’Charming!—­vraie Francaise’—­said Madame, softly.  ’That is a coquettish colour, my dear—­are you of that character!’

‘I am not sure that I know my own character yet,’ Hazel said, laughing a little.

’Ah! that’s dangerous.  You don’t know your own character?—­then do you read other people’s?  Rollo—­do you know him well?’

Mme. Lasalle was somewhat officiously but with great attention stroking into order one or two of Wych Hazel’s curls which the riding had tossed.

‘O, I dare say I shall make new discoveries, Mme. Lasalle.’

’He’s the best creature in the world, everybody likes him; but—­Oh dear! well I suppose all young men are so; they all like power.  Did you notice that Miss Powder down stairs, that I introduced to you?’

‘Hardly.’

’You had no time.  She’s a sweet creature.  Oh, no, you hadn’t time; but I want you to see her do-day.  I have a little plan in my head.’  And Mme. Lasalle left the curls and whispered with a serious face. ’She’s the young lady Rollo paid so much devotion to before he went abroad.  Everybody knew that; and I know he liked her; but then, you see, he went off, and nothing came of it; but it’s a pity, for Mrs. Powder would have been much pleased, I know, with her large family of daughters—­to be sure, she has married two of them now;—­but what is worse,’ (in a lower whisper) ’Annabella would have been pleased too; and she hasn’t been pleased since.  Now isn’t it a shame?’

Wych Hazel considered the matter.  With a curious feeling of disbelief in her mind, which (without in the least knowing where it came from) found its way to her face.

‘I wonder she would tell of it!’

’My dear, she didn’t; only one sees, one can’t help it.  One sees a great many disagreeable things, but it’s no use to think about it.  It was nothing very bad in Rollo, you know; he has that way with him, of seeming to like people; but it don’t mean anything, except that he does like them.  O, I know that he liked her—­and I am going to make you accomplice in a little plot of mine.  I won’t tell you now—­by and by, when you have seen Annabella a little more.  I would have asked Dane to join our party to-day, but I didn’t dare—­I was afraid he would guess what I was at.  Now, my dear, I won’t keep you up here any longer.  Pardon me, you are charming!  If Dane sees much of you, I am afraid my fine scheming will do Annabella no good!’ And shaking her head gaily, the lady ran down stairs followed by Wych Hazel.

There was a great muster then of fishing-rods and baskets; and everybody being provided, the company was marshalled forth, each lady being under the care of a gentleman, who carried her basket and rod.  Wych Hazel found herself without knowing how or why, leading the march with Mr. Lasalle.  He proved rather a sober companion.  A sensible man, but thoroughly devoted to business, his French extraction