She glanced up at him and down, with quick changes in her face, but somehow words would not come. His words touched too many things,—and things would not bear touching, to-night. And she could not say a common "thank you"; she could not talk of the trouble he had taken; and pleasure was rather hull down at present, with some leagues of uncertain weather between. No use!— 'How could you find time?' she said timidly. But again the voice supplemented the words; and Rollo probably did not feel himself unthanked, for he went on with no want of content in his voice. 'I have left all happy in the Hollow. Every house has a Christmas dinner; and your sugarplums are making life sweet to the souls of young and old. Charteris men and all; every house has comfort in it to-night. I wish you could have seen a few of the faces that came to thank me. You know, I sent off the parcels to the several houses; so for a while I worked on free enough; but when the thing began to get wind, men, women and children came collecting about me, looking on with great eyes of wonder, and some eyes of tears, and muttered words—I can tell you, I wished them all away!' There was a suspicious sympathetic softness in Rollo's own eyes, which complemented his words. 'Then the Charteris men at last set up petitioning. Wouldn't I have mercy on them?'—And Dane broke off short, and turned to the table where lay a jewel case. 'Here is a sugarplum for you, Hazel,' he said presently, with his voice clear again. 'You do not want sugarplums—but I want you to have this.—' What he took out was an old-fashioned, rather massive, gold chatelaine; heavy and rich and quaint, with various trinkets fastened and hanging to it. 'This makes you my castle-keeper,' said Dane, proceeding to attach it properly to Wych Hazel's belt. 'My mother used to wear it. This,'—taking up a little gold key,—'you will observe, is the key of your money-box. These seals you will study at your leisure. Here is a wee gold compass, Hazel; this is symbolical. It means, "Know where you are, and take care which way you go." Your vinaigrette you will never get again. I shall have to find you another.' The jewel hung richly at Wych Hazel's side, giving a curious touch of stateliness to the little lady. Indeed little she was not, in matter of stature; it was the extreme daintiness of every detail that gave occasion to the epithet. Dane's eyes took the effect. Hazel stood looking down, possibly taking the effect too. Then she turned short about. 'I have nothing to give you,' she said,—'except—You will think all my gifts are in one line.' She was gone out of the room in a moment, but in another moment or two was back again, and holding in her hand a little gold locket. 'I found it one day among the old things, and I thought, perhaps, you might like—'