nce
had no grace about it was indeed manifest enough; the grace of
her refusal was further to seek. He deposited the little lady
of Chickaree at her own door with no more words than a 'good-
night;' and went the rest of his way in the fog alone. And if
Wych Hazel had suffered some annoyance that evening, her young
guardian was not without his share of pain. It was rather
sharp for a time, after he parted from her. Had the work of
these weeks, and of his revealed guardianship, and of his
exercise of office, driven her from him entirely? He looked
into the question, as he drove home through the fog.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

DODGING.

It was no new thing for the young lady of Chickaree to come
home late, and dismiss her attendants, and put herself to bed;
neither was it uncommon for her to sleep over breakfast time
in such cases, and take her coffee afterwards in Mrs. Bywank's
room alone. But when the fog had cleared away, the morning
after Mme. Lasalle's ball, and the sun was riding high, and
still no signs of Miss Wych, then Mrs. Bywank went to her
room. And the good housekeeper was much taken aback to find
peasant dress and grey serge curled down together in a heap on
the floor, and Miss Wych among them, asleep with her head in a
chair. Perhaps that in itself was not so much; but the long
eyelashes lay wet and heavy upon her cheek,--and Mrs. Bywank
knew that token of old.

I am afraid some hard thoughts about Mr. Rollo disturbed her
mind, as she stood there looking. What use had he made of his
ticket to distress her darling?--she such a mere child, and he
with his mature twenty-five years? But Mrs. Bywank did not
dare to ask, even when the girl stirred and woke and rose up;
though the ready flush, and the unready eyes, and the grave
mouth, went to her very heart. She noted, too, that her young
lady went into no graphic descriptions of the ball, as was her
wont; but merely bade Phoebe take away the two fancy dresses,
and ensconced herself in a maze of soft white folds, and then
went and knelt down by the open window; leaning her elbows
there, and her chin on her hands. Mrs. Bywank waited.

'Miss Wych,' she began after a while,--'my dear, you have had
no breakfast.'

'I want none.'

'But you will have some lunch?'

'No.'

'My dear,--you must,' said Mrs. Bywank. 'You will be sick, Miss
Wych.'

'Don't _you_ say "must" to me, Byo!' said the girl impetuously.
But then she started up and flung her arms round M