CHAPTER XXIX.

SOCIAL DUTIES.

Solitude and seclusion were at an end. The world had found out

where Hazel was and what she had been doing. So many millions

were out of the market certainly, but still they might be useful in

various ways; and the world came to put in its claim to be

remembered. And invitations began to pour in; and the baskets

which held cards and the like on Hazel's table flowed over and

threatened an inundation. Rollo, every day very busy and still held

fast in the city by business, had so far escaped much personal

contact with the aforesaid world, and only received reports upon it

from Hazel.

'Wych,' he said as he came in one evening just ready for dinner,—

'I have found an old friend to-day.'

'O, are they beginning upon you?' said Wych Hazel. 'I hope it is

not a new one for me?'

'I hope it is a new one for you,' said he, looking somewhat

wonderingly at her. 'Or rather, I hope you will be a new friend for

him. What's the matter?'

'Some day when you come home,' said Hazel, 'you will find this

room tenanted solely by a heap of cards, invitations, enquiries and

congratulations. Exploring therein cautiously, you may perhaps

discover the top of my head!'

'Oh!'—said Dane. 'I will carry you away before it gets to be so bad

as that. This is an old fellow-student of mine, Hazel; an odd,

clever, careless, unselfish fellow, who has never got along in the

world. He took to art, came to America, on account of some family

troubles at home; and here he was a good deal petted in society.

Now he is ill, and alone, and I fear very poor. He is at a boarding

house, where I suspect he cannot pay his bills; quite alone. He had

not a friend. Nor, I am afraid, a sou.'

'And you are going off to take care of him?' said Hazel, facing

round with sudden interest.

'Off, where?'

'Why, wherever he is. To his hotel, or his room.'

'I have just come from him. He is not suffering from acute illness

now; but he is pining away, I think, for want of good food and

fresh air, and home. You see, we were comrades together in

Göttingen; and he comes from over there. He was very glad to see

me.'

'Art?' said Hazel. 'Is he a painter?'

'He was a painter.'

'Do send him off to paint Dr. Maryland's portrait! There is nothing

Prim wants so much; Consign him to Mrs. Bywank.'

Rollo's eye brightened and warmed; but he went on. 'He may never

paint again, Hazel. If we receive him, it _may_ be that it will only be

to see him fade away in the midst of us.'

'Well— What then?' she added softly after a minute.

'It may be a matter of months, Hazel.'

She looked gravely up and down. 'But nothing else—that I can

think of—would be so much like home.'

The kisses which answered her were energetic enough to speak

without words; and when a few minutes later dinner was served,

Rollo came to the table with the air of a satisfied man. And then he

told Hazel stories about Göttingen.

'Prim writes that Mrs. Coles is coming to town,' said Hazel, later in

the meal, when roast venison had superseded student life.

'Prudentia!—When?'

'Next week. Shall we be away?'

'No,' said Dane smiling. 'I wish we could.' And then he was silent,

and the dessert was on the table before he alluded to the subject

again.

'Hazel,' he said suddenly, 'write and ask Prim to come with Mrs.

Coles and stay a few days. It will be a great delight to both of

them.'

'No, indeed,' said Hazel promptly.

'No? why?' said Dane with a laugh in his eyes which he let come

no further.

'I never ask people that I hope will refuse.'

'Ask and hope they will come! Don't you think you and I could

stand Prudentia for a week?'

Wych Hazel glanced at him from under her eyelashes. 'I can stand

most things,' she said, 'that you can. But you must write the letter.'

'Must I? Would you like to state the reason?'

'Hard to state euphoniously. Because—I—do not mean to do it!'

Dane laughed. 'It will not save you from the consequences,' he

said; 'however—'

Hazel raised her brows a little. 'You are forewarned,' she said.

'Then probably you will wish to accept all these invitations?'

'I do not precisely catch the connection of the argument.'

'I thought you seemed to be pining for variety,' she said with a

laugh. 'So I propose, for to-morrow and next day and the day

after,—a breakfast, a wedding, three kettledrums, a dinner, two

receptions, and a ball.'

'Abgeschlagen—' responded Dane, going on with his dinner.

'Which?'

'It would not do to be particular.'

'But you must choose,' said Hazel. 'Or I must.'

'Are you pining for variety?'

'No, I have got it.' This with a half laugh and a pretty flush.

'I am content,' said Dane. 'Then, if you are content, I do not see

what we want further.'

'But it is other people who want us just now.' And Hazel looked

over to her pile of invitations.

'Unfortunate for them.'

'Is it? You will refuse them all? Do you mean that you would never

go anywhere?'

'I do not mean that at all. I am longing to take you to Europe.'

'Yes, but keep to the point.'

'Wait till after dinner, then,' said he laughing.

So they waited; and when the servant had ended his ministrations

and gone, Dane took a position of ease beside Wych Hazel on the

sofa, and gathered up the notes in his hand.

'Now, Wych, what is the question here?'

'Why, as of course—of course I should not go anywhere now

without you, I must know first where you will go,' said Hazel with

one of her pretty shy looks. 'And as some occasions demand— But

I am in inextricable confusion about my dress!'—she said,

breaking off with a laugh. 'I may as well confess it at once.'

'Does my bird of paradise want room to spread her wings?' said he,

looking in her face.

'And shew herself? No, I have done enough of that.'

'If we keep the key-note of life's music clear and true, we shall find

the chords, Wych. How are you in confusion?'

' "If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light," ' she

answered thoughtfully. 'But do you know, light is very confusing

sometimes?'

'No.'

'Yes, it is. When I did not care what I did, I knew exactly what to

do.'

'What is it you are in doubt about now?'

'Everything. Ought I to refuse all invitations, and wear grey serge?

But the reverse of wrong is not right.'

Rollo laughed, while yet he looked serious. 'The question is,

Wych, what we will do with our life? There is not time enough,

nor strength, nor even in our case money enough, to meet the

demands of the gay world and of the other part of the world too.

Do what we will with our millions, there will be poor and suffering

and ignorant people that we cannot reach; and how can we take

hundreds and thousands for dresses and entertainments, when the

work of our Master wants it all? I propose that we be neither

hermits nor wear serge; but go wherever we can get good—or give

it; and dress for the utmost efficiency in both departments. What

do you think of that for a general principle?'

' "Good" '—Hazel repeated. 'I suppose pleasure might sometimes

come under that head.'

'Let us see how much of that article we are refusing just now,' said

Dane drily, taking a still more easy position and turning over the

notes in his hand. 'No. 1, Mrs. Schornstein's reception. I can see

that from here. Crowds, gaslights, twelve inches standing room for

one's body, one's mind in the condition of Noah's dove when the

waters were upon the earth!—Mrs. Lefevre—"German." As I do

not dance, and as you do not, what should we do, duchess?—Mrs.

Post; that will be a repetition of Mrs. Lefevre's, only the rooms

will be dressed with flowers; but we can see flowers any day in a

greenhouse and by daylight, and without the necessity of waltzing

up to them.—Bampton Foulard. Ah, that is a variety! Science and

Literature trying to play puss in the corner, while Fashion sweeps

over the floor and catches their feet in her train. I know Mrs.

Bampton's receptions; they are such a thorough "Durcheinander"

that if you by chance see anything there you want, you can't get it;

nor get at it.—Southgate; the point there is supper; but it is a point

you cannot reach without ardent exertion. I never liked that sort of

exertion.—Barsch; music. And the music will be fearful. I would

rather drive round Central Park till it is over.—Wallings; cards and

supper and dancing.—What do you say, Hazel? It is all one story.

The pleasure is to seek.'

'I was not thinking of my own pleasure. I am not in a going-out

mood. But suppose, pleasure to other people?'

'We will give them all we can, consistently with higher interests.

But our directions are,—"When thou makest a feast, call not thy

_rich_ neighbours."—You see, it is bad economy to take what would

give a year's pleasure to a hundred people, and use it to give

merely a languid moment's satisfaction to a dozen or two.'

'You mean,' said Hazel studying the point,—'at least _I_ should

mean,—that the care and the cost should be kept for people whose

lives are hard and empty.'

Dane was silent a minute. 'Hazel,' said he gently, 'do you dislike to

have Prim come for a few days?'

Hazel paused.

'Don't be curious,' she said. 'Once when a little mouse jumped out

of a dish, nobody could ever get it back again!'

'It would be a great pleasure, to Prim. I think we could bear it for a

week, even with Mrs. Coles? Hey?'

'I dare say you can.—And if I cannot, you will never know,' said

Wych Hazel with a laugh. 'So the way is clear.'

'I know Prudentia wants to consult a physician here. So I will write

at once to Prim—and you will give Mrs. Bywank her orders about

the care of Heinert? And tell her, Wych, that Arthur will be at

Chickaree a good deal also, till we come home.'

Hazel wrought her fingers into a knot of peculiar ingenuity, at

thought of Mrs. Coles, but other remark made none.

A few days more brought the dreaded invasion. The ladies came of

course; and as it fell out, Hazel had to receive them alone, Dane

being down town at his business; for Prim and her sister arrived at

midday, having found it good to spend a night on the road. The

state of jocund delight in which they were, might go far to justify

Rollo in having given the invitation; Prim was beaming, and Mrs.

Coles proudly exultant. To be received into such an establishment;

to be at home there; and without a cent of expense! Visions of

pleasure filled the mind of both sisters; but very unlike; for while

Prudentia dreamed of visits and shops, Prim thought of sitting

beside Dane again, and at his own fireside.

The luncheon which Hazel dispensed to them, could not fail in

such a mood to be greatly enjoyed; and talk flowed freely.

Prudentia, being a guest, felt herself on vantage ground and a good

deal more unrestrained than usual. She was in a patronising mood

generally. But Prim was grateful.

'It seems almost like Chickaree, Hazel,' said the latter, 'to see you

sitting there. And have you all these rooms to yourself? How

delightful! What beautiful rooms!'

'But so high up!' her sister remarked. 'I am surprised that Dane did

not get you rooms on the first floor, Hazel?'

The young mistress of the 'rooms,' it may be noted, was a trifle

grand and stately to-day, and in a particularly unapproachable

dress.

'Yes?' she said calmly. 'I think one's friends very often surprise

one.'

'I know they do,' said Primrose. 'I wonder why they do. Other

people never surprise one so much.'

'And how does Dane behave, in his new character?' Mrs. Coles

went on, sipping her cup of tea with great satisfaction.

'Mr. Rollo is quite well, thank you.'

'To be quite well—with him—used to mean, that he had his own

way,' said the lady blandly, but with a peculiar look over the table.

'Dear me! how delicious this tea is. You don't get such at our little

country shops.—Does it mean the same thing still? Do you let him

have his way as much as he likes?'

'Did you never dare cross him in the old time?' said Wych Hazel

with one of her mild looks of astonishment.

'_I_ dared,' said Mrs. Coles with a smile. 'O yes, _I_ dared, but I was

the only one. I always wondered how it would be with his wife.'

Nobody enlightened her, and the talk passed on to other subjects.

The truce held till the ladies left the table. Then began an

examination in detail of the various articles in the room which did

not come strictly under the head of furniture; and indeed they were

somewhat tempting. For the walls were hung with engravings,

there were one or two nice bits of marble and bronze, and a

number of small useful things which were at the same time made

to be beautiful as well. Primrose sat down to study a fine copy of

the "Shadow of the Cross."

'Do these pictures all belong to the house?' Mrs. Coles asked.

'None of them,' Wych Hazel answered, standing behind Prim's

chair.

'But what a quantity! Have Dane and you been picking all these

up?'

'Picking up—choosing—what you will.'

'My dear!'—

There was a good deal of unspoken thoughts half uttered in the

exclamation, and Mrs. Coles then went on.—'But why don't he

have them in better frames? These are very common, it seems to

me.'

'You think they do not suit the pictures?'

'The pictures are valuable, are they not?—Dane would not have

them, I know, if they were not worth a lot of money; and the

frames—my dear, just look at the frames; little slips of wood

frames, or passepartouts; nothing better. There is not a gilt one

here.'

'No,' said Wych Hazel. 'Look, Prim, how well the plain dark wood

sets off this old cathedral.'

'My dear! don't you think gold would set if off better?' But then

she changed the subject. 'Have you been very gay lately, Hazel?'

Hazel's thoughts were fast getting into a fight. She answered rather

absently,—'I? No.'

'Did you go to Mrs. Schornstein's reception?'

'No, Mrs. Coles.'

'Weren't you invited?'

'O yes,' said Wych Hazel, facing round now. 'I was invited. And I

have been invited everywhere else. And I have staid at home. Now

_I_ shall have the honour of surprising you.'

'My dear!'—said Mrs. Coles, thinking it was not the first time.

'Prim had a letter from Kitty that told us about the Schornstein's

reception, and we thought to be sure you would be there. Why

didn't you go? there, and everywhere else?'

Wych Hazel knit her brows, but then she laughed. 'Prim is so glad,

that she forgets to be curious,' she said. "And Mrs. Coles is so

curious that she forgets to be glad. Why should I have gone?—

there, or anywhere—if you please?'

'My dear!—Society.'

'Yes, ma'am,' said Wych Hazel, meekly waiting for particulars.

'You will offend Society.'

'Shall I? But suppose I have no time to keep Society in good

humour?'

'My dear, that won't do. A honeymoon is all very well; but at this

rate you will lose all your friends.'

'That would seem to indicate that my friends can do without me.

Very mortifying, if true.'

'But Hazel, every one knows it is true in Society. If you do not let

yourself be seen, people will not keep you in mind.'

Wych Hazel stood thinking. Not in the least of Mrs. Coles, but of

what her words called up. So thoughtfully deep in some questions

of her own, that for a minute she forgot to answer her questioner.

'Maybe Dane is willing people should forget you,' the lady went on

chuckling. 'He has got what he wants—that is enough.'

But here Hazel made a vigorous diversion, and insisted that her

guests should go and lie down until it was near time for dinner.

Then she herself stepped into her carriage and went out to think.