'What is there, Duke?' asked Primrose, for Hazel did not speak.

'That is called the German Chamounix. The fields of blue ice come down almost to the bottom of the valley.'

'And is it pretty?'

'Chamounix is reckoned so.'

'I should think you would go to the real Chamounix, while you are about it,' remarked Mrs. Coles.

'Common,'said Dane. 'Never be common, if you can help it. Then from G' schlss we will mount the Grossen Venediger. It is eleven thousand feet high, to be sure, but uncommonly easy to go up; and from the top we shall have a good wilderness view of rocks and ice and snowand little else, beside sky.'

'I do not see the pleasure in that,' said Mrs. Coles.

'O I do,' said Primrose. 'But Duke, Hazel could not walk half a day, like you.'

'Yes, she could, in the high Alps.'

'It must be delightful!' Primrose said musingly.

'Another time I will take her over the Dobratsch. She can ride up there.'

'Duke, you do use very odd words. What is the Dobratsch?'

'A mountain in Illyriaalmost as good as the Rigi.'

'Why not go to the Rigi?' said Mrs. Coles.

'Crowds. But I will go to the Rigi too, if Hazel makes a point of it. The Dobratsch has more variety of scenery than the Rigi. Both give you lakes and glaciers; but from the Dobratsch you have a view of tremendous weatherworn limestone peaks, and riven Dolomites. Then we will visit the Warmbad-Villach.'

'What is that, Duke?'

'A little watering place. You would like it. A warm clear spring breaks forth just at the borders of the forest. It is a nice place to be late in the season. Then there is another walk I want to shew her, in the Rainthal, going from Taufers.'

'It sounds like a guide-book,' said Mrs. Coles chuckling. 'Where is Taufers?'

'That is in the Austrian Tyrol. You go for a couple of hours beside a glacier stream which is almost all the way a broad ribband of white foam. The bed of the brook is so steep and rocky that the water is dashed and shivered into spray, glittering in the sunshine, and wetting you all the same. What do you say to that, Hazel? You like brooks.'

Hazel had been deep in the intricacies of a bit of netting; the little foot with the netting-stirrup perched up on a foot cushion, the long needle flying swiftly to and fro. A stir of colour now and then, a curl of the lips, were the only tokens that she heard what went on. She answered sedately.

'They are good society, to follow.'

'And the lakes are not bad,' Dane went on. 'We should go to Mnchen of course, to study art; and from there we will take flying runs to the lakes; Ammersee, and Walchensee, and Knigsee, and the rest of them.'

'But won't you take her to Mont Blanc and Chamounix, and to see the Matterhorn, where those people were lost?' said Mrs. Coles, whose breath seemed to be taken away.

'Of course. But the mountains are just as good where people have not been lost.'

'Have you been to all these other places already, Duke?' Primrose asked.

'More than once, some of them. I have walked there for weeks with Heinert,' he added, turning to Hazel with again the change of tone.

'And that is your wife's travelling clock!' said Mrs. Coles. 'It seems to me you are betimes about your preparations.'

'Always a good way,' said Dane coolly.

'It is a fine thing to be rich!' the lady went on, gazing at the clock.

'You are just about as rich as I am,' said Dane in the same tone.

'I! As you!!'

'Practically.'

'I don't know what you mean by practically. You have millions, and I have a few hundred or so.'

'I mean only, that neither of us has anything that he can call his own.'

Mrs. Coles stared, but her interlocutor seemed to be looking at things in a very matter-of-fact way. He was now busy fitting another engraving into its fame; a plain black walnut frame, without carving or gilding, like the rest.

'I cannot conceive what you mean, Dane,' Mrs. Coles broke forth.

'It is perfectly simple. Surely the fact that we are only stewards of what we hold, is not strange to you?'

It seemed to be strange however, for Mrs. Coles weighed the statement.

'But Dane,people do not take that so closely.'

'What then? There is the fact.'

'Prudentia, you have heard papa say the same thing, at least a hundred times,' Primrose reminded her.

'He hadn't much to talk about,' said the doctor's eldest daughter. 'And Dane, you do not take it so closely, either. What do you mean by your fine proposal to go travelling? How will you do it, if you have not the money?'

'I hold the money, to be used for the very best ends and interests I know. If when the time comes, I see any way that I can spend the money better, I'll not go.'

'But it would be spending the money on yourselfyourself and your wifeif you went, at any rate,' persisted Mrs. Coles. 'And you say, it is not yours.'

'Mine to spend.'

'On what you please.'

'No; in such ways as will best do the work the Owner of the money wants done.'

'And what has your travelling to do with that? I don't see.'

'If I don't see, as I said, I'll not go.'

'But how could it, you contradictory man?'

'Human nature often needs relaxation and recreation,' said Dane. 'Mine might.'

'Relaxation!' said Mrs. Coles. 'When you know as well as I do, that you are a pine knot for endurance, and a very burr for persistence.'

'Don't take her statements, Hazel,' said Dane. 'She does not know much about the vegetable creation, if she does about me.'

'But answer me, if you can.'

'Human nature also needs cultivation, I was going to add. A servant must make himself the best servant he can. A man is bound to give himself and his family the utmost of every kind of cultivation that is possible to him without neglecting higher ends.'

'H'm. And is Mrs. Rollo's travelling clock Which class does that come under?'

'Pleasure.'

'O you hold pleasure lawful then?'

'Certainly. Within the above limits.'

'Prue, Prue,' said Prim uneasily. 'Stop. You have gone far enough; and too far.'

'I was seeking knowledge, Prim; and that, Dane says, is commendable. May I ask one other question, Dane? What head do these mean little picture frames come under?'

'You do not like them?' said Dane, surveying the one in hand with its enclosed photograph of Dannecker's Ariadne.

'Why don't you have handsomer ones?'

'Economy.'

'You cannot mean it.'

'Neverthelessit is true.'

'You, who have such loads of money? '

'To use, as I told you,' said Dane, smiling now. 'The engravings and photographs are both pleasure and education. I do not find either the one or the other in gilded stucco.'

'Well, have them carved, then.'

'Can't afford it, as I said.'

'But my dear Dane! are you going to regulate your whole household on such principles?'

Dane answered with the most matter-of-fact manner, that it was his intention.

'But I should think elegant frames would come under the head of pleasure.'

'They would not, to me, when I thought of the money they cost.'

'But Dane! with your means! Do you know what people will say of you?'

'I know,' he answered. 'The world will always find a nice name for a fellow that does not go by its rules.'

'You are so obstinate!' said the lady. 'You always were. Nothing I could say would ever move you. I shall get Arthur to talk to you. But what does your wife think of your doings?'

Dane was silent, only the corner of his mouth began to play.

'She has stockings on this minute that cost five dollars a pair, if they cost a penny. How does that fit with your wooden picture frames?'

Dane rose and rang the bell. 'You must be tired, Prudentia,' he said without the change of a muscle. 'And Prim is, I know. I shall send you to bed to get a good night's sleep, for you have a great deal to do to-morrow.'

Mrs. Coles did not know how to answer. And the servant appearing, Rollo ordered candles, and himself went with the ladies to the door of their room. There he took leave of Prim, whose face had clouded painfully, with a whispered word which brought a flush of pleasure back to it. It was not yet late. The little travelling clock was only ringing its ten musical silver peals, as Dane came back into the room. Wych Hazel was still standing as the ladies had left her, looking absently down at the picture frame. Dane came silently up and stood beside her.

'Do you think I shall ever stop being perverse?' she said abruptly.

'How are you perverse now?' he asked in a very disengaged tone.

'I have been pretty nearly as perverse as I could be, all these two days!' said Wych Hazel. 'Fighting everybody and everything. I dressed just as much as good taste would let me, because I never can put your friend down in a plain dress. And I have answered five hundred questions.And I never thought about stockings in that way.I thought one must have stockings!' said Hazel, putting out her dainty foot and looking down at it ruefully. But then the brown eyes came eagerly back to him. 'Do you think I shall, Olaf?' she repeated.

Gently, very fondly, he gathered her into his arms and held her close. And without saying a word, his manner gave assurance of contentment enough to satisfy any woman.

'Then you are not going to scold me?' he asked at length, without releasing her.

'For what?'

'Bringing you into such perverse circumstances.'

Hazel looked at him wistfully. 'I knew how it would be,' she said. 'I knew myself. That was why I said no. At least, partly why.'

'Do you regret my action?'

'I was naughty enough yesterday morning to hope you would,' said Hazel with a confessing laugh.

'I told Prim just now, privately, that if we ever went that journey I spoke of, she should go too.'

The colour flushed up into Hazel's face, and went away again, but she gave neither word nor look.

'You are sorry?'

'Never ask such questions afterwards!' said Hazel. And she would have disengaged herself, but he would not let her. 'Do you not know better than that?'

'Hazel,' he said, gravely though full of tenderness,'you and I are not going to live to ourselves?'

Like a statue, so the girl stood; but with a rush of thoughts that for a minute she could not head off.

'He might live to mejust a little bit,' so they ran. 'That is what I shall do to him,under God,always!'Then tramp, tramp, came the words:

"The man was not created for the woman, but the woman for the man,"and if ever in her life Wych Hazel felt rebellious, she did so then. The old grievance of man's right of way,the fact that it was a right,but with it a softer feeling, hurt and sore, that he could even wish for anybody else but her on such a journey; that her right should not have come in there.

"The moon looks down on many brooks,

"The brook can see no moon but one!"

He might at least have consulted her. Suppose she had asked somebody?Wych Hazel drew half of a very long sigh, choked the rest back, then raised her grave brown eyes, and answered,

'No.'

Did he see what was beneath them? For a peculiar fire leapt into the grey eyes. He spoke in the same tone he had used before.

'Suppose, Hazel, we lose twenty-five per cent. of our pleasure? And suppose Primrose gains a hundred?' He was holding her close and tenderly, looking down into her eyes with all the power of his.

'Well,' said Hazel,'I suppose she would.'

'And I suppose we should. I ask nobody for my pleasure to be a third with us. I suppose it will be a trial to me when we go home, to have Heinert at the dinner table and talking to me in the evening. And yet, Hazel, just because you are so much to me, I dare not but pour pleasure into every cup I see standing empty; even though I let a few drops of my own go.'

She answered softly 'Yes,'yet was very near adding, 'But you are spilling mine!'It was rather hard. Would he be always doing such things, over the head of her pleasure? But in the new life and purpose awake in her, Wych Hazel had found a new set of answers to trouble some questions. If the answers were also sometimes difficult, they were at least conclusive. And now, as she stood there, these words came:

"For even Christ pleased not himself."

"Even,"what was she, to set up her pleasure against anybody's good? A quiver crept round her lips for a minutebut then she looked up and laughed.

'I am just as perverse as I can be, to-night,' she said. 'Stroked all the wrong way. That disposes of everything.'

Rollo bent and pressed his lips to those soft trembling ones, and still holding her fast, caressed face and hair with the free hand; his face shewing more delight in her than Hazel was in a condition to observe; though the tenderness of tone and touch spoke their own language.

'Hazel' he said softly.

She looked up, listening.

'I am curious about something.'

'I cannot say I shall be happy to gratify your curiosity, until I know what it is about.'

'It concerns the question, how you are going to ask my pardon for the thought that has been in your head?'

'I am not going to do it.'

'You ought. And you know that what you ought, you always, sooner or later,do.'

'Ought I?' said Wych Hazel. 'Is it one of your prerogatives to have your pardon asked without cause?' But then she laid her face against his, in a way that was extremely womanish and not a bit self-asserting.

Rollo stood still and added no more. He had read what was going on in her thoughts, and he knew that she was mistaken; but he also knew that words prove nothing, and as before, he waited. Only as at last he let her out of his arms, he said lightly,

'You will not lose anything in the long run, Hazel. People never do, by doing right.'

CHAPTER XXXI.

NOVICE WORK.

Mrs. Coles did not improve her position next day. 'What nights does Sacchi-sssi sing?' she asked, when Rollo had left the three ladies alone. Hazel answered that she had not noticed.

'They say she is wonderful, and beautiful, and everything. Do you suppose Dane will take us, if we ask him nicely?'

'I do not go.'

'To the opera? My dear! Not at all?'

'Not at all.'

'But why?'

Wych Hazel stood thinking. She was very shy of declaring herselfyet sometimes it must be done.

'A few years ago,' she said slowly, 'when the war was going on, two gentlemen came one night to see Mr. Falkirk. They told war stories; and I with my book of some study in my hand, sat still and listened. One story was this. A mutual friend of all the parties had laid the United States flag down in her drawing room as a floor- cloth, to be trodden under foot. Then the other gentleman spoke out and said his wife would not enter that house again while the war lasted! Mrs. Colesat the opera and the theatre my flag is under foot.'

'Your flag!' said the lady in amazement.

'Yes,' Hazel answered with her colour stirring. 'You know what service I have sworn into.'

'I don't see where the flags come in,' said Mrs. Coles.

Hazel answered softly, gazing into the fire,"Thou hast given a banner to thy chosen, that it may be displayed because of the truth."

'Then you mean to say,' broke out Mrs. Coles with a rising colour of her own tinging the pale face, 'that no Christians ever go to the theatre!'

'Do they carry their flag aloft there?' said Wych Hazel. 'Are they marching to victory under its folds? I could not carry mine. It would be trailing, drooping, union-down!'

'Prue, Prue,' said Primrose, 'you know what papa always says.'

'Papa does not know the world!' said Mrs. Coles, waving that down. 'And how about your favourite German?' she said, returning to the charge against Wych Hazel with equal ire and curiosity.

Wych Hazel answered again, still looking into the fire,

' "No man that warreth entangleth himself with the affairs of this life; that he may please him who hath chosen him to be a soldier." '

The girl spoke so "at liberty,"there was such freedom in the loyalty, the folds of the banner waved so gladly above her head, Mrs. Coles looked and hesitated. Then, spying as she thought a joint in the armour, so to speak, she sent out an arrow.

'And you call that a good marching uniform, I suppose,' she said derisively, with a comprehensive glance that went from head to foot.

Wych Hazel faced round upon her with eyes wide open at first in displeased astonishment. But in a moment another look came, startled, wondering, as when one finds a sudden unlooked-for clue. Was that it? Wych Hazel said to herself. Had it been left to Mrs. Coles to tell her? "A good marching uniform?"Wych Hazel thought she knew better now than ever before "what to do about dress."

The ladies were going out, and the subject dropped. The morning was filled with out-of-door business. At luncheon Mrs. Coles declared herself fatigued and disposed to rest at home. She fondly hoped the afternoon would be made lively by visiters; and to her wish, so it was.

Among others came Miss Annabella Powder. This young lady had not been wont to seem so fond of Hazel's society as the other members of her family; indeed she rarely made her appearance at Chickaree more frequently than civility demanded. To-day, however, she made a long visit. It was not that she seemed to be enjoying herself; she went languidly through a prolonged conversation with Mrs. Coles, who had an endless number of questions to ask about the winter, and especially about her pretty sister Mrs. Charteris; with a latent view to supplemental information also about Rollo and his wife, if such were to be had. Annabella answered at random, made Mrs. Coles desperate, was bored; and yet did not go away. At last she seized a chance and moved to a seat beside Hazel. It was at a time when several other people were present and just then engaged more or less with each other and a common subject. Annabella had never been intimate with Hazel. Therefore it was the more noticeable when with depressed voice and somewhat hurried emphasis she said,

'I want to speak to youI want to say a word.How can I?'

'In this window' said Wych Hazel leading the way. 'They are miles deep in Miss Burr's engagement.'

In the window was a most beautiful hyacinth. The two ladies stood, one on this side and one on the other side, and spoke,not about floriculture.

'I have no time here,' Annabella began breathlessly, bending down to put her nose to the beautiful buff bells, which were sweet enough at a greater distance. 'I want to see you alone, Mrs. Rollo. You were always so kindWhen can I? I have a great deal to say. Could you go and drive with me by and by? I don't know what other way'

'It must be to-morrow, then,' said Hazel, straightening the stick which supported the heavy head of flowers. 'To-day I am promised to Mrs. Coles.'

'To-morrow, then? You are so kind, Mrs. Rollo!and you are the only personAt three o'clock, then? and I will come in mamma's carriage. You wont speak of it?'

'I never give such promises,' said Wych Hazel.

'But'Annabella's eye went anxiously to Mrs. Coles.

'Discretion is stronger than bonds.'

'And you are very discreet?' said the girl trying to laugh. 'Well, I must trust you. But don't let any one know you are going out with me!'

The next day Mrs. Coles was engaged to luncheon with a friend and took Primrose with her. They had not returned when Miss Powder came for Hazel, and the two ladies drove off in security. It was not a day for a pleasure drive. Clouds hung low and grey; the air had been keen and raw, with snow in its course somewhere. Now it had become suspiciously milder. But neither lady was thinking of pleasure.

'You are very good, Mrs. Rollo!' said Annabella, who evidently had some difficulty in commanding herself, and was very unlike her usual statuesque manner. For she was a handsome girl, of the Madonna type, and either by temperament or for policy had long adopted a calm style to match. To-day it was broken up.'I am very much obliged to you!' she went on. 'I did not know whom to speak to, and I must get somebody to help me. And Josephine used to think so much of you; I thought she would mind you if anybody. I couldn't ask mammamamma don't know. O what shall I do?' And with this most honest cry of despair, poor Annabella broke down.

Hazel asked what was the matter? under the wild idea for a moment that Miss Powder had found her heart and then rashly broken it.

'Nobody knows' the girl began again, trying to get the better of her agitation; 'it has not come out yet; nobody suspects; and I thoughtif you could hinder it! If you cannot, there is no one that can. Mamma has no idea. And it would just kill her to know. She thinks it is all right. Poor mamma!'

'But what am I to hinder?' said Wych Hazel.

'Have you seen Josephine lately?'

'Yes.'

'Didn't she seem like herself?'

'Extremely like herself.'

'So she did when I saw her. And her house,did you see her house?it was so nicely arranged and so pretty; and I thought she was so happy'

'I never thought that,' said Wych Hazel.

'I did. I thought she had got what she wanted; we all thought so. Nobody married this year had a better establishment than Josephine; not one.'

'She got what she married for,' said Hazel; 'but Josephine's "wants" were larger than that.'

'Were they?' said Annabella drearily. 'I didn't know it. I don't see how they could be.'

Ironical words rose to Wych Hazel's lips; but she sent them back. Somehow her own height of happiness made her strangely tender and humble even towards such fallacy as this.

'Then you are not troubled about her?' she said enquiringly.

'Troubled!' Annabella echoed. 'Why she has left it all.'

'Left it!'Wych Hazel sat up straight in her place, facing round.

'Nobody knows yet; but she has left it. Mamma don't know. If I can only keep it from mamma!'

'Keep it from Mrs. Powder?' Hazel repeated. 'Keep what? Where has she gone? What can you be talking of, Miss Powder?'

'She has not gone far yet, but she means never to come back. I know where she is; she is hiding. You see, Mr. Charteris is at Albany; he has some business about some bill he wants to get through the Legislature, and it will keep him there a while; and Josey took the opportunity. She ran away; and I should never have known where to, only that the person she went to came and told me. It is a woman who used to be housekeeper for mamma; a very respectable woman; and Josey went to her. Think of it! And she won't come back. Not for me. And then I thought, if anybody living could have any influence over her, it might be you. She always thought all the world of you. Is it very bold in me to ask you? But Mrs. Rollo, I was desperate!'

Poor Annabella's looks and tones did not belie her. Wych Hazel sat back again, thinking.

'Marry a man,' she said slowly, 'and you may be able to live along without an "establishment." But if you marry an establishment, the small appendage that goes along with it But she must come back, of course! at once,' Hazel exclaimed, retaking her impetuous tones. 'Won't come?she must.'

'If you can only make her?' said Annabella. 'Nobody knows anything yetand Charteris will not be home for days. But I have not told you quite the whole. There is another person concerned. I am afraid,'Annabella spoke with bated breath'she means to go to Europe.'

'Stuart Nightingale'

'Oh do you know that?' Annabella burst forth with a cry that was almost pitiful. 'Do you know that? Is there no hope? Can we do nothing?'

Usually so calm and impassive, Miss Powder's manner to-day was in a sort of shattered condition. Hazel's mention of Stuart's name had startled her into an access of fear. And the difficulty of managing a volcano from the outside came strongly into Wych Hazel's mind. She answered slowly,

'I do not know. We will try.'

'And may I take you to her now? There is no time to lose.'

Hazel assented, thinking busily. 'This is her resource,' she said to herself. 'The pocket pistol would have been mine.'

The carriage rolled on now for a time without any more words passing between its inmates. Both ladies were meditating, ways and means and hindrances. The grey sky under which they had begun their drive, seemed to be letting itself down closer and closer upon the earth; and this low grey canopy was becoming suspiciously smooth and uniform. The air was quite still, and had as I said, suddenly grown mild. But neither of the two busy thinkers noticed the signs abroad.

'Mrs. Rollo,' Annabella began after a long pause,'I am afraid you can do nothing with Phinny. She always has had her own way, and she is obstinate. Suppose you cannot make her listen to you; do you think you could have any power with Mr. Nightingale?'

Hazel hesitated to answer, and Annabella went on.'I don't know whether you knowMme. Lasalle has got one of her friends to give him an office; and he is going out next month as consul to Lisbon. If only he could be got off without her, then, you see, we should be safe.'

'She would follow.'

'No, I don't think she would; she would not dare. Phinny is not bold, in that way. Could you do anything with him, do you think?' The accent of forlorn anxiety was touching from the usually so imperturbable sister. She watched Wych Hazel's face and words now.

It was a very mixed question. Could she?truth to say, she felt uncertain. Yet perhaps.But might she? Would the attempt be permitted, if Rollo knew? Was it breaking faith to try without his knowledge? Or were there cases when she might lawfully and secretly follow her own judgment against his? and was this one? Hazel folded her hands over her "yes."

'Don't talk to me, please,' she said. 'I must think.'

Again the carriage rolled on with stillness inside. The grey air outside grew almost tangible, it seemed so thick. Very fine snow crystals were beginning to flicker down, but I think neither of the ladies remarked it. Meanwhile the wheels of the carriage were no longer rattling over paving stones; the streets and houses of the city were left behind; a grey country, with houses scattered over it and trees here and there standing, desolate and drear enough, was to be seen from the carriage windows; but Wych Hazel hardly saw it. At last the houses began again to stand apparently in some regular order and took a more comfortable air; gardens and trees and shrubbery lay between the houses and around them; then suddenly the carriage turned round a corner and presently stopped. Wych Hazel saw a small dwelling house of very humble pretensions, but neat-looking, and with a small courtyard in front; and now perceived by the signs that she was in a village. 'Where have you brought me?' she said.

'O, Fort Washingtondidn't I tell you? Mrs. Rhodes lives here. She is quite respectable.'

The snow was not yet falling, except in those fine isolated crystals. But the branches of the trees that overshadowed the house were beginning to sway hither and thither as if the wind were rising, and a warning moan of the breeze came through the tree-tops. The ladies went in at a little gate in the paling fence, and were admitted immediately into the house by a neat elderly woman. A little entry- way received them, having a door on each hand. Wych Hazel was ushered into the room on the right, while Annabella disappeared with the woman into the other opposite.

It looked dreary enough, for Josephine Charteris's hiding-place. Respectable it was, to be sure. There was a gay ingrain carpet, a little table set out with photographs of Mrs. Rhodes's friends and relations, living and dead; around the walls hung a great number of other pictures in cut walnut frames and resting on brackets of the same. A large one of Abraham Lincoln held the first place among these, and another engraving of a racehorse challenged attention, with a large map of North America and the portrait of Jenny Lind. Hazel felt as if she could not have borne the whole together for one half hour, if she had been there on her own account. In a few minutes Josephine came in. She was not different from what Hazel had been accustomed to see her; not excited, not disturbed. Her dress was rich, and a little careless; in both respects not unlike Josephine. She received her visiter cordially enough.

'You are the only person I would see,' she said. 'How did you know where I was? I have come here for rest. You know there is no rest as long as people know you are in town; it is nothing but go, go, night and day. And here one has really a breath of country air. I have brought a carriage load of books with meall the new novels I could find; and I just lie abed and read all day. Dreadfully useless, isn't it?' she went on, with a laugh; 'but you know I never pretended to be anything else. Don't you think that is the great point? not to pretend to be what you are not?'

'Well, why do you then?' said Wych Hazel.

'I?I don't. I think it's no use. People see through pretences. I only pretend enough just to keep up appearances. Didn't I always tell you exactly what I thought? I don't tell everybody.'

'Do you suppose I believe that you came here for the express purpose of being snowed up,outside of theatres and Germans, and other necessaries of life?'

'That is just what I want,' said Josephine. 'I wish it would snow five feet deep. I would like nothing better than to be snowed up. I would like to be desiccatedlike a man I was reading of yesterday; he's in a French novel. Do you know, he was desiccated; he was a convict, you see, and the men of science could try their experiments upon him; and they desiccated him and laid him by; and he was forgotten, and years passed, and everything changed in the world, and his children grew up, and his friends diedif he had any friends; and people forgot what this preparation was; and they cut off a bit of his ear to try under the microscope whether it was an animal's skin or what it was. And afterwards the skin was put in water and he came to life again that was all he wanted, you know, like a rose of Jericho. I wish I could be desiccated and kept awhile, till everybody was dead that I know, and then come to life again.'

'What would be the pleasure of that?' said Hazel, watching her.

'I should never see Charteris any more. I suppose I shock youbut what's the use of pretending? He's away in Albany now; and as soon as he went, I ran. You see, it isn't at all a bad sort of a place here. Little rooms, to be sure, but there's nobody in them but me; and Rhodes is a capital cook, and she pets me, and I like to be petted. And I have my own way here, and down in 40th street I can't. With all the world outside the house, and a husband inside, there is no place to breathe. I enjoy it here ever so much, and I don't want to go back, ever! Don't you want to run away too, by this time?'

'Then it is a real scheme, deep-laid and serious,' said Wych Hazel. 'Not the whim Mr. Nightingale calls it?'

'Mr. Nightingale!' said Josephine, her face changing and darkening. 'What does he say of me? Has he spoken to you about me? He doesn't know anything.'

'About anything.No. And never by any chance speaks the truth about the few things he does know. He said that Mr. Charteris had gone to Albany, and that Mrs. Charteris had the pretty whim to follow him. "Touching," I think he called it.' The disdain in the girl's voice was incomparable.

'That will do,' said Josephine. 'It's nobody's business whether I am in Albany or not. Never mind him; talk to me. Why haven't I seen you anywhere all winter? Does Dane Rollo want you to stay at home, now he is married? like Charteris?'

'I am married too,' said Wych Hazel with a flash of her old self. 'So take care what you say about him. Josephine, did you tell that man you were going to Albany?'

'Nonsense!' said Josephine laughing. 'I believe you are afraid to answer. I know you used to like to have your own way. Did I tell Stuart? No. What should I tell him for? I didn't tell him I was going to Albany, because I wasn't. I was coming here; and that wasn't worth telling a fib about. I came here to do what I like; and I just do it from morning to night. I suppose you are learning to do what you don't like. How does it feel?'

'I did not believe one word he said, all the time!' said Hazel, coolly ignoring the insinuations. 'Why should Stuart Nightingale invent falsehoods to cover the movements of Josephine Charteris?'

'Just as well as for anything else,' said Josephine laughing. 'I'm much obliged to him for the attention, I'm sure. But you don't answer, Hazel. I want to know how you and Dane get on together, after all your fine theories? Dane Rollo was as lordly a man as I ever saw, with all his easy ways; and you never were one to give up your liberty. I suppose you won't confess. Now I am more honest.'

Wych Hazel answered with a laugh,fresh and gladsome and sweet,more convincing than a hundred words. But she was grave again instantly. She left her chair and bringing a cushion to Josephine's feet sat down there, leaned her arms on her friend's lap and looked straight up into her face.

'Josephine,' she said, 'I am very, very much troubled about you.'

Josephine did not answer this. She looked at Hazel, and then her look wandered to somewhat else; undeclarative, withdrawn into herself.

'Josephine, you cannot have what does not belong to you, any more in men than in money. And if you try to give away what belongs to somebody else, nobody but a wretch will take it.'

'You are going to give me a moral lecture, because I came to Mrs. Rhodes on a spree?' said Josephine, with a superficial kind of little laugh. 'Isn't my time my own while Mr. Charteris is away?'

'No, it is not. Not to spend in a way that wrongs him. And you are not your own, wherever he is.'

'You think I am a man's property just because I am married to him! I don't. I think the man and the woman are equal, and both of them are free. It is only among savages that women are slaves.'

Hazel let that pass. Keeping her folded hands on Josephine's lap, she looked down, thinking.

'What sort of life have you led with Mr. Charteris so far?' she said, not raising her eyes. 'Can you picture it for me?'

'Picture it!'Josephine put up her lip, and then she laughed with seeming amusement. 'Did you ever see two chickens pulling at the two ends of a worm? That's about it. John pulled one way, and I pulled the other. Pleasant picture, isn't it? But that sort of thing can't last forever.'

'No,' said Wych Hazel looking suddenly up,'but this does. A life ignored by all respectable people; a name spurned with the foot and scorned on the tongue. A dark spot, which only forgetfulness can hide,and which nobody ever forgets! That other sort of thing does end, Josephine, with death, or with patient endeavour; but this thing, never!'

'You talk'said Josephine pouting. Then she suddenly broke out, with her eyes full upon Hazel's face. 'Don't you think, if you had never been happy in your life, you would like to try just for a little how it feels?'

'Yes,' said Wych Hazel, 'but you are going to try misery;and not for a little.'

'I am not trying misery here,' said the girl with a shrug of her shoulders. 'I tell you, it's jolly. How did you know where to find me?'

'There is a fair view, quite often, from the place where one step towards it plunges you down thousands of feet. When you are left alone in Lisbonand dare not come home to Americathen you will learn what misery is.'

Josephine started a little, and for once her colour stirred. Words did not come readily. When they came, they were a somewhat haughty enquiry what Hazel meant?

'Just what I say,' Hazel answered quietly.

'Did you come here to say it?'

'Yes.'

'That's Annabella. Well,I don't care. You know about it. You know I can't live with Charteris.'

'Josephine, you must.'

'I cannot. You can't tell how it is. He don't care for me, and I don't like him; and I don't think, for my part, it is religious for people to live together that don't like each other.'

'This is a tragedy, not a farce,' Hazel said, knitting her brows. 'Leave fashions of speech a one side. John Charteris, with all his faults, would never grow tired of you, Josephineif you gave him half a chance to help it; but Stuart Nightingale will.'

'I am jolly tired of him,' cried Josephine with a burst. 'Charteris and I can't live happy together. I know better. And it will be worse now he has lost his money. I would rather die, Hazel. And I tell you, he is tired of meand I should think he would. If you knew the life I've led him, you would think so too. You needn't talk to me. I would rather die right off, than go on living with him; and it would kill me anyhow, and I'm not going to die that way.'

'There is honour in dying at one's post,' said Wych Hazel thoughtfully,'even if it came to that. But to sail away on a pleasure trip, with all one's dearest friends praying that the ship might go down in mid-seas!'

Josephine sat still, looking with odd impassiveness into the fire; then she remarked in the same way,

'My dearest friends don't do much praying. I guess they won't drown me.'

'You may kill them,' said Hazel. 'Imagine people watching Annabella and saying 'Poor thing!''What has become of the other sister?''O you mustn't ask about her. You know'and then heads will draw together. And your mother will see the shrugs and catch the hints.'

'What makes you care?' said Josephine, without moving a muscle. 'I believe you must have liked him a little yourself.'

'I liked him such a very little,' said Wych Hazel, 'that a year ago I cut up his heart into bits. He has patched them together again, but the stitches shew.'

'Stuart was poor,' said Josephine. 'I knew it all the time.'

Wych Hazel's brows drew together, but the words got no further notice.

'Josephine, you married for diamonds. I will give you diamonds every week for a year, if you will go back to your place and stay there.'

'I don't care for diamonds,' said Josephine very coldly.

'What do you care for?'the grave young eyes looked up eagerly.

'Not much'said Josephine drearily, and the words were inexpressibly sad from such young lips. 'But I am not going to live in that prison in 40th street and with that jailer Charteris any more!'

'Josephine, you could change all that. There is no prisonand no jailerfor any woman of whom it is true: "The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her." '

'It wouldn't be very safe for Charteris to trust me,' said Josephine, with a hard, metallic laugh. 'I never was to be trusted. I know what you have come for, Hazel, and I know who has brought you; it's Annabella; but it's no use. You may give up the job. I know all you want to say, and I'm not going to have you say it; and you have said it, besides. Look here. A marriage isn't a real marriage when people don't care for each other. Do you think a woman is bound by a few words said over her by a man in a black silk gown? by an incantation, like the savages? It would make me downright wicked to go on living with John Charteris; you ought to want to save me from that. I am always a great deal bettermore religiouswhen I am happy, than when I am miserable. It always rouses up all there is bad in me, to try to make me do something I don't want to do. I can't imagine how you get along with Dane Rollo; but that is you affair; this is mine. Where is Annabella?'

Before Hazel could stop her, she had flown across the hall to the room on the other side, whence she fetched back her sister. The conversation was not renewed. In ignorance of what fruit the interview might have borne, or what its results might be, Annabella dared not touch the matter; and Josephine gave her no chance. She kept up a rattling fire of nonsense, until the two ladies were forced to leave her.

The day was darkening fast now towards the early evening. Fine snow was falling thick, and the wind came in gusts. There was no time to be lost in getting home. Yet Annabella paused at the very coach door and looked at Hazel. 'Have you done anything?' she asked anxiously.

At the instant a gentleman ran against them with an umbrella, and lifting the same suddenly to make his excuses, a very familiar figure was revealed to them. Stuart Nightingale himself. A flash of disagreeable expression crossed his face for that one second of surprise, then he had regained his usual manner.

'Quel plaisir!' he cried, bowing low. 'Two such ladies, in the snow, here! at Fort Washington! The charms of the surprise is manifold. What has procured it? mercy, or vanity? One or the other it must be. A sick friend?or a French mantua-maker? But you are never going to drive back to New York in this awful storm?'

Annabella drew herself up and made no answer. Wych Hazel looked at the snow.

'Good evening,' she said. 'The storm is not much.'

They were to have more of it, however, than she had bargained for. Stuart's remonstrances were not listened to; the ladies entered their carriage and drove off. But their driver, who was not Mrs. Powder's servant, had improved his leisure time during their stay in the house by making visits to a neighbouring drinking saloon; and now, confused by the mingled efforts of wind and brandy, took the road north instead of south from the village. To spare her sister, and indeed herself, Annabella had taken a hackney coach, and this was what came of it. The ladies were thinking of something else and did not see what their charioteer was doing. Annabella broke at last a silence which had prevailed for some time.

'What did she say?'

'Said she didn't care.'

'She would not listen to you!'

'Not this time.'

'Then there is no chance,' cried Annabella in despair. 'They will make all their arrangements now. Stuart is going to sail the week after next, I know.'

'I wish I could get speech of him!' said Wych Hazel, knitting her brows in the darkness.

This too was to fall to her lot in an unexpected manner and measure. It might have been three quarters of an hour, or more, from the time of their meeting that gentleman in front of Mrs. Rhodes's cottage, when Stuart happened to be in the street again and crossing the main road at the corner where the carriage had turned the wrong way. The storm had now grown to be furious; wind and snow driving so across the street that to hold his umbrella was no longer possible. As with difficulty he closed it, a carriage stopped immediately before him, the door opened, and two ladies sprang out into the storm. He had nearly run against them again, before he saw that they were the same ladies. And they saw him.

'O Mr. Nightingale!' cried the foremost, forgetting everything in distress,'do help us. We've got a drunken coachman.'

'Miss Powder!But how are you here yet?'

'O he took us ever so far on the way to Albany before we found it out. He's quite stupid. What shall we do?'

A few steps in the snow, taken with extreme difficulty, brought them to the shelter of a village hotel. Here the matter was debated. Stuart advised their spending the night quietly where they were. But Annabella would not listen to this. "Her mother," "her mother"she urged; "her mother would be frightened to death." Write, Stuart suggested. Miss Powder did not believe any messenger would go. Stuart offered to be the messenger himself. Annabella refused, obstinately. I think she did not put enough faith in him even for that. She would have a carriage and proceed on her journey forthwith. Annabella shewed herself determined, and Hazel did not oppose her decisions, nor have much to say in the matter generally.

So a carriage was got ready; it was necessary to offer a huge fee to tempt any man out that night, but however that was arranged; and in half an hour the ladies were able to set forth again on their interrupted journey. But one circumstance neither of them had counted upon. Mr. Nightingale, after putting them into the carriage and giving directions to the driver, coolly stepped in himself and took the opposite seat.

'Mr. Nightingale!' said Miss Powder'you are not going?'

'Certainly I am. You two ladies cannot be allowed to take such a journey alone. I should expect Gov. Powder never to speak to me again, and coffee and pistols with Rollo would be too good for me. To say nothing of the punishment of my own conscience.'

The drive from that point was extremely silent, and never to be forgotten by at least two of the party. The violence of the storm was quite enough to justify the third in intruding himself upon their company, though I am afraid nobody thanked him for it. Wind and snow and darkness made any progress difficult, and any but very slow progress out of the question. The horses crept along the road, which they were not infrequently left to find by themselves; the snow whirled and beat now against one window and now upon the other with a fury and a rush which were somewhat appalling. Still the horses struggled on, though all the light there was abroad came from the glimmer of the snow itself, unless when a gleam shot out into the night from the window of some house. They did keep on their way, but it was doubtful at times if they could. Within the carriage conversation was limited to remarks about the weather and the cold, and did not flourish at that, though the cold did. To keep warm became impossible.

It was a great relief at last to feel pavement under the wheels, which they could do in the broad places where wind had swept the street bare; and gaslights looked very kindly, flaring along the line of way. They could see the storm then! How it raged and drove through the streets, driving everybody to the shelter of a house that had a house to go to; and those who had none were slunk away into other hiding places. The wind and the snow had cleared the deserted streets; an occasional carriage was rarely met.

'Set me down first, please,' said Annabella, pressing Wych Hazel's hand to mark her meaning. 'My mother must be in distressand it is just as near going that way.'

Stuart laughed a little, but he did not speak his thoughts which went to the possible anxiety of some other people. With some difficulty he hailed the coachman and gave the order, and presently Miss Powder was deposited at her own door. Stuart gave the next order and jumped in again.

Now what should Wych Hazel do? During that minute, while she watched the two figures standing in the driving storm before Mrs. Powder's door, she had taken a comprehensive view of the situation, and made up her mind.

'Sit there, please,' she said, motioning the incomer to his former place on the front seat. 'I want to talk business.' Since leaving Fort Washington she had hardly opened her lips; but now the well- remembered voice came out clear and sweet and with a ring of grave dignity.

'Am I to suppose you do not think me worthy to talk business alongside of you?' said Stuart lightly, and obeying.

Wych Hazel left that question to answer itself. She was silent a minute, her hands holding each other fast.

'Mr. Nightingale,' she said, 'you once asked me if I liked to hear the truth told about myself. Do you?'

'From you!anything,' he answered gallantly. 'Your voice never speaks harsh judgmentsthough I am afraid the truth about myself would be less than flattering. What is it, Mrs. Rollo? I am curious. It is said, no man knows himself.'

'I have been told,' said Wych Hazeland she hesitated, and then went on again with quick utterance,how intensely disagreeable it all was to her!'I have been told this afternoon, that a year ago you wanted my fortune. Stop!I do not care two straws whether you did or not!But I wished to say, that upon certain conditions you can have part of it now. Think before you refuse, Mr. Nightingale. No one will ever offer you so much againin exchange for so little.'

A pause.

'I am at a loss,' he began in a changed voice, 'how any one can have induced you to believe' And there he stopped. But Wych Hazel gave him no help. She sat looking out into the night, the gaslights flaring in from time to time upon her face. Had she grown fairer than ever?

'Everything is said about everybody,' he said haughtily after a little. 'I do not know why I should fare better than others. The truth about anybody is never public report. It is assumed in the case of every woman who has a fortune, that the man who seeks her, wants it. The gentleman who has had the honour of Miss Kennedy's choice has certainly not escaped the imputation, however he may deserve it no more than I.'

'That is not business,' she said in quiet tones. 'If you please, we will discuss nothing else.'

'I am not so happy as to know of any business between us,' he said in the same haughty manner,'great as the honour and pleasure would be.'

'It will save time,' said Wych Hazel, 'to waste none in preliminaries. I want to buy up your present bad undertakingand the price is for you to name.'And she looked out again into the white darkness, and wondered if this was to be her first night adventure wherein Mr. Rollo did not appear to take her home.

'Pardon me, I am very much at a loss to know what you mean. Only, through the confusion, I seem to perceive that Mrs. Rollo has lost the kind opinion which Miss Kennedy used to have of me.'

He heard a soft exclamation of impatienceextremely like 'Miss Kennedy!'Then came deliberate words again.

'Mrs. Charteris,' she said, 'has no money of her own. I offer you what you will to let her alone. To break with her utterly. Do you understand? I believe if you pledged me your word to that, you would keep it.'

'Thank you!' he said in the same tone. 'May I venture to ask, how you can possibly suppose that I have anything to "break" with any other woman, after you have broken with me?'

The words were beneath notice. Wych hazel went on as if she had not heard them.

'And if you will come to a decision soon,now, while I am here,I shall be very glad.'

'Mrs. Rollo supposes that everything can be done with money!' Stuart said scornfully. 'It is a not unnatural delusion with those who have an unusual supply.'

'No,' said Wych Hazel in the same calm way; 'I do not suppose that. I know better. But with nothing in the other scale, money and honour have their weight.'

'Mrs. Rollo probably has for the moment forgotten that she is not still Miss Kennedy. She will forgive me the remark.'

'I have not forgotten that either. If I had, I should not be here talking to Mr. Nightingale.'

'Why not?' said he quickly.

'The fact is enough. I am dealing only with facts to-night. Business facts.' And Wych Hazel leaned back and was silent; listening to the dull roll of the wheels, and the sharper swirl of snow and hail against the windows. A few minutes of silence allowed these to be heard. Then the carriage stopped.

'You know,' said Wych Hazel suddenly, 'there are two names at stake. What do you decide, Mr. Nightingale?'

The carriage door opened; he had no time to reply.

CHAPTER XXXII.

SUPPER.

It was not exactly a cheery evening in Hazel's deserted rooms. Rollo had the entertainment of Prim and Mrs. Coles upon his hands, and was besides all the time busied in baffling her efforts to find out whether he was anxious, whether he knew where Wych Hazel had gone, whether he was aware of what kept her, and whether he did not think something ought to be done. This sort of exercise grows wearisome in time; and Rollo finally gave it up and fled. He put on coat and hat and repaired to the great entrance of the hotel, which seemed to him just then if not a point of rest, yet to be nearest to that point. Here he had a view of the storm, which he studied at leisure in the intervals of watching everything on wheels that went by. He knew who it was, when Hazel's carriage drew up at last, and was by the side if it before it had fairly stopped.

He opened the door and took Hazel out, and led her into the house, without paying attention to anything but her. He took her up stairs to her own room, which he reached without going through the parlour where Mrs. Coles and Prim were. There he threw off his own snow-covered wrappings and then hers, that he might wrap her in his arms. He did not say what he had been feeling, but his manner of great gladness left Hazel to infer several things. And for a minute or two she was passive, shewing a pale, tired face. But then there swept over her such a sense of what she had, and of what she had escaped, that she could only lay her head down on his shoulder and be still; a shiver running over her as she remembered other souls adrift.

'Have you dined, in the snow, anywhere?' were Rollo's first coherent words. He was not given to talking sentiment. At the same time he was gathering Hazel's cold hands into his.

'I could not help it, Olaf!' Hazel broke out. 'I have been whirled about like a brown snow-flake.'

'And come home frozen.' He rang the bell for Phoebe, admonished her to be quick, and went back to the drawing room. When Hazel a few minutes later followed him, she found a servant bringing in supper. Primrose gave her a welcome kiss, but the other lady exclaimed,eyes and senses on the alert,

'Well, my dear! we have been uneasy about you.'

'Nobody ever needabout me,' said Wych Hazel. 'Unless there is something afoot more serious than a snow-storm.'

'It's a wild storm, isn't it?'

'Rather wild. You know, wild things are in my line, Mrs. Coles.'

'Not now, my dear, I hope. You have not come far in the snow, surely?'

'A little way seems far in such a drive, don't you know it, Prudentia?' remarked Rollo. And he took Wych Hazel out of the chair where she had placed herself and transferred her to a softer one.

'But Dane,' Mrs. Coles continued, with her own very peculiar mixture of raillery and insinuation,'aren't you curious? or do you know all already?'

'I know all I want to know at present, thank you.'

'Does he always let you do just what you like, Hazel?'

'What I like?' Hazel repeated dreamily, lifting her eyes to the person in question: a swift, secret glance of allegiance which to- night came to him very often. Then she laughed and coloured a little. 'I hardly know,' she said. 'My "like" and his "let" are mixed up in inextricable confusion.'

'My dear!' said Mrs. Coles in mock reprehension, but smiling. 'What an admission!'

And I think an inner voice of wisdom admonished her to let the matter rest and say no more; but Mrs. Coles was in a sort of malign fascination at the picture before her. Hazel was in her easy chair; Dane had brought up a little low stand before her, and sitting between her and the supper table he was taking care of both; but the care bestowed at his left hand was something the like of which was strange to see. The late Mr. Coles had never introduced his wife to anything of the kind; indeed he had been one of the men who rather expect that their wives shall wait upon them. It was not Dane was neglecting other people, or that he was making any parade whatever; on the contrary, he was fully attentive to every want of everybody, and of Hazel he was only taking care; yet it was a sort of care and given in a manner that put miles and miles between her and all other women. I suppose Mrs. Coles felt herself somehow out in the cold, for it was certainly with a little spice of irritation that she opened her lips the next time she spoke.

'But Dane,' with an uneasy little laugh, 'I really think you are to blame, to allow this little ladyso very young a lady as she isto run about alone at night in this way. I have really been anxious. I thought you would be a better guardian, when you had the keys once safe.'

'Will you have some salad, Prudentia?'

'Salad?O no, my dear! I think it is very unwholesome.'

'Take some ice.'

A turn, or at least a check, was given to the conversation. Mrs. Coles could not refuse the ice. Primrose would eat no supper, and was evidently longing to get her sister away. Rollo cut for Hazel a slice of game.

'But Dane,' said Mrs. Coles presently, 'don't you think it is very imprudent to eat such heavy things late at night? Coffee and salad, and game? This ice is delicious.'

'So is the salad,' said Dane. 'Will you have a bit of the pheasant, Prudentia?'

'My dear! no. I don't see how you reconcile it with your new principles, either, to have such suppers.'

Rollo's eye had a flash of laughter in it as it went to Wych Hazel. He asked gravely, 'Why not?'

'Mr. Rollo and I have agreed about partridges,'said Hazel, in whom also fun was beginning to stir, though her eyes kept a far-off look now and then.

'Agreed about partridges!' repeated Mrs. Coles.

'Yes,' said Dane. 'You had better take some, Prudentia. Rosy,a little bit with some bread would not hurt you.'

'But the expense, Dane!'

'Yes. What about it?'

'The expense must be fearful of such a supperin such a house as this.'

'A man who wants his horse to do him good service never asks about the price of oats.'

'Dane!' said Mrs. Coles laughing and bridling, 'do you mean to compare your wife to your horse?'

Rollo was quite silent, long enough to have the silence marked. And when he spoke, it was not to Mrs. Coles, neither did he honour her by so much as a look, during the rest of her stay in the room. Primrose made the stay as short as she could, and Mrs. Coles who felt that she had lost her footing and did not know how to regain it, suffered herself to be carried away. But while Primrose got a kiss, she was dismissed by her host with a very ceremonious reverence. He had opened the door for the two and closed it behind them. Coming back he bent down to touch his lips to Wych Hazel's cheek.

'If you have any remarks to make, make them!' he said. 'I am defenceless, and at your mercy.'

But for once Wych Hazel was in a region of air quite beyond Mrs. Coles. She looked up at him wistfully.

'I do not understand,' she said, 'how you ever came to care about me! It always was a puzzle,and never so much as to-night.' The brown eyes were strangely soft and luminous and humble.

'How is that?' said he quietly, taking his former place beside her and making suggestions of addition to her supper. But Hazel laid down her fork, giving her plate a little push, in the fashion of old times.

'I have been looking into depths,' she said,'abysses. I think I was never really near them, but I might have seemed so.'

'What sort of abysses? And in the mean time, take some iceMrs. Coles was correct in one thing she said.'

'Dane,' Hazel said abstractedly, 'do you think you could be a success where I have proved a failure?'

'Where have you proved a failure?'

Hazel neglected her ice and leaned back in her chair.

'I used to think I could do things,' she said. 'And I have spent this whole afternoon and evening to no sort of purpose.'

'It is instructive, to learn sometimes that one cannot do things' said Dane. I suppose he had a little curiosity, but not much, for he knew he should hear what there was to hear; and he was thinking much more of Hazel than of what she had or had not failed to do. So he spoke in a rather careless amused tone.

'Very!' Hazel answered.'Dane, in buying up a man, is it more skilful to set a priceor to let him name it himself?'

'If you want to buy me,I should say, let me set my own price.'

'Thank you. Even my extravagance does not desire such waste. But I want to buy off that nephew of Mme. Lasalle's. Andbeing worth nothinghow much is he worth? I believe I ought to have offered a definite sum,' she went on, half to herself.

Dane roused up fully now, and demanded to know what she was talking about?

'He is going to Lisbon,' said Hazel, too engrossed to be very methodical in her details. 'And Josephine Charteris means to go with him. I can do nothing at all with herand I must do something with him.'

'Not with Stuart Nightingaleif that is what you mean.'

'I must.'

'I can find a substitute for that "must." What do you want to do, Wych?'

'Put them both under bonds. But I have tried, and failed.'

'You have tried Josephine? Do you say that she wants to go with him?'

'Says she will go. Will not even take diamonds insteadand they were her price,' said Wych Hazel with sorrowful disgust. 'So then I tried him.'

'Tried him! Have you seen Nightingale?'

'O yes. Annabella let him get her carriage and drive home with us. I would not,' said Wych Hazel with energy. 'Not if I had waited there all night.'

'Was he in the carriage with you?'

'Coming home,yes. And after Annabella was set down, I tried him with everything I could think of,or everything he could, rather.'

'I am very curious to hear what arguments you made use of.' Dane bent a little to look at the speaker, with a face half amused and wholly intent. Wych Hazel laughed softly.

'I am not a very round-about person,' she said. 'And if he had had either honour or conscience or feeling, there would have been no need for my speaking at all. And Josephine had just assured me that last year he wanted my fortuneso I asked him how much he would like to have now. In effect.'

'With the understanding that he might have what he spoke for?'

'O yes. Of course,' she added with a flush and a glance, 'he knew that I could only mean within certain limits. I did not tell him what they were.'

Rollo looked at her for a moment almost sternly; but then he broke into a laugh. 'It is like Wych Hazel!' he said.

'Was it absurd?' said the girl, the crimson starting again. 'But I do not see why. I suppose that is like me too,' she added with a half laugh.

'I do not think you absurd,' said Rollo, laughing still. 'Perhaps just a trifleunbusinesslike.'

'But I thought it was good business to say exactly what you mean?'

'If you were practised in rifle shooting, I should tell you that you forgot to allow for the wind.'

'Well, as I am not?'said Wych Hazel looking up at him.

'For instance. You are practising at a mark, perhaps eight hundred yards off; the first time you aim for the bull's eye, and hit it. Between the first shot and the second however, a breeze has sprung up. That alters the case. The second time you will not aim at the bull's eye, but perhapsaccording to the force of the wind a dozen feet to one side of it.'

'Did that ever happen in your shooting?'

'Such a thing has happened in my shooting.'

'And you hit it, that second time?'

'I hit ityes.'

Wych hazel looked soberly into the fire. 'You will never make a sharp-shooter of me, Olaf,' she said. 'I think nothing will ever make me learn calculation.'

'What did Nightingale answer you?'

'He saidor intimatedthat I thought I had my old power still,' said Hazel slowly.

'He is one of the men that have their price. But you forgot that his pride must have its price too.'

'Pride? Can he have any pride left? It was just becausebecause he used to like to do what I said, that he would not now.'

'I do not understand yet how he came to be driving with you.'

'Didn't I say that? Why,' said Wych Hazel running rapidly over details, 'Annabella did not have their own carriage, but a hack and a tipsy driver,for Josephine's sake, you know. And when we left Josephine he set off up north to see where the snow came from. And we made him turn round, and then jumped out when we got back to Fort Washington. And there we ran against that man again.'

'How came you in Fort Washington?' Rollo asked, his eyes snapping in the midst of the very grave intentness with which he was listening.

'That is where Josephine has hid away.'

'Nightingale drove in from Fort Washington with you?'

'Yes.'

'Does anybody know about this business?' Rollo asked after a slight pause. 'Not Josephine's mother?'

'Nobody. Annabella thought I might have some influencebut if I could not keep her from marrying Charteris in the first place What can be done?'

'I will try. But Wych, I am going to make one regulation.'

'Yes. Well?' said Wych Hazel, with a certain sheer at the name of "regulations."

'Whenever you go out in a carriage, here or in the country, I wish you always to be attended by a trustworthy servanteither Lewis, or Byrom, or Reo.'

'But my dear friend, in this case I could not have taken either. Don't you see?'

'I do not see anything,' said Rollo lazily. 'Not even that I am your dear friend.'

'I have known you fail on that point before,' said Wych Hazel demurely. 'But the thing to see is that Mr. Rollo's regulations cannot always be carried out.'

'I cannot think of a case where I should allow the exception.'

'I'll tell you as they come. Then will you try what you can do with that wretch?' she went on eagerly.

'I think we can manage him. But I shall not see him myself, Wych; that would be to start his pride again; and of all human passions pride is the strongest that I knowunless possibly jealousy. I must have a medium, and I think I know the right one. I propose to offer him, not carte blanche, but, say, five thousand a year for five years; on condition that during that time he neither joins nor is joined by Josephine, wherever he may be. He wants money badly, as you say. I think he will accept my offer.'

'You had better say for life,' said Wych Hazel quickly.

'No,' said Rollo smiling; 'that would be bad economy. Some day you will know what economy is; in the mean while, believe me. He is not worth more than twenty-five thousand dollars; and she is not. And if she is obliged to wait five years, she will never go to him after that. As to the rest,'and Rollo bent his head caressingly by the side of Wych Hazel's'where my regulations cannot be carried out, Hazel,do not go.'

'But Olaf'

'Well, Wych?' he said, looking at her with the grey eyes full of love, and full of delight in her, and full of admiration of her; not the less, soft as they were, full also of that expression which is called masterful when people do not like it. Wych Hazel looked up and then down, silently knotting her fingers in and out. Rollo put his lips down to hers, but waited for what she had to say. It did not come at once.

'I am trying to push myself out of sight,' she said frankly with one of her sweet laughs. 'And I am a hard one to push, sometimes. But for my worksuppose I have something to do which cannot be done so?'

'Don't do it.'

'Really? Suppose it ought to be done?'

'It is quite plain that in such a case, it ought not to be done by you.'

'You leave me no more room for discretion, than Mr. Rollo did in the old time,' said Wych Hazel soberly. 'WellI hope you will succeed with that man,' she went on in her former tone; 'but he was not in a pretty mood to-day.'

'We shall succeed with him. And when you get into any perplexity, what hinders Mrs. Rollo from applying to her husband? Or in a case of need, employing him?'

'I always did like to work out my own perplexities.'

Rollo laughed at her a little, and let the subject drop.

But the business of Nightingale he took up in earnest the next day. Stuart shewed some fencing, which however was widely distant from fight; and in the end gave in to Rollo's proposal, with the exception that he contrived to bargain for five thousand down in addition. Rollo and Hazel were well content. Stuart received the guaranty of thirty thousand dollars, and Josephine Charteris was saved to her family and to society. And nobody knew anything about it.

Chapter XXXIII.

ABDICATION.

Chickaree again,and clear cold weather, although it was March. Spring declared herself timidly on the sunny side of slopes, and by the water courses; spoke softly in the scented wind, hung out her colours where snow-drops and violets grew; and shoutedSpring fashionfrom the feathered throats of blue birds and robins; but otherwise, in byeways and corners, the snow lay and the ice glistened. The world of Chickaree outdoors looked cold enough.

Not cold within! Sunlight flooded the breakfast room,and a gay fire: and before the hearth the little lady of the house stood crimson-robed and pink-cheeked, and just now very contemplative. She was slowly balancing a great bunch of keys large keys and smallupon her pretty fingers. Such was the picture before the eyes of the new head of the house when he came in to breakfast. I think he liked it too well to be willing to break the spell of silence which seemed to be upon the dainty lady, for while his eyes took keenest notice, he made no open demonstrations.

Hazel sorted her keys, choosing out one, changing it for another, then swinging the bunch by a third and putting the rest in a certain sequence. Then she turned suddenly round, growing more pink- cheeked than before.

'I did not know you were here!'

'Pray what then?' said he smiling.

'Are you at leisure for breakfast?'

'I usually am, at this time in the morning. And to-day is not an exception.'

Hazel sounded her whistle.

'Will you be at leisure after breakfast, Mr. Rollo?'

'Depends on what meaning you attach to the words.'

'As we are not in theologicalneither scientificregions, you might answer closer than that,' said Hazel. 'Well have you time for a long excursion into parts unknown?'

'Where?'

'I thought,' said the girl, swaying her keys softly and looking down at them'Would you like At least, shall I take you over the house after breakfast?'

'You shall take me anywhere you please. Why over the house? Does anything need repair?'

'You have never seen it all,you do not know where you are, yet. Nor what you have to work with.'

'To work with?' Dane repeated looking at her. 'It strikes me the house is for you to work with. I have six mills to run.'

'Yes, but' Hazel threw off her first words with a laugh, and chose others. 'Not just as it used to be, you know,' she said sedately. 'And part of it has been shut up,and you have never seen the whole. And if I am to be house steward' Dingee came in with the breakfast, and Wych Hazel turned off to that. It pleased Dane to let her take her own time to explain herself on this occasion; he would not hurry her. So he talked of other things until breakfast was over. He had seen Heinert already, and the change in him was wonderful. Feeling thoroughly at home in his old chum's house, he was as happy as a child; not cumbering himself with what he would do when he got well, which now he securely expected to do. It might be some time first; for the present Heinert was happy; and Hazel would see him at luncheon. And, meantime, she had quite forgotten his existence in more pressing things.

'I want you to see all the house,' she said, handling her keys again; 'because then you will knowwhat you want done. And so shall I.'

'I do not want anything done,' said Rollo, looking for the meaning of all this, which as yet he did not see.

'Yes you do,' said Hazel. 'Or you will. All sorts of things. So come.'

But instead of that, he put his arm round her and drew her to his side, looking into her changing face.

'Who said you were to be a house steward.'

'Must a thing be said in order to be true?'

'No. But generally speaking, it had better not be said unless it is true. Nicht?'

'I suppose I must be something!' said Hazel, with that pretty half laugh which covered so many thoughts.

'Yes,' said he laughing and stooping to kiss her. 'Do you want me to tell you what?'

'Keeping strictly to fact and not fancy'

'Strictly fact.' And folding her close, and watching her face, sometimes touching it, he went on,'Something, of which it is said that "her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life." She does not exactly "seek wool and flax"or if, it is Berlin wool, I believe; but it is certainly true that "she considereth a field, and buyeth it." And "she stretcheth out her hands to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple." I do not think she "makes fine linen;" nevertheless I hope it will be true that "she looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness." And if all her household are not "clothed in scarlet," she is very fond of wearing it herself.'

Wych Hazel listened with eyes looking down, and lips that parted yet did not speak. But now they curled unmistakeably.

'Ha, ha!' she laughed. 'What a mixed piece of fact that is! past, present, and future, in one grand conglomerate. Do you suppose I shall ever again have a chance to dabble in land? And I thought you had ruled out the 'silk and purple'?'

'Did you? I suppose, in Old Testament language the silk and purple means that she was suitably dressed.'

'Scarlet ditto. But I do not know what 'spoil' can mean. If it said 'supervision,' I could understand that.'

'Spoil means, profits and honours.'

'That makes no sense of the rest of the verse.'

'Excellent sense. The heart of her husband hath such a trust in her, that he can afford to dispense with what makes other men rich.'

'Ois that the way you put it. Romantic, but not practical,' said Hazel, arching her brows. 'It might be so, but he would not find it out. Now come and see the house.'

'I will go and see the house,' said Rollo, speaking with a cool business tone now. 'In fact I suppose I should like to go anywhere where you would go before and open the doors. But what is your thought, Wych?'

'Only a small ceremony of investiture. I want to take you over my haunts,and leave you in possessionof them, and any small facts you may find there.'

But taking one of her hands and holding it, Rollo neither moved towards the door himself nor let her.

'What is going to become of you,' said he, 'after you have left me in possession of your haunts?'

'I shall linger round to do all the mischief I can,after the fashion of abdicators.'

'In that case, what is going to become of me?' said he, not changing his position.

'I have no idea! I feel fearfully like myself since I came home.'

'Do you! And what do you expect me to do with your 'small facts'? Are they kittens?'

'No. Store them up for reference when I am hard to understand.'

'I do not want any references on that chapter. What are your small facts?'

'Little hints of how I have lived,and with what atmosphere and influences. Specimens of the soil wherein Wych Hazel grew to be "all hat and bushes." '

'And when did she abdicate?' said Rollo, bringing both arms round her now.

'Othe precise day does not matter,' said the girl, as a very 'precise' day last winter came full into view. 'Dates are useless things.'

'Tell me!' said he softly. 'When did you abdicate?'

'You mean' she said, hesitating, with her eyes on the ground.

'What you mean.'

'But Olaf' Hazel left her protestation unfinished. 'I suppose, really, it was a year ago,' she said, not looking at him. 'Only that week before Christmas I was worriedand of course I was full of freaks. And soI felt as if I was doing every thing for the last time.' Hazel hung her head, leaving the 'freaks' to their fate.

'How 'for the last time'?' said Rollo, with provoking apparent obtuseness.

'Ah!' Hazel exclaimed,then again submitting to circumstances,'My will had been the law of the houseand the peopleand of myself.Do you understand, sir?'

'Where were your guardians?' said Rollo with cool self-command.

'In my way just often enough to give zest to all other times and places.'

'And what is your opinion of the one guardian you have left? just as a curiosity, I should like to hear it.'

'He gave so fine a comparative description of himself beforehand,' said Hazel with the laugh in her voice. 'It would be quite presuming to suppose he does not mean to act up to it.'

Dane was silent, perhaps considering how he should answer her; for loosening one hand, he stood pushing back the thick curls from her face, looking down at it thoughtfully. Then in the same tone he had used before, he asked, "if she had not learned love's liberty yet?"

'In what sense?' she said, after a moment's hesitation.

'In the sense of being rather more a free and independent sovereign than at any previous time of your life.'

Hazel shook her head. 'If you make me go into that,' she said, 'I shall surely say something you will not understand. I have been as full of freaks this winter as ever in all my life before.'

'I am moved with curiosity to hear what you can say that I shall not understand.'

'I will not gratify you this time, if I can help it,' said Hazel laughing a little. 'Somebody must be headthat is plain, isn't it? and if it is you, it is not I. And before Christmas just that last part got hold of me,and since Christmas'

'Finish it! Since Christmas?'

'Since Christmas I have taken the first part into consideration,' Hazel said demurely.

Perhaps Dane thought illogical treatment was the best, or his patience gave out; for he answered with passionate kisses all over Hazel's face.

'My little Wych!' said he'do you think you are less head at Chickaree than you used to be?'

She answered shyly, arching her brows. 'Yes. Of course.'

'Don't you like it?' said he audaciously.

'That? No. I think not. Why should I, if you please?'

'You are head, just because I am head. More than ever; because you have my strength to back your decisions. Now let us go, wherever you want opt take me.'

Wych Hazel's lips curled in a pretty laugh.

'There are two ways of 'backing' a decision,' she said. But then she moved off, and led the way through all the long-unused part of the great house. An old office room, with leather-covered chairs, and empty inkstands, and dry pens, and forgotten day-books of forgotten days! Suites of guest chambers, reception rooms, and music room, and rooms of every sort. Broad bits of hall led to them, and narrow entries, and unexpected stairways: the old bolts turned slowly; the door knobs were dim with the mists of long ago. Old portraits looked down on them suddenly, here and there; the two bright young figures sprang out anew from mirrors that for years had seen nothing but darkness. Wherever they went they opened a window, throwing back blind and shutter; and the spring sunshine streamed in, fresh and gladsome, making the dust of years look even solemn in its still quiet. It was a labyrinth of a house!and Hazel tripped along, in and out, as if she knew it all by heart; with only words of explanation, until suddenly she opened the door into a round apartment at the foot of the flagstaff and the top of the house. The room was nearly all windows , and the waving shadow of the blue banner curled and played in the sunlight upon the floor.

Nearly all: only four broad pannels broke the lookout, one on either side. Hazel laid her hand upon Rollo's shoulder, and softly led him round. The first pannel held two full-length portraits; a stately pair of olden time, in old-time dress; the founders of the house. The ruffles and lappets and powder and hoop told of long ago. Of later date, yet still far past, were the next two; short waist and slim skirt and long silk stockings and small clothes; and curious look of Wych Hazel herself in the lady's face. Hazel's own father and mother came next; and then she passed round to the fourth pannel, which was but half filled. A full length of herself had apparently held first place there; certain marks on the wall told of removal to the second place, where it was now. Hazel paused before the empty side of the pannel.

'You see your duty,' she said with a laugh. 'It is a rule of the house. Now come and look at the view.'

'I think we'll break the rule, Hazel. Why was I never here before?'

'This was one of my particular haunts,so I kept the key. Look, there is Morton Hollow, off that way, where the smoke floats up. And Crocus and the church spires shew from here. And there comes in the road by which you drove me home that very first day. I have lived a great many hours up in this place, with the old portraits.'

On the whole, it was rather an eerie thing to have one's 'haunts' in such a rambling, half-shut up, untenanted old house. One could imagine the loneliness which had followed her about sometimes. Dane took the effect, standing there in the Belvidere; however his words were a very practical question'why his picture should take her side of the pannel?'

'If you look at the order in which the others stand, you will see it is your side,' said Wych Hazel. 'I put mine there in a mood,when I meant to be head always.'

'Two heads are better than one,' said Dan carelessly.

'YesI may be good for consultation.'She stood there, half behind him, her hand laid lightly on his shoulder, looking off with a smile in her eyes toward Morton Hollow. Had he not always had his own way, already?

'Olaf,' she said suddenly, 'if I had been the Duchess May, what would you have done?'

'I'll think of that,' said he laughing, 'and tell you when I come home to-night. For I must go, Hazel.'

It was a long day before Rollo got home again. Not spent entirely alone by Hazel, for Dr. Arthur came to see his patient, and she had both gentlemen to luncheon. Mr. Heinert proved himself a very genial and somewhat original companion. If he had ever been disheartened on account of his illness, that was all past now; and the simplicity, vivacity, and general love of play in his nature made a piquant contrast with Dr. Arthur's staid humour and grave manliness. He talked of Rollo too, whom he loved well, it was plain; he talked of Gttingen; he talked in short till Arthur ordered him back to his rooms and forbade him to come out of them again even for dinner that day.

And then, as the sharp spring day was growing dusk, the clatter of the horses' hoof beats was heard again before the door. Dan had got home. He and Hazel had dinner alone; with endless things to talk about, in the Hollow and at home; and after dinner the evening was given to one of Dor's great works of illustration, which Hazel had not seen. Slowly they turned it over, going from one print to the next; pausing with long critical discussions, reading of text, comparison of schools, and illustrations of the illustrations, drawn from reading and travel and the study of human nature and the knowledge of art. A long evening of high communion, wholly unhelped by love-making, although it wanted, and they knew it wanted, no other beside themselves to make it perfect.

Perhaps some consciousness of this was in Hazel's mind, as they stood together over the books after they had risen to leave them.

'Sir Marmaduke,' she said suddenly, 'would it tend to your comfortor discomfortto have people here?'

'Both,' said Dane laconically.

'I foresee that you will live in a mixed state of mind then!' said Hazel. 'I am afraid I shall have to be asking people all the time.'

'Whom do you want to ask?' Rollo enquired in some surprise.

'Guess! I should like to get your idea of me,' she said smiling.

'Mr. Falkirk?'

'No!'with a great flush.

'I would try to endure Mr. Falkirk. But I do not at this moment think of any other human being I could endure,besides Hans Heinert.'

'Wellthere it is,' said Hazel, impressively, very busy at taking the measure of his arm just then with her little fingers.

'I do not know. Perhaps not. Let us hear.'

'Olaf,' she said, softly now, 'is not this big empty house a 'talent?' And if it is, you know it must be increased by 'trading.' And I can think of no way but to make it reach out over heads thatfor any reasonneed shelter. One would want to be able to say'Lord, thy house has become ten houses'or a hundred, if it would stretch so far!'

'Go on,' said Dane, his eyes sparkling and growing soft, both at once. 'Who is to be your first guest?'

'She will not trouble you. It is only a poor little embroiderer down at Crocus who is dying for rest and good living. Dr. Arthur told me; and I am going to bring her here for awhile. But thereit seems as if I could not help hearing of things now!' said Hazel, again with a half laugh. 'If it was a sick or over-worked guest of some other sorts, they must come where you would see them. So what am I to do?'

'I can stand seeing them,' said Dane, watching her.

'But if there was always somebody needing fresh air and dainties,' said Hazel, looking up wistfully. 'Then you would never see me and I should never see youexcept across other people. Must I give that up too?'

'No,' said her husband laughing. 'Where did you get all those "mustesses"as Dingee would express it?'

'If there were always some one else on hand.'

'The house is big enough for them and us too. I am glad I went over it this morning.'

'Yes, big enough for anything,' said Hazel eagerly. 'But then at mealsin the evening.Just when the mills and I do not come into competition!'

Dane smiled now very brightly. 'I will have nothing come in competition with you,' said he. 'Except duty sometimes. And this is not duty. Fit up some of those untenanted rooms, and let them be homes for whoever needs them. And let all such guests be entirely free, and at home, and served each with his meals in his own apartment, except when you choose to ask them to your's. That would sometimes be and sometimes not be; but the sanctity of our own home must be preserved. Do you not think so?' he added gently.

'O if we may!You know much more about it than I do. But suppose somebody sick at heart, or mind-weary? You see I know about that,' said Hazel, her girlish face all wistful again. 'I thought the loneliness was often the chief thing.'

'Let them have drives, and flowers, and books; rest and leisure; the sight of you occasionally; and now and then an invitation to dinner.'

'That might do. I could see them when you are away. Olaf, I have been thinking how I can possibly invest all this money-power you have put in my hands.'

'Wych, it will flow away with the speed of mountain brooks; and in as many and as inevitable channels.'

'But I want to know where it goes. And I have been studying the question out. I want to send some of it everywhere, and take up bonds all over the world!'

'That greed will make you at last learn economy!' said Dane smiling.

'Will it? I do not know. You mean that I cannot reach round the world, even with ten thousand a year? But if all hands are stretched out, they will meet and so go round. To be sure, everybody cannot afford so much,' said Hazel thoughtfully; 'and so my hands must reach just as far as they possibly can.'

'Ten thousand a year has more to fall back upon,' Dane suggested.

'Yes. I am talking of my power,' said Hazel with a laugh. 'You see I have been reading up, and listening, and thinking, all winter. All I find that the 'where,' is everywhere; and the 'how,' in every way; and the 'what'just "what she could." Then there is another thing But you are not obliged to listen to all this!' said Hazel, checking the flow of her projects.

'I think you must be coquettinglike Jeannie Deans when she goes over a bridge.'

'It was left for you to say that!' said Hazel with a glance. 'Nobody else ever did. HoweverI read a story once which I thought simply beautiful,and last night it suddenly announced itself as practical. You remember how pleasant it was last night?'

'I remember very well.'

'In my story the people gave up one evening a week. On that night they always had a particular good tea, and at least one invited guest. The head of the house brought home one of his deserving clerks, suppose,or perhaps some poor acquaintance who never sawpartridges, for instanceat any other time: somebody straitened in business and low in cash. Or he found at home, already arrived, a hard-worked teacher, or a poor girl left alone in the world with her needles and thread. But whoever it was, for that evening they were made to forget everything but pleasure.'

'One evening in a week,' repeated Dane. 'That is not much. You and I have given a great deal more of our time than that,often, to the German, for instance.'

'It might seem 'much'with some people,' Hazel said thoughtfully. 'But it would be right to do.'

'Duchess, it would not be disagreeable. It is a good plan. Then one evening in the week we will invite our poor friendshave them to dinner and give them a good time. But for the rest, Hazel, except in particular instances, it will be best on every account to leave them to themselves; those who happen to be in the house, I speak of now. With books, and good care, and all comforts around them, and the freedom of the grounds, and drives when that would be needful. Nothing but necessity would make it right or expedient to have our home privacy broken up.'

'Our home privacy'how new and sweet and strange the words sounded! A sense of all the threethe novelty, the strangeness, the sweetnesswas in the shy brown eyes that looked up and then down; not willing to tell too much. How strange it was, in truth! she thought. Very natural that she should like the privacy, with him to talk to her; but how it should be chosen by him, with only such a wild, wayward, unformed personage as herself,and again the eyes gave a swift glance, fraught with a little wonder this time. But then the strangeness fell back, and the novelty stood aside, and only the sweetness remained. Eyes might go down, and head bend lower, but lips were treacherous and told it all.

The eyes that looked read it, well enough. Yet with a man's wilfulness, drawing Wych Hazel into his arms and bending his face to hers, Rollo asked maliciously,

'Do you love me, Duchess?'

'Well,' said Hazel with demure, 'witchful' face and voice, 'I suppose so. Just a little more than you do me.'

Rollo took laughing revenge for this statement, but otherwise did not attempt to combat it.

'Have you worked your way out of the puzzle you were in the morning?'

'It is not a puzzle. It should be, I think, if nobody were head.'

'Ah!' said Rollo, very tenderly, if there was still a spice of mischief in it. 'You have found out then the solution of Dr. Maryland's old paradox"Love likes her bonds"?'