The Gold of Chickaree Part 3

'Suppose you complain, dear,' said the old woman, with a smile which was anything but unsympathetic. 'Complain, and make the worst of it; then we will know how to begin. Say all he has done, as bad as it is, and we will see what it means, maybe.'

The wistful eyes looked up at her, then down again. She answered softly:

'He thought, he had reason to think, that I had broken my promise.

And he did not wait, nor try, for an explanation. That is one thing.'

'How could he have reason to think that, my lady?'

'Because of something I could not help,' said Hazel. 'You know that can be,' she added with an appealing look, as if to see whether Gyda doubted her too.

'Did you speak to him?'

'He gave me no chance. I have not seen him since?since?he looked at me so,' said Hazel.

'Maybe he had his own part to bear,' said the old woman. 'But Olaf will be back again in a few days.'

'Yes,'?said the girl slowly,?'that makes no difference. He has given me up.'

'Love doesn't give up,' said Gyda. 'He asked me, a few days ago, to pray for him, that he might be strong to do right. I wot, it'll be an easier part then he thought of!'

But the words touched a sore spot. 'No,' the girl thought to herself.

'Love does not give up!' She sat very white and still. Then, after a while, looked up at Gyda?one of her fair looks.

'You did not know,' she said gently, 'that he was asking you to pray against me.'

Gyda met her eyes, first without replying; her hand left Wych Hazel's shoulder and came upon her hair, touching it softly. That old, brown, wrinkled face was so sweet and quiet that it seemed a very stronghold of comfort and counsel and help. Counsel and comfort came in a very simple form this time.

'Dear,' she said, in her slow utterance,?'he loves you.'

But Hazel was not inclined to debate that question with anybody but herself. She leaned her head back and shut her eyes, finding curious soothing in the touch of Gyda's hand. n.o.body ever touched her so in these days, and she had been very, very lonely.

Then suddenly she started up, sitting forward and speaking eagerly.

'You must not tell him!' she said; 'you must not even tell him that I have been here. You must not say one word. Promise me!'

'Till you tell him?' said Gyda placidly.

'Will you promise?' Hazel repeated. 'Things that cannot stand of themselves had better?fall.'

'What is it that cannot stand, dear?'

'I did not come here to talk about that,' said Hazel, laying her head back again. 'I came to talk about myself. Or to do something, besides think.'

'I'll hear,' said Gyda. 'Nothing's going to fall that ought to stand.

Talk, my dear.'

All the while she was standing just at Wych Hazel's shoulder, touching her head with a slight touch; in her face and voice the utmost soothing charm of tender tranquillity. She had been doubtless a Norwegian peasant woman, and had known little of what we call refining advantages in outward things; but love and peace and sympathy had made her wonderfully delicate and quick to divine the needs of those with whom she dealt. It was a hard little hand, but a very soft touch upon Wych Hazel's curls.

Furthermore, it was evident, that beyond her sympathy with her visiter's present distress, Gyda was not disturbed about the matter in hand.

'The days have been so long, all these weeks,' said Hazel. 'And the nights were longer than the days.'

'Ah, yes. And you couldn't trust the Lord with your trouble?'

'I think?I did try, sometimes,' said the girl slowly, 'but I do not quite know. I was in such confusion, and other things came in, and I was afraid of doing it?only to please him, because??'

'Eh,' said Gyda. 'Yes, to please who, dear?'

Hazel put up one little hand and laid it upon Gyda's, so giving her answer.

'Because,' she began again presently, 'I had thought?it had seemed as if?maybe?_that_ was the reason of it all. Do such things come upon people for doing wrong things, when they do not know they are wrong?'

'Mayhap,' said Gyda, who through the obscurities of this speech threaded her way to one thing only. 'It's only the straight way, dear, that has no crooks in it. But see?isn't my lad's lady in the straight way?'

'But I mean?I do not know how to tell you,' she said, covering her face with her hands. 'When he had grown so good?and I had not,?I thought, perhaps, that was the reason. I thought of it last winter, before this came; and I have never seen him since?but once. I might seem?different?to him, you know,' Hazel added, in her girlish way. Then she took her hands down and looked at Gyda, searching for her answer. But Gyda gently smiled.

'I think you'll soon know,' she said. 'Suppose you don't think any more about it, till he comes.'

Hazel was silent a few minutes, but thinking all the while as hard as she could. She was in no hurry now for Mr. Rollo to come; her dread of seeing him again was extreme. And by this time another matter claimed her attention, over and above everything else; she must get home while she could. If physical prostration and reaction went on at the rate they had begun, it would not take much longer to make the scramble over the hill a sheer impossibility.

'I must go,' she said abruptly. 'But you will let me come once more?'

Gyda was about to answer, when she turned her head sharply towards the door. Her ears caught a sound in that direction, and the next instant Wych Hazel's ears caught it too; the sound of steps, quick steps, a man's steps, coming along the flag-stones outside the cottage. A hand on the door, the door open, and Rollo himself was there.

CHAPTER IV.

ABOUT THE GUARDIANSHIP.

He came in with the same quick, energetic footstep, looking grave, certainly, but brown and ruddy, like a man with all his forces about him, and with a bright greeting ready for Gyda. And then his face changed suddenly, and his manner. He came up to Wych Hazel?s side, bent down to take her hand, and said with grave earnestness and all his wonted deferential gentleness,

?I am glad to find you here!?

One could almost have heard the bolts and bars with which, at the sound of his footsteps, the girl shut herself in. But all colour was shut off as well. She rose to her feet, laying one hand on the chair back to steady herself, and answered simply, ?I am just going.?

And she turned to Gyda. But Rollo prevented her.

?Won?t you sit down again?? said he. ?A minute or two? I have something to say to you, and now is the best time??

He turned to Gyda, but the old Norwegian was already leaving the room, and the two were alone. And perhaps to give her time?or himself?he stood for a moment still and thoughtful by the side of the fireplace. And Hazel, who had thought she would take the first moment that offered to clear her name of the blot left upon it, sat in a sort of spell, and could not speak.

?I want you,? he began at length, with that same grave gentleness; he had himself well in hand now;??I want you to give me, as a friend, some explanation of that which you told me the other day.?

?As a friend??he had not then forgotten the day of the month.

That was one pa.s.sing thought. And then, if Mr. Rollo had interest in new displays of character, he had a chance to prosecute the study, and see Wych Hazel as other people sometimes saw her; so far off she seemed in her reserve. This was not the sprite who had disputed his authority and pelted him with sharp speeches; nor the shy girl who had blushed if he but came near her; there was not even the faintest tinging of the cheeks, nor the least gleam from out the deep shadows of the eyes. Only in one way did the slightest agitation betray itself; but twice she began to speak, and twice could not command her lips; the third time she conquered them and went on. With down-looking eyes, and head a little bent, and hands quietly folded, as if they were too tired to hold each other in the old way, and that pathetic quiver still every now and then sweeping round her mouth and chin, Wych Hazel went straight to the midst of things, as if not daring to waste strength on preliminaries.

?Sir Henry Crofton had laid a wager?or vowed a vow?that he would not go back to England until he had waltzed with me. I saw him once or twice in the fall, and in town he came often to the house, and after that I met him everywhere. And he very often asked me to waltz. And I always refused.

?One night??she drew her breath, as if the words stifled her?then went on swiftly, as before, preventing all questions: ?One night, at Newport, we were both at an out-door party. There was music, of course; everybody was dancing. Except me. Sir Henry made his usual request, and then asked me to walk instead.