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'I am glad of it,' said Rollo half laughing. 'What hour shall I say?'
'Why none!' said Hazel emphatically, with a pa.s.sing thought of wonder at his obtuseness, though at the moment she was deep in her notebook. 'None, thank you.'
Rollo's eyes sparkled, as he stood behind her, and his lips twitched.
'Is that the way you used to handle Mr. Falkirk, when he expressed his wishes about some point of your action?'
'Mr. Falkirk was indulged with a variety of ways.'
'Have you got a variety in store for me?'
'For any deserving object?I am extremely impartial,' said Hazel turning a leaf.
'Won't you give me another variety then, this morning?' said he softly. 'Because I am not going to let you go out on foot to-day, Hazel.'
'Not _let_ me??' Hazel repeated, looking round from her notebook now to ask the question. There was no explanation in the face that confronted her, nor any consciousness of having said anything that needed it. Hazel looked at him for a second, open-eyed.
'What can you possibly mean?' she said.
'If it means interference with your pleasure, I am sorry.'
Probably something in face and figure made this reply more definite than the words, for Wych Hazel's face waked up.
'But it does!' she said. 'I told you so at first.'
'It would interfere with mine very much, to have you go as you proposed.'
'But that is simply!?' Hazel suddenly checked her rapid words, and brought her face back over the notebook again; bending down to hide the crimson which yet could not be hid.
'What is "simply"?' said Dane, touching his own face to the crimson. But Hazel did not speak.
'I must go, Hazel,' said he now looking at his watch. 'I have not another minute. I will send Byrom to you for orders.' And with a very gentle kiss to the bowed cheek as he spoke, he went off. And Hazel sat still where he left her, and thought,?with her face in her hands now. Thoughts, and feelings too, were in a whirl. In the first place,?no, there was no possible telling what came first. But was he going to direct every little thing of her life? Well, she had given him leave last winter, in her mind. That is, if he _would_ do it. But would he really? Somehow she had fancied he would not. She had fancied that?somehow?he would find out that she had a little sense, and trust to it. She felt so disappointed, and caged, and disturbed.?And then she had withstood him!?a thing he never pretended to bear. Maybe he had gone off disappointed, too. And one of her old saucy speeches had been on the tip of her tongue!?
and next time, as like as not, it would slip out, and what should she do then? What should she do now??go out as she was bid, like a good child? Hazel almost laughed at herself for the bound her mind gave, straight back from this idea,?which after all was the only one to act out. For the old sweetness of temper had taken to itself no edge, and the old dignity which had so often found its safety in submission did not fail her now. Nevertheless, Wych Hazel rose up and stood before the fire, knotting her fingers into various complications. Yes, it was her duty to go. But when Byrom knocked at the door, Hazel sprang away to the next room and sent her orders by Phoebe. Then, after the old comical fas.h.i.+on, she worked out her waywardness in every possible _proper_ way that she could. She put on one of her wonderful toilettes, and then went slowly down the broad stairs (thinking fast!)?and flashed out upon Byrom like a young empress in her robes. And a sinecure he had of it for the next few hours. To stand at the carriage door and receive the most laconic of orders; to see her pa.s.s from carriage to store and from store to carriage, erect and tall and stately, and with no more apparent notice of the icy sidewalks than if they had been strewn with cotton wool. If he followed close to pick her up, Wych Hazel took no notice and gave him no chance. In like manner she did her work with an executive force and gravity which made the clerks into quicksilver and drove one or two old admirers whom she met nearly frantic. They hailed her by her old name; and Hazel got rid of them she hardly knew how, except that it was in a blaze of discomfort for herself. And after that she kept furtive watch; quitting counters and stores, and rus.h.i.+ng up?or down?in elevators, after the most erratic and extraordinary fas.h.i.+on; a vivid spot on either cheek, and eyes in a shadow, and a mouth that grew graver every hour. O if she could but order the coachman to drive?anywhere?till she said stop!?but no such orders could go through Byrom; she must work off her mood at home. And so at last, in the darkest dress she had, Wych Hazel once more sat down before the fire, and put her face in her hands. All through the day, under and over everything else, the old shyness had green growing up, mixing itself with the new,?the old dread of having a man speak to her in the way of comment, with a thought of blame.
Would anybody do it now? So she sat until steps came to the door and the door opened; then she rose quickly up.
But the matter which had occasioned her so many thoughts, had scarcely given Rollo one; and it was plain he had fully forgotten it now in his gladness at seeing her again after the long day. His face had nothing but gladness; and as he took her in his arms she felt that the gladness was very tender.
'Work all done!' he asked.
'O no.'?Hazel was glad too. The day _had_ been long.
'But I am going to play to-morrow!'
'Well, what about it?'
'Work must wait. We have got a great deal to do. Don't you agree with me, that every full cup ought to flow over into some empty ones?'
'Instead of into its own saucer?' said Hazel, who was rather abstractedly brus.h.i.+ng off an imaginary grain of dust from his coat stuff. 'Perhaps it would be safe to allow that I do.'
'Well,' said Rollo laughing at her, 'there are plenty of empty cups.
How many can we fill to-morrow?'
'If you have been at work on that problem, no wonder you want play. How many??I do not know. How much too full is your cup to-night?'
'It feels like the widow's inexhaustible cruise of oil. And by the way, I believe that the store from which anybody may supply others, is inexhaustible. Now let us consider.' And he stood silent and thoughtful a few minutes, Hazel not interrupting him.
'I can tell you one thing,' he began again. 'Prudentia Coles would like a black silk dress; and she cannot afford it.'
'I certainly owe her that,' said Hazel,?'and a royal purple to boot.'
'How do you "owe" it?'
'For tipping my cup over, once. I wonder whether she thought I was too happy to be let alone?'
'Give her both the dresses, Hazel. _She_ is not a happy woman. It will fill her cup for the time being.'
'Then, if you talk of debts,' said Hazel, 'I owe Prim the greatest quant.i.ty of wholesome animadversion. It never was of the least use to me,?but she ought to be paid for it, all the same.'
'I suppose you deserved it,' said Rollo coolly.
'Do you?' said Hazel. _Had_ she? Her thoughts flew over the confusions of the day,?then before she began again, Rollo asked,
'Have you written to Mr. Falkirk, Hazel?'
'I? No. I have nothing to say to him.'
Rollo looked at her, first with a grave consideration, and then his lips twitched.
'Nothing to say to him?' he repeated.
'Nothing whatever.'
'Does it fall to me to instruct you in the proprieties? It is due to him to inform him that you are his ward up no longer; that you have done what he would very much have disapproved, and married me at a week's notice; which, you may tell him, was not at all your fault, and done princ.i.p.ally for the sake of the men in the Charteris mills. Don't you see, Hazel, that you ought to tell him all this?'
'No,' said Hazel, with one of her old witch looks flas.h.i.+ng out for a moment. 'If your right of way does not cover all the disagreeable business, I cannot see what use in the world I can make of it.'
'My right of way??' repeated Dane looking at her.
'Yes. The right to do what you please should be extended to take in all that I do not please.'
'Across all which of mine, _your_ right of way, I suppose, takes a zigzag track!'
'Underground.'
'It will be dangerous there!' said Dane, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng. 'For pity's sake, Hazel, keep it aboveground.'
'Collisions are bad things,' said Hazel,?'and switching off on a side track tries one's patience. But about Mr. Falkirk?there never was the least atom of father and daughter between us; he always kept me at arm's length. It was one of the trials of my life. And he has been just throwing me off more and more,?a year ago twenty sisters would not have made him leave me alone. And he said nothing but unpleasant things before he went,?and I should have to lay all the blame on you. And in short,' said Hazel summing up, 'he could not be angry with my letter, and he could with yours,?
which would comfort him up.'