Mr. Falkirk had any roughness in his manner or in his
composition, he had also and certainly a very gentle side of
it for his ward. He looked at her again and dropped the
subject. But he had got another. He waited a little before
bringing it up.

'Another thing I heard confused my ideas, Miss Hazel. You must
not wonder at me; you know, a bear _just_ out of winter quarters
might well be astonished at coming into a garden full of
crickets, and a little unable to distinguish one song from
another. But it seemed to me that I heard something said--or
alluded to--about your being unwillingly obliged to go home
from somewhere. Can you give me any explanation?'

The pause was longer this time, the colour unsteady. Then she
put both hands up to her forehead, pushing back the dark rings
of hair with an impatient touch, and began, speaking low and
rapidly, but straight to the point.

'I was invited to a garden party at Mrs. Powder's, and after I
got there, found out that the invitation included a four-in-
hand drive to Greenbush. And I went. And Mr. Rollo heard of my
going, and followed me there with Primrose and Reo and the
carriage, and made me come back.'--She had gone on, throwing in
details, as if to prevent their being called for. Now the
scarlet flush with which the last words were spoken faded
away, and she was silent and rather pale.

I suppose Mr. Falkirk had done his breakfast. If not, he lost
the last part of it. For as Wych Hazel stopped speaking he
rose from the table and began to take turns up and down the
room; scowling, it must be confessed, as if he would have
rather liked an excuse to 'pitch into' his co-guardian. He
said nothing for some minutes, and it was not necessary; his
eyebrows were eloquent.

'A four-in-hand party!' he said at last. 'Who got it up?'

'Some of the four-in-hand club.'

'Who are they, Miss Hazel?'

'Mr. May, Captain Lancaster, Dr. Singleton,'--Hazel named over
sundry names that were unknown to Mr. Falkirk.

'He's a bold man!' said Mr. Falkirk, probably not referring to
any member of the club aforesaid. 'I wonder at his impudence.
But, my dear!--a four-in-hand party, and Greenbush at night,--
that was no sort of place for you to be! Do you know how these
parties come home, who go out so bravely?'

'I knew pretty well, sir, how my party would,' said his ward.

'No you didn't. How should you know anything about it? The
young mouse in the fable thought the cat was a very fine
gentleman. Con--found him!' said Mr. Falkirk, stopping short,
'how did he know? Was he at the garden party at the
Governor's?'

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