Wych Hazel

by Susan Warner; Anna Bartlett Warner

CHAPTER XVII.

ENCHANTED GROUND.

Mr. Falkirk was sitting with the paper in the tea-room at Chickaree. A good lamplight gave him every temptation to lose himself in its manifold pages, but somehow the temptation failed. Mr. Falkirk had been walking the floor for part of the evening; going then to one of the long windows and throwing it open—there were no mosquitoes at Chickaree—to look out at the moonlight, or perhaps to listen for the sound of wheels; but the Summer stillness was only marked by the song of insects and the light stir of leaves, and Mr. Falkirk went back to his musings. His hand caressed his chin sometimes, in slow and moody deliberation. No doubt the change was a serious one, from the quiet, unquestioned care of a schoolgirl, to the guardianship of a bright, full-winged butterfly of humanity. That does not half express it. For to the airy uncertainty of butterfly motions, his ward certainly added the intense activities of a humming bird, and the jealous temper, without the useful proclivities, of a honey bee. I think Mr. Falkirk likened her to all these in his meditations; and his brows knit themselves into a persistent frown as he walked. For all that, when the wheels of Mme. Lasalle's carriage grated on the gravel sweep, Mr. Falkirk sat down to the table and the newspaper, and as Wych Hazel opened the door and walked in, Mr. Falkirk looked up sedately. Then his face unbent, a very little, but he waited for her to speak.

'Good evening, my dear Mr. Falkirk!' Mr. Falkirk was not morose, but he made little answer beyond a smile.

'I perceive you have been pining for my return, sir,' said Miss Hazel advancing airily; 'but why you do not revive when I come, that puzzles my small wits. Are you overjoyed to see me safe home, Mr. Falkirk?'

'I wait to be certified of the fact, Miss Hazel.'

She came to a low seat before him, silently crossing her arms on her lap.

'What are the developments of fortune, to-day, Miss Hazel?' said her guardian with a relaxing face.

'A number of gentlemen, sir, and one fish. Which I caught.
There were some ladies, too, but they came less in my way.'

'Um! So I understand you catch all that come in your way?'

'Only the fish, sir. But you should have heard the people thereupon! One cried, "Happy fish!"—and another, "Happy Miss Kennedy!"—And yet I suppose we had both of us known more ecstatic moments.'

'And what is your impression of fishing parties, judging from this specimen?'

'O, I was amused, of course. But the brook was delicious. You know, it was all new to me, Mr. Falkirk.'

'Like the fairy-tale you wanted?' said her guardian smiling.

She smiled, too, but her answer was only a sweet, 'Are you glad to see me here, sir?'

'I am glad if you are glad, Miss Hazel. I did not suspect that any genie or enchanter had got hold of you yet.'

'Only "if," ' she said to herself. 'I wonder how it feels to have anybody care for one very much!' But no word of that came out.

'Are you glad to get home, Miss Hazel?'

'Yes, sir. The drive was rather stupid.'

'Did you come alone?'

'I had Madame in person, and with her all the unquiet ghosts of the neighbourhood, I should judge,'—added Miss Hazel thoughtfully slipping her bracelets up and down.

'Scandal, eh?' said Mr. Falkirk. 'And yet the drive was stupid!'

'Incredible, sir, is it not? But you see, I had been ever so long face to face with the brook!—'

'I do not know that I am fond of scandal,' said Mr. Falkirk; 'and yet I should like to know what particular variety of that favourite dish Madame chose to serve you with. And in the mean time, to relieve the dryness of the subject, Miss Hazel, will you give me a cup of tea?'

She sprang up, and began to busy herself at once with her home duties, but did not immediately answer his question. Until she came round to his side, bringing the fragrant and steaming cup of tea, and then apparently thoughts were too much for her, and she broke forth:

'Why don't people marry each other if they want to, Mr. Falkirk?' she said, standing still to put the question. 'And if they don't want to, why do not other people let them alone?'

Mr. Falkirk shot one of his glances at the questioner from under his dark brows, and sipped his tea.

'There might be a variety of answers given to your first query, Miss Hazel. People that want to marry each other are proverbially subject to hindrances—from the days of fairy tales down to our own.'

'They always do it in fairy tales, however.'

'They very often do it in real life,' said Mr. Falkirk gravely.

'Well, sir?—then why cannot they be left to take care of themselves, either way? It is such fudge!' she said, walking back to her place and energetically dropping sugar in her own cup.

'Who is Mme. Lasalle trying to take care of?'

'Me, last, sir. Warning me that things laughed at become dangerous. In which case I shall lead a tolerably risky life.'

'Who is Mme. Lasalle warning you against?' demanded Mr.
Falkirk hastily.

'My dear sir, how excited you are over poor Mme. Lasalle! I presumed to laugh at some of her fancy sketches, and then of course she rapped me over the knuckles. Or meant it!' said Miss Hazel, slightly lifting her eyebrows.

'But I observe you do not answer me, my dear.'

'No, sir,—if you will allow me to use my own judgment, I think I had better not. Let me have your cup, Mr. Falkirk please, and I'll put more sugar in this time.'

Mr. Falkirk finished his tea and made no more observations. He was silent and thoughtful,—moody, his ward might have fancied him,—while the tea-things were cleared away, and afterwards pored over the newspaper and did not read it. At last, when silence had reigned some time, he lifted his head up and turned round to where Wych Hazel sat.

'I have been considering a difficulty, Miss Hazel; will you help me out?'

'Gladly, sir, if I can.' She had been sitting in musing idleness, going over the day perhaps, for now and then her lips curled and parted, with various expressions.

'We have come, you are aware, Miss Hazel, in the course of our progress, to the Enchanted Region;—where things are not what they seem; jewels lie hid in the soil for the finding, and treasures are at the top of the hill; but the conditions of success may be the stopping of the ears, you know; and lovely ladies by the way may turn out to be deadly enchantresses. How, in this time of dangers and possibilities, can my wisdom avail for your inexperience? that is my question. Can you tell me?'

'Truly sir,' she answered with laugh, 'to get yourself out of a difficulty, you get me in! My inexperience is totally in the dark as to what your wisdom means.'

'Precisely,' said Mr. Falkirk; 'so how shall we do? How shall
I take care of you?'

'You have always known how, sir,' she answered with a grateful flash of her brown eyes.

'When I had only a little Wych Hazel to take care of, and the care depended on myself,' Mr. Falkirk said, with just an indication of a sigh stifled somewhere. 'Now I can't get along without your coöperation, my dear.'

'Am I so much harder to manage than of old, sir? That speaks ill for me.'

'My dear, I believe I remarked that we are upon Enchanted ground. It does not speak ill for you, that you may not know a bewitched pumpkin from a good honest piece of carriage maker's work.'

'No, sir. Is it the pumpkin variety for which Mr. Rollo is to find mice?'

'I have taken care of your affairs at least,' said Mr. Falkirk gravely. 'There is nothing about them that is not sound. I wish other people did not know it so well!' he muttered.

'It is only poor little me,' said Wych Hazel. 'Never mind, sir,—in fairy tales one always comes out somehow. But I am sure I ought to be "sound" too, if care would do it.'

'Will you help me, Hazel?' said Mr. Falkirk, bending towards her and speaking her name as in the old childish days.

'Gladly, sir,—if you will shew me how. And if it is not too hard,' she said with a pretty look, well answering to her words.

'I wish you had a mother!' said Mr. Falkirk abruptly. And he turned back to the table, and for a little while that was all the answer he made; while Wych Hazel sat waiting. But then he began again.

'As I remarked before, Miss Hazel, we are come upon bewitched ground in our search after fortune. You spoke of two classes of people a while ago, if you remember—people that want to marry each other and people that don't.'

'Yes sir. Which are the most of?'

'Being upon bewitched ground, it might happen to you as to others—mind, not this year, perhaps, nor next; but it might happen—that you should find yourself in one of these two, as you intimate, large classes. Suppose it; could you, having no mother, put confidence in an old guardian?'

Very grave, very gentle Mr. Falkirk's manner and tone were; considerate of her, and very humble concerning himself.

'Why, Sir!'—she looked at him, the roses waking up in her cheeks as she caught his meaning more fully. Then her eyes fell again, and she said softly—'How do you mean, Mr. Falkirk? There is nobody in the world whom I trust as I do you.'

'I have never a doubt of that, my dear. But to make the trust avail you or me, practically, could you let me know the state of affairs?'

She moved restlessly in her chair, drawing a long breath or two.

'You say such strange things, sir. I do assure you, Mr. Falkirk, I am ensconced in the very middle of one of those classes. And that not the dangerous one,' she added with a laugh, though the flushes came very frankly. 'If that is what you are afraid of.'

'You are in about as dangerous a class as any I know,' said Mr. Falkirk, dryly; 'the class of people that everybody wants to marry. Miss Hazel, you are known to be the possessor of a very large propriety.'

'Am I, sir? And is that what makes me so attractive? I thought that there must be some explanation of so sweeping a compliment from your lips.'

A provoked little smile came upon Mr. Falkirk's lips, but they grew grave again.

'So, Miss Hazel, how are you to know the false magician from the true knight?'

'He must be a poor knight who would leave the trouble on my hands,' said the girl, with her young ideas strong upon her. 'If he does not prove himself, Mr. Falkirk, "I'll none of him!" '

'How shall a man prove to you that he does not want Chickaree and your money, my dear?'

'Instead of me. I think—I should know,' she answered slowly, so much absorbed in the question that she almost forgot its personal bearing. 'Mr. Falkirk, false and true cannot be just alike?'

'Remember that in both cases so much is true. The desire to win your favour, and therefore the effort to please, are undoubted.'

'Mr. Falkirk, you must be the assayer! Suppose you tell me now about all these people here, to begin with. I have not seen much that reminded me of magic yet,' she said with a curl of her lips.

'What people?' said Mr. Falkirk, hastily.

'What people? Oh, I forgot—you were not at Mme. Lasalle's to- day. But I thought you knew everybody here before we came.'

'I shall not be with you everywhere,' Mr. Falkirk went on; 'that would suit neither me nor you. The safe plan, Miss Hazel, would be, when you think anybody is seeking your good graces, to ask me whether he has gained mine. I will conclude nothing of your views in the matter from any such confidence. But I will ask you to trust me thus far,—and afterwards.'

'You mean, sir, whether—he has gained mine or not?'

Mr. Falkirk answered this with one of his rare smiles, shrewd and sweet, benignant, and yet with a play of something like mirth in the dark, overhung eyes. It was a look which recognized all the difficulty of the situation and the subject, for both parties.

'I am afraid the thing is unmanageable, my dear,' he said at last. 'You will rush up the hill without stopping your ears, after some fancied "golden water" at the top; and I shall come after and find you turned into some stone or other. And then you will object very much to being picked up and put in my pocket. I see it all before me.'

She laughed a little, but shyly; not quite at ease upon the subject even with him. Then rose up, gathering on her arm the light wraps she had thrown down when she came in.

'I must have been always a great deal of trouble!' she said. 'But I do not want to give you more. Mr. Falkirk, wont you kiss me and say good night to me, as you used to do in old times? That is better than any number of fastenings to your pocket, to keep me from jumping out.'

Once it had been his habit, as she said; now long disused. He did not at once answer; he, too, was gathering up a paper or two and a book from the table. But then he came where she stood, and taking her hand stooped and kissed her forehead. He did not then say good night; he kissed her and went. And the barring and bolting and locking up for the night were done with a more hurried step than usual.