But driving seemed to have become a sudden passion with Miss Wych.  She kept herself out, somewhere, somehow, day after day; denied of course to all visitors, and of small avail to Mr. Falkirk, except to pour out his coffee.  Miss Kennedy was in danger of creating a new excitement; being always out and yet never visible; for one entertainment after another went by, and brought only her excuses.

Either the driving fever cooled, however, or Wych Hazel found out at last that even thoughts may be troublesome company; for she began suddenly to surround herself with invited guests; and one or two to breakfast, and three to dinner, and six to tea, became the new order of things for Mr. Falkirk’s delectation.  Some favoured young ladies even stayed over night sometimes, and then they all went driving together.  Mr. Falkirk frowned, and Mrs. Bywank smiled; and cards accumulated to a fearful extent in the hall basket at Chickaree.

Rollo among others had been discomfited, by finding the young lady invisible, or, what was the same thing for his purpose, visible to too many at once.  This state of things lasted some time, but in the nature of things could not last for ever.  There came a morning, when Mr. Falkirk was the only visitor at the Chickaree breakfast table, and just as Mr. Falkirk’s coffee was poured out, Dingee announced his co-guardian.

Well—­she knew it had to come; but she could have found in her heart to execute summary justice on Dingee for the announcement, nevertheless.  Nobody saw her eyes,—­and nobody could help seeing her cheeks; but all else that transpired was a very reserved: 

’Good morning, Mr. Rollo.  You are just in time to enliven Mr. Falkirk’s breakfast, over which he ran some risk of going to sleep.’

Perhaps Mr. Rollo had a flashing question cross his mind, whether he had not missed something through lack of a hunter’s patience the other night; but he was too much of a hunter to do anything but make the best of circumstances.  He shook hands in precisely his usual manner; remarking that Mr. Falkirk had not had a ride of four miles; took his breakfast like a man who had; and only towards the close of breakfast suddenly turned to his hostess and asked, ’How does Jeannie Deans behave?’

Apparently Hazel’s thoughts had not been held fast by the politics under discussion, for she had gone into a deep grave meditation.

‘Jeannie Deans?’ she said, with her face flushing all up again.  ‘Why—­very well.  The last time I rode her.’

‘When was that?’

’Monday, I think, was the day of the week; but I suppose she would have behaved just as well if it had been Tuesday.’

‘Then probably she would have no objection to Wednesday?’

‘Other things being comfortable,’ said Wych Hazel, still keeping her eyes to herself.

’Do you mean, that you and she are in such sympathy, that if she does not behave well you know the reason?’