Wych Hazel Part 73

'Not quite, sir,'--but the old housekeeper hesitated. 'I am not sure about saying all I wanted to say.'

'Why?' said Rollo, smiling.

'It is a nice matter for one woman to talk about another woman,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k; and again she paused, evidently considering where care ended and treason began. 'I am a little uneasy, sir,--more than a little,--about some of these young men that come here so often.'

'On what account?' said Rollo shortly and gravely, with a tone that meant to get to the bottom of _that_ at least.

'Why,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k, glancing at him, 'chiefly because I think Miss Wych does not know in the least how often they come. Which, if she thought twice about any one of them, she would. And if I just hint it to her, she looks at me, and says--"Often?--when was he here before? I don't remember." All the same, _they_ don't understand that.'

'Well?' said Rollo. 'They are quite equal to taking care of themselves. Tell me of any danger to _her_.'

'It lies just there, sir. That she might be drawn on--in her innocence--to grant favours covering she knows not what. And sometimes that works trouble. Not caring two snaps for the men, it might never occur to her that they were favours--till the cobwebs were all round her feet. You know that, sir?'

Her hearer's brows contracted a little, and the grey eyes snapped; but he was silent.

'Now here's this fancy ball at Moscheloo,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k,-- 'with all sorts of charades that n.o.body ought to be in.'

'What is that? I have not heard of it.'

'I opine they have kept it rather close,' said the housekeeper,--'the day after to-morrow it comes off; and not a soul let in without a ticket. I hoped you might have one, Mr.

Rollo.'

'What about the charades?'

'I don't like them,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k decidedly,--'and they want Miss Wych in every one. So she's been getting her dresses ready, with my help, and telling me the whole story. It's "Mr.

May and I are to do this,"--and "While I stand so, Captain Lancaster stands so." The last of all is a wedding.'

'A wedding!' Rollo repeated. 'Is she to be in that too?'

'Of course,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k. 'And she said she tried ever so hard to get a ticket for me--that I might see her dressed up.

But Madame would not. So said I, "Miss Wych, I would rather not see you in _that_ dress, till it's the real thing."

' "O--take what you can get," she said, running the needle into her finger and making a great fuss about it.

' "My dear," I said, "marriage is much too sacred a thing, in _my_ judgment, to be turned into a frolic."

' "Well I didn't want to do it," she said, a little sober; "but Madame would not let me off." '

'Well?--' said Rollo, with a short breath, as the old lady again paused.

' "But Miss Wych," I said, "are you to act that with Captain Lancaster?"

'So she flamed out at that, and asked me if I thought she would?

' "Well," said I, "for my part, I don't understand how any young lady who expects to be married"--but she put her hand right over my mouth.

' "Now Byo, stop!" she said. "You know you are talking of _me_-- not of other young ladies."

' "Who is to be the happy man in this case?" said I, when she would let me speak. And she just looked at me, and wouldn't answer a word. So I went on. "I suppose I may talk about men, Miss Wych,--and I say I don't think the right sort of man, who meant some day to marry the right sort of woman, would ever want to go through the motions with everybody else."--She was silent a while,--then she looked up.

' "I wish I had heard all this before, Byo,--but it's too late now, for I've promised. And of course I never thought it all out so. You know I've never even seen a wedding. But is only Mr. Lasalle, in this case; and you know he has 'been though the motions' "--Mr. Lasalle, truly!' Mrs. Byw.a.n.k repeated in great scorn. 'A likely thing!'

'Going through the motions!' Rollo repeated. 'Do you mean that the wedding ceremony is to be performed?'

'It sounds so, to me,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k. ' "Well, my dear,"

said I,--"then I say this. No man who has been through the motions in earnest with one woman, ought to go them over in play with another."

'She looked up again,--one of her pretty, grave looks; and said slowly, as if she was thinking out her words: "Maybe you are right, Byo. I never thought about it. And of course _that_ sort of man never could."

' "What sort?" I said. "Then you _have_ thought about it, Miss Wych?"--Well, she was like a little fury at that,' said Mrs.

Byw.a.n.k, smiling at the recollection,--'as near as she can ever come to it. And she caught up her hat and went off; and called back to me that she meant to go through motions enough of some sort, to be ready for her lunch when she got home.--But I wish she was out of it, Mr. Rollo.'

Her hearer sat silent for a minute.

'Mrs. Byw.a.n.k, can you find Miss Hazel's ticket for this ball?'

'I daresay, sir. Would you like to see it?--she shewed it to me.'

'I would like to see it very much.'

The housekeeper went off, and presently brought back the little perfumed card, with scrolls and signatures, and 'Admit-- --' and 'Not transferable.'

'She puts her own name in this place before she gives it in,'

said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k.

The gentleman looked at the ticket attentively--then bestowed it safely in his vest pocket; as if that subject was disposed of.

'But Mr. Rollo!'--said the housekeeper in some consternation.

'What, Mrs. Byw.a.n.k?' he returned innocently.

'Miss Wych will never forgive me, sir!'

'What?'

'Why--for stealing her ticket and giving it to you, sir.'

'You have not stolen it. And you never meant to give it to me.

And she is not to know anything about it.'

'It feels like high treason!' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k. 'And she is certain to get another. But I'm sure I'd be glad there was some one there to look after things; for if she once got into that, and found young Nightingale or some of the rest with her, she'd be fit to fly. And there she comes, this minute.'

As they looked, Wych Hazel came out from the deep shadow of the trees that clothed this end of the garden approach; faultlessly dressed as usual, and with her ap.r.o.n gathered up full of flowers; and herself not alone. A young 'undress uniform' was by her side.

'Captain Lancaster,'--said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k.

They came slowly on, talking; then stopped where the road to the main entrance branched off,--the young officer cap in hand, extremely deferential. They could see his face now; handsome, soldierly, and sunburnt; with a pleasant laugh which came readily at her words. Her face they could not see, beneath the broad garden-hat. The gentleman touched his ungloved hand to Wych Hazel's little buff gauntlet; then apparently preferred some request which was not immediately granted; so gestures seemed to say. Finally he held out his hand again; and she took from her ap.r.o.n a flower and placed in it; and it looked as if fingers and flower were taken together for a second. It was a pretty scene; and yet Mrs. Byw.a.n.k sighed. Then with a profound reverence the young officer moved away, and Wych Hazel entered the side door. She came on along the pa.s.sage singing; trilling out the gay little lullaby by virtue of which Mrs. Byw.a.n.k had long ago earned her name.