Then more was called for, with a general soft shout. And then, by and by, as Wych Hazel sang, a soft rich accompaniment began to chime in with her notes. Those two had never sung together before; doubtless that was forgotten by neither; and it is not too much to say that the one voice came caressingly attending upon the other; playing around her notes with delicious skill, accompanying, supporting, contrasting, with a harmony as gracious as it was wilful; till at the close of a somewhat longer piece than usual there was a universal burst of applause. Small audiences are not generally wrought up to such a pitch; and when they had done they all sat and laughed at each other. 'Ah!' said Dr. Arthur, 'I asked for a noise, and after all had to make it myself!' They had got intoxicated with melody. They went on singing, of course. Various and diverse things, but for the most part of the deeper and thoughtful styles of music; sometimes together, sometimes alone. At last Gyda asked for a hymn. Rollo looked at Wych Hazel. The two spots of colour which had been burning in her cheeks, changed suddenly to a grave flush. 'That is for you,' she said softly. He waited a moment, and then sang,— "Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott"— To hear Rollo sing a hymn, or any other song, was to have the meaning given with not less but more than speaking expression, and Wych Hazel's winter studies had enabled her to follow the words. The listeners were all very still, and no applause followed. But when the last line was ended, Rollo rose and announced that it was time to go. And soon as he and Arthur had left the cottage, Hazel sprang up. 'Mrs. Boërresen, which window best commands the Hollow?' 'You can't see into the Hollow from any of 'em, my lady.' 'Where then?' 'You know there's a bend in the Hollow, Hazel,' Prim remarked. 'We cannot see into it from anywhere here.' Wych Hazel stood looking down into the burnt out fire, her hands knotted tight together. If she were but alone!—Could she in any possible way elude her companions and not be found out?— especially the first. Certainly she was a wayward creature, they might think. Five minutes ago listening to that hymn with the most quiet, subdued child's face; and now fairly sparkling with energy and purpose. How could she manage? Prim was putting on her bonnet and shawl. 'It is not very cold,' she remarked. 'I am going as far as the top of the road.'