CHAPTER XXV.

PRIM'S TRUNK.

We cannot go into the next day's shopping, though it was a very

enjoyable day for the two people engaged. Some things however

must be mentioned, on account of words and thoughts to which

they gave occasion.

The business on hand this day was the getting of New Year's gifts

for everybody in general. And as, with the exception of the Hollow

people, it had also to be for everybody in particular, the work was

slow.

Wych Hazel wanted a secretary for Primrose, in the first place. A

very beautiful one was found, very perfect also, of some light-

coloured ornamental wood, finely inlaid, price three hundred

dollars. On the other hand, Rollo got one, a larger one, and equally

good, for Arthur Maryland, for just half the money. One for Prim

was to be had for a third of the money; but it was unadorned black

walnut, and less elegant in form, and Wych Hazel recoiled. She

would have got the first without hesitation, only she could not

coax any encouragement out of Rollo.

'Do you think she would like this plain one better? Do _you?_'

'Suppose the difference, in the charge of a note, lay in one of the

drawers, for Prim's poor people? Which do you think would give

her most pleasure?'

'O _that_,—if you put it so. But I wish I could suit myself too.'

'You can suit yourself too,' said Dane smiling.

'I'll think about it as we go along. You see,' she said meditatively,

'I could put the cheque in, just the same.'

The next place in order was Stewart's.

'I have something to get for Prim, too,' said Rollo as the carriage

stopped. 'I have provided a new patent upright trunk; and I propose

to stock all its compartments. Will you help me? Else, I am afraid,

I shall never know all that ought to go in.'

'Well,' said Wych Hazel,—'is it to be filled with Prim's ideas, or

mine?'

'Let us give her what she can use and enjoy; every comfort we can

think of; and nothing that would not be a comfort. You wonder at

my choice of a present, perhaps; but Dr. Maryland's means are

very limited, and I know Rosy often hesitates about a new pair of

gloves.'

'I can choose gloves,' said Hazel confidently. 'But then—Dane—"

'Well?' said he, smiling, as he pushed open the swinging door.

Hazel walked on in a brown study.

'Never mind,—let me see you begin, and maybe I shall learn how

to go on,' she said, as they paused before one of the dress goods

counters.

It was no doubt new experience to her. For Rollo began with soft

merino and warm plaid pieces, choosing colours and qualities

indeed with care, yet refusing the more costly stuffs which were

offered. Except that he indulged himself and Primrose with a

delicate gray camel's hair at last. At the silk counter he would not

be tempted by the exquisite tender hues which the shopman

suggested to his notice; no, he looked, and called for others, and

finally bought a good dark green and a black, the mate to Mrs.

Coles' black silk. At the glove counter he handed the matter over to

Wych Hazel. She had watched all his proceedings with observant

eyes, saying hardly a word, unless upon some point of quality

where she knew best. Now she faced him again.

'How much do you want to invest in gloves, please?'

'That is not the point. I want to stock her glove drawer. Warm

gloves, cool gloves, dark gloves, light gloves; you have carte

blanche. I will look on now.'

Hazel laughed a little.

'There are more sorts of gloves than that. What about six buttons?'

'Six buttons!' repeated Rollo.

'Would you like more?'

'I do not understand the question. Excuse me.'

Wych Hazel held out her dainty wrist, turning it slightly that he

might see.

'I approve of that,' said he, looking gravely down at it.

'But you cannot have that for nothing,' said Hazel.

'What?' said Dane, his eyes coming now with a sparkle in them to

her face.

'Hush!—Don't you understand? The more buttons, the fewer

gloves—if you are limited. That was why I asked how much.'

'The buttons do not look costly.'

'But they are—in effect.'

'What's the difference?'

'Every additional button counts for so much,' Hazel told him.

'How many buttons are needed for comfort?'

'Twelve are best for some occasions,—and I think I have one box

with two.'

'But how many are needed for comfort?' said Dane, inquisitorially

now.

'Why!—as I told you,' said Hazel. 'The comfort of a glove depends

on its fitting your dress and the occasion as well as your hand.'

Dane pulled a card out of his pocket and did a moment's figuring

on it with his pencil. Then shewed it to Wych Hazel.

'Do you see?' he said low and rapidly in French. 'If you are buying

so many—the difference between two buttons and four would keep

a fire all winter for one of Rosy's old women who has no means to

buy firing.'

Hazel looked at him with open eyes, shook her head, and moved

away. 'I see I must quit my side of the counter,' she said. 'That

would not suit Prim's "views" at all. May I get them with two?'—

Practically the same thing went on in the lace and embroidery

departments. In the shawl room Hazel was better satisfied, though

even there Rollo was content with less than a cashmere. Furs,

linens, ribbands, what not, claimed also attention; and Prim's trunk

took a good while to fill.

The next thing was a new carpet for the long library at Dr.

Maryland's.

So went the day, with many an other purchasing errand, general

and particular. New Year's gifts for the mill hands and the

children; the supplies for the stores which Rollo was purposing to

open in the Hollow, where all sorts of needful things should be

furnished to the hands at cost prices; an easy chair for Reo, a

watch for Mrs. Boërresen; books, pictures, baskets. In the course

of things Hazel was taken to a Bank, where a dignified personage

was presented to her and she was requested to inscribe her name in

a big book, and a deposit was made to her account. Also a good

down town restaurant was visited, where they got lunch. It was a

regular game of play at last. Rollo bought, as Hazel never before

saw anybody, things he wanted and things he did not want, if the

shopman or shopwoman seemed to be of sorry cheer or suffering

from that sort of slow custom which makes New Year's day a

depressing time to tradespeople. And Hazel looked on silently. It

was so new to her, this sort of buying, and (it may be said) the

buyer was also so new! She did not feel like Wych Hazel, nor

anybody else she had ever heard of, and could hardly find self-

assertion enough to execute her Chickaree commissions when she

saw the right thing. She made a suggestion now and then indeed,—

"strawberry baskets" and "fishing lines" and "worsted." 'Byo says

Trüdchen knit every minute she was at Chickaree,' she remarked.

And every suggestion she made Rollo acted upon as fast. Some

things were ordered at once to Chickaree; others were sent or taken

home with them to the hotel; whither at last, with their work but

half done, the two busy and tired people repaired themselves.

A pile of business letters demanded Mr. Rollo's time after dinner;

and while he was somewhat absorbed in them, Hazel softly

brought a foot cushion to his side and placed herself there. It was

almost a demonstration, the way she did this, but she ventured

nothing further, and sat there still and absorbed in her own

musings. Dark blue silky folds lay all around her, and hands and

arms came out a little from the wide lace sleeves and were crossed

upon her knees. Rollo's eyes wandered to her from his letters once

and again, and finally he tossed them aside, and stooped down to

look at her and pull her curls a little away from her face.

'Business can wait!'—he said. 'What are you musing about,

duchess?'

'O, a host of things!—'

'Take me along.'

'So I have.'

'In what capacity, pray?'

'General Superintendent.'

Rollo began to laugh. 'May I know what I am to superintend?'

'Well,' said Hazel, with a bit of a laugh on her side, 'you were

filling my trunk—and I could not tell how!'

'Why not?' said Dane, drawing a long curl through his fingers.

'Would it be like Prim's?'

'I hope I have more discrimination!'

'As how?'

'Than to think the same things would suit two so different people.'

'O I did not suppose you would muffle me in stone-coloured

merino,' said Hazel,—'but I mean— You know what I mean!'—

'I should not like you as well in stone-coloured merino as in blue.

Should a bird of paradise wear the plumage of a thrush or a quail?'

Hazel looked soberly down at the dark silky waves that rippled

along between her and the firelight. She said not a word. Dane

knew well enough what she was thinking of, but chose to have the

subject brought forward by herself if at all. He paused a minute.

'Would you like a trunk filled like Prim's?'

Hazel trilled her fingers thoughtfully over the hand that lay near

her, and then suddenly asked, 'Does that annoy you?'

'Not much,' said Rollo drily. She glanced up at him.

'Mr. Falkirk used to hate it.—And I forgot what my hand was

about,' said Hazel; sedately folding it again with its small comrade.

From which it as brought back, first to her husband's lips.

'Have we got to the bottom of that trunk yet?'

'There was another point,' said Hazel. '_Should_ I ever get to the

bottom of it?'

'Never!' said Dane. 'If getting to the bottom of it implied using

what you took out.'

Hazel laughed a little.

'That was just how I felt, 'she said. 'But Olaf'—growing sober

again—'after all you do not answer the real intrinsic question.'

'How would you state that, as it presents itself to you?'

'Whether you would fill it _so_,' she said, looking musingly at the

fire. 'So,—not in precise colour, of course, nor exact pattern,—but

in general quality—and plainness—and—' she paused for a word.

Dane said quietly, 'Probably not.'

Hazel went back into an unsatisfied muse.

'One would think,' she said with a half laugh, 'that I was an

inquisitor, and that you were answering under torture!'

'Come,' said he, 'you shall not say that again. Question, and I will

answer straight.'

'Perhaps my questions were not very straight,' said Hazel, still

arguing into the fire. 'But I really did bring two empty trunks from

home for myself—and in all these days—'

It occurred to Rollo that he had heard and seen nothing of any

purchases for herself.

'What in "all these days"?' The words look bare, but the gentle,

fine intonation carried all of caressing tenderness that other people

are wont to express more broadly.

'I have not known what to put in them.'

'How is that? You never found such a difficulty before?'

'No. Nor now. I could fill them both in one hour. But then if I did

not want to take out what was there, I might as well have Prim's at

once.'

'Why should you not wish to take the things out?' said Rollo, with

an inward smile but perfect outward gravity.

'I made up my mind—last winter,' said Hazel rather low, 'that I

should not always like what you like,—and that I would act as if I

did.'

The first part of his answer Rollo did not trust to words; but

presently he told her, half laughing, that he thought she was wrong

in both her positions.

'You think I will—and you think I won't,' said Hazel. 'Is that it?'

'Not at all. Yes, half of it, the first. I think you will, as you say. But

I never want you to act contrary to your own feeling; and if I can

help it, I will not let you.'

Hazel laughed a laugh of frank amusement.

'Always excepting,' she said, 'the few occasions when my "feeling"

does not answer the helm! You see,' she added, growing grave

again, 'I have all my life bought just what I liked, and as much as I

liked, and _because_ I liked.'

'Precisely my own principle. I hope you will do it all the rest of

your life, duchess.'

'Because you hope my likings will be just right. Yes, but how shall

I know? For to begin with, they are as wayward as a west wind.'

'Let us see. What is your motive of choice in buying?'

'Just that I said—what I like. I can tell in a minute what suits me.'

'Beauty, harmony, and fitness, being your guiding objects.'

'Well.'

"Well. You cannot be too beautiful, or too harmonious, for my

delight.'

Hazel sat silent again, thinking, puzzling. 'I wonder if I understand

you?' she said. 'O I have had plenty of comments made on me

before,—I think I was a sort of shock to some people. Good

people, you know,—at least the best I saw; nice quiet old ladies,

and proper behaved young ones. But then—'

'Go on,' said Rollo smiling.

'Well, I used to think they did not know _what_ they were afraid of.

Twenty duck shot would not have mattered, if only the gun had

been wrapped in green baize. It was just the glitter of lock, stock,

and barrel. Even Prim would have been easy if I had worn things

in a heap.'

'You must just reverse those conditions to express my feeling. I

believe we ought to make ourselves as beautiful as we can, for the

highest reasons. Only,—and here perhaps I shall touch the hidden

point you have been feeling after,—there is one other thing which

comes first.'

She looked up, waiting his answer. He looked deep into her eyes

as he gave it, with a slight smile at the same time that was very

sweet.

'Do you remember?—"Seek _first_ the kingdom of God." Therefore,

before even beauty and harmony. So, if I can secure these with one

dollar, don't you see I must not spend two? The Lord wants the

other dollar. He _may_ want both. But generally, for all the purposes

of use and influence, I believe he means us carefully to make

ourselves, so far as we may, lovely to look at.'

Hazel clasped and unclasped her fingers, working out her problem

in the fire again.

'His kingdom in all the world,' she said slowly. 'The harmony

having its keynote from heaven, and then finding its accord in all

one's earthly life. I suppose that was what David meant—"O God,

my heart is fixed; I will sing and give praise, even with my glory."

'—She laid her head down upon her arms and said no more.

'Is the tangle out?' said Rollo gently after a minute.

'That must be the right end of the thread,' said Hazel looking up. 'I

ought to be able to find my way. But I shall have to send my boxes

back empty, and take six months to find out what I want.'

'You do not know of anything that you want at present?'

'I thought I did!' said Hazel with a laugh,—'but how do I know?

Maybe I have enough,—maybe somebody else wants it more.

Olaf—is there an endless perspective of needy people in this

world?'

'What if?' said Rollo. 'What if Life were one long day of ministry?

does that look like a worthy end of life? and does it look pleasant?'

'I think—it does,' said Hazel slowly. 'I mean, I think it will. I have

not looked yet. But then, at that rate—'

'Yes—what at that rate?'

'At that rate,' said Hazel, raising her eyes to his face, 'you would

want the buttons off my gloves as well as off Prim's?'

His fingers were slowly, tenderly, pushing back the curls from her

temples and caressing the delicate brow as he spoke, and his eyes

were grave now with thought and feeling.

'Hazel, I would like to pour flowers before your path all that long

day, and to set you with jewels from head to feet. Diamonds could

not be too bright, or roses too fair. And if the world were all right,

I believe I should dress you so. But it is not all right. Suppose we

were travelling in Greece, and I were captured by those brigands

who fell upon the English party the other day; and suppose the

ransom they demanded exceeded all you had in hand or could

procure—how would you dress till my recovery was effected?'

'That would be you—' said Hazel quickly.

'And what is _this?_—Our Master, in captivity, hungry, sick, and

naked,—literally and spiritually,—in the persons of his poor

people. And the question is, how many can you and I save?'

Wych Hazel rested her chin in her hand and said nothing. She felt

exceedingly like "a mortal with clipped wings." Not that she really

cared so much about dress, or the various other gay channels

wherein she had poured out her fancies; something better than

fancy had stirred and sprung and answered Dane's words in her

heart as he spoke them. And yet the sudden whirlabout to all her

thoughts and habits and ways, was very confusing. So she sat

thinking,—with every dress she had in the world gravely presented

itself, like a spectre, and all the glove buttons insisting upon being

counted then and there. Suddenly, from the waves of blue silk a

little foot started out into the firelight,—a foot half smothered in

trimming; rosetted, buckled, beribboned, belaced. Hazel gazed at

it,—and then gave up, and broke into a clear soft laugh, hiding her

face in her hands. But as the laugh passed, she was very much

ashamed to find that the hidden eyelashes were wet.

Rollo watched her a little anxiously, but waited.

'What can one do but laugh, when one gets to the end of one's

wits?' said the girl, as if she thought it needed explanation. 'Olaf,—

do you remember the time when you drew my portrait as all hat

and wild bushes? I begin to be afraid it was not a caricature, after

all.'

'I am afraid it was. Your representative was hardly gracious or

graceful, if I remember.'

'Didn't I know what you were thinking of me that day!' said Hazel

smiling at the recollection. 'But in serious truth, that is what I have

liked, and what I have done. I have been wayward and wild and

untrained and unpruned,—and then, upon all that I have hung

every pretty thing I could get together. And I don't know what will

be left of me when I am made over all new. Olaf,' she went on

gravely, 'I do understand your harmony,—I see how perfect it is,

taking in all the lowest notes as well as the highest, whereas mine

covered only the poor little octave of my own life. I do see that

every part of one's life ought to be in tone with every bit of outside

work and life-need and life-demand that can ever come. And I

know that only _un_fixedness of heart can make any discord. But

there my knowledge ends!' And Hazel leaned her cheek softly

against his arm, and looked up wistfully.

'How much more knowledge do you want just now?'

'Where to begin.'

'We will begin with one of those trunks to-morrow. I have a

presentiment, that if you do not fill it, I shall.'

Hazel shook her head.

'I fancy I have enough extravagance now on hand to last me some

time,' she said. 'Unless you prefer that I should come down—or

come up!—gradually, and not with a jump.'

'Neither come down nor come up. Only go forward keeping the

harmony we have chosen to walk in. I am so ignorant of all but

men's dress! or perhaps I could speak more intelligibly. But in

general, seek your old ends, of beauty and fitness—only looking to

see that things more precious are not pushed out of the way by

them, or for them.'