"But you will thank Mr. Hamilton for his kind offer?" she asked, taking the hand as well as the cup that he brought to the little table, for more tea.
"As to that," Teddie replied genially, "he and I are good enough friends, and fully understand each other; don't we?" he added, turning to Mr. Hamilton, who, his sense of irritation completely subsided, was looking immensely entertained.
"Yes, yes," he responded warmly, "we are good friends, my dear boy."
Teddie looked gratified, and, asking to be allowed to present his two brothers and his friend, Paul Charteris, who were congregated somewhat in the background, the conversation became more general.
Hazel, seated near to Mr. Hamilton, took occasion to study him as closely as politeness would permit. So this was the redoubted Mr. Hamilton, Teddie's dreaded "boss," whom Hazel had held to be the most imposing of men. She had once entertained the thought of addressing a letter to him, in Teddie's behalf, but had abandoned the idea as too fearful. So this was he, this kindly looking elderly man, who from time to time threw her glances of much benignity and interest, and who called Teddie his dear boy. What could Teddie have been thinking of, to have made of him such a bête noire? There was, to be sure, at times, a certain severity about the mouth, but the eyes were always kind, the girl thought. If she could but summon the spirit to engage him in talk concerning her own private affairs! Of a surety he would be a most likely person to help her; for was he not an eminent "City man," living in the very thick of that City life of which she, Hazel, knew so little, yet thought so much? Perhaps, even, he was born and bred there, and was as much at his ease, as much at home in its murky atmosphere, among its imperial buildings, as she was here, in her beloved woods. How wonderful to walk the City, the dear, grand City, as he did; to wend one's way through a very labyrinth of courts, alleys, and byways, never to lose oneself, to know one's whereabouts always, as she knew the woods, blindfolded!
Hazel's chin was in her hand, her elbow supported on her knee, and her eyes grew round and deeply reverential as she lost herself in the contemplation of this being from another sphere. The magnetic influence of her gaze presently drew Mr. Hamilton's eyes to meet hers, but so gently did he turn, so quietly did they fall upon her, that the girl was not startled from her reverie, but continued to gaze in reverence, whilst an eager questioning grew up in her speaking eyes.
"You were wishing to say something, my dear?" he asked kindly, and with a sudden impulsive tenderness, new to him, he laid a broad hand upon the girl's brown head.
Hazel hesitated, then glanced about her. Her brothers were engaged for the moment in some discussion together, her mother in interested listening. Paul Charteris, certainly, was observing herself, and, being nearest, would catch her words; but she did not mind Paul: he would not interfere. She even gave him a little smile—an invitation to attend, should he care to do so.
"I know that you do not keep lady clerks," she began, with gentle, confidential eagerness, "but have you ever thought of changing your mind?"
Mr. Hamilton looked his amazement.