The Gold of Chickaree Part 79

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 Dore's great works of ill.u.s.tration, 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 ill.u.s.trations of the ill.u.s.trations, 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 comfort?or discomfort?to 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.'

'Well?there 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 that?for any reason?need 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 there?it 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 you?except 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 meals?in the evening.?Just when the mills and I do not come into compet.i.tion!'

Dane smiled now very brightly. 'I will have nothing come in compet.i.tion 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 sanct.i.ty 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 coquetting?like Jeannie Deans when she goes over a bridge.'

'It was left for you to say that!' said Hazel with a glance. 'n.o.body else ever did. However?I 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 saw?partridges, for instance?at 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.'

'd.u.c.h.ess, it would not be disagreeable. It is a good plan. Then one evening in the week we will invite our poor friends?have 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 three?the novelty, the strangeness, the sweetness?was 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, d.u.c.h.ess?'

'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 n.o.body 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"?'

Hazel laughed a little, colouring too.