SOMETHING NEW.
So Jeannie Deans went back into the stable, and carried her
light burden no more for some time. But Hazel did not go to
Beacon Hill, in any fashion nor on any day; and it is to be
hoped Jeannie Deans was less restless than she.
'Miss Wych--my dear!' said Mrs. Bywank in remonstrance; 'if you
cannot sit still, why don't you go out? You are just wearing
yourself pale in the house; and why, I do not see.'
'Nobody sees--' said the girl with a long breath. 'My wings are
clipped, Byo,--that is all.'
'My dear!' Mrs. Bywank said again. 'I think you shouldn't talk
so, Miss Wych.'
'Very likely not,' said Hazel. But if ever I am a real
runaway, Byo, it will be for the sake of choosing my own
ruler. So you can remember.'
'Miss Wych--' Mrs. Bywank began, gravely. Hazel came and flung
herself down on the floor, and laid her head on the old
housekeeper's lap.
'O, I know!' she said. 'Why did they ever call me so, Byo? I
think it hangs over me like a fate. Could they find no other
name for their little brown baby but that? I can no more help
being a witch, than I can help breathing.'
The old housekeeper stroked the young head tenderly, softly
parting and smoothing down the hair.
'They liked the name, my dear,' she said. 'And so would you,
if you could remember the tone in which Mrs. Kennedy used to
say: "My Wych!"--"My little Wych!"--'
Hazel sprang away as if the words had been a flight of arrows.
And so the fall went on; and since Miss Kennedy would stay at
home, perforce the world must come to see her there; and the
old house at least sounded gay enough. And then society began
slowly to steal away to winter quarters. The two young
officers went back to their posts, without even a hope (it was
said) that might make them ever return again to the
neighbourhood of Chickaree. And Mr. May sailed for Europe,
having a gentle dismissal from the little hands for which he
cared so much; and the Powders departed to ex-official duties;
and Mme. Lasalle to town. The leaves fell, having done their
sweet summer duty far better than these rational creatures;
and then Wych Hazel took to long early and late walks by
herself, threading the leafless woods, and keeping out of
roads and choosing by-paths; wandering and thinking--both--more
than was good for her; and enjoying just one thing, the being
alone.
Rollo all this while had kept the promise he made when he told
her that he would see her and meant she should see him. He
came very frequently; he rode with her if she would ride, and
talked with her when she would talk; or he talked to Mr.
Falkirk in her hearing. He sometimes gave her riding lessons.
Whatever her mood, he was just himself; free, pleasant and
watchful of her; sometimes a little Spanish in his treatment
of her. Her clouds did not seem to put him in shadow. And she
would not always refuse a lesson, or a ride, or a talk,--it was
not in her nature to be ungraceful or rough in any way; only
it could not be said that she took pleasure in them, as a
certain thing. They broke up the intolerable loneliness of her
life just then, but otherwise were not always a success.
Constantly now expecting to be drawn back, or ordered back, as
she phrased it; expecting forbidden things at every turn; she
did not want to be alone with Mr. Rollo, nor to go with other
people where he might come. In fact, she did not quite
understand herself; and she grew more and more restless and
eager to get away.
'Why should we not go on Monday?' she asked Mr. Falkirk.
'Go?' echoed her guardian. 'Are we to take up our travels
again, my dear?'
'Did you suppose yourself settled for the winter, sir? I
expect to go to town, like other people.'
'What are we to do when we get there?'
'Keep house, sir. You can take one-half the bricks, and I the
other. Or any proportions that may suit your views,' said Miss
Hazel compliantly.
Now Mr. Falkirk did not, it is true, understand the course
things had taken for the last few weeks; he was only a man;
and though Wych Hazel's guardian for many years might be
supposed to hold a clue to her moods, this was what Mr.
Falkirk failed to do in the present instance. But using his
wits as well as he was able, he had come to the conclusion,
not without some secret gratification, that Miss Hazel
preferred the society of her old guardian to that of her new
one. Certainly he was in no mind to cross her wish to go to
the city, if she had such a wish. However, mindful of his
duty, he mentioned her desire to Rollo, and asked if he had
any objection to it. Rollo was silent a minute, and then gave
a frank 'No.' And Mr. Falkirk wrote to make arrangements, and
even went himself to perfect them. And he lost no time; by the
end of October the change was made, and Wych Hazel established
in a snug little house in one of the best streets on Murray
Hill.
If Mr. Falkirk was misled before, his mind was not likely to
clear up as the weeks went on. Whatever had come over his
ward, she was unmistakably changed from her old self; as now,
living in the house with her again, Mr. Falkirk could not fail
to perceive. Quiet steps, a gentle voice that quite ignored
its old bursts of singing; brown eyes that looked softly
through things and people at something else; with a mood
docile because it did not care: but _that_ he did not know.
Apparently she had not come to town for stir,--her going out
was of the quietest kind. Sometimes a specially fine concert
would tempt her; once in a while she made one of her radiant
toilettes and went to a state dinner party, now and then to a
lunch or a kettle-drum; but balls and evening parties of every
sort were invariably declined. Instead, she plunged into
study,--went at German as if her life depended on it, took up
her Italian again, and began to perfect herself in French.
Read history, knit her brows over science, and sat and drew by
the hour.
Of course society could not quite be baffled so: mornings
brought carriage after carriage, and evenings a run upon the
door. Mr. Falkirk had little peace of his life, unless it were
a reposeful thing for him to sit by and see the play.
Between whiles this winter, Hazel did a great deal of
thinking: even German could not crowd it out. She knew, the
minute she had said she would come to town, that she wished
something could step in and keep her at Chickaree; or at least
she knew that she was leaving more there than she had counted
upon; and the knowledge chafed her. It was all very well to
like--somebody--(name of course unknown)--to a certain degree;
but when the liking made itself into bonds and ties and
hindrances, then Miss Wych rebelled. She brought up all sorts
of questions in the most unattractive shape, to find them
suited with answers that could find no reply. It was simply
unbearable, she urged upon herself, this being held in and
watched and restricted,--very unbearable! Only, somehow, the
person who did it all, was _not_. And the doubt whether life
would be worth having, in such guardianship, started a more
difficult point: what would it be worth without? And the
mental efforts to shake herself into clear order, just seemed,
as sometimes happens, to tie three knots where there was one
before.
'It will go after a while,' she said, twisting herself about
under the new form of loneliness and unrest which possessed
her when she got to town. And it did: deeper in.
Mr. Falkirk, blind bat that he was (for a sharp-sighted man),
was not discontented with his winter. He had Wych Hazel to
himself, and she gave him no more trouble than he liked by the
force of old associations. He watched the play in which she
was so prominent and so pretty a figure, and found it amusing.
It seemed safe play, so far; the fort that he was set to keep
seemed quite secure from any attacks that presently
threatened; and Mr. Falkirk had no suspicion that its safety
was owing to a garrison within the walls. The outside he knew
he watched well. It was a very quiet winter, indeed, except at
such times as Miss Kennedy's doors were open to all comers;
but Mr. Falkirk did not find fault with that. He had never
been garrulous in his ward's company or in any other.
Certainly he liked to hear _her_ talk; and he knew that she
talked far less than usual, when they were alone; but he
argued with himself that Wych Hazel was growing older, was
seriously engaging herself in study, after other than a
school-girl's fashion; and that all this winter's development
was but the sweet maturing of the fruit which in growing
mature was losing somewhat of its liveliness of flavour.
They were alone one evening, rather past the middle of the
winter. It was not one of Miss Kennedy's at-home nights; and
in a snug little drawing-room the two were seated on opposite
sides of the tea service. A fire of soft coal burning
luxuriously; thick curtains drawn; warm-coloured paperhangings
on the walls; silver bright in the gaslight, and Mr. Falkirk's
evening papers ready at his hand. To-night Mr. Falkirk rather
neglected them, and seemed to be in a meditative mood.
'Whereabouts are we in pursuit of our fortune, Miss Hazel?' he
asked as he tasted his cup of hot tea.
'Rather deep down in Schiller and Dante, Sir.'
'_Il Paradiso?_' asked Mr. Falkirk meaningly.
'Pray do you call that "deep down"?' demanded Miss Hazel.
'I am merely inquiring where you are, my dear. I have heard of
people's being over head and ears.'
'Only hearsay evidence, sir?' said Miss Hazel recklessly. But
then she was not going to stand up and be shot at!
'I should like to know, merely as a satisfaction to my own
mind, whether the quest is ended, Miss Hazel? Has Cinderella's
glass slipper been fitted on? or has Quickear seized the
singing bird and the golden water?'
'Princes are scarce!' said the girl derisively, but not
without a rising blush.
'The true one not found yet, my dear?' said Mr. Falkirk with
an amused glance across the table. 'What is to be our next
move in search of him?'
'That is one way of putting it,' said Wych Hazel. 'I should
think, sir, you had taken lessons of your devotee, Miss
Fisher.'
'I am glad _you_ don't,' said Mr. Falkirk earnestly. 'Miss
Hazel, I should prefer that when _such_ princesses are in the
parlour, Cinderella should keep to her kitchen. It is the
court end in such a case.'
Kitty Fisher's name brought up visions. Hazel was silent.
'Do you ever hear from Chickaree?' her guardian asked
presently.
'No one to write, sir, but Mrs. Bywank,--and she, you know, is
not a scribe. I understand that the kitten is well.'
'That is important,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'She hasn't told you
lately anything about your friend Rollo?'
'No, sir. Have you given up your share in his friendship?'
inquired Miss Hazel.
Mr. Falkirk made no answer to this query, and seemed to have
forgotten it presently in his musings. Hazel glanced at him
furtively, choosing her form of attack; for Mr. Falkirk's
manner seemed to say that he _had_ heard.
'You always played into each other's hands so delightfully,
sir,' she began, with a very _dégagé_ air,--'it is of course
natural that he should keep you posted as to his own important
proceedings. And a little ungrateful in you, Mr. Falkirk, I
must say, to fling him off in this fashion.'
'I've nothing on my conscience respecting him,' said Mr.
Falkirk, eating his toast with a contented air. 'I'm not _his_
guardian, nor ever was.'
'What a pity!' said Wych Hazel. 'Both of us together might
have made your life more lively than my unassisted efforts
could do.'
Mr. Falkirk grunted, and went on with his tea; and sent his
cup to be refilled.
Hazel pondered.
'You seem depressed, Mr. Falkirk,' she said. 'Shall I give you
an additional lump of sugar?'
Now Mr. Falkirk in truth seemed anything but depressed; and he
raised his head to look at his questioner.
'I am quite satisfied with things as they are, Miss Hazel.'
'Are you, sir? I am delighted!' said Hazel. 'But I never even
supposed such a thing possible. How are "things"--if I may be
allowed to inquire?'
Some things are new,' returned her guardian. 'And I should not
be satisfied with them, if they concerned me. Which I take for
granted they do not. I saw Dr. Arthur down town to-day; and he
told me some odd news about Rollo.' Mr. Falkirk was finishing
his tea in a leisurely way, evidently _not_ thinking that the
news, whatever it was, concerned either of them seriously.
'Why did you not bring Dr. Arthur home to tea?' inquired his
ward.
'I did not think of it, Miss Hazel. But he volunteered a visit
in the course of the evening.'
'That will be delightful,--I like Dr. Arthur,' said Hazel,
feeling that somehow or other she must get a glimpse of his
news before he came.
'Well, if what he said gave you so much pleasure, why don't
you repeat it to me, Mr. Falkirk,' she ventured.
'I do not remember that I said anything gave me pleasure,'
returned her guardian. 'This don't. By what he says, Rollo has
lost his wits. I thought him a shrewd man of business; and he
was that, when your affairs were in his hand last summer; but
if what Dr. Arthur tells me is true, and it must be, he has
done a very strange thing with his own fortune.'
'Dear me! I hope he did not hurt himself looking after mine!'
said Wych Hazel innocently. 'Are fortune and wits both in
peril, Mr. Falkirk?'
'Not yours, I hope,' said her guardian. 'I should be very
uneasy if I thought that. _I_ should have no power to interfere.
The will gives him absolute control, supposing that he had
control at all.'
Perhaps it was just as well that at this moment Dr. Arthur was
announced. Alas, not only Dr. Arthur, but Mrs. Coles! And
Hazel, giving greetings to one and welcome to the other;
insisting that they should come to the tea table, late as it
was; went on all the while looking after her own wits and
picking up her energies with all speed. She had need; for the
harmless-seeming eyes of Mrs. Coles were always to her
neighbours' interests. Very graciously now they watched Wych
Hazel.
There was a great deal to talk about, in Miss Kennedy's house
and winter and engagements; and in Dr. Maryland's house, and
Primrose, and her school. An endless succession of points of
talk, that ought to have been very interesting, to judge by
the spirit with which they were discussed. All the while, Wych
Hazel was watching for something else; and Prudentia, was she
keeping the best for the last? She was extremely affable; she
enjoyed her tea; she took off her bonnet and displayed the
pale bandeaux of hair which were inevitably associated in Miss
Kennedy's mind with one particular day and conversation; she
admired the furniture; she discoursed on the advantages of
city life. Dr. Maryland was, perforce, rather silent.
'Well, Arthur dear,' she said at last, taking her bonnet, 'we
must be going presently. What do you think of Dane, Mr.
Falkirk?'
Mr. Falkirk did not answer intelligibly, though the lady's
face was turned full upon him; he uttered an inexplicable sort
of grunt, and knotted his eyebrows. He didn't like Prudentia.
'I never saw anybody so changed in all my life,' pursued the
lady. 'Such sudden changes are doubtful things, I always
think;--come probably from some sudden cause, and may not last.
But it is very surprising while it _does_ last.'
'I am sorry to contradict you, Prudens,' said Dr. Arthur here;
'but Dane was never more himself. He only happens to stand
facing due north instead of north by east.'
'He was "north" enough before,' said his sister, a little,
just a little bitterly; 'a trifle more of southern direction
wouldn't have hurt him. But _I_ think, he's out of his head. Men
are, sometimes, you know,' she went on, looking full at Wych
Hazel now. 'I shall let Miss Kennedy be judge. Do you know
what Dane has been doing, Miss Kennedy?'
'Not waltzing?' said Hazel, opening her brown eyes with an
expression of mild dismay which was very nearly too much for
Dr. Arthur.
'Waltzing?' said Prudentia, mystified. 'I did not say anything
about waltzing. Why shouldn't he waltz? I think he used. Why
yes; he was a famous waltzer. Don't you waltz, Miss Kennedy?'
'But I was always known to be out of my head,' said Hazel. 'In
what other possible way could Mr. Rollo shew the state of
his?'
'I don't know what you mean,' said Prudentia, handling her
bonnet. 'Then you haven't heard my story already. You know
that old Mr. Morton has failed; did you hear of that?'
'Not the first time, is it?' said Miss Kennedy coolly. Dr.
Arthur bit his lips.
'Yes, my dear! it's the first and only time; he was always
supposed to be a very rich man. Well, Dane has taken his
fortune and thrown it into those mills!'
'I was afraid you were going to say the mill stream,' said
Wych Hazel, who was getting so nervous she didn't know what to
do with herself; 'but the mills seem a safe place.'
'I don't know but he's better done that of the two,' said
Prudentia. 'A safe place? Why, my dear, just think! he has
bought all of Mr. Morton's right and title there; with Mr.
Morton's three mills. Of course, it _must_ have taken very
nearly his whole fortune; it _must_.'
'I fancy there's a trifle left over,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'But I
can't conceive what possessed him. What does Rollo know of the
mill business?'
'Nothing at all, of course,' said Prudentia. 'Nor of any other
business. And he has shewed his ignorance--did Arthur tell you,
sir, how he has shewed it?'
'In buying three mills to begin with,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'A
modest man would have begun with one.'
'But my dear sir, _that_ isn't all. What _do_ you suppose, Miss
Kennedy, was his first move?'
'One is prepared for almost anything.'
'He will learn the business, before long,' said Dr. Arthur,
'if close attention can do it.'
'What should he learn the business for?' said his sister. 'He
has already all that the mill business could give him, without
any trouble. _I_ think he's troubled in his wits; I do indeed.
He was always a wild boy, and now he's a wilder man.'
'Troubled in his wits!' said Dr. Arthur, with such supreme
derision, that Wych Hazel laughed. To her own great relief, be
it said.
'But what is this that he has done?' Mr. Falkirk inquired, his
brows looking very much disgusted.
'My dear sir! Fancy it. Fancy it, Miss Kennedy. The first
thing he did was to _raise the wages of his hands!_'
Just one person caught the gleam from under Hazel's down-cast
eyes,--perhaps something made his own quick-sighted. Dr. Arthur
answered for her.
'They were not half paid before, Mr. Falkirk. That explains
it.'
'Weren't they paid as other mill hands are paid, Dr. Arthur?'
'The more need for a change, then,' said the young man, who
was a trifle Quixotic himself.
'But if the change is made by one man alone, he effects
nothing but his own ruin.'
'That is what Dane is about, I am firmly persuaded,' said Mrs.
Coles.
'No man ever yet went to ruin by doing right,' said Dr.
Maryland.
'Many a one!' said Mr. Falkirk,--'by doing what he _thought_
right; from John Brown up to John Huss, and from John Huss
back to the time when history is lost in a fog bank.'
'They'll get their reward, I suppose, in the other world,'
said Prudentia comfortably.
'How will his ruin affect the poor mill people?' said Wych
Hazel, so seriously, that perhaps only Mr. Falkirk--knowing
her-- knew what she was about.
'Why, my dear, it ruins them too in the end; that's it. When
he fails, of course his improvements fail, and everything goes
back where it was before. Only worse.'
'Precisely,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'You cannot lift the world out
of the grooves it runs in, by mere force; and he who tries,
will put his shoulder out of joint.'
'Then my picture of "the loss of all things," is the portrait
of a ruined man!' said Wych Hazel, with an expressive glance
at Dr. Maryland. He smiled.
'It partly depends, you know, Miss Kennedy, upon where the
race is supposed to end. But our friend is running well at
present, for both worlds.'
'Arthur, he is not!' said his sister emphatically. 'Paul and
John Charteris, the other mill-owners, hate him as hard as
they can hate him; and if they can ruin him, they will; that
you may depend upon.'
'And his own people love him as hard as they can,--so that,
even if you allow one rich mill-owner to be worth a hundred
poor employés, Dane can still strike a fair balance.'--Rather
more than that, Dr. Arthur thought, as his quick eye took
notice of the little screening hand that came suddenly up
about Wych Hazel's mouth and chin.
'That's all nonsense, Arthur; business is business, and not
sentiment. I never heard of a cotton mill yet that was run
upon sentiment; nor did you. And I tell you, it won't pay. I
am speaking of business _as_ business. Paul and John Charteris
will ruin Dane, if they can.'
'They probably can,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'They will make a
combination with other mill-owners and undersell him; and
paying less wages they can afford to do it, for a time. And a
certain time will settle Rollo's business.'
'I think he has lost his wits,' Prudentia repeated, for the
third or fourth utterance. 'Then another thing he has done--But
really, Arthur, my dear, we must go.'
'O tell us some more!' said Miss Kennedy. 'We have not heard
of any wits lost in this way, all winter; and it is quite
exciting. What next, Mrs. Coles?'
Prudentia laughed.
'How comes it he don't tell you himself? I thought you used to
be such friends--riding about everywhere. But indeed _we_ don't
see much of Dane now; he lives at his old nurse's ever so much
of the time; and comes scouring over the country on that bay
horse of his, to consult papa about something;--but _I_ never see
him, except through the window. Sometimes he rides your brown
horse, I think, Miss Kennedy. I suppose he is keeping it in
order for you.'
'Well, that certainly does sound erratic!' said Miss Kennedy,
drawing a long breath. 'I hope he will confine all new-fangled
notions to the bay.'
'He has taught that creature to stand still,' said Mrs. Coles,
looking at her.
'That must afford him immense satisfaction! Rather hard upon
the bay, though.'
'He stands as still as a mountain,' Prudentia went on,
carrying on meanwhile privately a mental speculation about
Wych Hazel;--'he stands like a glossy statue, without being
held, too; and comes when Dane snaps his fingers to him.'
'It only shews what unexpected docility exists in some
natures,' said Miss Kennedy with an unreadable face.
'Come, Prudens--tell your story and have done!' said Dr.
Arthur, speaking now. 'I have an appointment.'
'I am quite ready,' said Mrs. Coles starting up. 'Dear me! we
have stayed an unconscionable time, but Miss Kennedy will
forgive us, being country people and going back to the country
to-morrow. Prim says Dane is coming down before long.'
'Tell your story!'
'Miss Kennedy won't care for it, and it will ruin Dane with
Mr. Falkirk. He has introduced something like English penny
readings at Morton Hollow,' said Prudentia, putting on her
bonnet and turning towards Wych Hazel's guardian.
'What are penny readings?' said Mr. Falkirk.
'They had their origin in England, I believe; somebody set
them on foot for the benefice of the poorer classes, or work
people; and Dane has imported them. He receives the employés
of the mills,' said Prudentia, chuckling,--'whoever will come
and pay a penny; his own workmen and the others. The levee is
held on Saturday nights; and Dane lays himself out to amuse
them with reading to them and singing. Fancy it! Fancy Dane
reading all sorts of things to those audiences! and the
evenings are so interesting, I am told, that they do not
disperse till eleven o'clock. I believe he has it in
contemplation to add the more material refreshment of
sandwiches and coffee as soon as he gets his arrangements
perfected. And he is going to build, as soon as the spring
opens, O, I don't know what!'
'Fools build houses, and other people live in them,' said Mr.
Falkirk.
'O, it's not houses to live in--though I have a notion he is
going to do that too. He lives with old Gyda pretty much of
the time.'
'Well,' said Dr. Arthur, looking at Mr. Falkirk but speaking
to Wych Hazel, 'I need only add, that my father thoroughly
approves of all Rollo's work.'
'Work?--does he call it "work"?' said Wych Hazel, looking up.
'It is not exactly play, Miss Kennedy!'--
But the soft laugh that answered that, no one could define.
'He won't find it play by the by,' said Mr. Falkirk.