‘I am not much in the habit of answering people,’ said Hazel frankly.  ‘You will find that out if you see enough of me.’

‘Ain’t you?  Why?’ asked the young lady ingenuously.

’Because I do not like to be questioned.  You perceive no fault can be found with my reasons,’ she added with a smile.

’Then you do like him, I know.  People are never afraid to tell their dislikes.  Why!—­is that’—­

A broken-off inquiry here was never finished, the answer to it in fact being furnished by the coming near of Rollo whose distant appearance had first suggested it.  He came up on the verandah, shook hands with Mrs. Powder, but gave the other ladies one of what Wych Hazel used to know, as his Spanish greetings; courteous and distant equally.  Dr. Maryland had before this finished his colloquy with the ex-Governor’s lady and departed.  Rollo now took his place and talked to Mrs. Powder, while for a few minutes Annabella used her eyes, as much as she could, and Miss Phinny ceased to use her tongue.

Wych Hazel never knew by what instinct she worked her way through that first bit of time.  Eager for more tidings, sure that her eagerness must not appear, she held her breath for one minute—­then rose up cool and quiet, the young mistress of Chickaree.

‘Yes,’ she said, answering Phinny’s half spoken words, ’it is Mr. Rollo.  And of course he has had no luncheon.’

She summoned Dingee with a blast of her silver whistle (there were few bells at Chickaree), ordered up hot chocolate and fresh tea and relays of fruit and cream; and herself stepped forward to see them served.

‘There are croquettes, Mr. Rollo,’ she said,—­’and Dingee will bring you cold beef.  And with what may I fill your cup?’

Primrose, through her scattering talk with Annabella, watched, as she could, these two people who were so strange to her simplicity.  Here was Wych Hazel, a little while ago on the floor in a passion of tears; now, calm, self-possessed, and graceful.  Primrose had been very uncertain how she would meet Rollo the next time; with a kind of wonder she heard her friendly offer of chocolate and observed Rollo’s perfectly cool and matter-of-course acceptance of it from her hands.  It was something beyond Primrose.  She waited to see how it would be when Mrs. Powder went away.

But a great many thoughts went in among the sugar that Primrose never guessed.  Wych Hazel was anxiously waiting to have the good report about Reo confirmed, and would not shew her anxiety.  But what did Prim mean by people’s waiting all their lives?  What did they wait for?  Well, these two people needn’t wait any longer for a meeting—­that was one thing. That affair was well off her hands.  Why hadn’t Mr. Falkirk returned too?—­Staying with Reo, perhaps, until she came, and she could not go, and could not ask.  And now, of course, the Powders would just stay on, supplementing their lunch to bear Mr. Rollo company.