'No,' said Hazel—'_my_ alternative would be destitution.' 'Economy has no connection whatever with destitution.' 'O there you are mistaken,' said the girl arching her brows. 'But for destitution, it need not exist. But I wish I could think of the right explosive materials to put in Prim's trunk! She wants waking up, Olaf,—and you have just stroked her down for a nap.' Dane's eyes snapped at the speaker across the table; and then he asked in a quiet business tone, 'what sort of lethargy Prim had fallen into?' 'I said nothing about lethargy. I must get a ream of paper initialed in blue and gold, and another in crimson, to help line the secretary. And three journal books in green bevelled antique, and fifty note- books in yellow Turkey morocco. And—how many gold pens does Prim wear out in a year?' 'You made a profound remark just now on the origin of economy; I should like to have your definition of the thing. Would you favour me?' 'Mind,' said Hazel, laughing a little, 'it is an unproved definition, the word itself being but lately introduced; but at present it seems to me, the doing without what you want yourself, to give it to somebody who wants it more.' A line of white made itself visible between Rollo's lips, and the curves of his mouth were unsteady. When they were reduced to order again, he asked, 'What more shall we do for New Year in the Hollow?' Certain cloaks and dresses for women and children, it may be remarked, had already been sent up. Wych Hazel considered. 'Would it be possible—but we shall not be at home to give them a night Festival. There went no books nor pictures into the Christmas work?' 'Books—I am afraid—they are not ready for. Pictures—pictures are harmonizing; I am going to get you some; I would like to put a picture in every house. What sort? I have thought about it and failed to decide.' 'Do I want harmonizing in that sense?' Hazel asked with a laugh. 'You want all sorts of things. Go on.' 'Well—for the pictures—I would not get them all alike. It destroys one's sense of possession.' 'True. But the more the variety, the greater the difficulty.' 'What are your nations?' 'Swedes and Germans, a few Irish, a sprinkling of Americans and English.' 'Good pictures of animals, I should think,' said Hazel, going deep into the matter; 'and of ships,—and of children. Englishmen would like King Alfred burning the cakes, and Canute at the sea, and I suppose the queen in her royal robes, and the battle of Trafalgar. Then there are bits of the Rhine, and Cathedrals, and Martin Luther, and a Madonna or two, for your Vaterland people,—and mountains and ice and reindeer—' Hazel broke off with a blush. 'How I run on!'