'But——I have heard business enough talked, if I could only remember it!—does not such a state of things by and by touch _all_ goods and mills and mill-owners?' 'Sometimes. But nothing threatens me at present. Perhaps Charteris is less strong than he has been supposed. Perhaps he has been speculating.' Hazel finished her flowers with another touch or two, and gathering up the scattered rose leaves—crimson and white and buff—showered them gently down upon the hand that rested near her on the table. Then she glanced up with a laugh. 'You know,' she said, 'the Charteris mills are _my_ department.' 'Indeed! How am I to understand that statement?' 'O—you thought Christmas was not susceptible of extensions. Gentlemen's ideas, being so strong, sometimes move slowly.' 'Ladies' thoughts, being so subtle, are sometimes difficult to pursue,' said Dane; but his brow was grave. 'I am talking nonsense,' said the girl, 'but I mean sense. There is money enough,—and those people cannot starve, either with hunger or cold. And you have all your own men on your own hands,—and—I begin to understand what Dr. Arthur meant by "possible corners." Don't you see that the other part of the Hollow falls naturally to me? What is the matter? Are you afraid I will support them on pound-cake and sugarplums?' Dane's eyes leapt, and darkened, and lightened; but after all, his answer was sober. 'That will do; but you cannot permanently support Mr. Charteris's mill hands on charity. The only sure method of relief would be to buy up the mills.' 'Then we can run them against each other!' said Wych Hazel. 'What a splendid thought! I shall be a better neighbour that Mr. Charteris. I will only undersell you just a little.' Dane smiled, but this time he said nothing. Only watched her continually. 'Then as Mr. Falkirk's consent might be difficult to get,—he is a little insane upon mills just now,—perhaps the purchase had better be made with the remains of my last winter's legacy. Over which, you know, nobody has any control but my own wise self.' 'How much do you suppose the purchase of those mills might require?' 'I have no idea. The legacy was large—and there is a good deal left.' 'A few hundred thousands?' No, not so much as that. Well,—then I must have another ugly talk with Mr. Falkirk. He would not listen to _you_, one minute.' 'I should not listen to you, either, Wych; and I should have to be taken into consultation, you know.' 'Is not your consent enough, without consultation?' 'I could not properly give it.' 'Dear me,' said the girl, 'what a word 'properly' is! I think I never wanted to do anything, or go anywhere, that it did not rise up before me like a five-barred gate. What can I 'properly' do, sir, if you please, in the premises?' Looking with his mighty gray eyes into her face,—soft they were too, and persuading, as well as mighty,—he said in a sort of whisper,