DODGING.
It was no new thing for the young lady of Chickaree to come
home late, and dismiss her attendants, and put herself to bed;
neither was it uncommon for her to sleep over breakfast time
in such cases, and take her coffee afterwards in Mrs. Bywank's
room alone. But when the fog had cleared away, the morning
after Mme. Lasalle's ball, and the sun was riding high, and
still no signs of Miss Wych, then Mrs. Bywank went to her
room. And the good housekeeper was much taken aback to find
peasant dress and grey serge curled down together in a heap on
the floor, and Miss Wych among them, asleep with her head in a
chair. Perhaps that in itself was not so much; but the long
eyelashes lay wet and heavy upon her cheek,--and Mrs. Bywank
knew that token of old.
I am afraid some hard thoughts about Mr. Rollo disturbed her
mind, as she stood there looking. What use had he made of his
ticket to distress her darling?--she such a mere child, and he
with his mature twenty-five years? But Mrs. Bywank did not
dare to ask, even when the girl stirred and woke and rose up;
though the ready flush, and the unready eyes, and the grave
mouth, went to her very heart. She noted, too, that her young
lady went into no graphic descriptions of the ball, as was her
wont; but merely bade Phoebe take away the two fancy dresses,
and ensconced herself in a maze of soft white folds, and then
went and knelt down by the open window; leaning her elbows
there, and her chin on her hands. Mrs. Bywank waited.
'Miss Wych,' she began after a while,--'my dear, you have had
no breakfast.'
'I want none.'
'But you will have some lunch?'
'No.'
'My dear,--you must,' said Mrs. Bywank. 'You will be sick, Miss
Wych.'
'Don't _you_ say "must" to me, Byo!' said the girl impetuously.
But then she started up and flung her arms round Mrs. Bywank
and kissed her, and said, 'Come, let's have some lunch,
then!'--giving half-a-dozen orders to Phoebe as she went along.
But the minute lunch was over, Wych Hazel stepped into her
carriage and drove away. Not the landau this time, through the
September day was fair and soft; neither was the young lady
arrayed in any wise for paying visits; her white cloud of
morning muslin and lace, her broad gipsy hat, and gauntlets
caught up and carried in her hand, not put on,--so she bestowed
herself in the close carriage which generally she used only by
night. And the low-spoken orders to Reo were, to take her a
road she had never been, and drive till she told him to stop.
Then she threw herself back against the cushions, and buried
her face in hands, and tried to think.
If _that_ was to leave her 'practically to Mr. Falkirk,' her
knowledge of English was somewhat deficient. And if belonging
to somebody merely 'in idea' had such results!--but she was shy
of the 'idea,' blushing over it there all by herself as she
pushed it away. She was disappointed, there was no doubt about
that. Foiled of her plan, over which she had pleased herself;
for she had intended to give a 'no' instead of a 'yes' at the
right place in the charade, to the discomfiture of all
parties;--curbed by a strong hand, which she never could bear;
hurt and sorrowful that nobody would trust her with even the
care of her own womanhood.
'I wonder what there is about me?' she cried to herself, with
two or three indignant tears rushing up unbidden. 'As if I had
not had a sharper lesson the other night than any _he_ could
give!'--No, quite that; the sharpest dated further back; but
this would have been enough of itself. And what else was she
to do or not do?--she took down her hands, and crossed them,
and looked at them as she had done before the picture of the
'loss of all things.' These bonds did not feel like those; she
did not like them, none the less;--and--she wondered what was
his idea of _close_ guardianship? And had he made any
misstatements?--Reo drove on and on, till his practised eye saw
that to get home by tea-time was all that was left, and then
stopped and got permission to turn round.
But driving seemed to have become a sudden passion with Miss
Wych. She kept herself out, somewhere, somehow, day after day;
denied of course to all visitors, and of small avail to Mr.
Falkirk, except to pour out his coffee. Miss Kennedy was in
danger of creating a new excitement; being always out and yet
never visible; for one entertainment after another went by,
and brought only her excuses.
Either the driving fever cooled, however, or Wych Hazel found
out at last that even thoughts may be troublesome company; for
she began suddenly to surround herself with invited guests;
and one or two to breakfast, and three to dinner, and six to
tea, became the new order of things for Mr. Falkirk's
delectation. Some favoured young ladies even stayed over night
sometimes, and then they all went driving together. Mr.
Falkirk frowned, and Mrs. Bywank smiled; and cards accumulated
to a fearful extent in the hall basket at Chickaree.
Rollo among others had been discomfited, by finding the young
lady invisible, or, what was the same thing for his purpose,
visible to too many at once. This state of things lasted some
time, but in the nature of things could not last for ever.
There came a morning, when Mr. Falkirk was the only visitor at
the Chickaree breakfast table, and just as Mr. Falkirk's
coffee was poured out, Dingee announced his co-guardian.
Well--she knew it had to come; but she could have found in her
heart to execute summary justice on Dingee for the
announcement, nevertheless. Nobody saw her eyes,--and nobody
could help seeing her cheeks; but all else that transpired was
a very reserved:
'Good morning, Mr. Rollo. You are just in time to enliven Mr.
Falkirk's breakfast, over which he ran some risk of going to
sleep.'
Perhaps Mr. Rollo had a flashing question cross his mind,
whether he had not missed something through lack of a hunter's
patience the other night; but he was too much of a hunter to
do anything but make the best of circumstances. He shook hands
in precisely his usual manner; remarking that Mr. Falkirk had
not had a ride of four miles; took his breakfast like a man
who had; and only towards the close of breakfast suddenly
turned to his hostess and asked, 'How does Jeannie Deans
behave?'
Apparently Hazel's thoughts had not been held fast by the
politics under discussion, for she had gone into a deep grave
meditation.
'Jeannie Deans?' she said, with her face flushing all up
again. 'Why--very well. The last time I rode her.'
'When was that?'
'Monday, I think, was the day of the week; but I suppose she
would have behaved just as well if it had been Tuesday.'
'Then probably she would have no objection to Wednesday?'
'Other things being comfortable,' said Wych Hazel, still
keeping her eyes to herself.
'Do you mean, that you and she are in such sympathy, that if
she does not behave well you know the reason?'
'I never sympathize with anybody's ill-behaviour but my own,'
said Hazel, 'if that is what you mean.'
'I meant,' said Rollo with perfect gravity, 'that perhaps she
sympathized with _yours?_'
'It occurs to me in this connection--talking of behaviour,'--
said Miss Kennedy, 'that I had a question to ask of you two
gentlemen, which it may save time--and trouble-- to state while
you are both together. Are you attending to me, sir?' she
asked, looking straight over at her other guardian now,--'or
has your mind gone off to: "Grand Vizier certainly
strangled"?'
'My mind never goes off when you begin to state questions,
Miss Hazel; knowing that it will probably have work enough at
home.'
'This one is extremely simple, sir. Why, when you both agreed
that I should have neither saddle-horse nor pony for my own
individual use, did you not tell me so at once? Instead of
keeping me all summer in a state of hope deferred and
disappointment in hand?'
'Shall I take the burden of explanation on myself, sir?' asked
Rollo.
'If you like. It lies on you properly,' said Mr. Falkirk, in
anything but an amiable voice.
'Then may I order up Jeannie for you?' Rollo went on with a
smile, to Wych Hazel; 'and I will explain as we go along.'
'That is to say, there is no explanation, but just the one I
had made out for myself. Mr. Falkirk, did I ever practise any
underhand dealings with you?' she said.
'Don't begin to do it with me,' said Rollo. 'Suppose you put
on your habit, and in half an hour we'll have it all out on
the road.'
'Your respective ancestors must have been invaluable in the
old Salem times,' said the young lady, arching her brows a
little. 'In these days I think truth should win truth.' With
which expression of opinion Miss Wych whistled for a fresh
glass of water and dismissed the subject. Not without a
smothered sigh, however.
'I did not understand,' said Rollo, 'that expression of
respect for our ancestors.'
'Naturally. As I expressed none. But I remember--you belong
across the sea; where witchcraft probably is unknown, and so
is never dealt with.'
'What would you give as the best manner of dealing with it?'
Rollo inquired with admirable command of countenance.
'I suppose I should let them go their way. But then, being one
of the guild, I of course fail to see the danger; and cannot
appreciate the mild form of fear which has shadowed Mr.
Falkirk for ten years past, nor the sharper attack which has
suddenly seized Mr. Rollo.' She could keep her face too,
looking carelessly down and poising her teaspoon.
'What becomes of your kitten, when you are suddenly made aware
that there are strange dogs about?' said Rollo again, eyeing
her.
'My kitten, indeed!'--said Hazel, with just so much stir of her
composure as recognized the look which yet she did not see.
'Did you ever hear of a dog's cajoling a cat, Mr. Rollo?'
'Did _you_ never hear of puss in a corner?'
'Yes,' she said. 'You would not think it, but I am very good
at that.'
'You are very good at something else,' said he smiling. 'Will
you permit me to remind you, that I have not yet had the
honour of an answer to my inquiry whether your witchship will
ride this morning?'
If Mr. Falkirk had been away, it is not sure what she would
have answered; but Hazel had no mind to draw out even silent
comments from him. So she gave a hesitating answer that yet
granted the appeal. Then wished the next moment she had not
given it. Would she need most courage to take it back, or to
go on?
'If you will excuse me, then, I will go and see to the horses.
I leave you, Mr. Falkirk, to defend yourself! I have been
unable to decoy the enemy.'
With which he went off. Mr. Falkirk's brows were drawn pretty
close.
'Miss Hazel, I should like to be told, now that we are alone,
in what way I have failed to meet "truth with truth"?'
'My dear sir, how you do scowl at me!' said Miss Hazel,
retaking her easy manner, now that _her_ enemy was away. 'I only
used the word in a popular sense. If I never misled _you_, then
you had no right to mislead _me_.'
'How were you misled, Miss Hazel?'
'I supposed, being somewhat simple-minded, that the reason
horse, pony, and basket wagon did not appear, was that they
could not be found, sir. It shews how ignorant I am of the
world still, I must acknowledge.'
'I have no opinion of ponies and basket wagons,' said her
guardian. 'And I do not know how well you can drive. And you
are too young, Miss Hazel, and too--well, you are too young to
be allowed to drive round the world by yourself. When
Cinderella, no, when Quickear, sets off to seek her fortune,
she goes fast enough in all nature without a pony.'
'There are just two little faults in your statement, sir,
considered as an answer. I never was fast'--said Miss Hazel,--
'but trying to hoodwink me is not likely to make me slow,'--and
she went off to don her habit and gather herself up for the
ride.