It was all Hazel could do to bear her mother’s name just then.  Her hands took a sudden grip of each other, but no answer came.  Not for some time:  then words low and softly spoken—­

‘I think I asked for no plea, Mr. Rollo.’

‘Then if you are content with it,’ said he, in a lighter tone, ‘give me your hand once more, only for a moment this time.’

She hesitated—­then held it out.  He bent down and gave it a swift, earnest kiss; after which he turned his attention to his driving duties, for some time neglected, till Mr. Falkirk’s cottage was gained.  As he took Wych Hazel out of the carriage, he said,

’It’s so late, if you don’t forbid me, I am going up to my old friend, Mrs. Bywank, to ask her to give me lodging to-night.’

Hazel bowed her head in token that he might do as he pleased, giving no other reply.  But it is safe to say that, by this time, ideas and thoughts and feelings and pain, and—­’other things,’ as she would have phrased it, were so inextricably mixed up in the girl’s head, that she hardly knew which was which and which was not.  She walked steadily in,—­then gave about two springs to her brown corner room, and locked the door.

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE GERMAN AT OAK HILL.

Mr. Falkirk was not disturbed that night with being told anything.  But when the sun had risen fair and clear over the green world of Chickaree, and Gotham moved silently about the breakfast-table, Mr. Falkirk might notice from his sofa that but one cup and saucer stood on the tray, and but one plate near to bear it company.  If Mr. Falkirk’s nerves were not in order, they might have been tried; for Gotham certainly seemed to have borrowed the cat’s shoes for the occasion.

‘Why don’t you set the table as usual?’ came pretty peremptorily from the sofa.

’Miss ’Azel ‘ave sent word she was h’asleep, sir,’ said Gotham, with extra dignity.

’Then why don’t you wait till she is awake, slowhead? as usual.  It is not eight o’clock yet.’

’H’also that she ’as no h’intentions of h’ever waking h’up, sir.’

So Mr. Falkirk took his breakfast with a dissatisfied mind.  For it is safe to say, he was so accustomed by this time to his gay little ward’s company and ministrations, that coffee was not coffee without her.  Gotham did his duty in a more than usually taciturn fashion, and Mr. Falkirk’s breakfast was at an end before the factotum unburdened his mind.

‘Beg pardon, sir,’ he said, drawing himself up behind his master; ’but ’ow are your h’orders concerning Miss ’Azel to be h’understood, sir?’

‘Orders?’ said Mr. Falkirk.

’You distinctly said and h’indicated, sir, that I was to drive Mis ‘Azel to and from, sir,—­if my mind serves me,’ said Gotham.

‘And if my mind serves me, you have driven her forty times.’

‘Quite correct, sir,—­and more,’ said Gotham.  ’The point h’is, Mr. Falkirk, what’s to be done when young gents come taking the h’orders h’out of my very ‘ands, sir?’