‘What is your explanation then?’ said he, smiling at her.

Prim was not ready with it; and before she was ready to speak again, Wych Hazel was informed that her escort was at her service.

Dr. Maryland’s little old chaise was at the door.  Rollo put Miss Kennedy in it and took the reins.  It was late in the sweet Summer afternoon; the door and the road and the fields looked exceedingly unlike the same things seen in shadow and moonlight last night.  Rollo never referred to that, however; he was just as usual; took care that Wych Hazel was comfortably seated, and made careless little remarks, in his wonted manner.  Various people passed them; many were the greetings, answered for the most part very sedately by the young lady of Chickaree.  But just as they entered the outskirts of her own domain, Rollo felt his companion shrink towards him with a sudden start.  Then instantly she sat upright in her place.  Two or three horsemen were in sight, at different distances; one, the nearest, was a stranger to Rollo.  A remarkably handsome man, splendidly mounted, faultlessly dressed; riding his grey with the easy grace of a true cavalier.  He uncovered before he was near enough to do more, and then bent even to his saddle-bow before Miss Kennedy.  And to him, turning full upon him, did Miss Kennedy administer the most complete, cool, effectual cut that Mr. Rollo had ever seen bestowed.  The rider’s face turned crimson as he passed on.

Rollo made no sort of remark; drove gently, let the old horse come to a walk; and at last, throwing himself back into the corner of the chaise, so as to have a better look at his companion, he said: 

’Does daylight and rest make a difference, and are you inclined to trust me with the explanation of what happened last night?  I should be grateful.’

He could see now with what extreme effort she had done her work of execution—­lip and chin were in a tremor.

’It was no want of trust, Mr. Rollo—­I meant you should know.  But—­I could not tell you first,’ she said rather timidly.  ’I thought, perhaps, you would take the trouble to come in and hear me tell Mr. Falkirk.’

‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘I am grateful.’  And no more passed on the subject until the chaise reached the cottage.

CHAPTER XXII.

A REPORT.

Just glancing round at her companion to make sure that he followed, taking off her hat as she went, Hazel passed swiftly into the cottage and into Mr. Falkirk’s study, to the foot of his couch—­and there stood still.  Very unlike the figure of last evening,—­in the simplest pale Summer dress, with no adornment but her brown hair, and yet as Mr. Falkirk looked, he thought he has never seen her look so lovely.  She was surely changing fast; the old girlish graces were taking to themselves the richer and stronger graces of womanhood; and like those evening flowers that open and unfold and gather