‘Never,’ she repeated.  ’Never, never!’—­and it seemed to Hazel that in all her lonely life she had never before known what it was to feel alone.

This then explained all his wonderful care of her,—­of course; it was part of his legal duty.  She should learn to hate him now, she knew.  Very likely he found it amusing as well!  It must be rather spicy work to a man loving power, to manage a wild girl and her estate together—­and with that Miss Kennedy’s resolution took a vehement turn.  And this was why Mr. Falkirk had been so easy—­and why—­and why—­ At which point thoughts and breath got in an utter tangle, and she had to begin all over again.

He could not wait to be guardian till she gave him permission.—­’Well for him!’ said Miss Hazel, with a gesture of her head.  And then if she married anybody else without his leave—­and she would have to ask his leave!—­Would she?—­not quite, the girl thought to herself.  Neither in great things nor in small would he be troubled much in that way.  Very generous of him to declare his purpose—­of—­of—­ And here suddenly thoughts flew off to Gyda’s soft-spoken title for her,—­words that bore yet their freight of shame and pleasure, for Hazel’s head went down.  She brought herself back sharply.

Very nice of him to tell other people what he meant to do!—­of course her purposes in that line were of small moment, if she had any.  Things would run in this style now, she supposed:  ’Thank you, Mr. May,—­I will ask Mr. Falkirk; and if he approves I will ask Mr. Rollo—­if I can find him, for he is generally away.  And if he says yes, I can go.’

No visitors saw her that day;—­and Mr. Falkirk had his breakfast alone, watched over by Mrs. Bywank.  ’Miss Wych had a headache,’—­which was extremely likely, as she had cried all night.  But after that the world of Chickaree went on as usual, to all outward appearance.

Some weeks had passed over since the ride to Morton Hollow, when one afternoon Rollo’s bay again walked up to the side entrance of the Chickaree house.  The few days of his intended absence had been lengthened out by the wearisome delays of business, so that that morning had seen the young gentleman but just home.  In the course of a private interview with Dr. Maryland he had received some disagreeable information.

‘By the way, Dane,’ said Dr. Maryland relunctantly, ’I have bad news for you.’

‘What is it, sir?’

’At least it is not good.  How bad it may be I can’t tell.  Hazel has heard all about—­what she shouldn’t have heard!—­the terms of the will and the whole story.’

A flash of very disagreeable surprise crossed the young man’s face.  He was silent.

‘It seems Prudentia told her,’ Dr. Maryland went on, uneasily.  ’I don’t understand how she could be so thoughtless; but so it is.  Hazel was very much excited by what she heard.’

‘Naturally!  You saw her?’