Rollo cast a quick glance up at her, which probably brought him all the intelligence he wanted; for he only remarked audaciously that she 'would know better some day.' 'I could not make you understand, Mr. Rollo. And unless you understood, you would just think there could not be room in my head for a single spark of sense.' 'You don't know what I think of your head. Well—if you see a little shoot of confidence in me starting up in your mind, encourage it, Hazel!' 'I shall never see it, Mr. Rollo.' 'Nor encourage it, of course. Well—I am in a bad way.' 'Things pass the acorn stage, you know,' she said, laughing a little. 'Yes. Do you remember my having once had the honour to remark to you, that I objected to be treated as an old guardian?' 'No,' said Hazel,—'you asked me if I expected to do it. But perhaps that meant the same thing in those days.' 'Perhaps it did. What do you think of it in these days?' Hazel made a sudden transition. 'Will you like to come and go chestnutting in these woods, Mr. Rollo? The Powders all say that I promised them such a day, though I am sure I do not remember it.' 'I don't remember it,' said Rollo lazily. 'As you were not here when I am said to have made the promise, I do not see how you should. But it is needful I should ask you, or Mr. Falkirk will ask—as he did once before upon you non- appearance—if you have offended me.' 'Is the day fixed?' 'No. But they say I have promised.' 'Then there's no help for it, I know. Hazel—when you and I had a ride home in the dark one night, a year ago, did I misunderstand you then?' Silence, instant and deep. Hazel took some time to frame her answer. 'What did you understand?' The supreme flash of Rollo's eyes was instantly hidden by the lowered eyelids; and there was no laughter even in his voice as he answered, 'We understand each other now.' They took their way home again through the glowing woodland and warm, still air, slowly and lingeringly. Near the house, Dane asked when Wych Hazel would go to the Hollow? 'The first day I can. Perhaps I had better wait one day more.' 'To-day is Friday. Yes, and I cannot be here to-morrow, either.' 'It is one of your busy days?' 'One of my busy days, and nights. It is my Exhibition evening. I cannot come here Sunday, either, Hazel. Monday you will be fit for a ride; and we will lunch with Gyda.' 'I was invited to go to the Reading Saturday night!' said Hazel with a half laugh, 'and I refused.' 'You had better. Don't _you_ come, to complicate matters.' 'What should I complicate!—I am the most straightforward person going.' 'I am getting too much distinguished society. But I want to talk to you about that institution, Hazel. I have a great deal to talk to you about. It is very singular that you have nothing to say to me.'