Nobody interrupted her, nor spoke when she paused.  The little room was very still, except from the movements the girl made herself.

’This was the wrong one.  No old doctor Blake at all, but a younger brother of Gen. Merrick.  What could I do?’ she said, with a half appealing look that went for a second further than her guardian.  ’Already my promise was in peril; and there was Mr. Morton beseeching me into his coach—­and I could not get up a fuss.’  It was very pretty and characteristic, the unconscious way in which she brought in—­and left out—­the third one in the room.  Sometimes forgetting everybody but her guardian, and giving him details that were plainly meant for his ears alone; then, with a sudden blush and stop, remembering that there was another listener standing by.  On such occasions she would generally turn her face a little more away and out of sight, and then begin again, in a tone that meant to keep clear of all further special confidences in that direction.  The third member of the party stood perfectly still and made no remark whatever.

‘Well?’ said Mr. Falkirk, with rather a short breath, as the girl paused.

’There was nothing left for me but the walk—­unless a fuss, and a half dozen more standing round.  Then Mr. Morton said he should walk, too, at least as far as the cross-road, and let the carriage follow at a foot pace in case I should turn weary.  If he had been half as anxious about my weariness as he professed,’ said the girl, with a curl of her lips, ’he would have tried how fast his horses could go for once, with him behind them.  But I could not tell him that any plainer than I did.’

‘You tried to make him drive and leave you?’ said Mr. Falkirk.

‘I tried to make him let me alone, sir,’ said the girl flushing.  ’As to the way, I made no suggestions.  So we walked on, and Mr. Morton made himself exceedingly—­disagreeable.’

‘Too officious?  Or too presumptuous?  He’s an ass!’ said Mr. Falkirk, who was plainly getting restive.  ‘Which, Hazel?’

’Unbearable I called it, sir.  I was in no mood for nice definitions.  And I couldn’t have been tired then if we had walked through the moonlight straight on to the moon!  But—­I had been lectured so much about self-control’ (an invisible glance went here) ’that, somehow, he seemed to keep his patience the better, the more I lost mine.  I never remember your telling me, sir, that my wilful moods were particularly becoming, but I began to think it must be so; and actually thought of trying a little complaisance.’  Whereat, Miss Hazel brought herself to a sudden stop.

‘My dear!’ said Mr. Falkirk.  ‘What was the other man about?’

‘He was walking on the other side,’ said Hazel, her voice changing.  ’But he left me to Mr. Morton, in effect, and scarcely said three words all this time.  I trusted his thoughts were too busy with Miss Powder, to notice what went on near by.’