Prim looked, and looked away. Her movement first was to go to the table and take off her bonnet and lay down her shawl and right herself a little. Yet Prim was nothing of a coquette, not the least in the world, and never thought about her dress but to have it respectable. Neither did she think about it now; for there was no glass in the room, and the movement with which she pushed the hair further back from her brow assuredly had no origin in regard to appearances. However she came back after that and looked at Hazel more steadily, and then sat down by Mrs. Boërresen to talk in a soft undertone which could disturb nobody. The two girls had scarcely seen each other since the fall before, except in the most casual manner at church or in some chance meeting. Hazel had had good reasons for keeping herself out of the way, and when they met had wrapped herself in a triple veil of defences; so that it was rather a revelation to see her as she looked now. A tired child asleep, instead of the energetic lady of Chickaree. Her three days' slumber had but partially done their work, and Hazel slept on now in the profoundest way; her face and hands in rather noticeable acceptance of the gray shawl, considering whose it was. Prim looked, and looked, from time to time in the intervals of talking, until the talking seemed to die away; and she sat drawn back into herself. The light was failing now. Gyda mended her fire again, and the heavy iron tongs slipped from her hands and fell with a harsh clang upon the hearth. Wych Hazel awoke. The greeting then was very affectionate. 'Wherever in the world did you come from?' said Hazel. 'Does it take two people to keep watch of me?' 'I came here to be out of the way,' said Prim. 'Dane wanted Arthur, or at least the hurt man wanted him. What in the world are _you_ here for, Hazel?' 'O I have been inspecting the mills,' said Hazel with a laugh; 'and of course after such profound work I was tired. But I did not mean to go to sleep. Has everybody else gone home?—it is dinner time this minute.' 'Nobody has gone home,' said Primrose; 'and they cannot help about it's being dinner time, you know. Were you ever here before?—in this house, I mean.' 'Yes—O,' said Hazel with sudden recollection, 'has it taken all this time to attend to that man?' 'Arthur is there.' 'Is he?—that is good. But all this time!'—with a shiver. 'I do not see how I could sleep!'—She stood looking grave, as if rather disappointed in herself. 'Yes,' Primrose went on, —'Arthur and I were driving through the Hollow, just to see the things; and Dane laid hold of Arthur and sent me up here. He didn't tell me I should find you.' Primrose paused, as her eye fell on Hazel's cushioned and draperied chair. 'You have changed your mind about Dane, haven't you Hazel?' she asked abruptly. Hazel faced round upon her in undoubted surprise. 'Changed my mind!' she repeated, flushing all up,—'what was my mind?'