"Is that old woman in the cottage a friend of yours?"
"I never saw her before the other day."
"She lost no time! A little garrulous, isn"t she? I made acquaintance there one day when I went in to light a cigar. I have a mind to ask you to give me the distinction I am ready to claim, of being your oldest acquaintance in these parts. I think I shall claim it yet. Let me look at the state of your hook."
They dropped their lines in the brook again, but no fish were caught, and fish might cleverly have run away with their bait several times without being found out. The conversation was lively for some time. Stuart had sense and was amusing, and had roamed about the world enough to have a great deal to say.
The pair were not agreeably interrupted after half an hour by Mme. Lasalle, who discovered that Wych Hazel was fishing where she could get nothing, and brought her down the brook to the close neighbourhood of Miss Powder, where Stuart"s attentions had to be divided. But so the two girls had a chance to see something of each other; a chance which Miss Powder improved with manifest satisfaction. She was a wax-Madonna sort of beauty, with a sweet face, fair, pure, placid, but either somewhat impa.s.sive or quite self-contained in its character.
Her figure was good, her few words showed her not wanting in sense or breeding.
Wych Hazel was by this time far enough out of the reserve of first meetings to let the exhilarating June air and sunshine do their work, and her voice, never raised beyond a pretty note, was ready with laugh and word and repartee. Now studying her hook, now questioning Miss Powder, now answering Mr.
Nightingale, and then seriously devoted to her fishing,--she shewed the absolute sport of her young joyous nature, a thing charming in itself, even without so piquant a setting. It was no great wonder that a gentleman now and then took ground on the opposite side of the brook, and directed his eyes as if the fish would only come from that point of the sh.o.r.e where Miss Kennedy sat. This happened more and more, as by degrees the line of fishers was broken and the unskilled or unsuccessful, tired of watching the water, gave it up, and strolled up the brook to see who had better luck. And so few fish were the result of the day"s sport, so many of the company had nothing better to do than to look at what somebody else was doing, that by degrees nearly the whole party were gathered around that spot where Wych Hazel had caught the first fish. They were relieved, perhaps, that the effort was over; perhaps the prospect of going home to dinner was encouraging; certainly the spirits of all the party were greatly enlivened by something. Mme. Lasalle"s ears heard the pleasant sound of voices in full chorus of speech and laughter all the way home.
It was rather late before Madame"s carriage could be ordered to take Miss Kennedy home. Mme. Lasalle herself attended her, and would suffer the attendance of no one else. A young moon was shedding a delicious light on the Lollard poplars past which Wych Hazel had cantered in the morning. It was an hour to be still an enjoy, and think; but did Mme. Lasalle ever think? She ceased not to talk. And Wych Hazel, after her day of caressing and petting and admiration, how was she? She had caught the first fish; she had been queen of the feast; she had given the first toast, she had received the first honours of every eye and ear in the company. Her host and hostess had lavished all kindness on her; ladies had smiled; and gentlemen, yes, six gentlemen had come down the steps to put her into the carriage. But if she wanted to think, Mme.
Lasalle gave her no chance.
"Where shall you go to church on Sunday, my dear?" she asked on the way.
"Dr. Maryland"s, of course, ma"am."
"O, that"s where we all go, of course; delightful creature that he is. And yet he rebukes every single individual thing that one does. Dear Dr. Maryland, he"s so good, he don"t see what is going in his own family. Do you know, it makes me unhappy when I think of it. But, my dear, that"s the very thing I wanted to talk to you about,--Miss Powder, you"ve seen her, aren"t you pleased with her?"
"She was very pleasant to me."
"She is that to everybody, and her mother is a very fine woman. Now, my dear, you will be at your pleasure, seeing your friends at Chickaree--couldn"t you contrive to bring Dane and Annabella together again?"
"I?" said Wych Hazel, surprised. "Why, I do not know how to contrive things for myself."
"O! I do not mean anything complicated--that never does well; but you could quite naturally, you know, give them opportunities of seeing each other pleasantly. I think if he saw her he might come round again and take up his old fancy; and you being a stranger, you know, might do it without the least difficulty or gaucherie; they would meet quite on neutral ground, for n.o.body would suspect that you were _au fait_ of our country complications. I dare not stir, you see; that was the reason I could not invite Dane to our fishing to-day.
I knew it wouldn"t do. This was my plot for you, that I told you about--what do you think? It would be doing a kind thing, and hurting n.o.body, at any rate."
It did come to Miss Kennedy"s mind that Mr. Rollo was quite capable of "contriving" his own situations; but she answered only, "Would it, ma"am?"
"It couldn"t do any harm, you know. And you are the very person to do it. And then, if your plan should succeed, it would have another good effect, to put Primrose Maryland in safety."
If it had been daylight instead of moonlight, Mme. Lasalle might have seen the young face at her side knit itself into a very perplexed state indeed at these words; and the more Hazel thought the deeper she got.
"It would be quite natural, you know," Mme. Lasalle went on after a pause, "that a girl like her should be fascinated, and Rollo, without meaning to do any harm, would give her cause enough. He _is_ fascinating you know, but he is too cool by half. Dr. Maryland, of course, never would see or understand what was going on; and Primrose is so sweet and inexperienced.
I know her sister was very uneasy about it before Rollo went away--so long ago. I fancy his going was partly thanks to her care."
Closer and closer came the dark brows together, until by degrees her extremely fancy-free thoughts took a turn. "What a fuss! what was Mme. Lasalle talking about? "Fascinating,"
forsooth!--she should like to see anybody that could fascinate her." And so the whole thing grew ludicrous, and she laughed, her soft ringing, girlish laugh.
"What a pirate he must be, Mme. Lasalle. A true Dane! Do many of that sort live on sh.o.r.e?"
"Take care!" said the lady in a different tone--"dangers that are slighted are the first to be run into."
The carriage stopped at that moment, so Wych Hazel had no need to reply. She watched Mme. Lasalle drive off, took a comprehensive view of the moon for a minute, and then pirouetting round on the tips of her toes she flashed into the sitting room and favoured Mr. Falkirk with a courtesy profound enough for her grandmother.
CHAPTER XVII.
ENCHANTED GROUND.
Mr. Falkirk was sitting with the paper in the tea-room at Chickaree. A good lamplight gave him every temptation to lose himself in its manifold pages, but somehow the temptation failed. Mr. Falkirk had been walking the floor for part of the evening; going then to one of the long windows and throwing it open--there were no mosquitoes at Chickaree--to look out at the moonlight, or perhaps to listen for the sound of wheels; but the Summer stillness was only marked by the song of insects and the light stir of leaves, and Mr. Falkirk went back to his musings. His hand caressed his chin sometimes, in slow and moody deliberation. No doubt the change was a serious one, from the quiet, unquestioned care of a schoolgirl, to the guardianship of a bright, full-winged b.u.t.terfly of humanity.
That does not half express it. For to the airy uncertainty of b.u.t.terfly motions, his ward certainly added the intense activities of a humming bird, and the jealous temper, without the useful proclivities, of a honey bee. I think Mr. Falkirk likened her to all these in his meditations; and his brows knit themselves into a persistent frown as he walked. For all that, when the wheels of Mme. Lasalle"s carriage grated on the gravel sweep, Mr. Falkirk sat down to the table and the newspaper, and as Wych Hazel opened the door and walked in, Mr. Falkirk looked up sedately. Then his face unbent, a very little, but he waited for her to speak.
"Good evening, my dear Mr. Falkirk!" Mr. Falkirk was not morose, but he made little answer beyond a smile.
"I perceive you have been pining for my return, sir," said Miss Hazel advancing airily; "but why you do not revive when I come, _that_ puzzles my small wits. Are you overjoyed to see me safe home, Mr. Falkirk?"
"I wait to be certified of the fact, Miss Hazel."
She came to a low seat before him, silently crossing her arms on her lap.
"What are the developments of fortune, to-day, Miss Hazel?"
said her guardian with a relaxing face.
"A number of gentlemen, sir, and one fish. Which I caught.
There were some ladies, too, but they came less in my way."
"Um! So I understand you catch all that come in your way?"
"Only the fish, sir. But you should have heard the people thereupon! One cried, "Happy fish!"--and another, "Happy Miss Kennedy!"--And yet I suppose we had both of us known more ecstatic moments."
"And what is your impression of fishing parties, judging from this specimen?"
"O, I was amused, of course. But the brook was delicious. You know, it was all new to me, Mr. Falkirk."
"Like the fairy-tale you wanted?" said her guardian smiling.
She smiled, too, but her answer was only a sweet, "Are you glad to see me here, sir?"
"I am glad if you are glad, Miss Hazel. I did not suspect that any genie or enchanter had got hold of you yet."
"Only "if," " she said to herself. "I wonder how it feels to have anybody care for one very much!" But no word of that came out.
"Are _you_ glad to get home, Miss Hazel?"
"Yes, sir. The drive was rather stupid."
"Did you come alone?"
"I had Madame in person, and with her all the unquiet ghosts of the neighbourhood, I should judge,"--added Miss Hazel thoughtfully slipping her bracelets up and down.
"Scandal, eh?" said Mr. Falkirk. "And yet the drive was stupid!"
"Incredible, sir, is it not? But you see, I had been ever so long face to face with the brook!--"