CHAPTER XIV.

THE WORTH OF A FEATHER.

The door of the red room stood open now, and the room was filled

with firelight which came streaming out into the hall to usher him

in. Hazel was down before the fire, sending persuasive puffs from

her bellows into the very depths of the coals.

'What is left of you?' said Dane coming and taking the bellows

from her hand.

'Much more than you are aware of. Have some chestnuts?—just

for variety,'—and Hazel took from her pocket and poured into his

hand her collection of extra specimens. Then quietly slipping from

her fingers all the disguising rings she dropped them one by one

into the empty pocket, until the emerald was left alone.

'Good fruit'—said Dane viewing the big chestnuts.

'I have been saving them up for you all day. You know I could not

always help taking them.'

'Do you mean that people have been paying tribute to you in your

own chestnuts?'

'Having nothing of their own that I would touch.'

'In the meanwhile, what besides have you touched? I want to

know.'

'Never mind—we will have tea by and by. Dr. Maryland said you

were to wait here for him—or for a message. Whichever came

first, I suppose.'

'I am not going to wait here for him,'—said Dane, ringing the bell.

'Will this bring Dingee?'

'No,' said Hazel laughing; 'that will bring Phoebe. Dingee

acknowledges nothing but my whistle.'

'Where is that?'

'Here'—touching the little gold toy at her belt. 'But you do not

know how to blow it, Mr. Rollo.'

Dane lifted the trinket and examined it, and then remarking that 'a

whistle is a whistle,' put his lips to it and made the call sound loud

and clear through the house.

'What do you want?' said Hazel laughing at him. 'Dingee will

know better than to think me responsible for that. Tell me what

you want, and I will obey orders—as usual.'

'Dingee will know better than to think anybody else has blown

your whistle. Dingee!'—as the boy appeared,—'go and say to Mrs.

Bywank, with my compliments, that your mistress has had nothing

to eat all day, except chestnuts. I think she will know what to do.'

Dingee took in the situation and went off with a flourish.

'Did you see John Charteris here to-day?' Hazel said suddenly.

'I think he crossed my line of vision,' said Dane carelessly.

'Well I did not ask him.'

'What then?' said Rollo looking amused at her.

'I did not want you should think that I would.' And Hazel, full of

her own successful schemes in the mill business, smiled down

upon the fire a whole sweet fund of triumph and delight, to which

not only lips but eyes bore witness. Still looking amused, but with

a great tenderness coming upon that, Rollo considered her.

'It is beyond the power of John Charteris to give me any

uneasiness,' he said. 'And you are forgetting my emerald, Hazel.'

'I? What? Forgetting?'

'Forgetting what it means. Hazel—what is your ideal of a

wedding?'

Rollo was drawing one of Hazel's brown curls through his fingers

and spoke in the coolest manner of abstract speculation. But the

question came too close upon emeralds not to call up a vivid start

of colour. As soon as she could, Hazel answered that 'as she had

none, it was impossible to tell.'

'Let me state mine,' said Rollo. 'It may be useful to find out

whether we think alike. In the first place, then, as to the scene of

action.—The main thing is, to be where a large number of people

can see us, and where we shall make part of an imposing picture. I

can think of nothing better, in this country, than the Capitol of

Washington. That would be showy, and central. I have no doubt it

could be obtained for the occasion. I cannot think of any place

more public or more demonstrative; can you?'

'Well?' said Hazel, stifling a laugh, for Dane's face was perfectly

grave.

'We should of course in that case invite the Senate and House of

Representatives, and give a cold collation to the city of

Washington. With your money and mine, we could not well do

less.'

' "We" is rather superfluous.'

'How so?' very innocently.

'Never mind now; go on.'

'You approve, so far?' enquired Rollo, with dangerous demureness

in the wise gray eyes.

'O I have nothing to do with the matter,' said Hazel. 'It is _your_

imagination that has slipped its bridle, and I am simply curious to

see where it will bring up.'

'I don't know myself,' said Rollo. 'I am trying to fancy what the

presents will be. Of course, since we ask the Senate and House of

Representatives to the wedding, every man of them will send you a

piece of plate; probably the majority of them will be teakettles. As

I do not drink tea, it hardly concerns me much; but they will be

very convenient for you. The arrangement of them for inspection is

a matter of some difficulty;—I would suggest a pyramidal

scaffolding on which they might be all disposed with very striking

effect; indeed if it were done cleverly I conceive it might be

possible to give the impression of a solid pyramid of teakettles;

which would be imposing. The Hall of Representatives would be a

good place, I should think; allowing of an effective display of the

bronze statuettes which will probably accompany the teakettles.

Every giver's name, of course, is to be appended to his own piece

of plate; so that it can be seen at a glance who has given most; and

then with the income tax reports in your hand, you can see who

_ought_ to have given most. I think all New York would be there. Be

a good thing for the railway companies!'

Wych Hazel laughed a little bit, but she was too shy of the subject

and too conscious of hot cheeks, to enter upon it very freely.

'There is one thing you have forgotten,' she said. 'Your "ideal" is

not complete, Mr. Rollo.'

'What do you suggest?'

'An ideal woman. I am waiting for that.'

'Did you think I was going to have a wedding without a bride?'

'Well—can you match the colours? You have put in the teakettles

rather strong.'

'I hope they'll be strong,' said Dane, 'if they are anything. If there is

anything I don't like, it is weak ware.'

Hazel was silent, looking rather intently into the fire.

'I think I have mentioned everything except the bride's dress and

the wedding journey. And the first subject I feel myself

incompetent to approach. In general, the main thing is that it

should gratify curiosity and be somehow in advance of anything of

the kind ever worn before. Is not that the great point?'

'Did you ever set Prim to talk to me about my dress?' said Hazel,

facing round upon him with a wide change of subject in her own

mind. Dane, with his own still before him, laughed and said no;

and then asked with some curiosity why she enquired?'

'I was afraid you had,—that is all.'

'That is a little too much. I never set other people to do my work.'

He could see a gleam of pleasure cross her face, but she only said

quietly, 'I am glad.'

'What did Prim say to you?'

'O it was some time ago—the night we were in Norway together.

Prim asked me what I was going to "do" about dress. And to this

day I do not know what she meant.'

'Your wedding dress?'

'Ah be quiet!' said Hazel. 'I am talking sense. Is your imagination

too exhausted to bring you back to the land of reality?'

'I am speaking the most commonplace sense I possess. If Prim was

not referring to your wedding dress, what did she mean?'

'That is just what I do not quite know. Prim asked that all of a

sudden, and I said, I did not know what she meant by "do;" and she

said "manage;" and I said I never managed. And then she said—at

least asked—'

'What?' said Dane, a trifle imperatively.

'Whether I thought you would like to have me dress as I do,'—said

Hazel in a low voice.

The gray eyes took quick account of several items in the little

lady's attire, then turned away; and Dane remarked that 'Prim had

meant no harm.'

'No, not a bit. But it puzzled me,—and I looked down at my dress,

just—as you did now. And Prim said, of course she did not mean

what I wore _then_, but that I always dressed so beautifully. And

then I thought,' said Hazel with the laugh in her voice, 'that maybe

she thought it was wrong to have one's dress hang right. And next

morning I was naughty enough to pull out her loopings and do

them over. Then I asked her if she felt demoralized, or something.

And Prim wanted to know if I thought she meant _that?_ and bade

me look at your dress. Which I have, very often,' Hazel added with

a shy glance, 'but I do not find that it gives me any help about my

own.'

Dane rewarded this speech with a look of grave deliberation,

which ended with the corners of his mouth breaking into all

manner of lines of fun. Hazel smiled too, partly at him, partly at

herself.

'You see what always happens when I talk out,' she said. 'I am sure

to be laughed at for my "confidence," as you call it. But Mr. Rollo,

I did not much mind what Prim said. Not a bit, only for two little

things.'

'What little things, Hazel?' and there was the force of a dozen

"dears" and "my loves" in the quiet intonation.

'I thought for a while that you had told her to talk to me. As you

did once before.'

A quick look denied all knowledge of such an occasion.

'At Greenbush—that night,' said Hazel.

'That night,' said Dane smiling again. 'But I did not set her to talk

to you then. I only sent her to do what I supposed at the moment

she might do more acceptably.'

'I know—'said Hazel, 'but I never could take second-hand orders.

That was one of the times when you made a mistake in your

dealings with me.'

'Well? You know I shall not make such mistakes any more. And

yet, Hazel,' said he growing grave, 'that is too much for me to say

even lightly. Perhaps I shall make mistakes. Till we have lived

long enough together to know each other thoroughly, I might.

What will you do then?'

She laughed a little, half raised her eyes, and let them fall. 'No,' she

said, 'you will not repeat those two or three great ones; and others

do not matter.'

'Two or three!' said Dane; but then he began again.—'What was

the other "little thing" that annoyed you in Prim's words the other

night?'

'About as wise as the first! I never supposed you noticed my

dress,—or would,—while I kept out of yellow feathers and sky

blue gloves. But Prim left a sort of impression, that if ever you

_should_, it would be to dislike it. And that troubled me a little bit at

the time, and has troubled me—just a little bit—ever since.'

Probably Dane's first thoughts were not put into words. What he

did, was to get hold of Wych Hazel's hand, and between the kisses

he gave it he remarked,

'I never noticed your dress without feeling a certain delight in its

perfect harmonies; and—I never saw you without noticing your

dress.'

'_You?_' Hazel said with a quick, timid intonation. And then there

came a great flush of pleasure, and she looked away and was

silent; thinking to herself—what she herself would have called "all

sorts of things."

'Don't you think,' said Dane coolly, 'that as we have evidently so

much respectively to learn about each other, we had better begin as

soon as possible?'

'Are you expecting such new developments?—But then,' she said,

the doubtful look waking up again, 'what did Primrose mean? She

meant something,—and you know what it was.'

'Do I? I suppose Primrose felt that I had changed from my once

views of that, as of other subjects.'

'What were your "once" views?' said Hazel. 'I hardly knew that

people had what you call "views" about dress.'

Rollo smiled.

'I suppose mine were what yours are now.'

'Then yours never had existence.'

'And your dress _happens_. Do you mean that?'

'No, no!—but if I had worn two or three necklaces to the woods

this morning, it would have been want of sense and taste, not of

views.'

'Certainly. Your "views" of dress are sense and taste. Or rather,

your instinct, I should say.'

'But,' said Hazel,—'no, that is not what I mean. Sense and taste

have to do directly with the subject,—they grow out of it, or are

mixed up with it,—I wish anybody had ever taught me to talk,

among other things!—I mean, they are intrinsic. And "views"

always seemed to take an outside stand, irrespective of everything.

I think I do not like "views." '

'You cannot help having them,' said Dane laughing at her. '

"Views" are merely the simplest word for _how you see a thing;_

under what light, and proportions, and relations.'

Hazel shook her head.

'I never was famous for seeing things,' she said. 'I think I go more

by instinct. What do you compliment me by supposing my views

of dress to be, Mr. Rollo?'

'That is something from which you are to get, and give, the sense

of beauty, in infinite variety.'

"Well, leaving that statement for the present, what are yours,

please?'

'That it is a usable thing, which I am to use, like everything else,—

for my Master.'

Hazel glanced at him, and looked away.

'Up to a certain point,' she said, 'our views go side by side; we both

call it a power.'

Dane was silent, with a certain sweet, grave silence, that evidently

was not in want of thoughts. Hazel sat still too for a few minutes,

knotting her little fingers together. She glanced at him again before

she went on.

'But further than that, I do not understand. I think, generally, I have

dressed to please myself,—not often for a purpose; though I could

do that, I suppose, upon occasion. That is, in my sort of way. But

in _yours_, Mr. Rollo,—I should get in such a labyrinth of black

merino and green silk and blue velvet and white muslin, no line

that ever was twisted would be long enough to guide me out.'

'There's a short way out,' said Rollo. 'I will not let you get into a

labyrinth.'

'That may alter the case,' said Hazel with a half laugh. 'But just

Prim's words, and the thought of your criticising my dress, put me

in such confusion to-day that I was very near not getting dressed at

all; and was ever so much ashamed of myself.' The fluttering white

dress, by the way, had given place to one of the soft leaf-brown

silks in which she delighted. Perhaps Rollo's eyes liked it too; for

they took a complacent view and came back to her face with a

smile.

'It is a problem, to be worked out,' he said.

'In my way, to your ends?' queried Hazel. 'The difference lying in

the use or disposal of the power when in hand. Is that what you

mean?'

'That will do. But _sometimes_ it happens, that beauty of effect must

give way before more important uses.'

'Why? And how?' she said looking at him.

'Do you want me to go into it?'

'Yes, of course. And get me out.'

'I don't know about that. Well,—I have seen you,—to come to

personalities,—I have seen you, for instance, wearing a hat and

feather. I have good reason to remember it; for the play of that

feather used to gratify and irritate me, both at once, beyond what

was on the whole easy to bear. The hat suited the feather, and the

feather became the hat; and hat and feather were precisely suited to

you. _Your_ purpose, or "views," in dressing, were perfectly

attained. Suppose I could shew you that the pretty brown plume

represented what would keep a certain poor family from suffering

through the winter months?'

If Hazel was ready to laugh at one point of this speech, she grew

grave enough over the remainder; the sensitive colour stirring and

deepening in her cheeks. Anything that ever came near direct

personal criticism was so new to her.

'But Mr. Rollo—' she began.

'Yes,' he said gently and taking her hand, 'I am waiting for that.

Say just what is in your mind.'

'The poor family did not come forward, or they could have had

what they wanted. I did not know where they were. You do not

think I invest everything in feathers,—feelings and all?'

'Hazel, I am putting a case. It is a constant case, certainly; but

brought forward just now to illustrate a principle—nothing else.

Suppose the poor family did come forward and get its supply; then

I could tell you of a case of sickness, and shew you that your

feather represented the professional attendance and skill which

poverty could not command.'

'But, but,' said Hazel earnestly,—'I mean. Suppose,—I have

enough for them and myself too?'

'Then I could tell you of a poor invalid, to whom a few weeks in

the country would be life and health; but she cannot stop work. Or

I could tell you of a family just turned out of house and home

because illness has made them behindhand with the rent. I could

shew you friendless children, to one of whom your feather would

give safety and food for a year. Or feeble and ailing people, to

whom it would supply the delicacies they cannot get nor do

without. Or poor ministers, to whom it could go in an invaluable

parcel of books. Or ignorant poor, seeking instruction, to whom it

would be months of schooling. And then, I should but have given

you samples, Hazel, which you might multiply by the hundred and

the thousand, and still keep far within the literal fact.'

She listened with a grave face, trying to follow; but it is hard for

eighteen to realize at all what even fourscore takes in but dimly.

'You think I am extravagant,' she said.

'That would be a very harsh word in this connection. I do not mean

it. I was trying to answer you. You said, "Suppose I have enough

for them and myself too." '

'I wonder if I am?' she said with a half laugh and yet soberly.—'I

wish I could stand off and look at myself. Mr. Rollo, will you give

me another instance? I shall have to forgive that feather, because it

had the honour of "irritating" you, and so enlists my sympathies;

but what else have you seen me wear, that could do so much more

than itself?'

'The red squirrel has no business to preach to the shrew mouse,'

said he lightly, but looking at her as if doubtful how far it were

best to go.

'I am not a shrew,' said Hazel with somewhat prompt decision.

'Nor a mouse. Nor spun glass. So all those little preliminaries are

disposed of. And I do not see why you should preach to everybody

else and not to me.'

Dane however had scruples. He looked at Wych Hazel, and though

his gray eyes were all afire with purpose and spirit, he pursed up

his lips with a low whistle and getting up from his chair took a turn

or two through the large room. Finally came and stood before

Wych Hazel.

'What is the cost of that dress you have on,' said he. 'I mean, by the

yard?'

'This? I have no idea. I order what I like, and pay the bills when

they come. What was the use of information with which I could do

nothing?' But the colour started again.

'We shall have to get the bills, then, before we can go on. If you

have kept them, that is.'

'Do you mean,' she said, looking up at him rather wistfully now,'

that I am _always_ what you call extravagant?'

'Never, that I know of,' said he smiling down at her. 'To be

extravagant, is to go beyond bounds; and one who has never been

conscious of the bounds, cannot be justly said to have done that.'

'One ought to be conscious of proper bounds,' said Hazel, as if she

were a good deal disappointed in herself.

'You are only just beginning to be conscious of anything,' said

Dane audaciously.

'Statements—I cannot think how you find time to get them all up.

Well, Mr. Rollo? what next?'

'I should like to know how soon you are going to let me come

home,' said he sitting down by her.

In an instant Hazel was absolutely still, even to the ends of the

small fingers that lay folded in her lap, peeping out from the broad

lace shadows. And, nicely timed for her, the tea bugle just then

rang out, and the door of the red room opened to admit Dingee and

the tea tray; with cold partridge, and salad, and delicate loaves of

bread, white and brown, and wonderful cake, and a shape of Mrs.

Bywank's own special quince jelly. Hazel sprang up to superintend

and give directions; but when the little table was spread and

wheeled up, she dismissed Dingee and went to making the tea

herself.

'I often have tea here when I am alone,' she said,—'I mean, when

Mr. Falkirk does not come. And I thought perhaps you would like

it too.'

'Very much,' returned Dane demurely. 'So much that I am

impatient for it to become a stated fact. How long do you mean to

keep me at Gyda's?'

'You have such a peculiar way of putting questions,' said Hazel,

emulating the composure in everything but her face. 'Never

wording them so they can be answered. And there is no use in

disturbing them ages beforehand. Shall I give you coffee, Mr.

Rollo?'

'You are under a mistake. I am not going to be an age at Gyda's.'

'Well—then Gyda will be disappointed.'

'And you?—'

'You know you always have sufficient force of character to

disappoint me easily.'

'Have I? Would it disappoint you very much if I proposed to be

married at Christmas?'

'In that case,' answered Miss Wych, 'the force of character would

be on my side, and the disappointment on yours.'

'May I ask your views?' said Dane, with a coolness that was

provoking.

'Ah, be quiet!' said Hazel in desperation,—'you are perplexing all

my ideas. Is it five lumps of sugar—or six—that go in when you

have control of the sugar bowl?'

'The question is, just now, how many go in when you have the

control?' But then he let the supper take its course for a while in

commonplace peace.

'I wonder,' Wych Hazel began suddenly, her thoughts flying back

to the talk before tea,—'I was thinking—I have thought very

often,—how many things you will find in me that you do not like?

And how little there is you would like to find!'—

A flash of the eyes came to her across the table; and then Dane

remarked quietly that he had thought of that a number of times.

'Indeed I may say,' he added, 'that I am always thinking of it.'

She laughed a little bit, catching his meaning, but the serious look

came back.

'For instance,' she said,—'all this that I spend on myself, you

would—and do—spend on other people.'

'I think nothing can equal my astonishment at that "statement,"

except the impossibility of answering it!'

'But I do not mean anything ridiculous,' said Hazel,—'not bread

and butter and partridges. At least, I don't know about the

partridges—but you understand. And I do not mean that I would

not give _them_ up,—only—'

'Did I convey the impression that I wished you to give up

partridges?'

'Yes—if somebody else wanted them more,' said Hazel. 'And I am

willing enough. But then, but then!—I wish you knew,' she said,

rising abruptly as Dingee came in to clear the table. 'I wish I could

tell you.'—