Rollo walked with the bridle of Vixen
in his hands. Chickaree was reached at last.

'What do you expect to find here?' said he, as they entered
the gate and were going up the ascent.

'Mr. Falkirk.'

'There is much more awaiting you, then, than you expect. Take
care of that acacia branch! See, you must send Dingee, or
somebody--who is your factotum?--down here with pruning tools.
If I didn't know what to expect, I would try hard for a saw
and do it myself this morning. You have scratched your hand!'

'Never mind--yes, I should have kept on gloves, but it was so
warm. What do you expect, Mr. Rollo, besides luncheon? You
will stay for that, won't you?' she said shyly, yet with a
pretty enacting of the hostess. The touch of her own ground
made her feel better.

'I should have to stay for so many other things,' he said,
looking on the ground as he walked. She glanced at him, not
quite sure whether his words covered a negative, and not
choosing to ask.

'All this while you don't know that there is company at
Chickaree.'

'Company?--how do you know?'

'I know by the signs. You will find, I think, Mme. Lasalle up
there, and probably a few of her family.'

'Mme. Lasalle!'

By what connection did not appear, but Miss Hazel's fingers
were immediately very busy disengaging the rose branch from
the button of her habit, where it had hung during the walk.

'I think that is the prospect. But I do not know that I am
under any obligation to meet her, so I think I shall prefer
the company of your vixenish little mare. Not to speak of the
chance of encountering Mr. Falkirk,' said Rollo, lifting his
eyebrows. 'I shouldn't like to stand Mr. Falkirk's shot this
morning!'

'It will hit nobody but me,' she said, rather soberly.

'Is he a good marksman?'

'Depends a little on what he aims at,' said the girl. 'It is
easier, sometimes--as, perhaps, you know--to hit people than
things.'

'Take care!' said Rollo, again, as another obstacle in the
path presented itself; 'I don't mean anything shall hit you
while I have the care of you.' Putting his hands for an
instant on the girl's shoulders, he removed her lightly from
one side of the walk to the other, and then attacked a
sweeping dogwood branch, which, very lovely but very
persevering, hung just too low. It cost a little trouble to
dispose of it.

They were not on the great carriage road, but following one of
the embowered paths which led through the woods. It went
wi