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Success fell so largely to Miss Hazel's share, that she by times was a little weary of it, or of its consequences; and this day finding herself in a most inevitable crowd, do what she could, she fairly ran away for a breath of air with no musk in it.
He's doing more for me, wanting a coffin, and him stiff and cold, than what he did in the heat of life. 'Many folks be like that, said Hazel out of her new wisdom. Neither of them reflected that Abel had always been like that towards Hazel, that she was becoming more like it to him every year. Abel made no remark at all about Hazel's adventures, and she preserved a discreet silence.
Falkirk had not had a ride of four miles; took his breakfast like a man who had; and only towards the close of breakfast suddenly turned to his hostess and asked, 'How does Jeannie Deans behave? Apparently Hazel's thoughts had not been held fast by the politics under discussion, for she had gone into a deep grave meditation. 'Jeannie Deans? she said, with her face flushing all up again.
Andrew Bush walked through the office, greeting the force with his usual curt nod and inclusive "good morning" before he disappeared behind the ground-glass door lettered "Private." With the weekday he had apparently resumed his business manner. Hazel's work consisted largely of dictation from the shipping manager, letters relating to outgoing consignments of implements.
"Why, Paul will be all right," declared Cora, surprised at Hazel's alarm. "What could happen to him? Why is a storm in the afternoon of such consequence?" "Oh, I don't know," sighed Hazel; "but having to manage a car, and be personally responsible for the big mailbag there is so much important mail between Cartown and New City I have been nervous about it ever since Paul began carrying it."
Behind him, tall and disapproving, with an I-told-you-so in her eye, stood Aunt Maria. "Headstrong girl," she murmured severely. "You have given us all two terrible days!" and she pecked Hazel's cheek stiffly. But no one heard her in the excitement.
Arthur was not at home; and yet somehow the conversation flowed in more barren channels than was ever the wont at that table in Wych Hazel's experience. A great deal of talk was about what people were doing; a little about what they were wearing; an enormous amount about what they were saying. Part of this seemed to be religious talk too, and yet what was the matter with it?
By cosh, dem bodadoes iss sell high." It flashed into Hazel's mind that here was a Heaven-sent opportunity to reach the cabin without facing that hundred miles in the company of chance-hired strangers. But she did not broach the subject at once. Instead, she asked eagerly of Bill. Lauer told her that Bill had tarried a few days at the cabin, and then struck out alone for the mines.
But it was a curious, torrid peace, like the hush before thunder. It was the Friday after Hazel's coming, and Reddin was away, much against his will, at a horse fair. He was quite surprised at the hurt it gave him to be away from Hazel. So far he had never been, in the smallest sense, any woman's lover.
The blue sky received his certainty, as it had received Hazel's questioning, in regardless silence. Mrs. Marston observed Edward narrowly. Then she wrote in her hymn-book: 'Mem: Maltine; Edward. The service was over. Edward smiled at her as he passed, and met Mr. James' frown with dignified good-humour.
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