'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.'