The Gold of Chickaree Part 48

'I suppose they can,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k laughing, 'but this is a good time too. You must have your cake.'

'There will be no dress to stand with it,' said Hazel. 'The cake will feel lonely?like me.'

Mrs. Byw.a.n.k sighed a little, stroking the pretty head.

'My dear,' she said, 'you will be dressed, whatever you wear.'

'Can you guess how?' said Wych Hazel. 'I have not heart to put on a white dress. And I could not get a new one here, if I wanted it,?

and I could not have it made up, if I did. And I wouldn't, if I could.'

'No,' said the old housekeeper, 'so my dear mistress said. "Byw.a.n.k, it will be dreary work for my little Wych to choose her own wedding dress all alone. I must get it for her." Then she sat and thought awhile?"No," she said,?"the white would turn yellow, and the dark would fade." And she stopped for a good while then,'

said the old housekeeper in a trembling voice; 'but by and by she spoke up, soft and tender?"Byw.a.n.k, if it is so,?if it should be so,?tell her to take some one she has; and give her my veil.?And when she is wrapped in my love?and Dane's love?she will not mind the dress." And you were asleep on her lap all the while, my dear.'

Hazel was sobbing quietly in the old housekeeper's arms before the words were ended; but then she rose up, and kissed Mrs. Byw.a.n.k on both cheeks, and went away.

And for awhile she felt better,?tears and coaxing can sometimes do much. She went to bed and to sleep, prepared to wake up next morning and do her duty, and be a pattern of all the wise, steady, and practical virtues. Instead of which, Miss Wych opened her eyes upon more freaks than had come at her call for many a day.

It was clear, sharp, winter weather, without snow; and the first fancy that seized the girl, even while she was dressing, was to spend every minute of spare time in the woods, while still they were hers. No use to reason with herself, or refute such a statement of things,?out she must go; and out she did?every possible bit of the next three days. Too conscious to let any one know where she was, not liking to have even Lewis look on; she would elude Mrs.

Byw.a.n.k, and post Lewis in some good open spot where he could walk himself warm and be within hailing distance. Then she would wander off, her whistle at her belt, and roam about from tree to tree and rock to rock of her beloved woods, coming home so tired!?Always in time for Rollo, if he was expected, never seeing any one else.

Then, except when he was there, she never sat a minute in the red room, though the fire was made there regularly, but sometimes she would wander over the old house in like manner, if the weather kept her indoors; sitting up late and rising up early, as if she grudged every minute spared from these last days. It was not good for her, this way of going on, and did by no means tend to steadiness of nerves; but no one knew who could interfere, and this time Mrs. Byw.a.n.k would not tell. She did all the worrying to herself, with a sore heart.

It was a sore heart her young lady took with her in her wanderings,?in all her life Wych Hazel had never felt so utterly alone. No wonder she was grave when anybody saw her; no wonder reserve seemed to grow and deepen as Christmas came near. And there was another disappointment: the pretty Christmas doings of which she had thought so much, had lost all interest now. She had written one order and given others concerning supplies for the Charteris men; but all like a machine, with no pleasure nor life. Nothing was _her_ doing any more,?what did it matter? And when in a quiet moment, at night perhaps, she would get hold of herself, and look at her own goings on; then it turned all to falsehood and treachery and every other hard name she could think of, until Hazel felt as if her cup of troubles was quite running over; and that if Rollo _could_ know, he would never want to set eyes on her again. Ought she to tell him? Tell him what??that he was the very centre of her life, only unhappily not just now a centre of rest. That was the sum of it all, when she footed things up; and no shyness nor freaks nor self-will would change _that_. The mere fact that there was no one else in the world, for her, made her cling to the very sound of his name, and so seem shyer?as he said?than any bird that ever flew. It was to be hoped, in these days, that he was good at interpreting negatives, and reading things upside down, for not much else came to his eyes. Only somehow she so far managed herself, that no slightest roughness ever came out towards him. A little abruptness now and then,?otherwise the extremest grave reserve, but graceful to a point.

He was pretty good help. Wych Hazel did not, it is true, see very much of him; the short days were full of business in the Hollow and he could not always get away; however he managed to come to dinner several times that week. And then he was full of talk and interest, full of quiet care and attention, but as calm and unconscious, seemingly, as if he had never heard of his wedding day. Only, Wych Hazel felt more and more in his manner that quality of reverential tenderness, which is the crowning grace a man can shew to a woman, and which a man never shews to any woman but one. It marks her as invested with a kind of halo in his eyes; as sacred and separate from the common world for evermore; while it is itself a sort of glory of division between her an them, even in the apprehension of the same world.

CHAPTER XXIII.

FOR BETTER FOR WORSE.

The sun of that short Christmas day was already dipping behind the tall Chickaree woods, laying bars of light and threads of gold where once green leaves had been, when Dr. Maryland's little sleigh came jingling up the long hill road to the door of the house.

There had been a heavy fall of snow two days before, and wanderings and rides?and everything but sleighing?had been effectually stopped. Only the doctor and his two daughters were in the sleigh; for Dr. Arthur was helping his friend in the Hollow, to appear with him by and by at dinner-time. But this day Wych Hazel did not come running to meet them, as sometimes. The ladies were ushered and waited on by Phoebe in one of the state rooms; and Dr. Maryland was taken care of in another to match, so full of wax candles and firelight and cheval gla.s.ses, that whether it was himself or the attendant that confronted him at every turn, the doctor could hardly tell. For though there was lingering sunlight still out of doors, shutters were closed and candles lighted all over the house, in every open room but Wych Hazel's own. In her special room of rooms and retreat of retreats upstairs, the afternoon sun came glinting in as long as it would, and for a successor had only the twilight. And there she knelt by the window, gazing out on the fired tree tops, and the gathering shades, till she heard the sleigh bells come. Yes, till she heard the steps go down the staircase, and the door of the great drawing-room open and close behind her guests. O if Mr. Falkirk was there! she thought. And then came Phoebe with a message, to know if Mrs. Boerresen might see her. Gyda was at once asked to come upstairs.

Hazel met her standing, in the middle of the room. It was in half gloom by this time; but even by the faint light Hazel could see the glitter of the embroidery on the Norwegian jacket. Gyda was in great state. The fair, mild, old face Hazel could not well see; the voice was its fit interpreter. Gyda came forward and kissed her hand.

'How is my dear lad's lady to-night?'

The adjective did double duty; but the tone was unmistakeably tender and anxious. Hazel had met her with both hands stretched out; now she drew her along gently to a chair.

'Sit down,' she said. 'I can be spared a few minutes.' But she herself stood still, keeping fast her hold. 'I am glad you have come. Are you well??after all that fatigue?'

'Doesn't my lady know, there is no evil to them that trust in Him?'

'Yes.'

'It is a glad day for me, my dear; but I know the heart of a young maiden, and that it's not altogether a glad day for you. Can my lad's old nurse be any use? He told me to see if I could; that's why I'm bold to ask.'

Hazel pa.s.sed her little fingers softly over Gyda's hand; she did not speak at once.

'Perhaps?after dinner. Will you sit here after dinner till I come?

Now I must go.'

Hazel put her visiter in Mrs. Byw.a.n.k's charge, and giving herself no time to think ran down stairs.

The great drawing-room was all ablaze, with hickory sticks and wax candles, and the reflected sheen from old chairbacks, and bra.s.s andirons, and silver sconces. The turkey carpet on the floor alone absorbed and hid the light. Into this glow came Wych Hazel suddenly and softly. She was in one of her brilliant toilettes to- night; one that made Mrs. Coles open her eyes, and forget for a minute to open her mouth; and must have plunged Prim in a puzzle. One vivid spot on either cheek, and the silky hair in curls and waves and rings of its own making, and the brown eyes looking somewhere where you could not follow,?it was better than a picture to see her, it was almost like music to hear her tread.

But old admirers of Miss Kennedy knew well, that a brilliant toilette did not bespeak the lady to be easy of access. So it was to- night; she was unapproachable. It was like looking at the fire through a gla.s.s screen. Yet she was very affectionate to Primrose, a little stately to Mrs. Coles; and gave Dr. Maryland's hand a grip of her small fingers which would have gone to his heart had he known what it meant.

'My dear!' said Mrs. Coles, 'you look as if you expected a party. It isn't true, is it? I thought we were asked to just a family gathering.'

'I expect only the gentlemen from the Hollow,' said Wych Hazel.

'Prim, are you quite warm?'

'It makes me warm only to look at you,' said prim admiringly. 'Oh Hazel, you do know how to dress _beautifully_.' Prim's eyes were wondering as well as admiring, and a trifle speculative also.

'It is of no use to dress for gentlemen, Miss Kennedy,' said Prim's sister, shaking her head, the fair bandeaux of which were in excellent order. 'They never know what we have on. It is mortifying?but it's a fact.'

'Facts about oneself often are,' said Hazel. 'But fiction comes in to set things straight.'

'I am thinking,' said Mrs. Coles, in a half whisper and with a smile, 'how Dane's principles will harmonize, by and by, with Hazel's practice. Will he hold himself responsible, Prim, do you suppose??or will he console himself with the reflection that he cannot help it? Though if Dane Rollo does _that_, it will be the first time in his life. What are his notions about dress, now-a-days, Miss Kennedy? has he revealed them to you yet? I don't see any change in his own.'

'I think I know more of my own notions,' said the girl. 'Dr.

Maryland, you have taken the very hardest chair in the room! This is the one you ought to have, by me.'

'You have a pretty house, my dear,' said the old doctor as he obediently made the change. 'I never saw it look prettier than it does to-night. A handsome old house! I hope Dane won't want to make any changes here. If he does, don't let him, my dear.'

'He won't,' said Prim. 'What an idea, papa! Dane has some sense.'

'When anybody gets in the spirit of change, though,' said Prudentia,?'you never know how far it will go. He may think one end of the house suitable for a hospital; or build an addition for a refuge.'

'Prue, you do talk nonsense,' said her sister. 'Hazel wouldn't like that; and Dane wouldn't like what she wouldn't like.'

'Wouldn't he?' Mrs. Coles responded, with a little, most disagreeable laugh.

'Hazel will be able to regulate all that,' said Dr. Maryland. 'I don't think Dane would do what she would disapprove of. Ha, here they are!'

The jingle of the sleigh bells was heard pa.s.sing the windows; and for a minute all the party were silent. And the Christmas wind moaned in the chimney, as much as to say, 'I have seen many a Christmas here; you are all new comers, compared to me.' And Wych Hazel sat trying to manage herself, with her heart on the jump. She had been breathless and speechless during the late pleasant little discussion of her affairs, but now for the moment even Mrs. Coles was forgotten. The next thing was a message from Mrs. Byw.a.n.k; could Miss Wych step to the housekeeper's room for a moment? And in the housekeeper's room Hazel found only one person, and that one was not Mrs. Byw.a.n.k.

He met her eagerly, and at the same time with the manner of reverential tenderness she was accustomed to have from him lately; as if he remembered how alone she was, and that he must be mother and lover and all in one. And she did her best to give him a smile; but he got it most in the low-toned intonation, after all, with which she answered his question, how she was?

'You did not get the Christmas gift I had intended for you,' he went on; and if his eye had a sparkle of joy in it, his face and manner were as grave and quiet as consideration for her could have suggested. 'I have been disappointed, much to my mortification.

The carriage has not come. I had ordered a pony chaise to be here, which I thought you would like. The pony is on the stable.'

She glanced up at him and down, with quick changes in her face, but somehow words would not come. His words touched too many things,?and things would not bear touching, to-night. And she could not say a common "thank you"; she could not talk of the trouble he had taken; and pleasure was rather hull down at present, with some leagues of uncertain weather between. No use!?

'How could you find time?' she said timidly. But again the voice supplemented the words; and Rollo probably did not feel himself unthanked, for he went on with no want of content in his voice.