Wych Hazel Part 50
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'It is unfinished.'
'Cannot you do anything without knowing why?'
'Unbusinesslike. But I'll do my best.'
'Well,'--said Hazel, 'I told Mr. Falkirk.--Of course I like to go fast, for its own sake,--and then if I ever had to ride for my life!'--
It was spoken so demurely that only her cheeks betrayed her.
Over their treason the girl grew impatient.
'I just want a fast horse. Don't you know what that means, without explanation?'
'Why no,' said he, probably enjoying his advantage though he held it after his usual undemonstrative fas.h.i.+on. Excepting that his eyes took a further advantage which none others ever did. No flattery in them, nor conventional deference, and nothing like Dr. Maryland's benign regard, or Mr. Falkirk's watchful one. Those eyes went down into hers with a sort of grave taking possession, or holding it; something more than benignity, and coming much nearer than watchfulness. Rollo's manner had often an indefinable tinge of the same expression.
'There are so many sorts of fast horses,' he went on. 'Do you want to run for your life? or canter? or trot?'
'Trot in ordinary--run upon occasion.'
'Is trotting your favourite gait?'
'It is more like the wind,' said Wych Hazel. 'I remember one good canter--but all the rest made one think of the snail that went forward three feet and back two.'
'You must have had an experience! I'll try and secure both for you; but I may not be able, just at first. Don't you want to take p.u.s.s.y in safe keeping again? I am afraid she would not approve of my further companions.h.i.+p.'
'Well--give her to me then,' she said, holding out her hands.
He smiled a little at that, dislodged p.u.s.s.y and placed her in them, then rose up and offered his own.
A party of gentlemen came up the steps as Dr. Maryland and his companions went down. Clearly, the thoughtful time of the morning was at an end.
CHAPTER XXV.
IN THE GERMAN.
There come, sometimes, in certain lives, certain days and weeks which seem to be all adrift and beyond legislation. The people who might exercise control cannot; and the people will not who can; and so the hours sweep on in a rus.h.i.+ng stream of events and consequences, which every now and then flings somebody upon the rocks. Or it may be, in very happy cases, only some _thing;_ but until this is made sure the lookers-on feel anxious.
So felt Mr. Falkirk, a prisoner still with his lame ankle; so felt (probably) Mr. Rollo, called suddenly away by business a hundred miles off. So certainly felt Mrs. Byw.a.n.k, watching her young lady with motherly eyes. But the young lady herself felt quite at ease, and as she had said, 'content.' Why not? With flowers by day and serenade by night; with game from every bag and trout from every hook; with cavaliers starting up out of greensward and woodland whenever she went out; with carriages and hors.e.m.e.n always at the door when she was at home. The serenades indeed were shared impartially with Mr. Falkirk and Gotham; for Wych Hazel still kept her room in the cottage, and was there by night. But the days were often spent in the house on the hill; and the distance between the two was often--to say the least--not made alone. The new saddle-horses had not yet arrived, and no others were countenanced by Mr. Falkirk; but such walks had their facilities, even without the possible indoor extensions which sometimes took place. And for evening purposes an equipage had been arranged which relieved Miss Kennedy of all dependence on her neighbours. Mr. Falkirk's prostrate condition prevented her giving any entertainments as yet; but she went everywhere, with Gotham--grim and trusty--upon the box; and more and more the days, as they went on, brought everybody to her feet. It was excellent fun! For it is really delightful to be liked; and admiring looks you cannot quite meet have yet their fascination, and the words you scarce hear have their charm. Altogether there was a strong flavour of enchantment abroad; and it seemed probable that the prince was somewhere. The princess had not seen him yet, that she knew of; but undoubtedly she was learning that some day she might.
Yet Hazel took the knowledge in a pretty way. Too innately true to flirt, too warm-hearted to trifle, too real a woman to follow in the steps of Kitty Fisher; and, it may be said, thinking far too much of herself to descend from her vantage ground of feminine reserve. Perhaps there was no one thing which caught and _held_ her admirers like this: the real girlish dignity which made them keep their proper distance. The most unscrupulous of them all would as soon have dared anything as to venture (to her) an unauthorized touch, or a word that savoured of freedom. So far, she went safe through the fire.
If she could have known, poor child, what sort of a fire it was; if her thoughts had even dimly imagined what men old in the world may be; no kid glove nor silken tissue would have been deemed thick enough to fend off the contact. But she knew nothing of all that, except by the instinct which now and then gave her a sudden sheer. As it was, she was intensely amused, and half out of her wits with fun and frolic and utter light heartedness; seeing no harm, imagining no evil; quite regardless of Mrs. Byw.a.n.k's wise maxim that what men of sense disapprove, a woman--as a rule--had better not do. And for a while there were not men of sense at hand to give her counsel.
Mr. Falkirk looked on from too great a distance to point his strictures; Gotham's grumbles over the serenades and the cavaliers only helped the excitement. And since Mr. Falkirk would not let her fling her written thanks out of the window, the _spoken_ thanks followed, as a matter of course, and effected quite as much.
And yet, you will say, no harm came, and everything was as it should be. Well, there are some who plunge through the mud ankle-deep; and there are others that got but over shoe; and here and there one that crosses on tiptoe; but you would rather that they all chose a better road. And intoxication is not a good thing, whatever may be the means thereto; and the sweet, fresh years of which Dr. Maryland had spoken, were quite too precious to be spun off to the music of Strauss, or wilted down by late hours, or given up wholly to hearing that Miss Kennedy was the one of all the world. Not so do natures enlarge and characters develop to their fairest proportions; not so do souls grow strong and n.o.ble for the coming work of life.
Kitty Fisher was not exactly jealous of all this--or had too much sense to shew it; but deep in her heart she did wish she could dismount Wych Hazel from her pedestal, that comparisons might be made on level ground. Kitty would not have been timid, for the world; and yet the shy blushes which came as freely as ever to Miss Kennedy's cheeks did somehow give her a pang. And while nothing could have bought off her daring speech and behaviour, she yet knew it _was_ a pretty thing to have the deference which always approached the young lady of Chickaree.
'I must get that out of her,' she said to herself. 'She's bound to give it up. Wait till I get her fairly into the German!'
And so far she succeeded. Miss Kennedy did get 'fairly in,'-- but as yet the rest of the plan had failed. Hazel danced, and led, and followed, in the wildest gaiety, within certain limits; beyond them she would not go; meeting all Kitty Fisher's proposals with a look of incredulous disgust and surprise that generally cut short the business for that time.
And gentlemen who stood by laughed and applauded; and if Hazel had known just _why_ they clapped hands, and just what she was avoiding, she would have wanted to stand no longer in their neighbourhood just then.
b.a.l.l.s followed dinners, and one German came close on the heels of another, with pic-nics, boating parties, croquet parties, and open-air breakfasts; and everywhere the young queen held her court; with beauty, and grace, and money, and a faultless toilet.
Now in the selfishness of this self-seeking world, our interest in a thing, our judgment of it, does very much depend upon its connection with ourselves. Have we any shares in the field for sale?--if not, why, manage it as you will, suns.h.i.+ne and clouds are alike to us. But if we have, the interest of the matter changes at once, and we are blind no more.
Following upon sundry other festivities came a brilliant German at Mme. Lasalle's. Thither came everybody, in proper time; thither, rather late, and fresh-returned from his journey, came Mr. Rollo; and making his way easily along, through rooms ablaze with light and almost faint with flowers, he reached a point where 'The Thread of Destiny' was in full progress, tangling itself up about Wych Hazel. It was impossible not to make her the centre of the group, though six ladies stood there together; and about them all, one end of a long white ribband in his hand, danced Mr. Nightingale--not saying, exactly--
'I wind, I wind, Hoping my true love to find'--
but perhaps thinking it in his heart; for when coil after coil had gone round the blooming prisoners, and the white sheen came suddenly to an end at Wych Hazel, it was with very evident satisfaction that Mr. Nightingale took her hand and led her out--his partner by the thread of destiny.
Nothing could be prettier than she was through it all; neither giggling nor smirking, nor making remarks like Miss Powder and the rest; her lovely shoulders veiled beyond all reach of criticism, her eyes intent upon the ribband, her thoughts intent upon the game. So that when all came to a climax at her, she laughed right out--the merriest laugh of glee and satisfaction. Very pretty!--was it anything more? Do you (apart from dancing) give your daintiest possessions into common hands? Why, you will not let a servant even dust the china shepherdess on your mantel-piece!--but any hands that you know-- and any that you don't know--may touch and clasp and support the young daughters and sisters of your love, and whirl them about the room, as you would not have your shepherdess treated for all the world.
Cajolements did not avail that evening to induce Mr. Rollo to dance; and they were tried. He was in what Wych Hazel might have called a very Spanish mood. Not to her; indeed he never approached her nor sought to interrupt the pretensions of those who crowded round her, courting her favour and wors.h.i.+pping her pleasure, and craving to be made ministers of the same. She was in a throng, and he did not try to penetrate it. Why he stayed so long was a mystery; for what is a German if you do not dance? He was not a mere idle spectator, nor idle at all, it is true; he made himself busy enough, taking elderly ladies to supper and serving younger ones with beef- tea; but those are not engrossing amus.e.m.e.nts. Mme. Lasalle declared he was very useful; and watched to see what it meant; but beyond that he could not be seen to look at anybody in particular, she could resolve herself of nothing. Certainly he took leave a little before Wych Hazel left the room; they were not together, the lady was sure.
CHAPTER XXVI.
IN THE ROCKAWAY.
When, however, a little later, that young lady came forth to her carriage, attended as usual by a retinue of servitors, a single figure was standing by her carriage door. He stood aside to let the devotees put Wych Hazel into the little rockaway which was her sole present equipage; but when the last words had been said and the last man stepped back, Rollo stood at the door before Dingee had time to shut it.
'Will you give me a seat as far as Mr. Falkirk's?' he said, looking in.
Now when you have not seen a person for six weeks or so, a request for a seat in your carriage is not generally the opening remark, and Wych Hazel paused in a sort of astonishment. Then another thing made her hesitate.
'If you will answer it to Mr. Falkirk,' she said. 'You know I am forbidden to give any one a seat in my carriage. Have you a special permit, Mr. Rollo?'
'I never ask for what I cannot have,' he said, jumping in. And then he offered her his hand. 'How do you do?'
'Very well. I should think that must make you an adept in Prim's beloved art of waiting,' said Wych Haze.
'If the lesson must be learnt, I would rather wait before asking. After that, I believe I do not know how to practise it. How do you feel about waiting for your horses?'
'Feeling is dead, and impatience is all tired out with hard work and want of sympathy. So it is pretty quiet just now.'
'Want of sympathy?' he said, inquiringly.
'Yes. I used to fume about it a little, but Mr. Falkirk only said "My dear," and a few other things of a cooing nature.'
'I believe I have brought you what you will like.'
'O, have you?' said the girl, with her musical intonations, and a degree of eagerness which spoke impatience in fair condition. 'You are very good to take so much trouble, Mr.
Rollo! But I am more glad than you can imagine.'
'Then I am very glad,' said he. 'Will you trust me to drive you the rest of the way, if I displace Mr. Gotham? I share your infirmity of impatience sometimes.'
Wych Hazel Part 50
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Wych Hazel Part 50 summary
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