'Nothing to say to him?' he repeated. 'Nothing whatever.' 'Does it fall to me to instruct you in the proprieties? It is due to him to inform him that you are his ward up no longer; that you have done what he would very much have disapproved, and married me at a week's notice; which, you may tell him, was not at all your fault, and done principally for the sake of the men in the Charteris mills. Don't you see, Hazel, that you ought to tell him all this?' 'No,' said Hazel, with one of her old witch looks flashing out for a moment. 'If your right of way does not cover all the disagreeable business, I cannot see what use in the world I can make of it.' 'My right of way?—' repeated Dane looking at her. 'Yes. The right to do what you please should be extended to take in all that I do not please.' 'Across all which of mine, _your_ right of way, I suppose, takes a zigzag track!' 'Underground.' 'It will be dangerous there!' said Dane, his eyes flashing. 'For pity's sake, Hazel, keep it aboveground.' 'Collisions are bad things,' said Hazel,—'and switching off on a side track tries one's patience. But about Mr. Falkirk—there never was the least atom of father and daughter between us; he always kept me at arm's length. It was one of the trials of my life. And he has been just throwing me off more and more,—a year ago twenty sisters would not have made him leave me alone. And he said nothing but unpleasant things before he went,—and I should have to lay all the blame on you. And in short,' said Hazel summing up, 'he could not be angry with my letter, and he could with yours,— which would comfort him up.' Perhaps it was the thought of Hazel's great loneliness that touched him, the very remembrance of which he wished to kiss away; perhaps something else had its share in the caresses which were as tender as they were loving; but then he said softly, 'It would not be the proper thing, Hazel.' 'Well.—' A rather long breath gave up the point. 'Don't you see it, Wych?' 'Not quite. But you do not know how he talked before he went away.—Nor what sort of a letter I shall be sure to write. I shall tell him that as it distracted my attention to run counter to two people—' 'You will write a very gentle and careful one. He loves you very much, Hazel. Which was one reason why he was so unwilling that you and I should get acquainted.' Wych Hazel looked up at him with absolute terror in her face. 'What do you mean?' she said. 'It is not very strange. I have the greatest respect for Mr. Falkirk— and not the less because he had sense enough to love you a little too well. Do you remember your making him go to Catskill?' Wych Hazel's head went down on her hands, without a word; but outside the shielding fingers the distressful colour shewed itself in every possible place. Remember!—what did she not remember?— things she had done, things she had said.