The Gold of Chickaree Part 40

The girl's eyes flashed up at him then, as if she thought there was rather less danger of that than of any other one thing in the world.

Then she ran down the steps after her old friend, and gave little finis.h.i.+ng touches to his comfort in the shape of a foot-m.u.f.f and an extra lap-robe, and held his hand for a minute in both hers,?all with very few words and yet saying a great deal. And when Dr.

Maryland reached home, he found that a basket of game had in some surrept.i.tious manner got into his gig.

'Small danger of that!' Hazel thought, going back to his remark, as she went back into the house. But it was not such a question that brought the little hands in so weary fas.h.i.+on over her face. She stood very still for a minute, and then went swiftly upstairs to finish the work which Dr. Maryland had interrupted. _That_ could not wait; and Hazel was learning, slowly, that the indulgence of one's own sorrow _can_. So the work was well done; only with two or three sighs breathed over it, which gave kind Mrs. Byw.a.n.k a heartache for the rest of the day. But then Hazel hastily swallowed a cup of the chicken broth and went off to her room. It had come now, without if or perhaps, and she could only sit down and face it. The one person in all the world to whom she belonged,?the only one that belonged to her!?

For a while, in the bitterness of the knowledge that he was sick, Hazel seemed to herself half benumbed; and sat stupidly dwelling on that one fact, feeling it, and yet less with a sense of pain than of an intolerable burden. A weight that made her stir and move sometimes, as if she could get away from it so. It was no use to tell her not to antic.i.p.ate; to say he was not much sick; that was thin ice, which would not bear. And now on a sudden Hazel found herself confronted with a new enemy, and was deep in the fight.

What then? Only her own will in a new shape.

She had come out so gently and sweetly, so clearly too, from the months of restless perplexity and questioning; she had agreed, she had decided, that her will should be the Lord's will. Now came a sudden sharp test. She had chosen heaven, with earth yet in her hand,?how if earth were taken away? And what if to do the Lord's will should be all that was left her, to fill her life? Did her consent, did her acceptance, reach so far?

And?Oh how hard that was!?to study the question, she must throw full upon it the light (or the darkness) of things that might be. Things that she would not have let any one say to her, knife- edged possibilities, came and went and came again, till Hazel stopped her ears and buried her face in the cus.h.i.+ons and did everything in the world to shut them out. What use? she _had_ to consider them. Was she willing now that the Lord should do what he pleased with _him?_?She could not word it any other way. And the fight was long: and time and again pain came in such measure that she could attend only to that. And so the day went by, with occasional interruptions, and then the unbroken night.

She could submit,?she must _submit:_ could she accept? Nothing was anything without that. And she was getting almost too worn out to know whether she could or not. So she would sit, with her face buried in her hands, putting those fearful questions to herself, and with answering s.h.i.+vers running over her from head to foot.

Then would come an interval of restless pacing the floor, thinking all sorts of things; chiefly, that the very minute it was light she would set off for Morton Hollow. What would that serve? what could she do, if she were there? But one Hand could meddle with these things, and work its will. And for a while a bitter sense of the Lord's absolute power seemed to lie on her head and heart till she felt crushed. She could not walk any longer, she could not debate questions; she could only lay her head against the arm of the chair and sit still, bearing that dull pain, and starting at the sharp twinges that now and then shot through it.

There came to her at last, as she sat there, suddenly, the old words.

Words read to her so long ago, and learned so lately. They had reached her need then, and there she had in a sort left them, bound up with that. But once more now they came, so new, so glorious, all filled with light.

"For the love of Christ constraineth us"!?The key to life work, but no less to life endurance. And the key turned softly, and the bolts flew back, and Wych Hazel covered her face saying eagerly, 'Yes, yes!'?

But then, even with the saying, she broke quite down, and a stormy flood of tears swept over her, and left her at last asleep.

There was no going back when the day dawned. But Hazel soon found that this question was not to be ended once for all, like the other. It came up anew with each new morning, and must be so met, and answered: in full view of what unknown possibilities the day might bring or the night have brought, the a.s.senting 'yes' must be spoken. The struggle was long, sometimes, and sometimes it was late before she left her room; but those who saw her face of victory when she came would remember it always.

Still, the days were long. And hearts are weak; and Hazel grew exceedingly weary. Chafing most of all against the barriers that kept her from Morton Hollow. At first, when Dr. Maryland left her that night she thought she should go with the sunrise next day.

Then recollected herself.

'I said I would follow his bidding _if I could_,' she remembered,?

'and I _can_ wait one day.'

And so she _could_ wait two, and so she waited on. One day she _must_ go; the next, she would write and ask permission. 'But he never asked me to write!'?she thought suddenly, covering her face in shame. 'What would he think of me?' But oh, why had he given such orders??

It was the old story,?she was supposed to have no discretion.

'I dare say he thought I should rush over if I had a fingerache!' she said with some natural indignation. Was she then really so little to be trusted? Wych Hazel sat down to study the matter, and as usual, before the exercise had gone on long, she began to foot up hard things against herself. How she had talked to him that night!?

what things she had told him! Then afterwards, what other things she had proposed to do,?propositions that were stamped at once with the seal of impropriety. Hazel pressed her hands to her cheeks, trying to cool off those painful flushes. Well?he should see now!?She could wait, if he could. Which praiseworthy climax was reached?like the top of Mount Was.h.i.+ngton?in a shower of rain. But the whole effect of the musings was to make her shrink within herself, and take up again all the old shyness which had been yielding, little by little, before the daily intercourse of the month past. Prim found her very stately over reports, after this; and even good Dr. Maryland would often fare no better, and betake himself home in an extremely puzzled state of mind. That the girl was half breaking her heart over the twofold state of things, n.o.body would have guessed. Unless, possibly, Mrs. Byw.a.n.k.

Meantime, the purchase of the Hollow property from Gov. Powder had been completed; and the fine fall weather tempting people to stay and come, and the region being thus all full of guests, Chickaree had been regularly besieged during most of these two months. And almost at the time the sickness broke out in the Hollow, Mr. Falkirk had been summoned to England, where his only remaining sister was living, with the news that she was very ill. Mr. Falkirk had nevertheless stood to his post, until the fever was gone in the Hollow and he saw that Rollo would soon be able to resume his place. And then he had gone, much to Wych Hazel's disgust. 'It seems,' she said, 'that I can never want anybody?even my own guardians,?so much as somebody else!'

CHAPTER XX.

ABOUT CHRISTMAS.

The days lingered along, but no worse news came. Rollo was slowly regaining his usual condition. Still December was half gone before with all his good will he could undertake the drive from the Hollow to Chickaree.

Late one afternoon Dr. Arthur set him down at the old house door.

A cool winter breeze was fitfully rustling the dry leaves and giving a monitory brush past the house now and then; whispering that Christmas was near, and snow coming. Staying for no look at the sunlight in the tree-tops, Rollo marched in and went straight to the red room. He stood suddenly still on opening the door. No one was there, not even the presence of a fire, but chair and foot-cus.h.i.+on stood as they had been left two months before; the ashes had not been removed, and the flowers in the vase had faded and dropped with no renewal. Rollo next went down the hall to Mrs. Byw.a.n.k's quarters. Here a side door stood open, and Mrs. Byw.a.n.k herself stood on the steps shading her eyes and gazing down the road.

'What are you looking for, Mrs. Byw.a.n.k?' said a cheery voice behind her.

'Mr. Rollo!' cried the old housekeeper turning with a delighted face. 'I am glad to see you again sir, surely! And well-nigh yourself again! I am just looking for Miss Wych?it is time she was home.'

'Where is she?'

'Off and away,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k, with the smile of one who knows more than his questioner. 'She's a busy little mortal, these days.'

'What does she find to be busy about?'

'I should like to tell you the whole story, sir,?if we had time,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k with a glance down the road. 'She'll never tell?and I think you ought to know. Step this way, Mr. Rollo, and you can see just as well and be more comfortable.'

Mrs. Byw.a.n.k led the way to a little corner room where fire and easy chairs and a large window commanding the approach.

'I suppose you'd like to hear, sir,' she said as she replenished the fire, 'how the world has gone on down this way for two months back?'

'Very much,'?Dane said gravely, with however a restless look out of the window.

'Well sir, about the first days I cannot say much. I hardly saw Miss Wych at all. She used to dress up and come down and meet Mr.

Falkirk, and then she'd go back to her room, and there she staid.

Only she'd given me orders about the articles for the Hollow.

'So one morning, just as the beef and things were brought into my kitchen, and one of the maids had gone down for a kettle, in walked Miss Wych. 'Byo,' says she, 'I am going to make everything myself in future.'?'But my dear!' said I, 'you do not know how.'

'I am going to learn,' says she.

'Well,' said I, 'you can look on and learn.'

'I will do it and learn,' says she?and she marched right up to me and untied my big ap.r.o.n and put it on herself; for I don't believe _then_ she had an ap.r.o.n belonging to her.'

Without ceasing to keep watch of the window, Dane's eyes gave token of hearing and heeding, growing large and soft, with a flash coming across them now and then.

'It's a nice business to hinder Miss Wych when she has a mind,'

Mrs. Byw.a.n.k went on; 'but I couldn't see her tiring herself over the fire?so I said, 'But my dear, think of your hands! No gloves!'

'What about my hands?' says she.

'Cooking is bad for them, Miss Wych,' says I.

'Is it?' said she. 'Well, they've had their share of being ornamental.

What is the first thing to do, Byo?'

'So I felt desperate,?and said I, 'My dear, when Mr. Rollo comes back he will not like to find your hands any different from what they are now.'?She turned round upon me so,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k laughing a little, 'that I didn't know what she would say to me for my impertinence. However, she only gave me one great look out of her eyes, and then stood looking down at her hands, and then she ran off,?and was gone a good little while. And I felt so bad I couldn't set to work nor anything, till at last I knew it must be done, and I told the girl to set the kettle on. And just then back she came, looking?Well, you'll know some day, sir, how Miss Wych _can_ look,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k with dim eyes. 'However, the gloves were on; and she just took hold, steady and quiet as an old hand, and never opened her lips but to ask a question. Of course I sat by and directed, and I kept a girl there to lift and run; but from that day Miss Wych made every single thing that went to the Hollow?

or to you, sir?with her own little fingers. So that kept her fast all the mornings.'

Dane's eyes did not leave the window. His lips took a firmer compression.

'Then in the afternoons she just shut herself up again,?and I knew that would no do, and I begged her to go out. So she said at last she couldn't go and come without such a train?and it did seem as if people were bewitched, sure enough,' said Mrs. Byw.a.n.k. 'I think there never _was_ such a run on the house. What with you sick and Mr. Falkirk somehow not taking much notice?You know he's gone, sir?'