emen following; and
she sending them back with laughing words and glances thrown
over her shoulder.

'Now stop just where you are,' she said, turning round. 'I go
into the darkness alone, or the charm will be broken.'

And on she came with her airy tread, and was well in the room
before she saw anybody, and a servant had shut the door. Then
the change on her face was pitiful to see. In the excitement
of the drive and other things that night, she had evidently
forgotten for the time her new trouble. It came back now on
the instant, and for one quick moment she put up her hand to
her forehead as if with sudden pain. Then crossed both hands
upon her breast, and looked down, and stood still.

Rollo quitted the room. Primrose came to Wych Hazel's side and
threw her arms around her.

'It's only I, dear Hazel,' she said in tones of mingled
trouble and tenderness.

Miss Kennedy disengaged herself, not roughly but decidedly,
holding Primrose off, and looking at her.

'What is the matter?' she said. 'Is Mr. Falkirk ill?'

'No, dear.'

'Who then?' said Wych Hazel. 'Prim, never kill people by
degrees.'

'Nobody's ill--nobody! There is nothing the matter with
anybody, Hazel--except you. I've come to take care of you,
dear.'

'Did you?' said the girl. 'I think you want some one to take
care of you, by your looks. But I am rather too busy just now
to read essays on sentiment,--that can wait.' She moved towards
the door; but Primrose made a spring and caught her.

'Wait!--Hazel, you haven't heard what I wanted to say to you.
Don't be angry with me! O dear Hazel, do you know what sort of
times these four-in-hand people make down here?'

'I intend to find out.'

'But they are not fit for you, Hazel, indeed: it is not a fit
place for you to be. Hazel, they are often tipsy when they
drive home. Papa wouldn't let me be in such a place and ride
with them, for anything. How come you to be here?'

Hazel freed herself again with impatient haste.

'Let go of me!' she said. 'The man who drives _me_ home will be
sober. I will not hear any more.'

'Listen, Hazel, listen!' cried Prim, clinging to her. 'O do
not be angry with me! But you ought not be here; and Duke will
not let you stay, dear. We have brought the carriage to take
you home.'

Prim never could tell afterwards what sort of a look or what
sort of a sound answered that; what she did know was that Wych
Hazel was at the door and had it open in her hand. Prim's
ge