‘There!’ she said, ‘will that do?’

‘Do you mean that you give me all these?’

‘Every bit.’

’Mrs. Bywank, might I make interest with you for a finger-glass?’

Which being supplied, the gentleman proceeded to a leisurely ablution of his fingers, and then looked at the dish of fruit before him with grave consideration.

‘Which is the best?’ said he.

‘They all look about alike, to me,’ said Wych Hazel, raising her eyebrows.  ’I shall be happy to hear, when you have found out.’

Exercising a great deal of deliberation, Rollo finally chose out a bunch of Frontignac grapes and two Moorpark apricots, and set them before Wych Hazel.

‘Will you accept these from me?’ he said, coolly.  ’They are my own property, and are offered to you.  Taste and see if they are as good as they ought to be.’

She looked up, and down, laughing.

’That is the way you come round people!  Will you take the responsibility?  Suppose I am asked, some day, whether they—­ were—­what they ought to be?’

’You can puzzle him just as well after knowing the fact, as before,’ Rollo said, with perfect gravity.

‘Well,’ said Hazel, pulling a grape from the bunch.  ’Perhaps my misleading powers may be equal to that.  This one is quite good—­and not at all sour,’ she added, with a flash of her eyes—­which, however, went to Mrs. Bywank.  ’What do you want, Dingee?’

Dingee advanced and laid a card on the table.

’Say I am at breakfast.  I cannot be expected to keep awake all night and all day too.’

‘Permit me to inquire,’ said Rollo, as he also attacked the grapes, but not looking at them, ’whether you did your share of growling this morning?  I am sure no one had more cause.’

‘No,’ said the girl, laughing.  ’I feel that I have a great reserve in store for somebody.  Well, Dingee?’

A card with a written message this time.  Hazel looked at it, drew her brows together, and, seizing a pencil, wrote a vigorous ‘No,’ across the lines.

‘For somebody,’ Rollo repeated.  ’I am not sure that we got hold of the right delinquent.  After all, peaches are the best thing after waffles and coffee.  Try that.’  And he placed a fine one alongside of Wych Hazel’s plate.

‘The thing is,’ said Hazel, ’that unless you can growl with authority, nobody marks you.’

‘General Merrick and Major Seaton, Missee Hazel, ma’am,’ said her dark retainer, coming back.

‘I thought I told you I was at breakfast?’ said Hazel, in a tone of displeasure.

’Yes’m—­but the Major he bound to know ’bout sumfin Missee Hazel left onsartin last night.  ’Spect he’d like a keep-sake, too,’ said Dingee, laying down another card.  ‘Mas’ May put his away mighty safe.’

If ever his little mistress was near being furious, I think it was then.  Eyes and cheeks were in a flame.