So went the day, with many an other purchasing errand, general and particular. New Year's gifts for the mill hands and the children; the supplies for the stores which Rollo was purposing to open in the Hollow, where all sorts of needful things should be furnished to the hands at cost prices; an easy chair for Reo, a watch for Mrs. Boërresen; books, pictures, baskets. In the course of things Hazel was taken to a Bank, where a dignified personage was presented to her and she was requested to inscribe her name in a big book, and a deposit was made to her account. Also a good down town restaurant was visited, where they got lunch. It was a regular game of play at last. Rollo bought, as Hazel never before saw anybody, things he wanted and things he did not want, if the shopman or shopwoman seemed to be of sorry cheer or suffering from that sort of slow custom which makes New Year's day a depressing time to tradespeople. And Hazel looked on silently. It was so new to her, this sort of buying, and (it may be said) the buyer was also so new! She did not feel like Wych Hazel, nor anybody else she had ever heard of, and could hardly find self- assertion enough to execute her Chickaree commissions when she saw the right thing. She made a suggestion now and then indeed,— "strawberry baskets" and "fishing lines" and "worsted." 'Byo says Trüdchen knit every minute she was at Chickaree,' she remarked. And every suggestion she made Rollo acted upon as fast. Some things were ordered at once to Chickaree; others were sent or taken home with them to the hotel; whither at last, with their work but half done, the two busy and tired people repaired themselves. A pile of business letters demanded Mr. Rollo's time after dinner; and while he was somewhat absorbed in them, Hazel softly brought a foot cushion to his side and placed herself there. It was almost a demonstration, the way she did this, but she ventured nothing further, and sat there still and absorbed in her own musings. Dark blue silky folds lay all around her, and hands and arms came out a little from the wide lace sleeves and were crossed upon her knees. Rollo's eyes wandered to her from his letters once and again, and finally he tossed them aside, and stooped down to look at her and pull her curls a little away from her face. 'Business can wait!'—he said. 'What are you musing about, duchess?' 'O, a host of things!—' 'Take me along.' 'So I have.' 'In what capacity, pray?' 'General Superintendent.' Rollo began to laugh. 'May I know what I am to superintend?' 'Well,' said Hazel, with a bit of a laugh on her side, 'you were filling my trunk—and I could not tell how!' 'Why not?' said Dane, drawing a long curl through his fingers. 'Would it be like Prim's?' 'I hope I have more discrimination!' 'As how?' 'Than to think the same things would suit two so different people.'