"No," she answered quickly. Then, with shyness, gratitude, and dignity all fighting together, she added: "It was very kind of you—very. But I am fond of walking. I—I thought you might have asked me, and not mother," she concluded, with some severity.
Then Paul determined to have it out with her. "Hazel," he asked, with grave directness, "answer me truly. Have I offended or hurt you in any way?"
He tried to catch a glimpse of her face; but it was turned from him, her eyes in busy contemplation of the hedgerow.
"No; oh no," she said hurriedly. "You have never seen Uncle Percival, have you?" she asked, bent upon turning the conversation. Paul was rather alarming, when earnest and grave and unchatty.
"Hazel," he persisted, "tell me: Do you or do you not like driving?"
"Oh, very much!" she exclaimed enthusiastically; "and it is a long, dreary walk," she added, off her guard.
Then came a terrible silence. Paul was too generous to take advantage of the slip, and Hazel, feeling an irrepressible desire to know the worst that his face might be expressing, glanced up hastily as she turned to view, with absorbing interest, the farther hedge.
He was smiling quietly to himself and looking very satisfied over something. So much her brief look told her, and she felt her resentment again rising.
"One can like driving, and yet have reasons for wishing to walk," she said severely, again taking up her weapon, but this time in some trepidation.
"Of course," he answered lightly. "One might object to the companionship of one’s driver."
"I have feared for some little time," he resumed, "that you have been avoiding my society. I cannot tell you how the suspicion has grieved me. I have spent much time in wondering wherein I have erred. Won’t you tell me, Hazel, and set me right?"
Sympathetic Hazel was much distressed. "You have done nothing," she said earnestly, "nothing. Please do not think so again."
"But something has happened," he persisted, "and I think I have a right to know what, as it concerns myself so deeply. Don’t you admit my right?"
"It does not concern you," she repeated, and hesitated. "One can offend oneself sometimes," she added desperately, enigmatically. "I offended myself a little while ago. You are not in the least to blame. Oh, please, do not talk of it any more."