The adjective did double duty; but the tone was unmistakeably tender and anxious. Hazel had met her with both hands stretched out; now she drew her along gently to a chair. 'Sit down,' she said. 'I can be spared a few minutes.' But she herself stood still, keeping fast her hold. 'I am glad you have come. Are you well?—after all that fatigue?' 'Doesn't my lady know, there is no evil to them that trust in Him?' 'Yes.' 'It is a glad day for me, my dear; but I know the heart of a young maiden, and that it's not altogether a glad day for you. Can my lad's old nurse be any use? He told me to see if I could; that's why I'm bold to ask.' Hazel passed her little fingers softly over Gyda's hand; she did not speak at once. 'Perhaps—after dinner. Will you sit here after dinner till I come? Now I must go.' Hazel put her visiter in Mrs. Bywank's charge, and giving herself no time to think ran down stairs. The great drawing-room was all ablaze, with hickory sticks and wax candles, and the reflected sheen from old chairbacks, and brass andirons, and silver sconces. The turkey carpet on the floor alone absorbed and hid the light. Into this glow came Wych Hazel suddenly and softly. She was in one of her brilliant toilettes to- night; one that made Mrs. Coles open her eyes, and forget for a minute to open her mouth; and must have plunged Prim in a puzzle. One vivid spot on either cheek, and the silky hair in curls and waves and rings of its own making, and the brown eyes looking somewhere where you could not follow,—it was better than a picture to see her, it was almost like music to hear her tread. But old admirers of Miss Kennedy knew well, that a brilliant toilette did not bespeak the lady to be easy of access. So it was to- night; she was unapproachable. It was like looking at the fire through a glass screen. Yet she was very affectionate to Primrose, a little stately to Mrs. Coles; and gave Dr. Maryland's hand a grip of her small fingers which would have gone to his heart had he known what it meant. 'My dear!' said Mrs. Coles, 'you look as if you expected a party. It isn't true, is it? I thought we were asked to just a family gathering.' 'I expect only the gentlemen from the Hollow,' said Wych Hazel. 'Prim, are you quite warm?' 'It makes me warm only to look at you,' said prim admiringly. 'Oh Hazel, you do know how to dress _beautifully_.' Prim's eyes were wondering as well as admiring, and a trifle speculative also. 'It is of no use to dress for gentlemen, Miss Kennedy,' said Prim's sister, shaking her head, the fair bandeaux of which were in excellent order. 'They never know what we have on. It is mortifying—but it's a fact.' 'Facts about oneself often are,' said Hazel. 'But fiction comes in to set things straight.'