'What?' said Primrose.
'Bonds—and chains,' said the girl, clasping her wrist tight.
'To have my hands tied!'
'You are not called upon to find out, my dear,' said Dr. Maryland; 'that is not required of you. But remember, Hazel, no bonds are heavy but love wears.'
'Depends upon how they get on, sir,' she said, quickly.
'What?' said the doctor, with a somewhat comic twinkle coming into his eye. 'How is that?'
'I hate bonds, Dr. Maryland!—from the very bottom of my heart.'
'You have never worn the sort I spoke of, my dear,' he said, smiling. 'I never heard anybody complain of them.'
'What sort?' said Hazel. 'Bonds are bonds.'
'But love likes her bonds,' said the doctor.
The girl shook her head. 'She likes her way, sir! in my case. When Mr. Falkirk forbids me to—well, no matter what,—to do something,' she said, dropping her eyes, 'I do suppose I obey better than if I didn't love him. But I hate it all the same. It makes me feel—like my name,' she added with a laugh.