'Have you been a good child all these weeks?'

'No.'

'Wherein not?'

'Primrose would have settled composedly down, and been happy in obeying orders. I wasn't a bit.'

'People are not all good after the same fashion,' said Dane laughing, holding her fast and looking at her. 'My little Wych was not happy, nor submissivebut obeyed orders nevertheless.'

'No,' said Wych Hazel slowly, 'I am not sure that I did. I had said I would keep away if I couldand I remembered how you might look at me if I went. So it was better to stay and die quietly at home.'

'Is that the footing on which we are to live in the future?' said Dane laughing and kissing her. He evidently was rather in a gay mood.

For all answer, Hazel drew him across the hall to the dining room, and sounding her whistle began to make preparations for tea; with a speed and energy before which Dingee flew round like a cat. Then, dismissing him, Hazel crossed over with soft steps to the side of the lounge and stood there a moment, looking down, searching out the traces of illness and fatigue. Dane was paler and thinner certainly than he had been two months before. But his colour was the colour of health, and his gray eye had certainly suffered from no faintness. It was very bright now as it met hers, and he sprang up.

'Nothing ails me,' he said. 'I am only tired with twelve miles in Arthur's buggy. You will have no doubt how I am, when you see how much work I mean to do before I go away.'

'You will not do any work to-night,' said Wych Hazel decidedly. And then she made herself very busy about Mr. Rollo's tea, with quiet dictatorship making him take and not take, as she saw fit. But I suppose he was easy to rule to-night, and had besides matter for study in the grave mouth and the eyes that would hardly meet his. Perhaps he began to observe that there was more work to do than he had been aware. Perhaps he saw, that in these two months of separation the old timidity, the old reserve, had grown up and flourished to an alarming extent. Just at first, when he came, defences had not been up, or his sudden appearance had flung them down; but it was rather the Wych Hazel of last year than of last October who sat before him now. Betraying herself now and then, it is true, by a look or a tone, but still on the whole keeping close guard. Clearly this was not to be an evening of confidences. Rollo made his observations for a little time; and then enquired gravely,