Wych Hazel Part 81

'Don't _you_ say "must" to me, Byo!' said the girl impetuously.

But then she started up and flung her arms round Mrs. Byw.a.n.k and kissed her, and said, 'Come, let's have some lunch, then!'--giving half-a-dozen orders to Phoebe as she went along.

But the minute lunch was over, Wych Hazel stepped into her carriage and drove away. Not the landau this time, through the September day was fair and soft; neither was the young lady arrayed in any wise for paying visits; her white cloud of morning muslin and lace, her broad gipsy hat, and gauntlets caught up and carried in her hand, not put on,--so she bestowed herself in the close carriage which generally she used only by night. And the low-spoken orders to Reo were, to take her a road she had never been, and drive till she told him to stop.

Then she threw herself back against the cus.h.i.+ons, and buried her face in hands, and tried to think.

If _that_ was to leave her 'practically to Mr. Falkirk,' her knowledge of English was somewhat deficient. And if belonging to somebody merely 'in idea' had such results!--but she was shy of the 'idea,' blus.h.i.+ng over it there all by herself as she pushed it away. She was disappointed, there was no doubt about that. Foiled of her plan, over which she had pleased herself; for she had intended to give a 'no' instead of a 'yes' at the right place in the charade, to the discomfiture of all parties;--curbed by a strong hand, which she never could bear; hurt and sorrowful that n.o.body would trust her with even the care of her own womanhood.

'I wonder what there is about me?' she cried to herself, with two or three indignant tears rus.h.i.+ng up unbidden. 'As if I had not had a sharper lesson the other night than any _he_ could give!'--No, quite that; the sharpest dated further back; but this would have been enough of itself. And what else was she to do or not do?--she took down her hands, and crossed them, and looked at them as she had done before the picture of the 'loss of all things.' These bonds did not feel like those; she did not like them, none the less;--and--she wondered what was his idea of _close_ guardians.h.i.+p? And had he made any misstatements?--Reo drove on and on, till his practised eye saw that to get home by tea-time was all that was left, and then stopped and got permission to turn round.

But driving seemed to have become a sudden pa.s.sion with Miss Wych. She kept herself out, somewhere, somehow, day after day; denied of course to all visitors, and of small avail to Mr.

Falkirk, except to pour out his coffee. Miss Kennedy was in danger of creating a new excitement; being always out and yet never visible; for one entertainment after another went by, and brought only her excuses.

Either the driving fever cooled, however, or Wych Hazel found out at last that even thoughts may be troublesome company; for she began suddenly to surround herself with invited guests; and one or two to breakfast, and three to dinner, and six to tea, became the new order of things for Mr. Falkirk's delectation. Some favoured young ladies even stayed over night sometimes, and then they all went driving together. Mr.

Falkirk frowned, and Mrs. Byw.a.n.k smiled; and cards acc.u.mulated to a fearful extent in the hall basket at Chickaree.

Rollo among others had been discomfited, by finding the young lady invisible, or, what was the same thing for his purpose, visible to too many at once. This state of things lasted some time, but in the nature of things could not last for ever.

There came a morning, when Mr. Falkirk was the only visitor at the Chickaree breakfast table, and just as Mr. Falkirk's coffee was poured out, Dingee announced his co-guardian.

Well--she knew it had to come; but she could have found in her heart to execute summary justice on Dingee for the announcement, nevertheless. n.o.body saw her eyes,--and n.o.body could help seeing her cheeks; but all else that transpired was a very reserved:

'Good morning, Mr. Rollo. You are just in time to enliven Mr.

Falkirk's breakfast, over which he ran some risk of going to sleep.'

Perhaps Mr. Rollo had a flas.h.i.+ng question cross his mind, whether he had not missed something through lack of a hunter's patience the other night; but he was too much of a hunter to do anything but make the best of circ.u.mstances. He shook hands in precisely his usual manner; remarking that Mr. Falkirk had not had a ride of four miles; took his breakfast like a man who had; and only towards the close of breakfast suddenly turned to his hostess and asked, 'How does Jeannie Deans behave?'

Apparently Hazel's thoughts had not been held fast by the politics under discussion, for she had gone into a deep grave meditation.

'Jeannie Deans?' she said, with her face flus.h.i.+ng all up again. 'Why--very well. The last time I rode her.'

'When was that?'

'Monday, I think, was the day of the week; but I suppose she would have behaved just as well if it had been Tuesday.'

'Then probably she would have no objection to Wednesday?'

'Other things being comfortable,' said Wych Hazel, still keeping her eyes to herself.

'Do you mean, that you and she are in such sympathy, that if she does not behave well you know the reason?'

'I never sympathize with anybody's ill-behaviour but my own,'

said Hazel, 'if that is what you mean.'

'I meant,' said Rollo with perfect gravity, 'that perhaps she sympathized with _yours?_'

'It occurs to me in this connection--talking of behaviour,'-- said Miss Kennedy, 'that I had a question to ask of you two gentlemen, which it may save time--and trouble-- to state while you are both together. Are you attending to me, sir?' she asked, looking straight over at her other guardian now,--'or has your mind gone off to: "Grand Vizier certainly strangled"?'

'My mind never goes off when you begin to state questions, Miss Hazel; knowing that it will probably have work enough at home.'

'This one is extremely simple, sir. Why, when you both agreed that I should have neither saddle-horse nor pony for my own individual use, did you not tell me so at once? Instead of keeping me all summer in a state of hope deferred and disappointment in hand?'

'Shall I take the burden of explanation on myself, sir?' asked Rollo.

'If you like. It lies on you properly,' said Mr. Falkirk, in anything but an amiable voice.

'Then may I order up Jeannie for you?' Rollo went on with a smile, to Wych Hazel; 'and I will explain as we go along.'

'That is to say, there is no explanation, but just the one I had made out for myself. Mr. Falkirk, did I ever practise any underhand dealings with you?' she said.

'Don't begin to do it with me,' said Rollo. 'Suppose you put on your habit, and in half an hour we'll have it all out on the road.'

'Your respective ancestors must have been invaluable in the old Salem times,' said the young lady, arching her brows a little. 'In these days I think truth should win truth.' With which expression of opinion Miss Wych whistled for a fresh gla.s.s of water and dismissed the subject. Not without a smothered sigh, however.

'I did not understand,' said Rollo, 'that expression of respect for our ancestors.'

'Naturally. As I expressed none. But I remember--you belong across the sea; where witchcraft probably is unknown, and so is never dealt with.'

'What would you give as the best manner of dealing with it?'

Rollo inquired with admirable command of countenance.

'I suppose I should let them go their way. But then, being one of the guild, I of course fail to see the danger; and cannot appreciate the mild form of fear which has shadowed Mr.

Falkirk for ten years past, nor the sharper attack which has suddenly seized Mr. Rollo.' She could keep her face too, looking carelessly down and poising her teaspoon.

'What becomes of your kitten, when you are suddenly made aware that there are strange dogs about?' said Rollo again, eyeing her.

'My kitten, indeed!'--said Hazel, with just so much stir of her composure as recognized the look which yet she did not see.

'Did you ever hear of a dog's cajoling a cat, Mr. Rollo?'

'Did _you_ never hear of puss in a corner?'

'Yes,' she said. 'You would not think it, but I am very good at that.'

'You are very good at something else,' said he smiling. 'Will you permit me to remind you, that I have not yet had the honour of an answer to my inquiry whether your witchs.h.i.+p will ride this morning?'

If Mr. Falkirk had been away, it is not sure what she would have answered; but Hazel had no mind to draw out even silent comments from him. So she gave a hesitating answer that yet granted the appeal. Then wished the next moment she had not given it. Would she need most courage to take it back, or to go on?

'If you will excuse me, then, I will go and see to the horses.

I leave you, Mr. Falkirk, to defend yourself! I have been unable to decoy the enemy.'

With which he went off. Mr. Falkirk's brows were drawn pretty close.

'Miss Hazel, I should like to be told, now that we are alone, in what way I have failed to meet "truth with truth"?'

'My dear sir, how you do scowl at me!' said Miss Hazel, retaking her easy manner, now that _her_ enemy was away. 'I only used the word in a popular sense. If I never misled _you_, then you had no right to mislead _me_.'

'How were you misled, Miss Hazel?'

'I supposed, being somewhat simple-minded, that the reason horse, pony, and basket wagon did not appear, was that they could not be found, sir. It shews how ignorant I am of the world still, I must acknowledge.'

'I have no opinion of ponies and basket wagons,' said her guardian. 'And I do not know how well you can drive. And you are too young, Miss Hazel, and too--well, you are too young to be allowed to drive round the world by yourself. When Cinderella, no, when Quickear, sets off to seek her fortune, she goes fast enough in all nature without a pony.'