'Didn't I say that? Why,' said Wych Hazel running rapidly over details, 'Annabella did not have their own carriage, but a hack and a tipsy driver,—for Josephine's sake, you know. And when we left Josephine he set off up north to see where the snow came from. And we made him turn round, and then jumped out when we got back to Fort Washington. And there we ran against that man again.' 'How came you in Fort Washington?' Rollo asked, his eyes snapping in the midst of the very grave intentness with which he was listening. 'That is where Josephine has hid away.' 'Nightingale drove in from Fort Washington with you?' 'Yes.' 'Does anybody know about this business?' Rollo asked after a slight pause. 'Not Josephine's mother?' 'Nobody. Annabella thought I might have some influence—but if I could not keep her from marrying Charteris in the first place— What _can_ be done?' 'I will try. But Wych, I am going to make one regulation.' 'Yes. Well?' said Wych Hazel, with a certain sheer at the name of "regulations." 'Whenever you go out in a carriage, here or in the country, I wish you always to be attended by a trustworthy servant—either Lewis, or Byrom, or Reo.' 'But my dear friend, in this case I could not have taken either. Don't you see?' 'I do not see anything,' said Rollo lazily. 'Not even that I am your dear friend.' 'I have known you fail on that point before,' said Wych Hazel demurely. 'But the thing to see is that Mr. Rollo's regulations cannot always be carried out.' 'I cannot think of a case where I should allow the exception.' 'I'll tell you as they come. Then will you try what you can do with that wretch?' she went on eagerly. 'I think we can manage him. But I shall not see him myself, Wych; that would be to start his pride again; and of all human passions pride is the strongest that I know—unless possibly jealousy. I must have a medium, and I think I know the right one. I propose to offer him, not carte blanche, but, say, five thousand a year for five years; on condition that during that time he neither joins nor is joined by Josephine, wherever he may be. He wants money badly, as you say. I think he will accept my offer.' 'You had better say for life,' said Wych Hazel quickly. 'No,' said Rollo smiling; 'that would be bad economy. Some day you will know what economy is; in the mean while, believe me. He is not worth more than twenty-five thousand dollars; and _she_ is not. And if she is obliged to wait five years, she will never go to him after that. As to the rest,'—and Rollo bent his head caressingly by the side of Wych Hazel's—'where my regulations cannot be carried out, Hazel,—do not go.' 'But Olaf—'