till the mystery is over, that the person who did find her
again happened to be Mr. Rollo. Yet she had hardly seen him
all day before that. Wych Hazel had half forgotten her
situation in enjoying its beauties and musing in accordance
with them; and then suddenly looking up to the great piece of
rock nearest her, she saw him standing there, looking down at
her with the calm face and handsome gray eyes which she had
noticed before. The girl had been singing half to herself a
wild little Scottish ballad, chiming it in with water and wind
and bird music, taking first one part and then another;
looping together a long chain of pine needles the while,--then
throwing back her sleeve, and laying the frail work across her
arm, above the tiny hair chain, the broad band of gems and the
string of acorns, which banded it; in short, disporting
herself generally. But not the "lullaby, baby, and all," of
the old rhyme, ever had a more sudden and complete downfall.
The first line of


"O wha wad buy a silken goun
Wi' a puir broken heart?"


was left as a mere abstract proposition; and Wych Hazel would
assuredly have 'slipped from her moorings,' but for the
certain fear of tearing her dress, or spraining her ankle, or
doing some other bad thing which should call for immediate
assistance. So she sat still and gazed at the prospect.

Her discoverer presently dropped down by her side and stood