Wych Hazel Part 71

But with that Hazel roused herself.

'You had better ask him anything you want answered,' she said.

'I think he has quite a genius that way.'

'What way? O, you know, friends, perhaps, _she likes it_. What way, Hazel?'

'Does he speak soft when he gives his orders?' said Kitty Fisher. 'Or does he use his ordinary tone?'

'And oh, Miss Kennedy,' said little Molly Seaton, 'isn't it _awfully_ nice to have such a handsome man tell you what to do?'

Now Hazel had been at her wits' end, feeling as if there was a trap for her, whatever she said or did not say. Pain and nervousness and almost fright had kept her still. But Molly's question brought things to such a climax, that she burst into an uncontrollable little laugh, and so answered everybody at once in the best manner possible. The sound of her laugh brought back the gentlemen too,--roaming off after their own ices,--and that would make a diversion.

But it came up again and again. It was to some too tempting a subject of fun; for others it had a deeper interest; it could not be suffered to lie still. Wych Hazel's ears could hardly get out of the sound of raillery, in all sorts of forms; from the soft insinuation of mischief in a mosquito's song, to the downright attacks of Kitty Fisher's teeth and Phinny Powder's claws. The air was full of it at last, to Wych Hazel's fancy; even the gentlemen, when they dared not speak openly, seemed in manner or tone to be commiserating or laughing at her.

'The diplomacy of truth!' said Mr. Kingsland to Mr. Falkirk, as Hazel pa.s.sed near them with Mme. Lasalle. 'I must believe in it as a fixed fact,--where it exists! I should judge, by rough estimate, that Miss Kennedy had been asked about fifty- five trying questions this day; and in not one case, to my knowledge, has her answer even clipped the truth. She is a ninth wonder,--and from that on to the twenty-ninth! With all her innocence and ignorance--which would not comprehend nine- tenths of what might be said to her, I do not know the man who would dare say one word which she should not hear!'--With which somewhat unusual expression of his feelings Mr. Kingsland took himself away, leaving Prim and Mr. Falkirk alone on the verandah.

But it was a rather weary-faced young hostess that wrapped Prim up, after that, and the lips that kissed her were hot.

Mr. Falkirk went down to his cottage and came back to breakfast the next morning, without having broached to his ward several subjects which stirred his thoughts. Finding himself in the fresh light of the new day, and in the security of the early morning, seated opposite Miss Hazel at the breakfast table, with the croquet confusion a thing of the past, he opened his mind.

'You had no wine yesterday, my dear, I observed.'

'No, sir. As I intended.'

'That is not according to custom--of other people.'

'It is my custom--henceforth,' said Wych Hazel.

'Are the reasons too abstruse for my comprehension?'

The girl looked up at him, her eyes kindling.

'Mr. Falkirk,' she said, 'if ever again a man gets a gla.s.s of wine from my hand, or in my house, I shall deserve to live that July night all over!'

Mr. Falkirk did not at all attempt to combat this conclusion.

He ate his toast with an extremely thoughtful face for some minute or two.'

'Suppose, by and by, there should be two words to that bargain?'

'Then there will be several more, sir,--that is all,' she said steadily, though her face glowed.

'You mean that you will fight for your position?'

'Inch by inch. Fight for it, and keep it.'

Mr. Falkirk's lips gave way a little, though with what expression it was impossible to determine.

'To remark that your position will be remarked upon as peculiar is, I am aware, to make a fruitless expenditure of words in your hearing, Miss Hazel. But it will not make much difference what you do, my dear. They will find the article, in its varieties, at every other house that is open to them.'

Mr. Falkirk was thinking probably of young men.

'Well, sir--I, at least, will have no part in making any man unfit to speak to a woman.'

Mr. Falkirk ruminated again, and then broke out:

'Why did not Rollo come with Miss Maryland yesterday?'

'I presume, because he did not want to come,--but perhaps you had better ask him,' said Miss Hazel.

'Why should I ask him?' returned her guardian, looking up at her. 'Has Mr. Rollo offended you, Miss Hazel?'

'I merely thought you wanted to know, sir. No,' she answered, to his last question. 'He was invited--if that is what you mean.'

'I fancied,' said Mr. Falkirk, looking puzzled, 'that in the general buzz of tongues yesterday--which is fit to confuse anything with more brains than a mosquito--I heard various buzzings which seemed to have reference to him. Perhaps I was wrong. I did not mean to listen, but if a fly gets into your ear it is difficult not to know it. Was I right, or was I wrong?'

'Right, I fancy, sir. Mr. Rollo's name is very often upon people's tongues.'

'What did they mean? What was it about?'

She hesitated a little.

'I daresay your opinion was correct, Mr. Falkirk, as to the meaning as well as the buzz. It is hardly worth bringing up again.'

If Mr. Falkirk had any roughness in his manner or in his composition, he had also and certainly a very gentle side of it for his ward. He looked at her again and dropped the subject. But he had got another. He waited a little before bringing it up.

'Another thing I heard confused my ideas, Miss Hazel. You must not wonder at me; you know, a bear _just_ out of winter quarters might well be astonished at coming into a garden full of crickets, and a little unable to distinguish one song from another. But it seemed to me that I heard something said--or alluded to--about your being unwillingly obliged to go home from somewhere. Can you give me any explanation?'

The pause was longer this time, the colour unsteady. Then she put both hands up to her forehead, pushing back the dark rings of hair with an impatient touch, and began, speaking low and rapidly, but straight to the point.

'I was invited to a garden party at Mrs. Powder's, and after I got there, found out that the invitation included a four-in- hand drive to Greenbush. And I went. And Mr. Rollo heard of my going, and followed me there with Primrose and Reo and the carriage, and made me come back.'--She had gone on, throwing in details, as if to prevent their being called for. Now the scarlet flush with which the last words were spoken faded away, and she was silent and rather pale.

I suppose Mr. Falkirk had done his breakfast. If not, he lost the last part of it. For as Wych Hazel stopped speaking he rose from the table and began to take turns up and down the room; scowling, it must be confessed, as if he would have rather liked an excuse to 'pitch into' his co-guardian. He said nothing for some minutes, and it was not necessary; his eyebrows were eloquent.

'A four-in-hand party!' he said at last. 'Who got it up?'

'Some of the four-in-hand club.'

'Who are they, Miss Hazel?'

'Mr. May, Captain Lancaster, Dr. Singleton,'--Hazel named over sundry names that were unknown to Mr. Falkirk.

'He's a bold man!' said Mr. Falkirk, probably not referring to any member of the club aforesaid. 'I wonder at his impudence.

But, my dear!--a four-in-hand party, and Greenbush at night,-- that was no sort of place for you to be! Do you know how these parties come home, who go out so bravely?'

'I knew pretty well, sir, how my party would,' said his ward.

'No you didn't. How should you know anything about it? The young mouse in the fable thought the cat was a very fine gentleman. Con--found him!' said Mr. Falkirk, stopping short, 'how did he know? Was he at the garden party at the Governor's?'

'No, sir.'