"They are safe to eat grapes in the shape of ants and flies for the term of their natural lives," said Rollo contentedly.
He did not care for Mr. Morton. Indeed he looked as if it would be difficult to disturb him, more than superficially, about anything. And that, not for want of elements of disturbance, but because of other elements of character, which in their strength slumbered, and perhaps were scarcely self- conscious. The last words moreover were a shield over Wych Hazel"s possible shyness. However it was, Mr. Falkirk looked across from the orchids to him, and considered him somewhat fixedly.
"If we are not to get them out of the basket--but that would be very like a fairy tale--will you see to the matter of the horses, Rollo?"
"If Miss Kennedy commands me," he said, with a smile. But Miss Kennedy was in a mood to keep her distance.
"I have told Mr. Falkirk," she said. And now came up the question of her engagement at Moscheloo; if she was going, she ought to be off, and it appeared that there was no vehicle on the place in fit order to take her. Mr. Falkirk proposed to send to Crocus.
"Too far," said Rollo. "Suppose you put yourself in the saddle, and let me convoy you over to Moscheloo? It"s good for a ride, this morning."
"I thought you wanted Vixen?" said the girl, turning towards him.
"_You_ don"t."
"Do you know what I do want, as well as what I do not, Mr.
Rollo?"
"The trouble is, it is not to be had to-day. But there is the grey cob. Always take the best there is to be had. Put on your habit, and I"ll give you a very decent canter across the country to Moscheloo. Come!" he said, with a look compounded of sweetness and raillery. But raillery from Rollo"s eyes was a little keen.
She laughed with a pretty acknowledgment of the raillery, but a first did not answer. It was a great temptation! The breakfast had left her excited and restless, and to get away from it all--to have a canter in the fresh wind! Then, she hated the very name of the grey cob!--She looked over to Mr.
Falkirk. He was looking at her earnestly, but he did not speak.
"Shall I do that, sir?"
"If you go, you cannot do better," he said, in a tone which certainly signified a want of satisfaction at something; but that was not unprecedented in their discussions.
"But my habit!--O well, I can manage that. Then will you be ready very soon, Mr. Rollo?"
Dane was ready, there was no doubt of that; but Mr. Falkirk was on the verandah also, when the little mistress of Chickaree come forth to be mounted; and for the occasion the red squirrel went back to the old grave punctilio of manner he could a.s.sume when he pleased.
That was all the surrounding pairs of eyes could see; a grave deference, a skilful care in performance of his duties as Wych Hazel"s squire. But to her, out of ken of all but herself, there was an expression of somewhat else; in every touch and movement and look, an indescribable something, which even to her inexperience said: "Every bit of your little person, and everything that concerns it, is precious to me." Not one man in many could have so shewn it to her, and hidden it from the bystanders. It was a bit of cool generalship. Then he threw himself on his own horse, like the red squirrel he was, and they moved off slowly together.
Well, she was not a vain girl, having quite too much of a tide in her fancies, notions and purposes to be stopping to think of herself all the while. So, though Rollo"s manner did make her shy, it stirred up no self-consciousness. For understanding may sleep, while instincts are awake. It was very pleasant to be liked, and if she wondered a little why he should like her--for Miss Kennedy was certainly not blind to some of her own wayward imperfections--still, perhaps the wonder made it all the pleasanter. She was not in the least inclined to take people"s attentions in any but the simplest way (if only they were not flung at her by the basketful); and in short had no loose tinder, as yet, lying round to catch fire. Perhaps that says the whole. So she was about as grave and as gay, as timid and as bold, by turns, as if she had been seven years old.
"I promised you a canter," said her companion, taking hold of her bridle to draw the grey aside from a bad place in the road. "Next time you shall have a gallop--so soon as I can find what will do for you. Never mind for to-day."
"You think this most respectable horse could so far forget himself as to canter?"
"Try."
And away they went, with that elastic, flying spring through the air which bids spirits bound as well, and leaves care nowhere. For the old grey had paces, if his jollity was somewhat abated; and Vixen went provokingly, minding her business like one who thought she had better. Nevertheless it was a good canter.
"You will be a good rider," said Rollo, when at length they subsided to a trot, stretching out his hand again and drawing Wych Hazel"s reins a little further through her fingers.
"There, that is quite enough for him, steady as he is. Do you keep so free a rein in the household as you do in the saddle?"
"There has been no household--and no bridle, except for me."
"Is Mr. Falkirk partial to a short rein?"
"What is "short?" " she said with a laugh. "That is an utterly unsettled point. Are women never appointed guardians, Mr.
Rollo?"
"Certainly," said Rollo, gravely. "Always, when they marry."
She glanced at him, doubting whether he might be laughing at her.
"But I mean as Mr. Falkirk was."
"Not often; but it occasionally happens. I congratulate you that your case was not such."
"Ah, you do not know!" she said quickly, with a sort of outbreak of impatience.
"You don"t know either," said he.
"Yes I do. Not much about women to be sure--I have known very few. But I do know Mr. Falkirk, and love him dearly, and think a great deal more of him than you possibly can, Mr. Rollo."
"I have thought a great deal about him," said Rollo, in a sort of dry, innocent manner. "But I will tell you--a man"s guardianship leaves you a moral agent; a woman"s changes you into a hunted badger; and if you were of some sorts of nature it would be a hunted fox. You know I have been under guardianship too?"
"Yes, but I thought it was Dr. Maryland"s?" she said looking at him with astonished eyes. "And you speak--Ah, you do not know, as I said, after all. You never wanted anything that a man could not give you."
He laughed a little, his eye brightening and changing as he looked at her with a very winning expression.
"I had all that a man could give me. Dr. Maryland was father and mother in one, gentle and strong. But I have been in wardship under a woman too, partially, and it was as I tell you. Dr. Maryland would say: "Dane, don"t go there," or "let that alone," and I _did_, except when a very wicked fit got hold of me. But _she_ would stick a cushion with pins, to keep me out of it, and if she wanted to keep a cup from my lips she rubbed gall where my lips would find it."
"_Two_ guardians!" said Wych Hazel; "so that queer woman at Catskill thought _I_ had. But it is a great deal harder to have a man find fault with you, nevertheless."
"Why?" said Rollo, laughingly and seriously too.
"They are so quick in their judgments," said the girl; "so sure about the evidence. The jury agree without retiring, and sentence is pa.s.sed before you are summoned to attend your own trial. You are out of play; you suddenly find yourself convicted of manslaughter in the fourth degree--or the fiftieth; it makes no difference." The words came out with her usual quick emphasis, and then Miss Hazel remembered that one or two of her words were suggestive. She flushed very much, drooping her head.
"Coroner"s inquest?" said Rollo, with a mixture of gentleness and fun. But she made no answer, unless by the soft laugh which hardly let itself be heard. He stretched out his hand again, laying it this time lightly upon hers, altering its bearing.
"Curb him in a little more," said he, "a little--so. Now touch him gently on the shoulder. What is it you think you miss so much in a man"s guardianship?"
She looked round at him then--one of her girlish, searching looks, resolving perhaps how far it was safe to be confidential.
"A good many things, Mr. Rollo," she answered, slowly. "I do not believe you could understand. But I would rather have fourteen lectures from Mrs. Byw.a.n.k than just to hear one of Mr. Falkirk"s stiff "Miss Hazels." "
"I cannot remember any lectures from Mrs. Byw.a.n.k," said Rollo, looking as if his recollections in that quarter were pleasant-- "which were not as soft as swansdown. But here we are coming to Moscheloo. How much do you know about fishing?"
"Rather less than I do about anything else. O, I remember Mrs.
Byw.a.n.k said she used to know you."
"Mrs. Byw.a.n.k is an old friend. In the times when I had, practically, two guardians--though only Dr. Maryland held the position officially--when there was n.o.body at Chickaree, I used to go nutting in your woods and fishing in the same brook which will, I hope, give me some trout to-day; and when I was thoroughly wetted with a souse in the water, or had torn my clothes half off my back in climbing to the tops of the trees, I used to carry my fish ad my difficulties to Mrs. Byw.a.n.k. She cooked the one and she mended the other; we eat the fish in company, and parted with the promise to meet again. Seems to me I ought to have had lectures, but I didn"t get them from her."
"Well, that is just it," said Hazel, with her earnest face.
"She understood."
"Understood what?" said Rollo, smiling.