'I am no sportsman, madam,' said Mr. Falkirk with a smile; 'and my wisdom will probably be busy to-morrow in Miss Kennedy's plantations.'
With that, the train of ladies swept away, with renewed soft words of pleasure and hope and congratulation. They rustled softly through the hall, gently spoke ecstasies at the hall door, mounted upon their horses and got into their carriages, and departed. Mr. Falkirk came back to his ward in the hall.
'Now that to-morrow is provided for,' he said, 'I should be glad to hear, Miss Hazel, the history of yesterday. It is quite impossible to know a story from Dingee's telling of it. And do you think you could give me some luncheon?'
'Certainly, sir.' She was just disposing of hat and whip upon a particular pair of chamois horns on the wall. They hung a little high for her, and she was springing to reach them like any airiest creature that ever made a spring. 'Perhaps you will be so kind as to be seated, Mr. Falkirk?—in the dining room—for a moment. Dingee!'—her voice rang softly out clear as an oriole. 'Luncheon at once—do you hear, Dingee? Don't keep Mr. Falkirk waiting.'
Mr. Falkirk stood still looking at all this, and waiting with an unmoved face.
'Will you excuse my habit, sir? as you are in haste. And am I to give you the "history" here, all standing?'
'Go! but come,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'We have met only one division of the enemy yet, my dear.'
She glanced at him, and went off, and was back; all fresh and dainty and fragrant with the sweet briar at her belt. Then silently made herself busy with the luncheon; creamed Mr. Falkirk's chocolate; then suddenly exclaimed:
'Could you make nothing of my version, sir?'
'Not much. Where were you going?'