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Light scarfs of fog floated about the mountain tops, light veils of cloud just mystified the sky; the tree-tops glittered with dew, the birds flew in and out; and through an open corner of her leathern curtain Wych Hazel peered out, gazing at the new world wherein she was going to seek her fortune. 'Spend the Summer at Chickaree, Mr. Falkirk? said a voice from the further end of the coach.
"I want a woman of my own kind." "Heaven save me from that classification!" she observed, with emphasis on the pronoun. "Yes?" he drawled. "Well, there's no profit in arguing that point. Let's be getting on." He reached for the lead rope of the nearest pack horse. Hazel urged Silk up a step. "Mr. Wagstaff," she cried, "I must go back." "You can't go back without me," he said.
So they had timed their journey by the tides: lest, finding low water in the rivers, they should have to wade to the ferry-boats waist deep in mud; and going down the steep hillside, through oak and ash and hazel copse, they entered, as many as could, a great flat-bottomed barge, and were rowed across some quarter of a mile, to land under a jutting crag, and go up again by a similar path into the woods.
"Look out!" called Hazel suddenly and a boat crossed their path so closely that Cora was obliged to throttle down, and Hazel had to run straight for a buoy to avoid a collision, and the craft hit the course marker. Then the Petrel stopped short! It simply wouldn't move! "Oh!" sighed Belle and Bess in one voice, but Cora jumped up and tried for a spark. None came! She looked at the connections.
She threw out her hands with a sudden, despairing gesture. The blue eyes grew misty, and she hid her face in her palms. Before that passionate outburst Hazel sat dumbly amazed, staring, uncertain. In a second Vesta lifted her head defiantly. "I had no notion of breaking out like this when I came up," she said quietly. "I was going to be very adroit.
Leaving at noon, we ascended the gorge behind the city, by delightfully embowered paths, at first under the eaves of superb walnut-trees, and then through wild thickets of willow, hazel, privet, and other shrubs, tangled together with the odorous white honeysuckle.
Your man will come quick enough when he gets word. And we'll take good care of you in the meantime. La, I'm all excited over it. It's the finest thing could happen for you both. Take it from me, dearie. I know. We've had our troubles, Jake and I. And, seeing I'm only six months short of being a graduate nurse, you needn't fear. Well, well!" "I'll need to have food hauled in," Hazel reflected.
He looked spruce as ever, his clothes spick and span, his "four-in-hand" tastefully tied, his collar and cuffs immaculate. His hazel eyes, however, had a worn and wistful look in them. "Quite an American, I declare," he exclaimed, with patronizing admiration and pride, as who should say, "My work has borne fruit, hasn't it?"
On one smoothed surface Bill set to work with his pocketknife. Hazel sat down and watched while he busied himself at this. And when he had finished she read, in deep-carved letters: W. WAGSTAFF'S S. E. CORNER.
Meanwhile, Vessons also made plans, his obstinate mouth and pear-shaped face more dour than ever. Hazel had a letter from Edward in the morning; it was very short. She could not tell what he thought of her. He only said that if she ever wanted help she was to come to him. She cried over it, and hid it away. She knew how well Edward would have looked as he wrote it. She knew he would be grieved.
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