"Good-bye," he rejoined, "and many, many happy returns of yesterday," he added, dropping the hand.
Something in his tone puzzled Hazel, and she looked at him wonderingly.
"How odd Paul, that is, Mr. Charteris, is to-day," she mused as she sped across the lawn.
CHAPTER XIII
"My dear child," exclaimed Helen Le Mesurier, "what an afternoon to choose for walking!"
Mrs. Le Mesurier was seated in the recess of the sparsely furnished hall, where tea was usually served. She had already partaken of that refreshment, but set about making more at sight of her daughter. Hazel gratefully accepted a cup and seated herself for a chat.
"I have not been for a walk," she said; "at least, I have walked, but not for walking's sake. I have been calling upon Mr. Charteris."
Helen looked surprised, as naturally she might.
"Hazel!" she expostulated. "What purpose could you have had? He comes here so often. Could you not have asked my advice as to going? It looks a little odd—a young girl calling by herself," she added gently. "Paul will think it odd."
She knew her child, and that slight reproof was enough—the least hint that intimated forwardness, in a way, too much; yet both must be given: such was a mother's duty.