mebody else might suit
him better--say Primrose? But at that, Miss Wych started up and
stirred the fire energetically, and then came back to her
musings.

What did she care, anyhow? She passed that question, turned it
round, and took it up in another shape. How would she bear to
be all her life under orders? in 'closer' guardianship?--and
there the word 'sweeter' flashed in, confusingly. But that was
not business. Did she--that is, could she--like him well enough
to like to give up her own way? Answer, a prompt negative.
Never!--Not if she liked him ten times more than--but it is
awkward dealing with unknown quantities: Hazel sheered off.
Suppose she _didn't_ like it--could she do it? do it so that he
would never find out what it cost her? do it to give him
pleasure? do it because it was his right? Waiving her own
pleasure, pushing aside her own will? Could she do it?--Well,
there was not the least hope that she would wish to do it. She
should always like her own best: no doubt of that.

Then could she (perhaps) learn such trust in his judgment, as
would turn her own will round?--As hopeless as the other.
Sometimes, of course, he might be right,--by a great stretch of
leniency Miss Wych allowed so far,--sometimes, it was certain,
she would. Well: could she give his judgment as well as his
will the right of way? For unless she could, Wych hazel felt
quite sure of one thing: she should never be happy a minute in
such guardianship. She had not dared to give herself a
possible reason for liking it in the old times,--could she do
it, now that she dared? Was she willing to give up, sometimes
or always, to just that one person in all the world?--turning
her bonds into bracelets, and wearing them royally? And there
her thoughts went down to the real bracelet on her arm, and
its motto, so suddenly become his:

'In hope of eternal life.'--Would he care for her any more?

O how thoughts tired themselves, toiling round these points!
and slowly uprising from them came yet another, which filled
the air. What was she to say at the year's end?--or, if _this_
were the year's end, what would she say now?--supposing Mr.
Rollo still cared what she said. But that last question must
be studied by and by. Mr. Rollo would have been amused, may
be, and may be a little touched, if he had known the ogre-like
shapes in which the girl conjured him up, just to see if she
could endure him _so:_ putting herself to superhuman tests. But
her im