less he was very hard to suit he might
have enjoyed the picture now opened before him. The pretty
room, with its garden outlook; the breakfast table, bright and
quaint together, with its old-time furnishings; and flowers
everywhere, arranged and un-arranged. As he came in, Wych
Hazel had just (quite surreptitiously) hung a garland of
pansies on the high carved peak of Mr. Falkirk's chair, and
then dropped into her own place; with a De Rohan rose in the
belt of her gray dress. Not in the least like Roll's gray, but
white with the edge taken off, like a pale cloud.

'So!' she said, looking up at him as he stood beside her,--
'have you come to confess?'

'Not this time. I have come to ask if I may catch some of your
trout--if I can.'

'_Not_ this time! If you wait for another the score will be
heavier.'

'May I have your trout?'

'Really, if they give their consent I will. Good morning, Mr.
Rollo!--will you sit down and let me give you some coffee?'

'As I came for that too, I will, thank you. Will you lend me
Vixen to-day?'

'Why yes--as I am going fishing myself, and so cannot use her,'
said Miss Hazel, giving critical attention to cream and sugar.
'But it is very good of me--after the way you have behaved.'

'It is very good of you. Is that thing all you have got to
ride, except the respectable cob?'

'Half broken, isn't she?' asked Mr. Falkirk.

'Half--hardly. She shies wickedly.'

'I am glad Hazel hears you. I hope she will not mount her
again after that.'

Rollo's eyes came over to Wych Hazel's with an expression she
could not quite read. It was not petitioning; it might be a
little inquisitive. But she chose rather to answer Mr.
Falkirk.

'I needed no help to find out that she shied, sir. Then I have
a little sympathy with that particular species of what Mr.
Rollo is pleased to call "wickedness." '

'It is very unfair, of course,' said Rollo, 'to speak of an
action from its results--but we all do it. Now a horse's shying
may break your neck. It is true a lady's shying may break your
heart; but that don't count.'

'We are just talking about horses, Rollo. I want your help.'

'I will give it with promptness--if Miss Kennedy command me.'

'Mr. Rollo's innocent way of talking about commands would
deceive anybody but me,' said Wych Hazel. 'But I am learning
to know him by slow and painful degrees.'

The only answer to this was a mischievous smile, which did not
embolden further charges. But wh