‘O, but!—­’ said Hazel hastily,—­the sentence ending in crimson cheeks, and the shyest veil of reserve dropped over her face.

‘I might question here,’ said Rollo in an amused tone, and eyeing her inquisitively; ’but I have done it so often,—­I leave the ground to you.  What next?’

‘What next’ seemed to have flown away.

’Does Collingwood engross all the thoughts that go back to Chickaree?’

A sidelong glance of the brown eyes was all that Mr. Rollo got by that venture.

How is Truedchen?’ she asked gravely.

‘Flourishing.  Asks after you whenever she gets a chance.’

’Mrs. Boerresen of course is well, as she has had you to look after?’

’Gyda is happy.  It is a comfort to her to have to make fladbrod for two.’

’It must be a comfort to you to eat it!—­How is poor Mr. Morton?  I felt for him when I heard you had turned his world upside down.’

‘What did you feel for him?’ said Rollo quite innocently.

’You have asked all your questions.  I think it would be proper now,’ said Wych Hazel, folding her hands and controlling the curling lips, ’that you should go on and tell me all there is to be told, and save me the trouble of asking any more.’

‘I do not wish to save you the trouble.’

’It is good practice occasionally to do what you do not wish.  Instructive.  And full of suggestion.’

‘Suggestion of what?’

‘Try, and you will know.  I doubt if you ever did try,’ said Wych Hazel.

’I tried it last night and yesterday morning, when I was turned away from your door with the announcement that you were out.’

‘But you did not leave your name!’ said Hazel, looking up.

‘I found it “suggestive” too,’ Rollo went on.  ’I do not know whether you would like me to tell you all the things which it suggested.’

‘How is everybody else at home?’ said Hazel, changing her ground.  ‘I heard Miss May had been sick.’

The answer tarried, for Mr. Falkirk came in, and perhaps Rollo forgot it, or knew that Wych Hazel had; for it was never given.  He entered into talk with Mr. Falkirk; and did his part well through the rest of the evening.  Then, Mr. Falkirk expressing the surmise, it was hardly put in the form of a hope, that they would see him to breakfast or dinner, Rollo averred that he was going immediately home.  He had done his work in town, and could not tarry.  No remark from the lady of the house met that.  Indeed she had been sitting in the silentest of moods, letting the gentlemen talk; having enough to think of and observe.  For absence does change, even an intimate friend, and both lifts and drops a veil.  Old characteristics stand out with new clearness; old graces of mind or manner strike one afresh; but the old familiarity which once in a sort took possession of all this, is now withdrawn a little,—­we stand off and look.  And so, secretly, modestly, shyly, Wych Hazel studied her young guardian that night.  But when he had risen to go, the faintest little touch from one of her finger tips drew him a step aside.