'There is no use in going into this now. I wish merely to say, Miss Hazel, that the habit of taking care for your interests is too old with me, and has become too strong, to be immediately laid aside. I shall do my best to procure a settlement of your propriety—as much of it as possible—upon yourself; and I mention this now simply to beg of you that you will not interpose any sentimental or quixotic objection on your own part. I shall endeavour to get Dr. Maryland to back me; he must see the propriety of the step. I only ask you to keep still.' Mr. Falkirk rose. In a moment Wych Hazel was at his side, linking her little hands on his arm in the old fashion. 'What have I done,' she said, 'that you speak so to me? Have I been so wayward and wilful that I have really chafed all your love away, and there is nothing left but dry care?' He touched her hand as he rarely had ever done, with a caressing, glancing touch, slight and short; but the man was silent. Wych Hazel drew him along, softly walking him up and down through the room, but she too said nothing, feeling perplexed and hurt, and not well knowing why. It was nothing new for Mr. Falkirk's words to be dry, but to-night they were so hard!—and when had he ever called her Miss Kennedy, in the worst of times? For once her instinct was at fault. 'I must go,' said Mr. Falkirk, stopping short after a turn or two. 'It is such an old story for me to make mistakes—' Hazel began hesitatingly. 'Have you made this one unwittingly?' he asked with sudden eagerness. Hazel dropped his arm and stood off with the air which Mr. Falkirk knew very well. 'This one does not happen to exist,' she said. 'But I mean—I should think you were so used to the reality, sir, that the idea would not give you much trouble. And there is one thing more I ought to say.' 'I am not troubled by an idea, Miss Hazel. What is the other thing?' Not an easy one to speak, by the shewing, as she stood there gathering her forces. But the words came clear and low. 'It will be a good day for me, Mr. Falkirk,—I shall have more hope of myself,—when I am as willing to be poor for the sake of other people, as—Mr. Rollo—is. Would you feel more sure of my being taken care of, if you knew that he spent all he has upon himself?' 'Yes. He is spending it upon a vagary—a chimera; and that is as much as to say he is throwing it into a quicksand. He will go down with it.' 'I wonder what will be the result of that?' said Wych Hazel, in the cool way she could sometimes assume when she felt particularly hot. 'I don't like to look at the result,' said Mr. Falkirk. 'I will go, if you please, Miss Hazel.—But if you will be so good as not to oppose me, the result shall not be your destitution.'