'And the fainting?and the walk over the hill? over rough and smooth, where your little feet must have had a hard time of it; and you laid it up against me?'

What had Gyda told him? Not that, for that was not true. But what? Hazel's head drooped lower.

'Mr. Rollo,' she said seriously, 'if you do not cure yourself of your habit of making statements, some day you will acquire the habit of making mistakes.'

'No, I shall not,' he said coolly. 'You will not let me.'

If that were one, Hazel made no attempt to correct it; having no mind just then to deal with any of his mistakes, in any shape; remembering too exactly what some of them had been. So she sat very still, looking down at the two small folded hands, and wondered to herself if Mr. Rollo had cross-questioned Gyda? if he meant to cross-question her?and if he did, where she should hide? That fainting, that walk across the hill!even now, with three long days of oblivion between, and the sorrow and the doubt all pushed aside; even now, she could hardly bear the recollection; and just caught the deep sigh that was coming, and shut her lips tight, and kept it back.

And that was what had troubled him! The colour flitted and changed in her cheeks, in the sort of live way Wych Hazel's colour had, and then the brown eyes gave a swift sidelong glance, to see what the owner of the grey ones was about?

He was studying her, as if he had a mind to find out all her thoughts in their secret hiding-places. But his attention was diverted now to something in his fingers, which he was unfolding and unwrapping; and presently he took one of the little folded hands, the left one, and put upon the forefinger a ring set with a very large emerald. The ring fitted; the stone was superb. Rollo laid the little hand, so beringed, in his own palm, and looked at it there; then his eye met Hazel's with a bright, sweet, peculiar smile.

'We shall never misunderstand each other again, Wych! Shall we?'

It was queer, to see the colour recede and get out of sight, as if gathering strength for its vivid return. But Hazel did not look at him, nor at the ring, not at anything,did not see anything, probably, just then. She caught her breath a little, finding her words one by one

'But Inevermisunderstoodyou,' she said.

'Would you like to stand an examination on that point?'

Hazel considered a little.

'I am willing to hear anystatements.'

'I thought just now you objected to them. However, it will be necessary for me to make a good many, sooner or later, just to make sure that you know what you are about in marrying me. But to begin with this emerald.Do you know what it means?'

It did occur to the girl, as she went on a foray after her thoughts, that she had no immediate intention of marrying anybody! But to use her own words, that was not the point in hand.

'Means?' she repeated,which of all the five hundred and forty things that it meant did Mr. Rollo wish to have set forth!'But you are to make statementsnot ask questions,' she said.

'It is an old jewel that I have had reset for you. I preferred it to a diamond, because it is a finer stone than any diamond in my possession, and because of the meaning, as I said. In the description of John's vision in the Revelation, it is said "there was a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like to an emerald."In Ezekiel's vision the word is, "as the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud in the day of rain." '

Partly shielding her face with her other hand, Hazel sat studying the ring, her eyes intent and grave and wide open as a child's.

'What does the rainbow mean?' he asked.

'It was a promise against desolationat first,' she said slowly; very unconsciously betraying what already the emerald was to her.

'The promise was against desolationthe bow was the sign for the faithfulness of the promiser. Where is your Bible?'

He went on, talking purposely to let Hazel find her composure, for he saw she was scarcely able to take her part in any conversation. So he went on. He knew she was listening.

'Do you see?the rainbow "like to an emerald"the rainbow "round about the throne,"that is the same as, "thy faithfulness round about thee," "O Lord, who is like unto thee, or to thy faithfulness round about thee!" So that is what the emerald means;faithfulness. First, your faith, and mine; and then, the strength and repose of that other faithfulness, which is round us both; in whichwe will both walk, Hazel, shall we not?'

He could not tell what she was thinking of. Not of him, apparently, for the look on the face was far away, as if thought had followed his words quite out of sight; yet more to something past than towards other things to come. So leaning her head on her hand she sat, and thenstill full of her thoughtlooked up at him, the same child's look of intentness, with words all ready on her lips.

'Then in those days,' she began But then came the sudden recollection of whom she was speaking to, and what a stranger he was, and that he was not a stranger at all; with probably some quick realization of what she was going to say; for the scarlet flushed up all over her face again, and her head went down on her hand, and she was silent.

'What "in those days?"I want the rest of it.'

'O, the rest of it is more than you think,' said Hazel. 'And it is a great way off. I should have to take you miles and miles. And I would rathernot.'

He smiled at her, seeing the beautiful shyness that did not separate her from him, but only put such a bloom on the fruitsuch a fragrance in the flower. He was content. The freedom and fearlessness of older affection would come in time, and it would be pleasant to see it come. He would not hurry her; indeed, as he once had told her he never asked for what he could not have, so neither did he care for what was enforced in the giving. Better a free smile than a kiss bestowed to order. He saw now that she was hardly ready for many things he had it in his heart to say. He could wait. The readiness was there, only latent. He played with the hand and the ring while he was thinking these things.

But now all through the old house rang out the sweet bugle call; signal for luncheon. No bells, as has been remarked, were heard at Chickaree. Just a moment's hesitation came over the young mistress, with visions of Dingee and possibilities of Mr. Falkirk, and one glance at her ring. Then she turned to Mr. Rollo, giving her timid invitation as she rose up. 'You will come?' she said, and flitted off quick to lead the way, having no sort of mind to go in state. Rollo followed more slowly, smiling to himself.

'Do you often have company from the cottage at this time?' he inquired when he had again caught up with Wych Hazel in the dining room.

'Sometimesbut I gave Mr. Falkirk such a talk at breakfast that I shall hardly see him again before dinner. Dingee, where is the coffee? You know Mr. Rollo never touches chocolate.'

'Know dat_ sartain,' said Dingee; 'but Mas' Rollo come in so'

'Go fetch the coffee,' said Hazel, cutting him short.

Rollo remarked as he seated himself at the table, that he 'didn't feel as if he could stand Mr. Falkirk to-day.'

'He is very much the same as on most days,' said Hazel. 'I thought you always rather enjoyed "standing" him, Mr. Rollo?'

'It is becoming necessary for me to make so many statements,' said Rollo, 'that I am getting puzzled. I am very sorry for Mr. Falkirk. What sort of a talk did you give him?'

'Mr. Falkirk was so uncommonly glad to see me, that I should have been all sugar and cream if he had not beset me with business. As it was, I am afraid Iwasn't.'

'Not my business?'

'Your business? The mills?'

'Our business, then.'

'Hush!No! I have not got any,' said Hazel, whose spirits and daring were beginning to stir just a little bit once more, though she felt a little frightened at herself when the words were out. 'Mr. Falkirk wanted to know my sovereign pleasure about retaking the house we had last winter.'

'I am very sorry for Mr. Falkirk!' Rollo repeated gravely. 'Do you thinkby and by, when we have been married a year or two, and he is accustomed to it,we could get him to come and make home with us!'

Hazel looked at him for a second, as if he took her breath away; but then she looked at nothing elseor did not see it, which came to the same thing,for some time. Dingee appeared with baskets and bouquets, after the old fashion, which had grown to be an established one at Chickaree; and his mistress looked at them and ordered them away, and read the cards, and did not know what names she read. But in all the assortment of beauties there was never a rose one bit sweeter or fresher than the face that bent down over them.

CHAPTER VIII.

ACORNS AND ACORN-CUPS.

One afternoon, a day or two later, Rollo had begged for a walk in the woods; proposing that they should 'begin to get acquainted with each other.' The trees were beginning to shew crimson and gold and brown and purple, and the October light wove all hues into one regal drapery of nature, not richer than it was harmonious. The warm air was spicy; pines and hemlocks gave out resinous sweetness, and ferns and lichens and mosses and other wild things lent their wild wood flavour. It was rare in the Chickaree woods that day. Fallen leaves rustled under foot, squirrels chattered in the branches, partridges whirred away. Down through the shadow and the light they went, those two, talking irregularly of all sorts of things. Rollo was skilled in all wild wood lore and very fond of it. He could talk deliciously on this theme, and he did; telling Wych Hazel about trees and woodwork and hunter's sports and experiences, and then of lichens and the rocks they grew on.

Into the depths of the ravine they plunged, and then over a ridge into another; away from paths and roads and the possibility of wheels and riders. Then Rollo found a mossy dry bank where Wych Hazel might sit down and rest, with her back against the stem of a red oak. He roved about gathering acorns under the wide spreading boughs of the tree, and finally came and threw himself down at her feet.

'This is pleasant,' he said, looking along the brown slope, brown with mosses and fallen leaves, on which the wonderful light came so richly and so tenderly. 'This is pleasant! Is the sense of possession a strong one with you?'

'I love my woodsdearly! I never had much elsethat was my ownto care about.'

'I believe it is strong in me. I can enjoy other people's thingsbut I think I like them better when they are my own. I fancy it is a man's weakness.'

'What did you mean by "beginning to get acquainted?" ' said Hazel, from under the protecting shadow of her broad hat, and with her mind so full of unanswered questions that it seemed as if some of them must come out, even if they did get her into difficulties. 'I thought you thought you knew me pretty thoroughly.'

He rolled himself over on the bank, so that he could look up at her comfortably, and answered laughing,

'What did you think about me?'

'O I knew about you,' said Hazel.

'How long ago?'

'Different things at different times. Mr. Rollo,'with a little blush and hesitation,'will you tell me how you knew the size of my finger?'

'Let me look at it.' And he took the little hand, tried the ring up and down the finger, kissed it, and finally let it go.

'It fits' was all his remark.

If that is the way you are always ready to help me!Hazel thought. But as no such idea could venture out, and as the next question that stood ready was altogether too much "in line," a squirrel up in the tree had it all to himself for a few minutes. Rollo waited for the next question to come, but as it tarried he remarked quietly,

'You may remember, I had a glove of yours in my possession.'

'You. Where did you get it?'

'I picked it up. I have often done that for ladies' gloves;but I never kept one before.'

'You picked it up?' Hazel repeated slowly. 'I never lose my gloves. And you are not one of those silly people who steal them. Where did you pick it up, Mr. Rollo?'

A sort of shadow crossed his face, as he answered, 'One nightin the woodswhere it was a mere little point of light in the gloom.'

'O!' she said eagerly, looking up,'did you? that night? I remember. And you kept it. Then, Mr. Rollo?' The soft, surprised intonation of the last three words left them anything but incoherent.

'Well?' said he smiling.

'I wish I had known you had it. That glove gave me a great deal of trouble.'

'Why?'

'I was so much afraid it had got into the wrong hands. But when was this done?' she said, eyes and words going back to the ring again. 'Not sincethe other day?'

'Hardly! No. It was done last winter.' And Rollo's eyes flashed and laughed at her, a kind of soft lightning. Hazel laughed the least bit too, in return; but then her head went down as low as it gracefully could, and under the shadow of her broad hat she questioned. Had she betrayed herself then, to him? What has she said? what had she done, that night? Her face rested on her hand in the very attitude of perplexity.

'Come,' said Rollo, 'you are finding out a good deal about me that you did not know before. You had better go on.'

'Did you buy up the whole Hollow?' said Hazel abruptly. 'All the way from the mills up to Gyda'sMrs. Borresen'scottage?'

'No,' said Rollo, with a somewhat surprised recognition of the change of subjects; 'not yet. I have obtained possession only of the mills which were held by Morton himself. Those are the two cotton mills, and one of the woollen mills, which had lately reverted to him from the closing of the lease term and the inability of the former lessee to make any agreement for a new one. Further down the Hollow below me, lie the woollen mills of Paul Charteris.'

'And there is nothing above you yet, but the water and the land?'

'No. Nor like to be. The head of the valley is owned by Gov. Powder; and he has neither means nor inclination to do anything with it. It would be better for me to own it, though. Why, Hazel?'with a smile.

'Why had you better own it?'

'I want to get control of the whole Hollow as fast as I can; and then, I want to keep the control.'

'Well, but why don't you then?' said Hazel. 'What is the use of waiting?'

'I am not ready to build more mills yet. And there are other reasons, Hazel. Mr. Falkirk thinks I am jeopardizing my money. I do not think so, nor intend it. I believe in the long run I shall prosper. But for the present, and for awhile, I shall be at a disadvantage, it may be; because I am paying larger wages and receiving less profits than my neighbours, and I must keep capital free to bear me and my workmen out through the time of trialif it is to come. I mean never to have so much capital embarked in the mills, that I should have nothing to carry my hands and myself through a dead calm. You see' Rollo continued with again a smile,'being a careful navigator, I mean to carry the wind in my pocket.'

Hazel followed his words with attentive eyes as well as ears, and then went off into a brown study, with her chin on her hand.

'Well,' said Rollo, 'what is all this catechism for?'

'It is good practice,' she said, coming out of her abstraction with a laugh. 'I suppose you never knew before that there are two sides to a catechism?'

'Go on,' said Rollo. 'This is the beginning.'

'Beginningof what?'

'My catechism.'

'It is the end of it, for the present. But it seems to me, Mr. Rollo, that is, I know it seems to you that I am talking great nonsense,' said Hazel breaking off again. 'Do you live up at Mrs. Borresen's all the time?'

'For the most partexcept when I take a run down to my old home. But yes, I live at Gyda's.'

Unspoken questions came up in her eyes, but the words came not, and the eyes themselves went down to the crimson leaf she was thoughtfully drawing through her fingers. Rollo was silent too. Half sitting half lying on the leafy slope, he was busying himself with gathering together all the acorns and acorn-cups within his reach, examining them carefully one by one, and yet with a face that grew grave and became abstracted. More time passed than he knew probably, and Hazel had leisure to come out of her own abstractions and wonder at his. He did not look as if he remembered her presence; and yet a sensible woman has no objection to such indications in a man's face,even a man that loves her,as Hazel saw now; the grave purpose, the manly power, the thoughtful reserve. When at last he spoke and looked up, he was grave still.

'Have you any idea what you are to expect, Hazel?'

'Expect!'Then rather slowly, 'I believe I am not given to expectations.'

Then he smiled, but went on, 'Do you remember our talk that evening, last winter?'

'Of course.'

'Then you know in what service I have taken a commission?'

'I know.'

The quiet reserved voice seemed suddenly to lose its flexibility, and the crimson leaf came fluttering down from between her fingers.

'Are you content, Hazel? This fact will make my life more or less what people call singular.'

'But you were always called that,' she said without looking at him.

'Was I? It will be in another way now, Wych. How will you like it?'

'It? your life?very well, I suppose. If I like you,' she answered frankly, though in the same deliberate, abstracted way.

'But a soldier must obey orders, and has no choice. Are you content to go with me, upon such conditions?'

She turned upon him with eyes that seemed half inquiry, half surprise, her colour flitting back and forth in its vivid way. Then she rose suddenly to her feet, and setting her back against the tree and dropping her folded hands, stood looking down at him.

'Will you tell me exactly what you mean?' she said.

He rose too and stood beside her.

'It would never do for me to go one way, and my wife another.'

From under the shield of her drooping hat Hazel answered. 'Suppose you have to meet that difficulty? Suppose I should say I am not content?'

'I will tell you, when you have said it.'

'No,' she said,'before. I am not content with anything till you do.'

'I should know in that case I had something to do, Hazel.'

'That is waiving the question.'

'No, for that something would beto make you willing.'

She unclasped her hands, putting behind her round the tree.

'How, Mr. Rollo?'

'I suppose'demurely'I should use my influence.'

'Twenty questions!' said Hazel. 'If I were not content, it would show that you had not much influence to use.'

'Are you content, Hazel?'

'How are you going to be singular?' she said abruptly.

'It's my turn'said he smiling, 'Hazel, are you content?'

'But you always ask suchunreasoningquestions.'

'Give me a reasonable answer."

'I am never anything but reasonable,' she said; 'it is you. You want to know if I am content to have you true to yourself,that is about the point, is it not? I think, on the whole, I am.'

'Will you help me?'

'So far as I can. But remember, that may not be very far.'

'I want your help a dozen ways at this moment.'

'Would you like to specify just a few?'

'You will see, as soon as you begin to get the run of what I am doing. I want counselI want coperation. I want you to set me upon some of the woman's work that a man does not readily find out for himself. I am going to take you off to the Hollow as soon as you are quite strong enough.'

'I should think you would prefer to have me set myself upon the "woman's work," ' said Wych Hazel.

He smiled provokingly and observed that there was enough for her and him too.

'Well' said Hazel, with a certain postponement in her voice.

'Well, what?'

'There is no "what" in sight at present, Mr. Rollo.'

'I shall have to give you lessons severely! Look at that acorn. Don't you like acorns?'

'Very much. But best, I think, in the spring, when they are struggling into life,shooting up and shooting down,shewing their possibilities. They are lovely then, with their little crumpled pink leaves.'

'That's the next stage. I want to make my life like that acorn as it is now, full rounded to its utmost fruitage. So many lives are like these empty cups,with the fruit lost.'

Hazel balanced one of the cups on the tip of her finger, thoughtfully. 'I suppose they are,' she said. 'Good for nothing but to look at.'

'Do you think such lives good to look at?'

'Sometimes pretty to look at. Just as this cup is, till you remember that it is empty.'

'Hazel, did you study the lesson I gave you last winter?'

'I have studied it. Yes.'

'And the result? '

Looking down at the olive moss tufts at her feet, she answered, slowly,

'I am notquitesure.'

'You can talk just as well if you are resting,' said Rollo; and he pulled her down to her place again, and threw himself on the bank beside her. 'Now go on,' he said, 'and tell me all about it.'

But "all about it" was a great deal. As the fireside musings, the long night watches, the fears and questionings and perplexities came up one by one and flung their shadows over her face, Hazel answered,

'No, I cannot do that.'

'I am the very person to help your perplexities.'

'But that is assuming you know what they are!'

'Never mind. You will find it is rue. What makes the confusion, Wych?'

The voice was a temptation; manly and clear, and thrilled through with a hidden tenderness in the last words. Rollo was not studying her face, but piling up his acorns on the ground between them.

'Everything helped make it.'

'Yes. Well?'

'It was not "well" at all,' said Hazel. 'I do not like tangles. And this was unmitigated. I could not pull out one single smooth thread, and present it for your inspection, Mr. Rollo.'

'Unpractical,' said Rollo. 'Make some statement of what you do know.'

'Statements are not precisely in my line,' said Hazel. 'And I am not the least in the habit of telling all I know.'

'Hitherto.'

Hazel did not immediately answer. She sat watching the heap of acorns and the hand that was arranging them, a quiet smile upon her lips. What had she said to Josephine about "diamonds from a hand that you do not love"?whereas even acorns, from a hand that

With a sudden scarlet flush she turned away, and bending down on the other side, began to gather mosses on her own account.

'Come, Hazel,' said her companion'the tangle has got to be encountered, and I think we shall go into it most safely together.'

'I could not tell you,' she said, 'and you could not tell me. Nobody but oneself can disentangle "why" and "whether" and "what".'

Rollo cast a quick glance up at her, which probably brought him all the intelligence he wanted; for he only remarked audaciously that she 'would know better some day.'

'I could not make you understand, Mr. Rollo. And unless you understood, you would just think there could not be room in my head for a single spark of sense.'

'You don't know what I think of your head. Wellif you see a little shoot of confidence in me starting up in your mind, encourage it, Hazel!'

'I shall never see it, Mr. Rollo.'

'Nor encourage it, of course. WellI am in a bad way.'

'Things pass the acorn stage, you know,' she said, laughing a little.

'Yes. Do you remember my having once had the honour to remark to you, that I objected to be treated as an old guardian?'

'No,' said Hazel,'you asked me if I expected to do it. But perhaps that meant the same thing in those days.'

'Perhaps it did. What do you think of it in these days?'

Hazel made a sudden transition.

'Will you like to come and go chestnutting in these woods, Mr. Rollo? The Powders all say that I promised them such a day, though I am sure I do not remember it.'

'I don't remember it,' said Rollo lazily.

'As you were not here when I am said to have made the promise, I do not see how you should. But it is needful I should ask you, or Mr. Falkirk will askas he did once before upon you non- appearanceif you have offended me.'

'Is the day fixed?'

'No. But they say I have promised.'

'Then there's no help for it, I know. Hazelwhen you and I had a ride home in the dark one night, a year ago, did I misunderstand you then?'

Silence, instant and deep. Hazel took some time to frame her answer.

'What did you understand?'

The supreme flash of Rollo's eyes was instantly hidden by the lowered eyelids; and there was no laughter even in his voice as he answered,

'We understand each other now.'

They took their way home again through the glowing woodland and warm, still air, slowly and lingeringly. Near the house, Dane asked when Wych Hazel would go to the Hollow?

'The first day I can. Perhaps I had better wait one day more.'

'To-day is Friday. Yes, and I cannot be here to-morrow, either.'

'It is one of your busy days?'

'One of my busy days, and nights. It is my Exhibition evening. I cannot come here Sunday, either, Hazel. Monday you will be fit for a ride; and we will lunch with Gyda.'

'I was invited to go to the Reading Saturday night!' said Hazel with a half laugh, 'and I refused.'

'You had better. Don't you come, to complicate matters.'

'What should I complicate!I am the most straightforward person going.'

'I am getting too much distinguished society. But I want to talk to you about that institution, Hazel. I have a great deal to talk to you about. It is very singular that you have nothing to say to me.'

Arrived at the house, Dane lingered awhile in the red room, surveying its pretty tokens of pretty life, where among other things the two little Catskill sketches in dainty wooden frames hung upon the walls; but he refused an invitation to stay and dine with Mr. Falkirk.

'I cannot. Wych, I must get to the Hollow before the mills are closed.'

She gave him a grave, wistful look, but said nothing.

'I shall open a shorter cut, across fields, between here and the Hollow. It might save four or five miles. Gov. Powder owns some of the ground, the Kingslands, and I think one or two more, have the rest. I can easily manage it. Twelve miles is too far between you and me,' he added smiling.

'Yes.'

He stood looking at her; perhaps considering what the proper distance would be, or rather not be; and also probably thinking that it was too soon to trouble her with that question, for he presently came forward silently to bid her good-bye, and was off.

Miss Wych was still for a few minutes, till the last hoof-beat had died away, and then began slowly to mount the stairs. And as the tired little feet went on, one step at a time, of a sudden she burst forth into one of her scraps of songthe first time for many a long day. Apparently her talk with Josephine the other day, was still running in her head, for these were the words that came:

"His very tread has music in't,

"As he comes up the stair."

'I wonder what sort of stair-carpets they have in that part of Scotland!' she said to herself. And then suddenly realizing how very full-fledged her thoughts had become, Hazel blushed furiously, all alone as she was, and rushed up the remaining stairs so fast, that there was nothing for it but to drop into the nearest chair and take a lecture from Mrs. Bywank, before she was able to get ready for Mr. Falkirk and dinner.

The most remarkable thing about Miss Kennedy's dress lately, was that her fingers were so loaded with rings that the very glare would have hindered Mr. Falkirk's distinguishing any particular splendour.

CHAPTER IX.

ROLLO'S EXPERIMENT.

When people are just in the position, newly assumed, of these two, sixty hours of absence, it will be allowed, is a long time; and between Friday evening and Monday morning Dane could not make it shorter. Therefore nobody will be surprised that he made his appearance Monday morning in the breakfast room.

'You are early,' said Mr. Falkirk with an accent of some surprise, as he dropped his napkin and rose to take his guest's hand. Rollo picked up the napkin.

'It was necessary, if I meant to catch you at breakfast.'

'Wouldn't after breakfast do?'

'Well, no. I wanted a cup of coffee; and though no doubt my friend Mrs. Bywank would have supplied me later, I should have had to take it alone.'

'That is a very sensible way to get one's morning coffee,' returned the growler.

'You do not seem to act upon your principles.'

'I have a charge on my mind, you see. My coffee, if Gotham gave it to me, would always he flavoured with something worse than grounds. So I come here to get it clear. Have you brought business?'

'Not for you, sir, to-day.'

'Enough of your own in the Hollow by this time, haven't you?'

'Not so much but that I mean to have more.'

'More business?'

'If I can.'Then he asked Hazel how she did?

Hazel recollected in time that it would not be true to say that she felt "more like herself" to-day, and changed that form of reply into a demure 'Pretty well, I think.'

'Pretty well, I think,' Mr. Falkirk echoed. 'Nobody but one who has tried it can tell what it is to have the care of a witch. I have been trying for a week, Rollo, to discover when we are to go to town, and whether I am expected to secure a house; and it is past my power to find out, the one or the other.'

'You do not like Chickaree?' Rollo inquired with matter-of-fact composure.

'She don't, in winter.' It is to be remarked, that the elder guardian, completely thrown off his suspicions by the course of the past winter and summer, supposed himself indulging in safe pleasantries with the only one almost with whom he could venture them.

'My dear Mr. Falkirk!how can you say I dislike what I have never tried!' said Miss Wych.

'Can you inform me distinctly, Miss Hazel, whether you wish to try it?'

'Distinct information rather comes in the way of those vague desires which are supposed to beset me, sir.'

'I beg your pardon, Miss Hazel; I never supposed any such thing.'

'Well, sirI do not see why October need worry itself about December.'

'I do not see why it should,' chimed in Rollo lazily.

'Does it not, down in your Hollow?'

'Not at all.'

'What more work are you wishing for there?'

'I am thinkingby and byof building another mill.'

'Another mill!'Mr. Falkirk's surprise was evidently more than it was polite to shew.'You have not ground room, have you?'

'Not a present. I hope to be able to secure it. There is room, in the valley.'

'Then you expect your ventures to succeed?'

'Or I should not think of enlarging them.'

'But Charteris and others are underselling you now.'

'Yes.'

'And they will.'

'While they are able.'

'And what under heaven is the use and purpose of it all?' exclaimed Mr. Falkirk testily. 'I beg your pardonI know I am not your guardianbut what are you aiming to do?'

'Not to ruin myself. To do that would spoil my plan. There are several thousand people living in that Hollow, Mr. Falkirk.'

'I suppose so.'

'Do you know how they are living?'

'No. What business is it of mine?'

'Miss Kennedy is going this morning to see what business it is of mine.'

Mr. Falkirk pushed himself away from the table and presently left the room. The others mounted without delay and set off.

'When have you been on Jeannie before?' Rollo asked, when they had got quit of the Chickaree woods and were indulging in a good trot along the level country road.

'Not since the end of last November,the day before I went to town.'

'My little Wych!' said Rollo, riding close up alongside,'what sort of a year has this been?'

'Very mixed up. Part of the winter was pleasant.'

'The summer?'

'I suppose that was pleasant tooonly I did not enjoy it.'

'Why didn't you come home?'

'The old story,' she said laughing and colouring,'I did not want to come. Mr. Falkirk thinks I never have any other reason to give.'

'Might be a very good reason to give Mr. Falkirk. Now, do you know what you are going to look at?'

'Mill people and mill work.'

'In detail; but in general you are going to see what my friend Mrs. Powder calls "my experiment." A problem of life-work, if you will; the question being, what can be done with fifteen hundred human beings accustomed only to poverty and hard work, to bring them to their nearest attainment of happy and useful living.'

'Fifteen hundred unhappy people!'Hazel repeated. 'I should think everybody would be trying experiments.'

'You rode through the place once. You remember how they looked. Tell me what you would have tried first?'

'I remember. But I hardly knew what it meant, then.' There was a little emphasis upon the last word.

'Go on, and say what would occur to you to do.'

'Ah, you will only laugh and call me unpractical,' said Hazel smiling; 'but the first thing I should do, Mr. Rollo, would be to beautify the places where they live. I believe it does people good to bejust a littlesmothered in roses.'

'I believe in roses; but they were not the first thing I set about. For two reasons; they take time, and also they have to be in a certain degree prepared for. The old dwellings could not be beautified; I had to build new ones; but also, Hazel, and this is a more important thing, the desire for something better than the people knew, had to be excited. Roses are not a substitute for bread,to the uncultured mind,' he added smiling; 'and men that are ground in the dust of poverty need first of all to get ambition enough to raise their heads and wash their faces. The very first thing I did, was to make the pay sufficient for decent living. That gave them from the beginning some confidence in me, too.'

'Yes, of course. O that, I knew, you had done. I heard of it last winter.'

'Then in that connection there is another thing. I am beginning now to make the pay as far as it is possible follow the work done, instead of the time. I had to wait a good while before attempting this, because I could trust nobody to tell me or advise me, and before I could be competent to form my own judgment in the matter I had a great deal of study to do. And practice,' he added smiling. 'As far as practicable, I will have the pay dependent on the quantity and quality of the work. This stimulates effort and ministers to the sense of character, and also obviates several troublesome questions which are apt to come up between employers and employed. The people are not enlightened enough to like any change which they do not immediately feel for the better; but they will come into it, for they must; and then they will like it.'

Hazel looked amused. 'Is not that last clause an addition to the old code?' she said. 'The first two sound natural.'

Rollo smiled a little, but vouchsafed no further notice. 'Now,' he went on, 'to pursue your plan, I am building new cottages; and I shall leave the rose-planting to you.'

'In-doors and out.Do you know, Mr. Rollo, I should think you had done the very best possible preparatory work by getting it into the peoples' heads that somebody cared whether they had roses, or clean faces, or anything else. And there I can speak from experience.'

'What sort of experience?'

'Because I never had anybody to care,' said Hazel. 'So I know how it feels.'

'Never had anybody to carewhat?' said Dane, riding close up alongside and looking earnestly for the answer.

'What I did, or how I dressed, or what became of me generally,' said Hazel. 'O I suppose Mr. Falkirk cared, but he never shewed it in any way to do me a bit of good. There was no one I could please, and no one I could displease; and so while people thought I had everything, I used to feel all alone, and thought I had nothing.'

Rollo was silent and grave.

'I knewvery soonthat you cared,' she said, with the pretty soft fall of eyes and voice. 'I mean, cared for my sake.'

'Very soon?' said Rollo. 'How soon, you Wych?'

'Other people were thinking of what I was, and you of what you thought I ought to be; and it was very easy to feel the difference.'

'When?' said Rollo, scarce controlling a smile, 'When did you see it first, I mean?'

'I think you began to criticise me, almost as soon as I got here.'

'And then, Hazel, how long was it before you began to forgive me?'

'O there was no forgiveness in question,' she said, passing his words with a blush. 'The criticising shewed a little bit of real interest. And that is what I had been as hungry for, as your mill people for more tangible things. But I did not mean that I thoughtI did not think about it at all. Not much.'

'Not allnot much,' said Rollo. 'No. Only a little. I understand. And what should I have got for my pains, if I had pressed the final question a year ago?'

'I did not think a little,' said Hazel, looking flushed and downcast,'only when you made me. And when people talked.'

Rollo enjoyed the sight a minute or two, and then proposed a run. He kept it a very gentle run, however, and when they came to a talking pace again resumed the subject of the mills.

'How much have you thought about it?' he asked. 'What next would you propose?'

'Does your increase of wages let the children stay at home when they are sick? and the little ones when they are well?'

'I admit no children under twelve nor employ any families that send their little children to other mills. That was one of the first steps I took; to settle that. The other thing is somewhat less easy to manage. I cannot make a rule. There would be endless shamming. The only way is to keep a careful supervision myself, and send home any child manifestly unfit for work. In such a case I keep on the wages for one week; at the end of that time the child comes, or doesn't come. If the latter, I know something is very much amiss, and look after the case accordingly. And this matter, as yet, I can trust to nobody but myself.'

'You can trust me,' said Hazel. 'In such matters women's eyes are surer than men's.'

'At twelve miles distance?' said he smiling.

'You are going to open a short cut. And even twelve miles, upon Jeannie, is not much.'

Rollo rode a few yards in silence.

'She is your property, of course you know?'

'Thank you, Mr. Rollo!' Hazel said softly. She was smoothing out some locks of Jeannie's mane, which the wind and the run had tossed out of place.

'Take care!' said her companion. 'I shall not take thanks from you in that shape. Here is the Hollow. I am glad Charteris is at this end.'

The banks of the dell had risen up about them and the mill buildings began to appear. Paul Charteris' woollen mills came first, brown and dismal as such things are apt to look, surrounded with their straggling settlement of poor cottages. It was a glorious October day; fair over-head and glowing over all the earth; if atmosphere and colouring could have put a blessing upon misery the houses of Mill Hollow would have owned the blessing. But the clear golden light shewed the bare walls, the barren ground, the dingy, forlorn hopelessness of everything, in the full blank nakedness of the facts.

Slowly the riders walked their horses now, looking at it all. Slowly passed one mill after another with its straggling tenements for toil and discontent. Getting beyond these, and higher up the valley, new signs began to appear. Mills are mills indeed, and own no kindred with beauty. But along the slopes of the Hollow, behind and between the mill buildings, were tokens of life. Numbers of new cottages were risen, and rising, on the upper slopes of the banks, the new village even flowing over the crest of the hill upon the level land above. Most were of gray stone; some were frame houses painted white; each one that was finished having a space of ground enclosed within a little paling fence. You could see indications of change everywhere. Here some of the old huts were taking down, leaving room for new erections; there, certain old rubbish heaps had disappeared; the people they met seemed to wear a different air and to step more alertly. Further up the valley and close upon the roadway Hazel could see a building going up which was clearly no mill cottage; it was much too large. The cottages indeed were of different sizes, to suit different families and different tastes; this however was another affair. Low stone walls of considerably extent were getting a roof put on; the windows were large and many; yet it had hardly the look of a church. Builders and teamsters were at work over all this part of the valley.

The bright eyes had been very intent, the tokens of excitement in either cheek growing deeper and more defined; clearly, for Wych Hazel, Morton Hollow had changed names. But absorbed in her scrutiny she had given neither word nor look to anything but the Hollow.

Now she suddenly turned to her companion.

'What is that for?' she said. 'A church?'

'Not exactly. But given better wages and houses to live inwhat is the next step you would take in dealing with a very ignorant community, whom you wished to raise to a higher level?'

'Teach them, I suppose. Then is that your reading-room, Mr. Rollo?'

'HithertoI will shew you where I read,' he said, suddenly breaking off. And dismounting, he came to Wych Hazel and took her down, ordering the horses forward to the bend. They went then to the door of one of the mills near at hand and Rollo whistled. The door opening, they were admitted to a great, long, low room, at the back of which bales were stowed from floor to ceiling. A large space was more or less filled with bales standing about; evidently on the move, either to be hoisted away for use or stowed up like the rest for keeping.

'Here is my place,' said Rollo. 'When Saturday night comes, all is made snug as the deck of a frigate; this part of the floor is cleared and supplied with benches; I have lamps hung from the rafters, and yonder I stand on a cotton bale. Do you know what I do it for? not mount a cotton bale, I mean, but what for I have gone into the whole thing?'

'I suppose I know,' said Hazel. 'To identify yourself, in a sort, with the people, and to give them good amusements, and to entice them on.'

'All that. And to keep them out of the gin shops. Saturday night is pay time. With his pockets full of money, what can a poor rascal do but ruin himself with beer, if he knows nothing better? I am following an English example in the endeavour to save them. I provide coffee and buns, at cost prices; and then I manage to give them entertainment, with a spice of instruction, till too late in the night to allow of any foolery at the other places. I think I am succeeding pretty well; the popularity of my readings has been steadily on the increase. By and by I am going to vary the programme with microscopic and other exhibitions,as soon as the people are ready for it, and I am ready.'

Miss Wych walked over to a prostrate cotton bale, and mounting upon it took a general survey of the room, ending with its owner and a flash of fun.

'Now,' she said, 'I am you, and you are the audience. Would they come to a regular night-school, do you think? And whereabouts in the Hollow do you intend to place a cotton bale for me?'

'What will you do from it?'

'Something so different from what you do, that unless we run on different evenings, one of us will draw empty houses,' said Hazel, softly stepping along the cotton-bale from end to end. 'Where does Miss Powder sit?'this with a sudden pause at one end of the bale.

'Where she will never sit again,' said Rollo. 'She was here Saturday night with a party. I had wind of it before, and notified my people that it would be a German night. So it was.'

Hazel laughed. 'And she went home to study German!Very dangerous conduct, Mr. Rollo! Suppose I had come with the party?'

Rollo was here interrupted by a question of business. When it was despatched, he came up to Wych Hazel's perch and jumped her down.

'You must come away,' he said; 'it's too cold here for you. What is in your mind, Hazel? What will you do, if I give you a bale? and where will you have it? Go on, and tell me what is in your head?'

The wistful look came back again, humble and sweet. Clearly, however well Hazel thought of her power to take care of herself, she was less sure about taking care of other people. 'I doubt if I am fit for any such elevation yet,' she said. 'But I suppose there are some things I could teach the children. And I might be a Visiting Committeeto go about in the houses and find out the women's wants and troubles, and clear some of them away. I know at least how people ought not to live.'

'You can do that,' said Rollo; 'and that is just what you will do admirably. Did you think I was going to set you to teach school?'

'Are you quite sure you are not?' said she, laughing up at him. 'I could, Mr. Rollo,if I might learn first.'

'You could not teach these creatures. But you see another use for my nondescript building over there. Shall we go and look at it.'

The short walk was enlivened for Hazel by the encounters that met them. Every child gave a full smile, and every man a salutation with good will in it. On the other side the master had a word for every one, gracious as well as discriminating. It was evident that he knew them all, and their ways and their needs.

The schoolhouse, if it were that, was found to be rather a spacious erection. The main apartment was lofty, large and light; the fittings were not in yet. On each side a narrower and lower room or hall ran the whole length of the central one which was lighted from a clerestory. The workmen were putting in window-frames and hanging doors, and finishing the roofing. All the halls communicated.

'This is for the children by day, and for the night-schools and my entertainments in the evening. The hall to the west is for a coffee room. My coffee and buns are popular.'

'Where do you get them? From the top of the hill?'

Rollo shook his head. 'No, that would not do. I arranged an old office for a bakery, found my people, and got Gyda to teach them. So several of the women in the Hollow turn a penny that way; and then the bread is sold to the men at cost prices. Coffee the same. And Saturday nights the throng is in earnest. Then they come to me in good humour.'

'Well, do many of the older women work in the mills?'

'They all work that can,' said Rollo gravely.

'But Mr. Rollo!then I will tell you another thing you want; and that is a room and a keeper for the little children. Don't you know?' she said, facing round in her eagerness,'such a place as I have read of in France, I think, where the women who go out to work leave their children all day; so that they cannot burn themselves up, nor fret themselves to death, nor do anything but play and be happy.'

Dane looked at her with a smile.

'I told you I wanted your help,' he said. 'That is something I have not thought of.'

'I am glad!'She could not say another word, for sheer pleasure, and those were as quiet as three mice.

'I am but making a beginning as yet, Hazel,' Dane went on. 'The first obvious things it is easy to get hold of. This for one: every child shall go half the day to school. I will not have them on any other understanding. There are few adult scholars at present; their number will grow. What shall I do with the hall on the north side of the school-room?'

'The people work from morning to night, every day?'

'From seven to seven. But come, you must not stand here any longer looking at carpenters. Come on to Gyda's. I want you to see one or two cottages on the way.'

Empty dwellings. One was a little frame house; the other was quite a pretty, low, gray stone cottage. Neatly finished, provided with snug little kitchens and small sheds adjoining for wood; the paling fence, unpainted yet, enclosing a bare space that might one day be a garden.

'Here will be work for you, Hazel, you see. All these garden plots must have something in them; and as soon as may be I want to see roses and vines creeping over these walls. But we must go slowly. You and I cannot do it. The only way for permanent results, is to rouse the desire, excite the ambition, and then supply the means. Outside the gardens I mean to plant trees, of hardy shade kinds; but I have not got so far as that yet.'

'I think you have done a great deal,' said Hazel. 'No wonder you were too busyHow do you expect to rouse the desire, Mr. Rollo? By a specimen cottage?or by tea-drinkings at Chickaree?'

He smiled and said 'they were far from that yet.' 'But desires grow,' he added, 'and one thing leads to another. Now come away.'

CHAPTER X.

ROLLO'S COMPANY.

Gyda was expecting them, and certainly looked glad enough in her quiet way. She took Wych Hazel off into an inner room, a little bit of a clean, coarse furnished place, to remove her hat and refresh herself. When she came out, Rollo was busy making one of the great settle chairs into a resting place for her, with cushions and shawl as once before. He put her in it and sat down beside her.

'You have helped me to-day, Hazel. True help. But you know what was said of some of the early Christians"they first gave their own selves to the Lord"so I want you to do. You will not be the less, but the more, mine.'

She did not answer a word, only by the drooping head and the curious pale alternations of coloursure tokens with her of excited feeling. That thought had so run through the morning! had so half spoiled it for her at times.

'Not a word?' said he softly.

'If one word would do itBut it would take many.'

'Many words? to do what?' he asked in the soft musical tone that in itself was a caress.

'To tell why I cannot answer,why I cannot promiseto be all you wish.'

'Lay your head down and rest,' said he; 'and don't promise, but do it. Are you tired?'

He left her and went to help Gyda in serving her luncheon. This was rather a more enjoyable meal than the last one, when nobody could eat. There was happiness in every line of Gyda's shoulders, and in every movement she made between the fire and the table; and Dane was at home and at play. He was changed since a year before. The always bright, gay, masterful face was full now of a deeper purpose and a more centred energy; but the eye was as quick and as flashing as ever. And Wych Hazel, not as mistress in her own house but as guest in another's, was waited uponhow shall I say?as such men can do it. And that is rather a rare kind of petting.

A week? was it only a week ago? Hazel wondered. Those three days of prostration had seemed to put whole continents of time between her and the wild walk across the hill-top; though the traces of that day, and of the weeks that went before, were still visible enough. Not strong yet, to withstand and manage the incoming tide of new thoughts and prospects and responsibilities, she took all the petting and pleasure and care with the most gravely girlish face imaginable. Watching her two companions, listening to them, and giving them now and then a bright blush or smile out of the midst of her thoughts, yet all the time conscious of the thoughts as well.

No, she has not quite all he could wish; not all that he ought to have. She knew that; she had known it ever since last winter; and whatever love and devotion could do, let the supply be never so unlimited, they could not do all. There would be ground he would occupy, where she could not stand by his side; there would be work he would do, which she was not fit to share. Would be? there was now. This coming in among his labours and plans had brought it home to her keenly. All the same, she could take no new stand just to please him; it would not be true, she could not keep up to it, could not act it out. Was she ready, for other reasons, to take such a stand? The old tangle of perplexed questions seemed closing her in again; and now and then, between whiles, when Rollo was looking away, the brown eyes studied him; as if studying his face would magnetize her out of her difficulties,the one person in all the world who belonged to her, and to whom she belonged. But it was intensely like Wych Hazel, that the more she realized this, the more she hung back from following in the steps of his Christian life merely because they were his. They should be true for her, or she would not take them at all.

The talk at the table ran a good deal upon matters and things in the Hollow. Gyda knew the ins and outs of many a house there; she could illustrate and prove the truth of some of Rollo's statements, and she could suggest wants, even if she did not know to contrive the remedy.

'There's something you haven't thought of yet, Olaf,' she observed. 'They are just heathens and savages down there.'

'What makes you think I have not thought of it?'

'Well, you haven't begun to plan for it.'

'How can you venture to say that?'

'I haven't heard you say a word.'

'Do you think, Hazel, that proves anything?'

'It would not with me,' she said. 'But Mrs. Borresen should know you.'

'She should,' said Rollo. 'It appears she don't.'

'You talk of a great many other things,' said the old woman smiling. 'I've been waiting to hear when that would come up. What are you going to do, lad?'

'Gyda is quite right,' said Dane turning again to Wych Hazel. 'They are little better than heathen, and do not know much more. You remember our first visit here? A party of the children had made a plan to throw stones at our horses as we passed through the Hollow on our return. There is no danger of that now. But what would you do with such a community?'

'I could not do much,' said the girl gravely. 'I suppose, if I were youYou should ask people who know what they are talking about, Mr. Rollo. Not me.'

'But I ask you. What occurs to you, as a good first step?'

'It did not "occur" to me,' said Hazel,'you made me think of it. I suppose, thenif I knew what you know, Mr. Rollo; if I felt as you feel; I should want to tell them that, first of all. I should set them the lesson you set me,' she added, her voice changing a little. 'Andvery much as you set it for me.' A swift deprecating glance begged him not to think that she was either criticising his work, or assuming that she knew what it was; or in general, that she knew anything about anything!

'And when and where would you do this?' said Dane, his manner quite grave and quiet, his powerful eyes nevertheless absorbing every indication of the changes in hers.

'I should think they would come any time when you wanted them,' she said, making revelations in her unconscious way.'Sundays, I suppose they would have most time. And Sundays, too, they would be a little more dressed up and ready for the best things you could tell them.'The words came simply, but very soberly, as if she remembered all the while that in such plans she had nothing to do.

'Well,' said Dane, 'our thoughts lie sufficiently near together. That is just what I have proposed to do, Wych.'

'Yes. I knew you would.'

'Do you think,' said he slowly, as he was helping her to something, 'do you think one ought to wait for anything but an opportunity before telling good news to people whom it concerns?'

'But I did not think you had waited.'

'No,' said Rollo gravely. 'I started a general proposition.'

'Opportunity is only the sand-paper,' said Hazel in her quick way. 'Of no earthly use without a match.'

Rollo's eye danced; nevertheless he answered as demurely as possible'What do you consider a match?'

'Hidden fire. The complement of the opportunity,waiting for it,ready for it. I suppose I meant that' she said, retreating into herself again.

'I suppose you did,' said Rollo smiling, 'for it is a sharp truth. But Hazel, there is also hidden fire in the good news we carry; and if we cannot make it catch, perhaps God will. Suppose you have nothing to give but the naked truth in your naked handwon't you take it to the people whose lives it may light up for ever?'

She did not answer him, thinking of the timenot now long pastwhen her own life had been like midnight. Hazel pushed away her plate, and folding her hands in her lap, sat looking down at them, or at her ring, or possibly seeing neither.

'Olaf,' said Gyda suddenly coming back from the outer door to which she had been summoned, 'somebody is a wanting you down yonder. There's always somebody wanting him now, my lady.'

'Who is it, this time?'

'Hans Heinrichhe has got hurt in some o' the wheels and things.'

'He is not one of my hands.'

'He is not; but he wants you, my lad, for all that. He's hurt bad; and there's no one to tell 'em what to do; and Lina Heinrich, she sends word to you to come for Christ's sake.'

Dane hesitated but a moment and turned to Wych Hazel.

'Can you wait for me?'

'O yes,I wish I could help.'

'You had better lie down and take a sleep. Look after her, Gyda.' And he went off, losing no time.

Gyda had been clearing her table, and as soon as everything was in order she took a chair and sat down opposite Wych Hazel.

'What do they want him for so often, Mrs. Borresen?'

'Help, my lady. O there's sore need of it, certainly. But these are not his own people; nevertheless there is no help but his for them.'

Hazel mused over the words, her own eyes going off to the fire now. She understood it all well enough,felt from the depths of her heart what delight it would be to help him, ever so little. And what could he think of her, that she was not more ready? Ah, if he only knew all the history of this year! all the questions and sorrows and perplexities she had been through!And it was just what she could not tell him, and just what he could never guess. So she gazed at the twinkling fire, shewing brighter and brighter as the afternoon began to die away; until at last, with her head somehow nestled against shawl and cushions in the extemporised easy chair, one sort of weariness claiming the right of way, Wych Hazel went fast asleep; and Gyda might study the fair young face at her leisure. Gyda's own face looked happy the while; and noiselessly she made up the fire, and softly her old lips whispered prayers oftentimes as she moved hither and thither.

The afternoon was waning, though evening had not yet set in, when the door opened gently and Primrose Maryland appeared. Gyda's finger at her lips stayed all but softly uttered words, till Primrose came up to the fire and looked at the sleeper in the cushioned chair.

Prim looked, and looked away. Her movement first was to go to the table and take off her bonnet and lay down her shawl and right herself a little. Yet Prim was nothing of a coquette, not the least in the world, and never thought about her dress but to have it respectable. Neither did she think about it now; for there was no glass in the room, and the movement with which she pushed the hair further back from her brow assuredly had no origin in regard to appearances. However she came back after that and looked at Hazel more steadily, and then sat down by Mrs. Borresen to talk in a soft undertone which could disturb nobody. The two girls had scarcely seen each other since the fall before, except in the most casual manner at church or in some chance meeting. Hazel had had good reasons for keeping herself out of the way, and when they met had wrapped herself in a triple veil of defences; so that it was rather a revelation to see her as she looked now. A tired child asleep, instead of the energetic lady of Chickaree. Her three days' slumber had but partially done their work, and Hazel slept on now in the profoundest way; her face and hands in rather noticeable acceptance of the gray shawl, considering whose it was. Prim looked, and looked, from time to time in the intervals of talking, until the talking seemed to die away; and she sat drawn back into herself. The light was failing now. Gyda mended her fire again, and the heavy iron tongs slipped from her hands and fell with a harsh clang upon the hearth. Wych Hazel awoke.

The greeting then was very affectionate.

'Wherever in the world did you come from?' said Hazel. 'Does it take two people to keep watch of me?'

'I came here to be out of the way,' said Prim. 'Dane wanted Arthur, or at least the hurt man wanted him. What in the world are you here for, Hazel?'

'O I have been inspecting the mills,' said Hazel with a laugh; 'and of course after such profound work I was tired. But I did not mean to go to sleep. Has everybody else gone home?it is dinner time this minute.'

'Nobody has gone home,' said Primrose; 'and they cannot help about it's being dinner time, you know. Were you ever here before?in this house, I mean.'

'YesO,' said Hazel with sudden recollection, 'has it taken all this time to attend to that man?'

'Arthur is there.'

'Is he?that is good. But all this time!'with a shiver. 'I do not see how I could sleep!'She stood looking grave, as if rather disappointed in herself.

'Yes,' Primrose went on, 'Arthur and I were driving through the Hollow, just to see the things; and Dane laid hold of Arthur and sent me up here. He didn't tell me I should find you.' Primrose paused, as her eye fell on Hazel's cushioned and draperied chair. 'You have changed your mind about Dane, haven't you Hazel?' she asked abruptly. Hazel faced round upon her in undoubted surprise.

'Changed my mind!' she repeated, flushing all up,'what was my mind?'

'You rememberlast year.'

'What about last year?'

'Why you remember, Hazel. You did not like him at all, and used to get out of all patience with him.'

'Of course I did. There is no particular call to get out of patience just now. And even I generally wait for a reason.'

'Have you made up your mind you will never get out of patience again?' Prim asked, with a keen look to the answer.

'No.'

Prim's eye fell on the cushions and the gray shawl again.

'You aren't going to vex him, Hazel, are you?'

'Why Prim!'Hazel took hold of her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake, though with a queer mixture of softness and sharpness,'do I look like the good little girl in storybooks, that you put me through such a catechism?'

'No; but I find you up here,'and again Prim's eye went to the gray shawl and came back to her friend's face.

'I am not specially responsible for that. The thing just now is how to get away. Mr. Falkirk will be out of his wits.'

Prim was uncertain and dissatisfied, and sat back. A moment after came the steps of the two gentlemen at the door. As they entered, Dane with a smile and a gesture of salutation, went through the room to speak to Gyda in some of her offices. Dr. Maryland remained.

'Shall we go home now, Arthur?' said Prim, rising, when he had exchanged greetings with Miss Kennedy. Hazel was a little shy of him; somehow she half fancied that his quick eye had read her secret.

'Not possible, my dear. Rollo and I must be here all night, on duty. And it is quite too dark for you to go alone.'

'That poor man?' said Primrose.'Does he want you still? you and Dane?'

'No, it's not that. But some of that poor man's fellow-workmen have set their hearts, it is said, upon making a bonfire in one of Dane's mills,to stop his making some people more comfortable than others, I suppose; and the bonfire may need care.'

'A bonfire!' said Prim. 'I should think Duke would put a stop to that.'

'So he intends. But you cannot always stop a thing before it is begun.'

Dr. Arthur leisurely warming one foot as he stood at the fire, tool notice now that the third member of the company, not saying a word, was watching him with an interest before which even Prim's grew tame. And (all things being fair in the pursuit of science) suddenly intercepting the look, he found that it as suddenly retreated, in some confusion. Whereupon, 'standing attention' a little more, Dr. Arthur took the measure of the gray chair as accurately as if he intended to have one made for himself, and then with a smile came back to the more selfish business of warming his other foot. Therewith entered the temporary master of the house.

'Well, ladies!' said he; 'have you come to any conclusion as to what is to be done?'

'We do not but half understand the case yet, Duke,' answered Primrose.

He passed through the room to Wych Hazel's side.

'I have got to be in the Hollow to-night,' he said. 'The wife of the man who was hurt, in an impulse of gratitude, I suppose, has warned me that an attempt will be made before morning to fire one of my mills. I do not half believe it; and yet I think I must be on hand. What will you and Prim do? There are only two things; for you to ride to Dr. Maryland'sand that is seven milesalongside of Arthur's buggy; or that you should spend the night here. I think Gyda can make you comfortable. I have sent a messenger to Chickaree.'

'Excuse me for interfering,' said Dr. Arthur, 'but as my buggy remains here, the honour of Miss Kennedy's company alongside would be of doubtful expediency.'

'Nonsense Arthur!' said Dane; 'if she wanted to go, I should let you take the buggy. What do you say, Miss Kennedy?'

'I shall stay,' said Hazel, just ready to laugh at the unwonted name. 'Unless I can go alone.'

'Sit down then,' said he taking her hands and putting her back in her chair. 'Arthur, take off your overcoat and make yourself comfortable if you can. Prim, I am glad to see you.' And he went over to kiss her. 'Now we have got the evening before us. Gyda, we are all going to stay. Is your kettle on?'

CHAPTER XI.

STARLIGHT AND FIRELIGHT.

He went out, probably to fill and put on the kettle himself; and came back with an armful of wood for the fire. In the light of a splendid blaze the four friends sat in a half circle round the fireplace, and the evening was falling gray outside.

'Do you expect they will really set fire to your mills, Duke?' Primrose asked.

'I do not know what to expect.'

'But I thought they liked you so much?'

'Those are not the people who are talking of lighting up Morton Hollow. Do you know,' he went on to Wych Hazel, 'it is thought by some parties down there, that my doings are so much in want of explanation that the secret is probably to be found in Satanic influence.'

' "If they have called the master of the house Beelzebub," 'said Prim, with her eyes fixed on the fire.

'And it would not pay to drench the cotton bales on an uncertainty'said Hazel, her eye mentally fixed on one particular bale for which she had a kindness.

'I can't conceive how they should think so, after all, Dane,' said Primrose.

'It seems unnatural for a man not to take all he can get. Therefore it has not been very difficult, I fancy, to persuade some of the ignorant people that a deep scheme to wrong them must be hid under the apparent plan for righting them. It is easier to believe that than the truth.'

'A little natural envy too,' said Dr. Arthur. 'Just when is this performance to come off?'

'Impossible to guess.Arthur,' said Dane suddenly, 'I want you for my doctor.'

'You have me, sir,' said Dr. Arthur, bending his brows upon his friend. 'What's the matter with you?'

'Do I have you? I want for a permanency.'

'I see. The case promises great interest. Well?Begin with your most unpleasant sensations.'

'You began with them this afternoon,' said Dane gravely. 'The case does possess interest, for it regards the sensations of some fifteen hundred people, or more. I want you to take charge of it;on a salary to be fixed as hereafter agreed upon. What do you say?'

'Thank youI should like it very much,if it were only for the pleasure of working with you. And they want better care than they get.'

'Thank you,' said Rollo in his turn. 'I thought you would, and yet it is a load off my mind.'

'Why it will be delightful,' cried Prim. 'Nothing could be nicer.'

'The next thing is, Arthur, where will you live?'

'Why at home, can't he?'

'No. I will build a house for you, Arthur, if you can put a housekeeper in it.'

'Don't let such a trifle stand in your way,' said Dr. Arthur. 'There'll be one in it when I am there. And when I am not, it's no matter.'

Dane uttered a low whistle, and looked at the other members of the little circle.

'Shews how much he knows about housekeeping!'

'For a particular man, which he is,' said Prim.

'You wouldn't believe it,' said Dane, his eye coming round to Wych Hazel, 'but I shall have to make the tea carefully to-night, because that fellow is here.'

'All which proves that I know how to make it for myself,' said Dr. Arthur composedly. 'But it is mere fudge, Dane, about building a house for me. Get your hands roofed in, and then don't do one other thing at present. I'll live somewhere.'

'Lodge under a hedge, and dine in the top of a beech tree. Where would be a good place?I do not mean, for the beech tree. Somewhere near the spot where the road to the Hollow leaves the Crocus roadthat's about three miles. That would be in the way of everything."

'But Duke,' said Primrose, 'are you in earnest? Couldn't he be at home?'

'Seven miles off, Prim? He was only just in time this afternoon. Arthur, I wish you would draw out a plan of a house that you would like.'

'But who could keep house for him? Prudentia?'

'No,' said Dr. Arthur, 'I cannot manage any prudence but my own. But Dane, I am in earnest. I want you to let your reserve force rest. You may reach corners where you will need it all.'

'What are "corners" in mill-work?' said the silent little figure in the depths of the cushioned chair. Dr. Arthur turned to her instantly, listening with almost critical attention while she spoke; but then he drew back and waited for Rollo to give the answer.

'A corner,' said Dane with critical gravity, 'is a place where your path is crossed by another. Which indeed usually makes two corners; perhaps four.'

'What do you do then?'

'Turn. That is, if I cannot go straight on.'

'Therefore you see that with a train of fifteen hundred men, a corner is an awkward place,' said Dr. Arthur.

Wych Hazel went back to her cushions and her pondering, making no reply. And Dr. Arthur, waiting for the answer which came not, took out his pencil and a card and began idly sketching an imaginary house. 'There,' he said, handing it over to Rollo,'see if you can execute that?'Across the house was written:

'Make her talk. I want to hear her.'

'There is another sort of corner,' Dane went on meditatively, after glancing at the card;'a corner where ways end instead of meeting. The corner of a wall, for instance, inside, where there is no way out but to jump the wall.'

'Yes,' said Hazel. 'I thought perhaps that sort existed only in my experience.'

'What is your experience of corners?'

'I have seen two fencesmeet.'

'Yes, but where were you?'

'Mr. Rollo, I am talking seriously. What corners may be "ahead," in this mill-work?'

'None, I hope, that I cannot get round. But if we are to speak seriously, suppose that there should be a sudden failure of orders?'

'So that he could make in two days more than he could sell in six,' said Dr. Arthur, who with arms folded and eyes on the floor was listening keenly.

'But the men could not stop eating just because he stopped selling,' said Hazel, with her usual short run to conclusions.

'Of course,' said Dane laconically.

'Then if the work went on as usual But how long could you do it? That is what Dr. Maryland means,' said Hazel.

'You see the corner.'

Hazel saw it, and retreated again to her own among the cushions.

'I am not in it yet,'said Dane looking at her.

'No. And I should not think you would call any place where you ought to be, "a corner," ' said Hazel, who was generally impartial in her reproofs.

'Not if it was a corner?' said Rollo with the most innocent gravity.

'No.'

She laid her hand up against the side of the chair, leaning her face upon it, watching the fire. Turning slightly, from under the shadow of his own hand, Dr. Arthur studied her.

'Meanwhile, let us consider the plan of the doctor's house. I cannot show you his card, for it is not all quite as straight as Dr. Arthur's plans generally are; but I wish you two ladies would make any suggestions that occur to you; and I will make a note of them.'

'It needn't be a large house, I suppose, Dane,' said Primrose.

'Mem. To be a small house.'

'O hush, Duke!' said Prim. 'That is not a suggestion. But this is; have plenty of closet room.'

'Item; with large closets.'

'Hazel, do tell him something,' said Primrose. 'He is laughing at me.'

Hazel smiled, but she was not much inclined to enter the lists.

'I am sure he has been laughing at me,' she said. 'And I do not know about the houseonly it ought to be perfectly bright and pretty in every way. Because Dr. Maryland will see so much pain in the course of his work, that he ought to find nothing but a welcome when he comes home.'

'Are you satisfied, Arthur?' said Dane, as he gravely added to his notes.

'Quite. One should be, with perfection,' said the doctor. 'If Prim will kindly let me arrange my own closets.'

Prim was silent, and what she was thinking of, this story does not tell; but her next words made rather a bound from these.

'Dane,' she said suddenly, 'is there any necessity for your going down to the mills to-night unless you are sent for?'

'I think it would be proper,' said Dane, making his notes.

'Then you will go?'

'I suppose so.'

'But if you had set men to watch, I should think they might have prevented all the trouble.'

'I did not want to prevent it.'

'Not? Why, Duke?'

'If it is to come, I would rather it should come now, when I am here and expecting it.'

'Is there danger of any rough work?'

'Among the men? I cannot tell.'

'O Duke! if you had set men to watch, I should think they could have put out a fire without you.'

Hazel roused up suddenly. 'Prim, how can you talk so?' she said with quick emphasis. 'Of course he must go!'

Dr. Arthur smiled.

'I do not see the must,' Primrose answered. 'You don't know what a mill-fight is, Hazel.'

The girl shrank back among her cushions. 'But he must go' she repeated, half to herself.

'I do not expect to hear of many more mill-fights in Morton Hollow,' said Dane very calmly. 'What is it, Gyda? Supper? Well, some of our friends here will be very glad of it.'

There was porridge and cream and flad-brod, of course; there was hung beef and honey; altogether it was rather a sumptuous meal. Rollo attended to the coffee on the hearth, and made the tea; as usual did half of the serving himself, and took care that his old nurse should not exert her strength beyond very gentle limits. They voted to disregard the table and keep their places round the fire. So in grand red illumination from the blaze they took their cups of coffee, which Dane filled from the pot on the hearth; and handled their plates of porridge and cream; and but for the night's work in prospect, would have regarded it as a piece of grand fun. To the young men indeed that circumstance was not enough to make it any less than fun, and to one of them it was much more. Gyda, whose little black eyes watched them all keenly, found it a pleasant sight; for the smile on her old lips was as sweet as May. Though indeed Gyda's smile was quite wont to be that. She sat where Rollo placed her and suffered him to attend to her wants; but she said never a word unless spoken to.

It was still not far on in the evening when the supper was disposed of and the room was again in company order. The little circle gathered somewhat closer together. They had been talking gaily, yet something in the social atmosphere hindered conversation from the buoyancy natural to it in happy circumstances; it acted like a wreath of chimney smoke in a damp morning. In a pause which had come, no one knew why, Primrose remarked,

'I wish you would sing something, Duke.'

'Why?'

'Why, because I like to hear you.'

'Yes, do,' said Dr. Arthur. 'Prim's nerves are sadly out of tune.'

'I don't think my nerves are ever out of tune,' Prim answered gently.

'Not when they have work to do,' said Rollo. 'Nor ever at another time, that I know.'

'But you can sing, if I don't want tuning.'

'Certainly. But in all questions that are not of duty, you have to consider the effect.'

The lazy deliberateness with which this was spoken, was at least as provoking as it was comical. Wych Hazel from her place was silently watching them all, her eyes going from one speaker to the other with wide open consideration. Now, her lips just parted and curled and came back to their gravity.

'Go onwill you?' said Dr. Arthur,'I have a perplexing question to decide before to-morrow; and it rather helps me to have somebody make a noise.'

'If you would tell us the question, perhaps it would help us make a noise,' said Dane with the same placid gravity.

'Profound!'said Dr. Arthur. 'Wellgive us something in that line.'

'What line?'

'Original and scientific observation.'

'That's your line. I was thinkinghow would you define "a noise"?'

'Extraneous sounds come pretty near it, with me,' said Dr. Arthur.

'But you wouldn't call music "a noise," ' said Primrose.

'Wouldn't I!When Miss Powder has wandered off alone to the Sands of Dee and doesn't want to be interrupted!'

'But what you would call a noise, isn't music, Arthur. Now Hazel, I wish you would just sing one of your little songs and confound him!' Primrose spoke entreatingly.

'I should be more happy to be confoundedin that waythan I can tell,' said the doctor.

'Thank you,' Hazel answered laughing; 'my songs are quite too small to do that for anybody. And besides, as I once heard somebody say,"I was not asked first." '

'Your are asked to be the first,' said Rollo.

'I remember one night at Newport' Dr. Arthur began. Hazel interrupted him.

'You need not remember anything about Newport!'

'Need I not?' said the doctor smiling. 'Agreed!I like this much better. But one night when you were singing to Kitty Fisher, in her room, she had secretly posted an ambush underneath the window. It would be hard to forget those songs, or to cease wishing to hear them again.'

'Kitty Fisher!'

'You will certainly do for Prim what you would do for Kitty Fisher,' remarked Rollo.

'I suspect I did it for myself then,' said Hazel; and "for herself' was the way she liked best to sing. But if he wished it So without more ado the song came. Not one of her gay little carols this time, but a wild Border lament; inimitably sweet, tender, and true. As effortless in the giving, as forgetful of auditors, as if she had been a veritable bird among the branches; for Wych Hazel always lost herself in her music.

Then more was called for, with a general soft shout. And then, by and by, as Wych Hazel sang, a soft rich accompaniment began to chime in with her notes. Those two had never sung together before; doubtless that was forgotten by neither; and it is not too much to say that the one voice came caressingly attending upon the other; playing around her notes with delicious skill, accompanying, supporting, contrasting, with a harmony as gracious as it was wilful; till at the close of a somewhat longer piece than usual there was a universal burst of applause. Small audiences are not generally wrought up to such a pitch; and when they had done they all sat and laughed at each other.

'Ah!' said Dr. Arthur, 'I asked for a noise, and after all had to make it myself!'

They had got intoxicated with melody. They went on singing, of course. Various and diverse things, but for the most part of the deeper and thoughtful styles of music; sometimes together, sometimes alone. At last Gyda asked for a hymn. Rollo looked at Wych Hazel. The two spots of colour which had been burning in her cheeks, changed suddenly to a grave flush.

'That is for you,' she said softly.

He waited a moment, and then sang,

"Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott"

To hear Rollo sing a hymn, or any other song, was to have the meaning given with not less but more than speaking expression, and Wych Hazel's winter studies had enabled her to follow the words. The listeners were all very still, and no applause followed. But when the last line was ended, Rollo rose and announced that it was time to go. And soon as he and Arthur had left the cottage, Hazel sprang up.

'Mrs. Borresen, which window best commands the Hollow?'

'You can't see into the Hollow from any of 'em, my lady.'

'Where then?'

'You know there's a bend in the Hollow, Hazel,' Prim remarked. 'We cannot see into it from anywhere here.'

Wych Hazel stood looking down into the burnt out fire, her hands knotted tight together. If she were but alone!Could she in any possible way elude her companions and not be found out? especially the first. Certainly she was a wayward creature, they might think. Five minutes ago listening to that hymn with the most quiet, subdued child's face; and now fairly sparkling with energy and purpose. How could she manage? Prim was putting on her bonnet and shawl.

'It is not very cold,' she remarked. 'I am going as far as the top of the road.'

Hazel glanced at the gray chair,no, she could not disturb that. She begged a shawl of Gyda, and was off, out of the door without more ado. But not to find Primrose. It rather suited the young lady's mood to be by herself; and so, noiselessly, Hazel flitted along through the starlight, without however being able to reach a point which looked straight down into the Hollow beyond the bend. The uneven ground, the unknown distances, baffled her. Standing still, she heard nothing. The starry sky overhead was not more calmly quiet than this portion of the darksome earth appeared to be. A little frosty, the air did not stir enough to rustle the leaves on the trees. Crickets and some other fall insects had it all their own way. Wych Hazel went over to the ground on the other side of the road and tried that. Frosty, and still, and starlight, it was on the other side of the road; in the bright gloom even her point of view did not seem to be changed. Her next move was back to the cottage. There she stood still upon the steps.

Presently the door opened behind her. 'My little lady' said Gyda.

'I am here, all safe.'

'Won't you come in?'

'But I cannot hear anything!' said Hazel. 'I might go a little bit down the road'

'No,' said Gyda. 'He wouldn't have you, nor forgive me if I let you. There'll be no great trouble, my lady; my lad's men will all do what he bids them; and if there's trouble, he'll get it over.'

'Do you think so?'She drew a long breath, stepping down off the stone again and listening. The old woman's hand came softly to hers to draw her in, for the watch had already lasted long; but just then a faint reddish light arose in the dark above the Hollow.

'What's that?'

'It's fire, my lady.'

'There!' Hazel exclaimed. 'O don't stay hereyou will get cold; but just leave me.'

Gyda would not leave her however, nor lose sight of her. Their words drew Prim to the door, who had earlier returned to the cottage. They all stood looking. There was a glow of light certainly; it brightened and spread for a while; yet it was rather like the glare from a good-sized bonfire than the token of any more serious conflagration. Nevertheless they watched it, the younger women painfully; until they saw that the light was stationary, did not increase, then certainly was less, then evidently fading. 'It's all getting over,' said Gyda; 'and it's not great thing at all. Come you in before the master gets back. It's your wisest.'

'I never was famed for being wise,' said Hazel, her spirits taking a little spring as the fire went down. But she turned and went in, and stood before the peaceful fire on the hearth, looking into its red depths. Primrose sat down, but with a different face, sober and meditative in another way. Gyda went out to her kitchen. Perhaps Hazel was tired of standing, for she presently knelt down on the hearth stone, holding out her fingers to the blaze, covered with the red light from head to foot. She looked rather pale, through it all.

'Prim,' she said suddenly, 'did you ever stay all night up here?'

'No. Never.'

'Then of course you do not know where we are to make believe sleep.'

'I suppose it will be in that room where our things were laid. Mrs. Borresen will tell us. Hazel, will you mind, if I say something I want to say?'

'I cannot tell whether I shall mind or not.'

'Shall I say it?'

'Yes, if you want to,' said Hazel, devoting herself to the tongs and the fallen brands.

'It is only just this.What are you going to do about dress?'

If ever anybody was astonished, it was perhaps Miss Kennedy just then.

'Dress!' she echoed, looking at Primrose and then down at the trim, invisible brown riding-habit, which, looped up and fastened out of the way had been perforce retained through the evening. Very stylish, no doubt, as all her dresses were; though in this case the best style happening to be simplicity, the brown habit with its deep white linen frills was almost severely plain. 'Prim,I have not the faintest idea what you mean!'

'I don't mean now, to-night, of course.'

'Any time. What do you mean by "do"?'

'Manage' said Prim. She looked as if she were searching into the subject, with a doubtful mood upon her. She went on. 'Do you suppose Dane would like you to dress as you have been accustomed to do?'

Wych Hazel rose to her feet. Whatever Mr. Rollo's own right to comment upon her or her dress might be, she was not in the least disposed to take the comments at second hand.

'I should think your recollection might tell you,' she said, 'that Mr. Rollo feels quite free to find fault with me whenever he sees occasion.'

'But Hazel,' said Prim meekly,'don't be angry,Do you want to wait for that?'

Hazel gave a half laugh. 'People always think I am angry,' she said.'I wonder if I am such a tempest?'

'You are not a tempest at all,' said Prim still meekly; 'not now, certainly; but I know you can feel things, and I don't want you to feel anything I say, except pleasantly. Indeed I don't, Hazel.'

'I'm glad you think I can feel things, but I suppose my comprehension is less lively. I do not even know what "managing" about my dress would be. I never "manage"!' said Hazel, with a fierce onset upon the brands.