For a while now the little green at Chickaree was a pretty sight.  Dotted with a moving crowd of figures, in gay-coloured dresses, moving in graceful lines or standing in pretty attitudes; the play, the shifting of places, the cries and the laughter, all made a flashing, changing picture, full of life and full of picturesque prettiness.  The interests of the game were at first absorbing.  When a long match had been played, however, and there was a pause for refreshments, there was also a chance for rolling balls in the more airy manner Wych Hazel had indicated.

‘What was the matter the other night?’ Stuart Nightingale demanded softly, as he brought the little lady of the house an ice.

‘I could not stay.’

’Summoned home by no disaster?’—­

‘It was a sort of disaster to me to be obliged to go,’ said Wych Hazel, ’but I found neither earthquake nor volcano at home.’

‘Who came for you, Hazel?’ said Phinny Powder, pushing into the group which was forming.  ’I said it was downright wicked to let you go off so.  How did we know but that something dreadful had got hold of you?  I thought they ought all of them to go in a body and knock the doors down and find out.  But after your message they wouldn’t.  Who did come for you, Hazel?’

‘Who did?’ said Hazel.  ’Do you think it could have been the same parties who once sent away my carriage when I wanted it?’

‘No,’ said Phinny; ’I know it wasn’t.  But who did come for you, Hazel?  Nobody knew where you were.  And what made you go, if there was no earthquake at home, as you said?’

‘Were you made to go, really?’ asked Mme. Lasalle, slyly.  ’Has Josephine hit the mark with a stray arrow?’

‘O, of course I was made to go,—­or I shouldn’t have gone,’ said Wych Hazel lightly.  ’My own carriage came for me, Josephine, and I came home in it.  Do you feel any better?’

‘No, I don’t!’ said that young lady boldly, while others who were silent used their eyes. ’You didn’t order it, and I just want to know who did.  O, Hazel, I want to ask you—­’ But she lowered her voice and glanced round her suspiciously.

’Is it safe?  Where is that old Mr.——? do you see him anywhere?  He has eyes, and I suppose he has ears.  Hush!  I guess it’s safe.  Hazel, my dear, have you got two guardians, you poor creature?’

‘Have you only just found that out?’ said Hazel, drawing a little back from the whisper and answering aloud.  ’Prim, what will you have?  Mr. May, please bring another ice for Miss Maryland.’

‘Well, I’ve guessed it all summer,’ said Kitty Fisher, putting her word in now.  ’I always knew that when Miss Kennedy turned round, the Duke turned too, to see what she was looking at.’

If truth be no slander, it is sometimes full as hard to bear.  Wych Hazel eat her own ice for the next two minutes and wondered what it was.