Then, shielded under each napkin, was some pretty token of Christmas. A weighty book, for which Dr. Maryland had been longing; and for Dr. Arthur a fine field glass. Mrs. Coles rejoiced in the prettiest ring she had ever possessed; while by Prim lay a heap of little articles,—a fruit knife, a gold thimble, a superb cutting-out scissors a foot long. 'That must be the very tool employed by Bluebeard!' said Dr. Arthur. 'I always marvelled at the clever celerity of his work. Prim, when you are married you must give that to me.' 'Looks suspicious for _his_ wife!' said Dane. 'I like thoughts in such things,' said Dr. Arthur, looking towards the foot of the table and the bonbonnière that stood by Rollo's plate; a good-sized wheelbarrow loaded with cotton-bales of French candy. 'Which is it Dane?—work in sugar, or sugar in work?' 'The two terms are so transposable, I need not trouble myself much to find out which.' So the dinner went merrily on. Of course Mrs. Bywank's part of it was unsurpassed; and but one thing was missing to which guests there were accustomed—Wych Hazel's laugh. But her attention to the guests never failed, and if she only played with her dinner, and if she was all the time living a double life and carrying on two trains of thought, few people found it out. Once indeed, apropos to some demand for roast beef, she wandered quite off to Morton Hollow and the Charteris men; and then of a sudden the lips parted in a full smile, and the brown eyes went down the table to Rollo for sympathy. A moment of forgetfulness followed by one of great confusion, as she remembered that he could not possibly know what she was smiling at. Hazel was glad to drop her napkin or do anything else to put her face out of sight. As for Dane, his part that evening might be described as filling gaps. He did it admirably. Perhaps he was not to be greatly credited for that, inasmuch as happiness is a great lubricator of the social wheels. He did it, at any rate, easily and coolly too, according to his usual wont. He talked to Dr. Maryland, was affectionate to Prim, amused Mrs. Coles, watched over Wych Hazel and took care of her if ever an emergency in the conversation made it desirable. The evening in the drawing-room sped quite merrily away, and only the quick flutter of the lace round Wych Hazel's throat, told of something hidden and not at rest. Some European views for the stereoscope were brought out of their corner, and Rollo led the talk in the direction thus indicated, where he had plenty to say. Suddenly passing to Wych Hazel's side he sat down and said half softly, 'There is another view we were going to shew them—a new one— is it ready to be introduced? or will it come better later?' He got another quick look then,—searching, exploring,—a look to be remembered. 'Give me a few minutes—' And presently, when no one was looking, the little lady flitted away out of the room.