The Gold of Chickaree Part 4

? "Do you really _never_ waltz?" he said, as we pa.s.sed up and down.

I told him no.

? "But why not?" I said, one of my guardians disapproved of it.

? "Is he here to-night?"??No.?

? "Then, he will never know what you do." I said then, that I had promised.

? "Then it was not for my own pleasure I had given it up?" I said, no.

? "Didn?t I sometimes wish for the pleasure again?" Sometimes, I confessed, when I heard the music.

? "Had I promised for always?" No.

? "O well!?it was very easy to forget the precise date." ?I said?

(here for an instant a flush came) ?that I had not forgotten it.?

?We were standing just then by the open lawn and the circle of dancers; and?I think?my foot stirred a little, answering the measure if a new waltz which the band struck up. In an instant, before I had time to think or speak, he had whirled me off among the crowd. So much taller than I, so much stronger, so skilled a dancer, that at first I could only go where I was taken, obliged to keep the step, in my own self-defence. One hand of course he held; but the other?did not?touch him. And, presently, I made him let me go. But (we had gone so fast) not till we had taken rather more than one round, I think, I am not quit sure. And I always mean to tell you.??The voice fell a little, breaking off short.

She had not looked at him once since he came in; she did not look now, to see how her story was received, but sat still, feeling as if her very life were at stand. His face had changed notably as she went on; its burden of grave care cleared away; his brow grew full of light; the eyebrows came into their wonted line; but Rollo?s eyes were the eyes of a man whose soul is on fire. He stood breathlessly at first, then sitting down beside the girl got possession of one of her hands, but only so speaking his sympathy or eagerness; till as she finished he brought it to his lips, or rather bowed his lips to it and kissed the little hand over and over. He made no other answer; he said no word at all, till the dark flush which had kindled in his face at her story a little faded away. Then, still holding her hand perhaps unconsciously close, he said, low enough,

?And what about the guardians.h.i.+p, Hazel??

The girl was in that state when to withstand or to bear seems equally difficult: there is no strength for either; and the colour which flitted over her face at his demonstrations was less of shyness than of intense feeling. It all went now, at his words.

?I thought,? she said (the words came too quick, but she could not help it) ?that you had resigned, Mr. Rollo.?

Rollo got the other hand into his keeping, and merely inquired in the same tone ?what she wanted him to do??

?I used to want you to trust me. But it would not be any use now.?

Rollo?s lips touched her hand again, both hands. ?What about the guardians.h.i.+p, Hazel?? he repeated, with a glow and sparkle of the gray eyes, which yet had an odd veil of softness over them. But a man will be a man. I am afraid Rollo was smiling at the same time.

If anything could be called clear in Hazel?s mind, at that minute of supreme and universal confusion, it was, that belonging to somebody was getting to be much more than an idea. And that Mr.

Rollo should merely pay her the compliment of requesting to have the fact put in words, might be highly characteristic on his part, but was not exactly composing on hers. How could she think, or speak, without even one hand free? And droop her head as she might, what could the soft falling hair do, but touch up the beautiful flushes which Hazel felt, if she did not see? Her words, when they came, went to a very self-evident point.

?But?if you wanted it?why did you give it up??

?Give up?what?? came with undoubted astonishment from Rollo?s lips.

?You stayed away?? said the girl, under her breath.

?I have come back. And I want my sentence.?

In a sort of desperation, Hazel gathered up her courage, as if realizing that she was face to face with the one question of her life, where she must risk anything but mistakes.

?But,? she said,??but, Mr. Rollo,?you did not mean to want it.

When you stayed away.?

He laughed. ?Look here!? said he, ?I want it now, Hazel. I?ll stand all your questions, after you have answered mine.?

?I think mine come first,? she said softly,?and something of the sorrow which had hung about the questions crept into her voice.

?Because, there might be?at least, there might have been?things which I could not explain. And then?as you could doubt me once, you would again. And I could not bear that twice!? said Hazel, with a sudden quickness which told more than it meant. Nerve herself as she would, her hands were trembling now.

Rollo was not a man of more than average patience, sometimes.

Nevertheless, though sorely tempted, he controlled the desire to give her kisses instead of rebukes, and answered quietly and gravely:

?I took your own word once against yourself. I will never do it again, Hazel! So take care what you say to me. Have you nothing to say to me now??

If she had, it was not forthcoming.

?About the guardians.h.i.+p, Hazel??

She hesitated a little?not much; thinking of the face she dared not look at, and which she had scarcely seen for a year; answering then with a grave quietness which again was very like herself, where deep feeling was at work; the girlish voice falling and trembling just a little:

?If you want it?you can have it, Mr. Rollo.?

He took her in his arms then, very tenderly and gravely, kissing her on lips and cheeks with kisses which seemed to tell of a wish to indemnify himself?and her too,?for the last three weeks; but then, having got what he wanted, for several minutes thereafter spoke not; partly for his own sake perhaps, partly for hers. A stillness more mighty than words, and quite beyond their sphere.

When he did speak again, it was in a different key.

?How comes your hair to be wet??

?Mine? O?!? said Hazel, starting,??It is nothing but a little water.?

?No,? said Rollo laughing, ?nothing else. The question is, how came a little water on your hair??

?What a question! It was put there. And if you want to know why, I will tell you. On purpose.?

?Who did it??

But that answer was slow to come. ?Gyda,? she said at last.

'Gyda!' echoed Rollo, starting up a little, and removing Wych Hazel to a little distance from him, that he might look in her face better. 'For what purpose has Gyda been putting cold water on your hair?'

'O?! I was tired when I got here,' Hazel said, trying to look up and laugh, and somehow failing. 'And?and?And it does not signify the least in the world now.'

Rollo looked at her a minute silently, and then demanded imperiously to know '_what_ didn't signify?'

'Being faint is nothing,' she said. 'At least, after you have got over it.'

'What made you faint?' in the same tone.

Now Hazel had no mind to go into that; partly for the intrinsic merits of the case, but also with a growing consciousness that with those waves of trouble which had ebbed away so fast her strength was going too. That false strength of tension and self-control, by means of which she had lived and held her head up, through all these last weeks. Even excitement was giving way to reaction; and Hazel dreaded lest, before she knew it, she should break down; lest, before she could hinder it, that wilful fountain of unshed tears might insist on having its way. She knew from old experience what _that_ meant; but (except for the slight specimen before Prim's eyes) n.o.body had ever seen her in one of her tear-storms, and she did not mean that any one should. And at the same time, belonging to somebody puts hindrances in the way of unseen escape; and the next thing would be, that some tender word or touch would find its way to the very depths which had been so lonely and sweep away all her defences. Then there was the walk! She answered, studying her case,?

'I think, two or three things. But let me go now, please, Mr. Rollo.

I must go home,?it is late.'

'Let you go?' said he, in a curious, considerative way, as if studying several things.