‘No, thank you,’ she said, with just the lightest shade of hesitation, ‘I think not.’

‘Reconsider that, and give me my orders.’

‘No—­truly!’ Hazel answered, looking up at him.  How busy the thoughts were.

‘I am going to Reo’s first.  Have you any commands there?’ But she shook her head.

‘No, Mr. Rollo, not any.’

He went off; and there was an interval somewhat quiet and untalkative between the two girls.  Later, Rollo came back, reported both patients doing well, and carried Prim home with him.

‘Did you think I was all ungrateful?’ Hazel said, wrapping her arms round Prim.  ‘Well, I was not.’

CHAPTER XX.

BOUQUETS.

Wych Hazel stood alone on her broad steps, watching the others out of sight, and feeling alone, too.  It must be nice to belong to somebody,—­to have brothers and friends!  Just for the moment, she forgot her now unwatched independence.  But then she came back to business, and flew off up stairs.  The brown dress could not stay on another minute,—­was not the whole morning tucked away in its folds?  That was the first thing.  And the second thing was, that Miss Kennedy, in a cloud of fresh muslin and laces, came out again upon the steps, and, calling Dingee to follow her, began to speed away through the old trees at a sort of flying pace.  It was late afternoon now; with lovely slant sunbeams and shadows falling across the slope, and a tossing breeze, and the birds at their evening concert.  Fresh air, and action soon brought the girl up to concert pitch herself; and she went on like a very sprite, along a side wood path, avoiding the main approach, and so gained the lodge by a side door; and in a minute more stood by the bedside of her faithful old retainer.  Hazel never knew at what cost to himself Reo managed to put out one hand far enough to receive her dainty fingers.

‘My little lady!’ he said fondly, ‘I knew she would come.’

‘O Reo—­O Reo!—­I am so sorry!’ she said, her eyes growing wet.

‘No need Miss Wych, dear,’ said Reo, smiling at her, though his own eyes moistened to see hers.

‘And it was just cutting those trees that I did not want cut!’

‘Aye,—­but they do want cutting though, Miss Wych,’ said Reo.  ‘Mr. Falkirk is right.  And Mr. Rollo.’

How that name came up at every turn.

‘Those trees are so big!’ said Hazel with a shiver.  ’I do not see how you ever got out again, Reo.’

‘Never should, my little lady,’ said Reo, ’only that there was somewhat between me and the tree.’

‘Between you and the tree?’ said Hazel.  ’Do you mean another tree, that kept it off?’

‘No, little lady,’ said Reo, ’I mean the Lord’s hand.  You see He’s quicker than we are, and before I could jump or turn, His hand was there over me.  And caught the tree, and let it touch me but just so much.’