as not the first time Wych Hazel had confessed to herself
that tea trays are a great institution; nor the first time she
had found shelter behind her occupation. Very demurely she
poured out the tea, and listened sedately to the talk between
the gentlemen; but it was with extra gravity that she at last
put her fingers in. She never could guess afterwards how she
had dared.

'Do you think he looks _much_ like a ruined man, Mr. Falkirk?'
she said, in one of the pauses of their talk.

A flash of lightning quickness and brightness came to her from
Rollo's eyes. Mr. Falkirk lifted his dumbly, not knowing how
to take the girl. He had not, so far in the talk, touched the
subject of Mrs. Coles' communications, though no doubt they
had not been out of his mind for one instant. But somehow, Mr.
Falkirk had lacked inclination to call his younger coadjutor
to account, and probably was hopeless of effecting any
supposable good by so doing. Now he stared wonderingly up at
Wych Hazel. She was looking straight at him, awaiting an
answer; but fully alive to the situation, and a little bit
frightened thereat, and with the fun and the confusion both
getting into her face in an irresistible way. Mr. Falkirk's
face went down again with a grunt, or a growl; it was rather
dubious in intent. Rollo's eyes did not waver from their
inquisition of Wych Hazel's face. It was getting to be hot
work!--Hazel touched her hand bell, and turned away to give
orders, and came back to her business; sending Mr. Falkirk a
cup of tea that was simply scalding. Her bravery was done for
that time.

'What have you been doing this winter?' Mr. Falkirk finally
concluded to ask.

'Investing in new stock,' Rollo answered carelessly.

'Don't pay, does it?'

'I think it will. Money is worth what you can get out of it,
you know.'

'Pray, if I may ask, what do you expect to get out of it in
this way?'

'Large returns'--said Rollo very calmly.

'I don't see it,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'I hope you do; but I
can't.'

'You have not the elements to make a perfect calculation.'

Rollo, it was plain, understood himself, and was in no
confusion on the subject. Mr. Falkirk, either in uncertainty
or in disgust, declined to pursue it. He finished his tea, and
then, perhaps, feeling that he had no right to keep watch over
his brother guardian, much to Wych Hazel's discomfiture, he
took up his book and marched away.

Rollo left the table and came round then to a seat by