Mr. Falkirk stood still looking at all this, and waiting with an unmoved face.

’Will you excuse my habit, sir? as you are in haste.  And am I to give you the “history” here, all standing?’

‘Go! but come,’ said Mr. Falkirk.  ’We have met only one division of the enemy yet, my dear.’

She glanced at him, and went off, and was back; all fresh and dainty and fragrant with the sweet briar at her belt.  Then silently made herself busy with the luncheon; creamed Mr. Falkirk’s chocolate; then suddenly exclaimed: 

‘Could you make nothing of my version, sir?’

‘Not much.  Where were you going?’

‘I was coming home.’

‘From Dr. Maryland’s?’

’Not at all, sir.  I should have said, I was on my way home,—­ and the storm began, and I took a cross road to expedite matters—­and then I grew desperate, and ran into an unknown, open door, and so found myself at Dr. Maryland’s.’

’Very intelligible.  My question looked to the beginning of your expedition.’

’Well, sir—­I would rather—­but it does not signify.  There came a small Bohemian here in the morning to get help for her sick mother; and I went.  That is all.’

‘Who is the mother, Miss Hazel?  Where does she live?’

’I don’t know her name.  And her habitation only when I see it.  All places are alike to me here yet, you know.’

‘My dear,’ said Mr. Falkirk gravely, ’you must see that, being so ignorant of people and things in this region, you had better not make sudden expeditions without taking me into your confidence.  Dingee said you rode the little black mare?’

‘True, sir.’

‘You did not like her well enough to ride her home?’

‘Quite well enough, sir.’

‘You did not do it?’

‘No,’ said Wych Hazel—­’that Norwegian pirate took her for his own use, and I walked.’

‘Wouldn’t let you ride her, eh?’ and a curious gleam came into Mr. Falkirk’s eyes.

’ “Wanted to try her first”—­and was “bound to be afraid, though I was not”—­and “couldn’t answer it to you”—­and so forth and so forth.  A man can generally find words enough.’

’Depend upon it, my dear, he generally borrows them of a woman.’  Mr. Falkirk’s face relaxed slightly, and he took a turn across the room; then stood still.  ’Why didn’t you ride the cob home?—­he is there still, isn’t he?’

’I did not choose, sir.  I should, if I had been asked properly.’

‘Were you not asked?’

’No, except by having my saddle put on that horse and then not taking it off.’

‘You made the demand?’

‘Of course.  That is, I told the groom to do it.’

Mr. Falkirk smiled and then laughed, or came as near to laughing as he often did.

’So you wouldn’t ask him into the house?  But did you see anybody else in your yesterday’s expedition, my dear?’

She glanced up at him, evidently growing restive under this cross-questioning.