it to see what will come, sir.'

'But, my dear, there is a difficulty in this case. Your
fortune is made already.'

'Provokingly true, sir. But after all, Mr. Falkirk, I was not
thinking of money.'

'A settlement, eh?' said Mr. Falkirk. 'My dear, when the
prince is ready, the fairy will bring him.'

'Now, Mr. Falkirk,' said the girl, with her cheeks aglow, 'you
know perfectly well I was not thinking of _that_.'

'Will you please to specify of what you were thinking, Miss
Hazel?'

Miss Hazel leaned her head on her hand and reflected.

'I don't believe I can, sir. It was a kind of indefinite
fortune,--a whole windfall of queer adventures and people and
things.'

Mr. Falkirk at this turned round from his papers and looked at
the girl. It was a pretty vision that he saw, and he regarded
it somewhat steadily; with a little break of the line of the
lips that yet was not merriment.

'My dear,' he said gravely, 'such birds seldom fly alone in a
high wind.'

'Well, sir, never mind. Could you be ready by Thursday, Mr.
Falkirk?'

'For what, Miss Hazel?'

'Dear me!' said the girl with a soft breath of impatience. 'To
set out, sir. I think I shall go then, and I wanted to know if
I am to have the pleasure of your company.'

'Do _I_ look like a fairy tale?' said Mr. Falkirk.

He certainly did not! A keen eye for practical realities, a
sober good sense that never lost its foothold of common
ground, were further unaccompanied by the graces and charms
wherewith fairy tales delight to deck their favourites.
Besides which, Mr. Falkirk probably knew what his fortune was
already, for the grey was abundantly mingled with the brown in
his eyebrows and hair. However, to do Miss Hazel's guardian
justice, if his face was not gracious, it was at least in some
respects fine. A man always to be respected, easily to be
loved, sat there at the table, at his papers.

As for the little 'nut-browne mayd' who studied destiny in the
fire, she merely glanced up at him in answer to this appeal;
and with a shake of the head as if fairy tales and he were
indeed hopelessly disconnected, returned to her musings. Then
suddenly burst forth--

'I am so puzzled about the colour of my new travelling dress!
"Contrasts," and "harmonies," and all that stuff, belong to
the pink and white people. But pink and brown--Mr. Falkirk, do
you suppose I can find anything browner than myself, that will
set me off, and do?--I can't travel in gold colour.'